The Audition

My son has wanted to be an actor ever since the day I took him to see a production-for-children of Peter Pan at the local playhouse. The minute the play was over, while the other kids were probably talking about what they wanted to do for the rest of the day, my son was talking about what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Despite his young age (only 7!) he articulated his feelings perfectly. He said, "I want to do what they did." I thought it was adorable.

Years went by and he was still speaking about becoming an actor. It was not anything that I had planned for him through my pregancy, and his baby years. I can remember rocking him in the wee hours of the morning, whispering softly into the downy hair covering the dimple at the top of his head, "you can be anything you want to be: a doctor, a lawyer, a scientist, the president of the United States." For me, it was clear: he was brilliant, beautiful, and blessed by God. He would do amazing things.

In my defense, I got it half right. He certainly has done amazing things; just not the things that I had envisioned. On Saturday, he amazed me once again. He auditioned for a spot in acting conservatory. They estimated that roughly 600 people would be auditioning. There are fewer than 25 openings. The odds took my breath away. I was a basket case. I was jittery. I could not control my anxiety.

My son was just...well, amazing. He greeted every single person as though he had known them his whole life. He was friendly to the others auditioning, laughing and commiserating with them. I saw him mentally preparing, but not once did I see a doubt creep in. He was ready, he was prepared and I was so proud of him. The consummate professional, he did not allow himself to feel anything until it was over. Then he and another prospective student laughed with each other over their nervous energy.

Now we wait. It is extremely hard for me. I know that my son would be an asset to their conservatory. But the conservatory would offer so much to my son as well. His pursuit of his dream has sometimes made him a misfit. Most boys his age cannot fathom the commitment he has to make to the company when he is involved in a play: every weekend, 15 hour days, time spent learning lines during the week, blocking, choreography, run-throughs. As his mother, even I have had a hard time with it.

Being a part of this conservatory would give my son a place with like-minded people. I pray that they could see what a great fit it would be.

My Daughter Wants a Doll for her Birthday

My daughter is turning five and has asked for a doll for her birthday. There is nothing unusual in this, I asked for dolls when I was little. As I anticipated the arrival of my beautiful daughter, I dreamed of playing dolls with her, setting them up on pillows and having tea parties together. Unfortunately, the doll she wants is a Bratz doll.

For those who don't know, Bratz dolls are scantily clad dolls with oversized lips which have that annoying line outlining their lipstick, ostensibly from lip liner (apparently Bratz girls don't read the magazines; you are supposed to match your liner to your lipstick). Even the Bratz baby dolls are heavily made up and adorned with jewelry. From the looks of these dolls, I think they would eschew tea parties in favor of the latest fruit laden martini.

I played with a beautiful effanbee baby doll which smelled of powder and had cute baby rosebud lips. She was my baby, my friend. She later shared my affections with Chrissy a doll with a hole in her head so that you could give her long or short hair, depending on your mood, by pulling it out of the hole in her head and then pressing her navel to roll it back inside. When Chrissy's hair got too tangled, I fell in love with my Baby Tender Love, a doll with pores and soft baby-like skin. None of these dolls would have inspired the Police to write Roxanne. Not so with the Bratz dolls.

The Bratz dolls look like juvenile delinquents. Bad news. The kind of girl your mother warned you about, the kind of girl a decent boy would never bring home to his mother. I've told my daughter that we don't approve of Bratz dolls in our family. But she is really too young to tell her why.

She isn't getting her hearts desire for her birthday. And what makes me so angry is that someone must be buying these dolls or they wouldn't continue being sold. There are people who actually think these dolls are appropriate. I don't know what age the dolls are marketed for, but in my opinion they aren't appropriate for ANY age.

Top Ten Ways You Know We Are Back at School

School has started. I have a high school senior, a sophomore, and a kindergartener. And I am a teacher. How do you know that we are all back to school? Here is a list:

10. My house is a mess.

9. I no longer have time to Gather.

8. There are four school bags plopped in the foyer.

7. My checking account is empty because of all of the back-to-school sneakers, shoes, jeans, underwear, boxer shorts, gym socks, binders, pencils, pens, erasers, folders, notebooks and fees that I have been shelling out money for.

6. My TiVo is no longer taping shows because I have not had time to watch anything and it is full.

5. I am making lunches while I put on my make-up.

4. I've been tempted to tell my principal that the dog ate my plan book.

3. Despite buying all of the aforementioned school supplies, I had to fill out emergency cards in brown crayon.

2. I sent tissues and paper towels to everyone's teachers, but we have no toilet paper in the house.

And the number one reason you can tell we are all back at school:

1. My idea of cooking a homecooked meal has dwindled to Top Ramen noodles and a sliced tomato.

Gotcha Day!

Today is a very special day in my family. Today is what we call "Gotcha Day!" It is a celebration of the day when all the planets were aligned, the heavens were watching their handiwork and a miracle occurred. It is the day when my daughter, born in China, joined her brothers, her father and me. Four years ago today, after three long years of paperwork and fervent prayers, my daughter was placed in my aching arms. And now, four years later, it is so evident that she was intended for our family, but ended up in China during transport. She is our joy. Her two brothers love her fiercely. She is so like each of them in so many ways. I think today of her biological parents and hope that somehow they know that she is safe, flourishing, and dearly loved. I pray that God gives them grace and blessings. This daughter of mine who fills my life with laughter, wonder and love is such a gift. Happy Gotcha Day, beautiful girl.

George Foreman for President

Sorry, folks, he isn't running. I just wish he would. I saw him on the television show, American Inventor, and I continued to watch subsequent episodes of the show just to see how kindly he handled the contestants, and his no-nonsense attitude. He seemed to embody so many philosophies at once: persevere and you will succeed, don't sweat the small stuff, and a kind word is a wonderful gift you can give someone.

A look at his biography will show that he believes in hard work and giving back. In addition to his work as an ordained minister in Texas, he opened up a youth center. In his interviews he is quick to talk about his love of God, his love of his family and the importance of forgiveness. His successes in the ring and in the field of marketing prove him to be an astute businessman.

My son turned to me while we were watching American Inventor and saw my smile and said, "I bet if we didn't already have one, you would go out and buy a George Foreman Grill." I laughed and said, "You know, that's probably true, but I will go you one better: if he would run for President, I'd vote for him tomorrow."

Open Letter to Lindsay Lohan

Lindsay, I realize you don't know me and that you are probably being given advice from a lot of people. In fact, someone may have already said these same things to you already. Humor me and read what I have to say.

You are a talented, beautiful young lady. You are also strong, which is evidenced by just the little I know about you: you have been able to achieve success in a highly competitive industry all while you have dealt with some difficult family situations. Take pride in this. It is not easy.

You must stop looking for happiness outside of yourself. You will never find it. In fact, when you look for happiness outside of yourself, you will only find trouble, grief, and disappointment.

You have to start giving back to the best friend you have ever had: yourself. You are the one that has gotten through the tough spots in your life. You can do it again. In order to get past these recent mistakes you have made, you need to reach inside and ask yourself for the help to do it.

Be good to yourself. Be proud of your accomplishments. Learn from your mistakes. Be happy in who you are. If you need to change something, do it. For yourself. Be the friend you so desperately need.

Family Rules

For years I had a list of "family rules" tacked up on the wall in the upstairs hallway. I had printed it out on the computer and hoped that we could make them instinctive. I really wanted them to just be a reminder of the rules of behavior we talked about as a family. There were major headings like "Respect for Our World," and "Respect for Our Family," and "Respect for Others." A rule under the heading "Respect for Our World," was "Leave a Place Better Than You Found It." This was because I just couldn't stand it when the boys would not put something away because "they hadn't taken it out." My son once picked up litter by a creek in our favorite park. He was disgusted that someone would defile such a beautiful spot. As he went over to the trash receptacle, he said to me matter-of-factly, "I'm leaving a place better than I found it."

I found that some rules needed to be added as we went along. When my oldest boy was eight he went on a playdate where there were older siblings. He came home with a bruise on his chest from someone giving him what is called a "purple nurple." I was absolutely horrified. Quickly I added "Respect for your own body" to our list of rules.

When the boys became teenagers I needed an updated list of rules. They were really the same rules, but more explicitly phrased. "Respect for your own body," is now a heading over "No drugs," "No alcohol." I was squeamish about posting rules which pertained to sex, so I worded them in a way that the boys know exactly what I mean (because we've talked about it so much). So under "Respect for Others" as well as "Respect for Yourselves" is "Don't do anything that will bring you consequences and responsibilities."

In many ways, the boys think I am silly. They roll their eyes and sometimes even laugh. But they know what I stand for and they know what is expected of them as members of this family. And so, as my four-year old daughter learns to read, I will make a new "starter list" for her. Ideally, the boys will even help me with it. It shouldn't be hard since the list is just a written reminder of all of the things we stand for as a family.

Growth

My 15 yr. old son quit smoking. I know what some are thinking after reading this: he should never have started in the first place. This is true, and I make no excuses for him. I don't smoke and I had drummed into him the dangers of smoking since he and his brother were little. I would point to celebrities and family members whose health declined from the ravages of smoking. Despite all my best efforts, he had his first cigarette when he was thirteen. I was devastated when I found out, but I was also frustrated at his lack of sense and embarrassed at what I perceived as my own failure as a parent.

My son had a few frustrations of his own. He hated wasting his allowance on cigarettes, and he hated the time it wasted when he had to leave the house to have a smoke. He wanted to quit, but he knew how bad he felt "between cigarettes" and was a bit frightened to experience that torture magnified. He mentioned that he might try to quit after school let out for the summer. I crossed my fingers, but didn't say anything more than "You can do it." Two days after summer vacation began, he came to me and said that he hadn't had a cigarette in two days. I hadn't realized that his desire to quit had hardened into a resolve.

It hasn't been easy for him. Like most smokers, he had a routine which he has had to forgo. There have been days that have truly been awful - he says that the cravings can come out of nowhere. When we went on vacation, he felt a terrible pressure and gave in to "just one cigarette." Luckily it made him feel, in his words, "stupid and not worth it," so he has gone another two weeks without another one. I am really very proud of him.

I have learned a few things myself. I feel that I cannot take credit for his strength and determination, so I shouldn't feel guilty about his smoking either. Both starting and quitting were entirely up to him. Also, I have learned that the addiction to nicotine cannot be taken lightly. As a never-smoker, I did not realize how hard it is to quit. Realizing that, I feel even prouder of my son for quitting on his own.

Family Vacation

Tomorrow I am leaving, with my children and father, on our annual vacation on the Cape. My oldest son is coming along, despite the fact that for two years now he has said he is too old for "family vacations." I am very happy he is coming, but my happiness is tempered with dread for the sullen attitude which will inevitably surface. My four year old daughter is so excited that it is nerve-wracking: not only have we been counting the days for over two weeks now, but she has been putting things aside to pack - we'll need a refrigerator box for it all to fit. My 15 yr. old son is sleeping now, but he will be the one to help me get the show on the road.

We've been doing this for so long that we have a system. My mother is the co-pilot. She calms me down, offers conversation to keep me alert on the seven hour trip, and keeps my father, the ultimate backseat driver, at bay. Unfortunately, she is already on the Cape, caring for my brand new twin nephews. Believe me, I am terrified of making the trip without her. My father wants to leave before dawn, drive more than halfway before the first stop and, if we do not "make good time," refrain from making any more stops. I like to take a more leisurely drive, maybe stopping and doing some shopping at my favorite stores along the way, have breakfast and maybe lunch, too.

I have packed little wrapped trinkets for my daughter to open along the trip. It has become a tradition, and it keeps her occupied. My father will worry about every little scrap of paper littering the rental car. I am more laid back. Once we get to the hotel, I will clean everything up in one fell swoop. If she tries to talk to me, he will interrupt, "No distracting the driver!" My father will keep his eyes on the road, but also on my son who I have elected to be my co-pilot. If he fidgets even a little, my father will yell, "Don't touch anything on the dashboard. No distracting the driver!" This is okay, though, because it means that my son will not be able to flip the radio station when I begin to sing along.

My oldest son will put his earphones in his ears and fall asleep. However, when he wakes up he will revert back to his toddler days and ask how much longer the trip will be. He will do this every 20 minutes until the end of the trip. Unless my father yells at him, "For crying out loud, grow up. We'll be there when we get there. If we hadn't had to wait for you to go back upstairs for your earphones, we'd have made it to Rhode Island by now. And, do we still have to remind you to use the bathroom before we leave? That pit-stop in Jersey cost us at least an hour's driving time by the time we got past rush hour traffic." Now I am the driver and referee.

We will get there. We will have fun. We will laugh, we will swim, and we will have peppermint ice cream. I know this because we have been doing this for so long. The night before we have to trek home again, we will all wish for just one more day. And I will pray that God keeps us well until we come back next year.

Living in the Moment

I just came back from my daughter's "Stepping Up" ceremony which heralds the leap from pre-K to Kindergarten. As I arrived, I saw balloons gracing the yard with "Congratulations" and "You Did It," and a table laden with donuts, cupcakes and juice boxes. Parents started to arrive with grandparents, older and younger siblings, and even aunts and uncles. Such a fuss!

And why not? When I considered how important each one of the "graduates" was to his or her family, and the effort that the nursery school and families had expended in marking this small milestone, I was overcome. I wished everyone in the world could feel all the love that was concentrated in a tiny school yard on an unassuming tree-lined street in Brooklyn. It was a wonderful moment when there was no need for synchronicity, or planetary alignment, or good luck. Love was all around and I was truly happy to be aware of it.

I don't always live in the moment. Truth be told, I probably worry about the future more than most people, and have to steel myself against languoring in the past. I am sure that there have been moments like today when I have missed all the beauty and meaning. But today, in that moment, I was present to the love I saw and I savored it.