Fffffffwap! I screamed out and spun around. Something had landed on my eye and it had no intention of leaving.
It was the 4th of July and the kids and I were on the balcony of a parking garage overlooking the intercostal waterway in Ft. Myers, FL, hopefully looking for fireworks despite the drizzle. Eric was busy starring in a performance with the Broadway cast of Escape to Margaritaville in Washington DC for PBS, called A Capitol 4th!
We have let go of our NYC apartment and will begin our LA lease in August. For the moment, we are homeless chic. We embrace the moment and continue our planned visit to family in Florida and wait for our things to be shipped across the country...again...in yet another...transition.
The wet slime sucked on my eye and I had no idea what it was. My mind went straight to a bat or snake or lizard, but at that point, whatever it was had to go. Now!!!
“Take Miles! Take Miles!” I called out to my in-laws as I turned my back to them and handed off our 3 year old, who I had been holding piggy back style.
I was finally able to grab the thing and pull it off my eye. The sticky sucker pulled my hair as it made its’ way back over my ear and, probably to his relief as much as mine, he made it to the wall. We all turned around to see it was a frog who found himself on my face.
The absurdity of it all cracked us up, but I couldn’t shake the nasty feeling until I was able to wash my face and look up to see if my new friend was poisonous. Of course I shivered, twitched and immediately went home to wash my face and have a fresh perspective. A few days later I got another crazy visitor.
I’m not going to lie to you. Transition is difficult. And in this life we lead, it’s around every corner. Every TV show, every broadway show, and every project in this business has an end. There is no pot of gold at the end of these rainbows, but rather a sea of uncertainty. With the closing of Eric’s most recent Broadway show, here we go again, back to LA to pursue more on camera projects for Eric.
Acting is not unlike other businesses, where one family member travels a lot and where sales and commissions are not promised, but hard work is always required. Sometimes it leads to monetary goals and other times it leads to a dead end, but the artist’s journey is to continue on. The colors yielded by the ups and downs create depth and perspective. Our kids develop a flexible mindset and are able to handle the obstacles of life because they understand what’s really important and how to problem solve.
I’m always up for the challenge when transition comes, but sometimes when I get deep in the middle of it, I wonder if I can successfully make it to the other side. Believe me, just yesterday, I wanted to turn around.
A month ago, we both had jobs, the kids were in school and we lived in the best neighborhood in Manhattan. Right now, we are homeless, jobless, and school-less. Don’t worry though. We plan for these things, but it still requires some mental and emotional gymnastics. We all wanted to be back in LA and for Eric to get another TV show, so we take the leap and head into the dark unknown of sunny LA.
In our family, we use prayer to get us through and ask for clarity in our paths. We always get clarity, even when we don’t like what we hear. Without that, we would truly be lost. Because even if we are in a challenging place of life, we know God is in control because we sure aren’t. I will say I always pray for a sign that we are doing the right thing.
So back to my signs from the Frogs. A few days after the case of Frog Face, we arrived at my parents house for a visit. As my mom and I were washing things in her kitchen sink, I commented on how hot the water was and said I hope she didn’t burn her hands. We both continued washing for about a minute when a frog jumped out of the disposal side of the sink, which we were working in!!!!! We both screamed and jumped back. My dad came in and caught him and boy was he big! He must have come inside with us at some point, but you can imagine that now I thought something was up with these frogs. After catching Prince Frederic, the kids enjoyed releasing him into the wild driveway. Now, I just had to figure out what the heck these frogs meant, so I did some googling. The National Wildlife Foundation and a few other sites state that the frog is seen as a sign for easing transition and renewal. For the Romans, it was a sign of bringing good luck into the home. Well, I’ll take it. This whole thing couldn’t have been any more clear, so I’ll accept that encouragement and keep my eyes fixed on the goals in front of us. The signs I get are usually a bit more traditional like a job offer or something, but, hey, I’m open. The adventure awaits.
http://blog.nwf.org/2012/03/7-animals-to-bring-you-good-luck/
https://www.spiritanimal.info/frog-spirit-animal/comment-page-4/
My friend, Kiera, and I had scored tickets to “Hello, Dolly” on Broadway and not only were we looking forward to the show, but we had not seen each other in months. She lives in Sacramento and was passing through NYC for this 1 day, before she was headed to Ireland to study for a few weeks. It was imperative that we have this experience together. It's hard enough to get out alone when you have young children, but when your husband is in a broadway show, he doesn't get to do that nighttime date to see shows because he is the entertainment for other people's date. So when you have one of your besties in town and you've secured a babysitter that you are willing to pay a small fortune to, "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" and go.
Living in NYC, you naturally live your life end to end. By that, I mean filled completely with however many amazing experiences you could possibly have in one day. This is how we do it, baby. So....another friend of mine, Tara, and I took our girls out to Coney Island the day after school ended for the year. We rode the rickety rides and the girls screamed with excitement and only a little bit of real carnival fear. The trash littered sands beckoned to us like a fortune teller and we followed the call. I recognized the beach as being an escape, but Coney Island still has echoes of the creepy carny island that Pinocchio ends up in where all the boys are transformed into donkeys. Okay, so now that I'm saying it I realize that it's only slightly terrifying, so I'm going to label that "adventure". As we shared a picnic table on the pier with strangers, I took a bite of salt, shaped like a hot dog. My friend and I marveled with our girls on how someone could eat a hundred hotdogs in the famous eating contest which takes place here each year. Congrats to Joey Chestnut on his 74 hotdogs down and 11th win at yesterday's Nathan's Hotdog Eating Contest. It's absolutely disgusting but also impressive. When you explain to your child how someone trains their stomach to stretch so they can eat an unimaginable number of hotdogs by choking down the dog and then putting the buns in water and eating them wet, you really begin to realize how disgusting this contest really is. But despite this realization you just can’t look away because you can hardly believe it’s actually happening. There is a method to winning the challenge and you begin to understand when you see the Mustard Belt Trophy, the fanfare that goes along with it, and the ESPN coverage that someone could devote actual time to this training.
On a regular day, without the hotdog fanfare, the crowd is thinned out to reveal some tourist and some locals equally sizing each other up and people watching each other.
We head to the car, salt stained, sweaty and our heads spinning slightly from the heat and some from the rides. It was only 3pm, so I was on track to make it home to the Upper West Side to change clothes and head to Times Square to have drinks with my friend at 6pm and to see “Hello, Dolly” on Broadway at 7pm. As we headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge, it was evident that this would be a long ride home. The parking lot we called traffic barely moved. It was like watching water boil. You knew you would get there, but it seemed like time stood still. If only that were true, I wouldn’t have had a problem. The problem was the only thing standing still was our car. Time was running away like the A train and sadly, I wasn’t on it.
As we sat, my thumbs took their position on the keypad of my phone to tell my friend the bad news. The mom driving looked over at me and said, “My dad used to always say, “There are no problems, only solutions.” “ The light turned on and I decided I had to make it to this show. I could hop the subway down here and actually make it on time if there weren’t any delays.
And then...the classic words that every parent hears, especially when it’s the worst time and place for it...”I have to go to the bathroom, RIGHT NOW!” I looked back at my friend’s 7 year old and could see the pee dripping out of her eyes like tears. Oh sweetie. I’ve been there. I look longingly at my watch, wishing I could stop it. Then I look back to the little one in the backseat and beckon her with the wave of my hand to come with me. I spot a Starbucks just to our right and head inside. I ask for the bathroom, but my hope was quickly deflated when the snippy barista said, “If I let you use it, I have to let everyone else” as she makes an overdramatic motion to the sweaty line of customers awaiting their iced somethings. Okay, I now had 20 minutes to get to midtown and no prospects of getting this child to a bathroom. The only other business I could see was a FedEx at the other end of the block and across the street, so I brought her inside and gave a desperate plea. Again, the manager said “no public restrooms” and tried to send us on our way. So I turned to the sweet pea and she started to cry. I told them she was going to have an accident and they just shrugged and said they were sorry. “Just go ahead and let it go then sweetie,” I told her. “There isn’t a bathroom so you can just go right here.” In an almost magical turn of events, they they were actually able to let us use their restroom. That child should win a daytime Emmy.
15 minutes dedicated to the bathroom saga and I put her back in the car, which still hasn’t moved. I make a break for the A train and know full well it’s likely I’m going to miss this show. I feel like a crazy person, because I've abandoned all hope of class and am now just crossing my toes to show up salt kissed and sweaty in a bathing suit cover up, but it felt like a mission I had to accomplish. THIS WAS MY HOTDOG EATING CONTEST. As I ran down the subway stairs, the express train arrives and I jump on. I get off at Times Square and have about 4 minutes to get to the theater. My flip flops make a smacking sound like the clock ticking as a dart in and out of people until I made it to the theater doors, where my friend’, Kiera, had a smile and a ticket waiting for me. I apologize profusely for missing drinks and we sat down as my spinning head eventually came to stop. I straightened my bathing suit cover up, which I’m now pretending is a dress. Compact in hand, I checked my make up and lipsticked my way to presentability. As we watched the famous song “Put on your Sunday Clothes,” I had to giggle at the fact that if you can't wear your Sunday clothes, you can make it work with a bathing suit cover up. I made it to my friend and to this show which ended up being a fun and amazing experience that I won’t forget. The easy thing would have been to give up and cancel. But yet, so much of life is really just showing up and I’m so happy I did. I realized that I could conquer the unconquerable and that, as my friend’s dad used to say, “There are no problems. Only solutions.” Nothing great happens without a good challenge. And these are the things good blog posts are born of.
