Finding My Child in The Middle: Our Journey Into Middle Childhood.

Finding My Child in The Middle: Our Journey Into Middle Childhood.

     About a year ago, at age 7, my daughter began dreaming of an art and architectural exploration of Paris. I, myself, never having been overseas, pushed aside the idea and tried to refocus on what I felt to be the more financially attainable doll house. When a friend sent us an unbelievable deal from Norwegian Air, we made a decision to set fear and maybe reason aside, and double-clicked for it. At Christmas, Sophie and I each opened a box with a ticket and a beret symbolizing a Mommy/Daughter trip to Paris in the Spring.
       My husband was the one who actually highlighted the importance of reinforcing the Mommy/Daughter bond at this age.  As a teacher, I couldn't argue the point. This is a pivotal age in child development and preserving the bond between parent and child during this specific year is of epic importance. We've now exited Early Childhood Development and entered what professionals call Middle Childhood. It's often a missed transitional period that we don't quite know what to do with.  It's the (bum, bum, bummmm...) MIDDLE.  We've all heard the refrains about the first 5 years and the brain wave that you must catch in order to build a foundationally sound little human.  But between that tidal wave and Puberty lies the MIDDLE.  It's that spot where you can lose the blinding light of joy that accompanies birth when you've entered the journey as a parent, and are now often walking robotically guided through The Dim, like a Roomba at work, gently guided back to the path by the walls of schedules, classes and all the other "supposed to" guidelines. There is no more magical back light from birth and the light at the end of the tunnel is too far off to acknowledge. Where are we and what are we supposed to do now?

      Welcome to Middle Childhood, that "SOMEWHERE place" between 7 and 11 years, give or take a year depending on your kid. School age children naturally experience the positive and sometimes negative effects of Social Comparison, synonymous with The Middle. We often forget to take pictures because, we have already documented all the 1st things from wobbly steps to surprising words and the child is now becoming an individual outside the home as they spend more time at school and with friends, being influenced and changed by their surroundings which account for most of their time at this point.  Middle Childhood is also a time when your young influencer realizes the power of social influence that they themselves weild with as much or more power than their beloved Harry Potter.  Teaching the responsibility to the general good is learned during this time.  The self-expression and compassion they developed during Early Childhood are now bathed in a spotlight and put to the test while they navigate what being true to themselves means.  I view this as a golden time where they get to practice how to use their human powers of friendship and expression before we put the actual weapons of technology into their hands, when they operate Insta accounts and Facebook pages.

      Reclaim the power of the parent/child bond during this window by creating common experiences, which increases trust and understanding between you and your child. Exploring the unknown together sets the stage for a life game that you both want to win while you’re playing on the same team... working toward the same goals. We chose to do this by taking a trip together to a place neither of us had ever been.  I wasn't showing her something, but rather we were learning something together.  We were learning about each other and by trying to be good at the relationship with my daughter, I was inadvertently showing her how I expect her to have successful relationships with friends. We had to practice implementing both of our ideas on places we wanted to visit.  Listening to each other was a skill that developed as we planned and continued as we journeyed. Navigating the Metro, practicing awareness for sketchy people (pickpockets), and evoking a good back and forth conversation with someone were just a few things that surfaced as being great take-aways from our together time. I honestly wasn't sure I'd ever spent as much time with my daughter, where I had no excuse to remove myself.  With no work, no other children, no driving, no husband, no one to talk to on the phone as our world was asleep half way around the world and all of the sudden I was EXPOSED. I needed to answer for myself and there is nothing left to do but look at the face of your child across from you and be present.  We discovered that what cracked us up was reenacting paintings and artwork. What will you discover in the Middle? Don’t forget, your child isn’t just bonding with you. You are bonding with them as well. That is a truth I know only from navigating our trip together.  Spending a few months looking into where we wanted to go in Paris, researching the history of those places, and learning some of the language were all micro-experiences within this bigger one of traveling to the unknown together...The unknown not only being Paris, but the person I was with. I discovered that while I felt the cavernous difference between being a carefree 8 year old and a stressed out 38 year old, we were able to mind the gap and find that navigating the NEW together is more thrilling than figuring it out alone. Middle Childhood is more than a Developmental Stage, it's a meeting place. We met in The Middle.

Stop and Smell the Convo! Mastering Your Best Mr. Rodgers

      If you are a parent, you have perfected the craft of the long term conversation. One of my mom friends called me last week and said, “I have the best drama...ooo gotta go.” I still don’t know what it is, but the conversation is like a good book and unfolds in about the time it takes to read a novel. Everything gets better with time though right? I personally believe that completing a conversation between two parents should be accompanied by cheerleaders and a marching band or a trumpet and a squire with a scroll announcing the completion in an old English accent. Your completion of any conversation represents a touchdown on the family field and an appreciative soft clap from your neighbors in family land. And if you haven’t competed a conversation this week, just lean into that old adage, “It’s not about the end, it’s the journey that counts.” It can be downright frustrating sometimes, but it’s absolutely the truth.
       While most of the time we are rushing through life, moments like the video of my husband and son improv-ing a song about a monster truck are treasures. These moments require a Time Out in the game of life. Even in my Pre-K classroom, I have to remind myself, as the teacher, that the most vital piece of their success in each moment is knowing that they are heard and someone cares about the things they care about. When writing a blog like this, I have to stop no fewer than 20 times to just listen or take a break and help or just to play. So....maybe I started this blog last week and I’m just wrapping it up. What’s the rush?!
       I’m committing to channel my very best Mr. Rodgers this week and give my family the presence they deserve. My husband, Eric Petersen, is great at special moments and you can take a look at this video to see it in action. To understand what daily life married to Broadway headbanger and School of Rock star, Eric Petersen, this sweet look at him and our son, Miles, tells you most of what you need to know. I love how supportive Eric is as a husband and father. The video of them making up this song is genius because you see them both LISTENING to each other. He’s always listening to our kids...really listening. He lets them know they are important. It’s a collaboration! He is so mastering this Mr. Rodgers thing!

Confessions of a Postpartum Mommy.

    It's Broadway calling. We used to joke about this when we were starting out in NYC. The phone would ring and we would joke, with 100% wishfulness it were true, that Broadway was calling. Fast forward 10 years and here they were...calling. At the exact same time, our second child, Miles, was calling. The labor pains were hard and fast and once they started there was no slowing down. Miles was about to be born.
     In the delivery room, about an hour before birth, Eric got a call that Andrew Lloyd Webber wanted to see him for a final callback for School of Rock in NYC (which would be opening on Broadway that year) in 2 days and Mr. Webber would only be there for that day.  When it rains it pours and it was pouring...Babies and Broadway. Eric was torn about leaving me, so I booked his flight between contractions with Amex Points and resolve. In this moment, I was excited.  When I saw they were doing School of Rock on Broadway, I was convinced in the depths of me that he would play the lead. It was heading to Broadway for the first time and I just knew it was Eric's for the taking.
     The doctor came in to give the epidural and had to stick the yardstick sized needle in twice because they missed the first time. I realized that the IV was in my right hand and so every time I moved it gently tugged that vein out of the top of my hand.  It was uncomfortable but it was fine. It was fine. It was fine. Nothing major was wrong so how could I complain?
     Miles came into the world happy and healthy, kicking and screaming just like he is supposed to. Eric even got to catch him coming out like a little football and cut the cord. I sang to him and my body shook as I came down off of the drugs they had given me.  Kyle and Megan (Eric's brother and his now wife) brought Sophie to meet Miles and it couldn't have been a sweeter moment. Sophia wore her Big Sister T-Shirt and Miles "gave" her a gift.  It was just as it should be.
    In the recovery room, it was dark, and even with the lights on it seemed dim. I remember crying as I felt overwhelmed by all that was happening at the time. It was okay to feel that way because it was, in fact, a lot. The next day, Eric picked up my mom form the airport and brought her to meet Miles. We all headed home and Eric went to NYC to get that job. I was so glad my mom was there because with a four year old at home and bringing in a new baby, you need an extra set of hands and someone who loves you around.
   Eric got stuck in a snowstorm and couldn't return home right away so 5 days later he was able to get  back to us. Sadly, School of Rock (the original cast) went to the other guy.  It wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time something like that happens. Hey, that's showbiz!  I'm not gonna lie though, this one hurt. (Although, we all know now that he got the 1st replacement job and did eventually play the lead in School of Rock on Broadway, it was tough to see that first one slip away).
   Mastitis (infected breast) took over my chest and my temp sky rocketed to 104.5 soon after Eric got home and my mom left. We were really in the weeds. Thank God for Sophie, because she had been bringing me water from the bathroom sink during the time between when my mom left and Eric arrived. It was scary. Eric thought clearly enough to call my doctor and she immediately called in antibiotics for me.
   What was more clear to Eric than to me was that I was NOT myself. Tears streamed down my face as I walked through the day. I couldn't get out of the funk. If you've ever seen Stranger Things and know "the upside down", that is what life was like. Everything was in it's place, all the people were there and I was going about my day, but it was as if someone turned out the lights. It was dark and had an indescribable sadness that laid heavily on it.  Something was wrong, but it was so hard for me to see it. I had Postpartum Depression and it was robbing me of life.
    Thank God, I knew enough to know this wasn't how it was supposed to be. As if I had an out-of-body experience, I watched Eric take the phone and go to the other room, talking in hushed tones to my doctor. When he came back to hand over the phone so I could talk with her, I thanked my lucky stars that we didn't live in the 50's where I might have been locked up for feeling this way. I was able to be honest with my doctor and myself about how I constantly cried and I hurt in a way that was soul crushing. I felt that no one cared about me and that because I couldn't manage my sadness that maybe it would be easier for everyone if I wasn't there. The thing is...I couldn't find the reason for the sadness. Rationalizing your emptiness is something that prevents people from getting the help they need for depression, but once I realized that this was beyond the scope of rational, I knew I needed to try to get help.
    She prescribed the highest dose of Lexipro and I battled the depression until the anti-depressant got into my system, which took abut 4 wks. I stuck with it because I desperately wanted to enjoy my baby, my child, and our life again.
    Soon, I was able to see glimpses of the old self I knew and my response to life was what I expected. In other words, it didn't take me by surprise.
    Over the next year, I continued to take the anti-depressant and I know that many people stay on them for life once they start them. For me, I knew that the hormones were leveling and I was starting to regulate at about the one year mark. I slowly tapered off of the medicine and began to cope with my normal feelings with my old standbys of tears, wine, and prayer.
    And here is what surfaced for me as true as I came around the bend and saw light at the end of the tunnel...
1.) It's okay to be sad or feel overwhelmed. Sometimes those are the cards and you have to deal with them and all the feelings that go along with it.
2.) Know when to get help. If you can't manage the feelings that are happening and don't recognize yourself, it's time to call your doctor.
3.) It gets better. I know this was a popular campaign in the last year, but it's because it's true.  The dark times sharpen and shine us. Darkness always gives way to light.

Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."

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Parenting Your Broadway Baby

     
     

     "Come on, man," screams a parent at an umpire over your shoulder at the little league game and before long you are swept into the culture and the screaming is coming from your own mouth.  Listen, we all know the parent who screams from the bleachers at the field, losing himself in the moment hoping for the best for their kid, yet revealing their inner crazy.  The same thing happens to kid actor parents. One day they are a tearful mom clapping for their little Munchkin in the school play and the next thing they know they have created a tearful child because they are racing all over a city spending every play date time in a waiting room with 100 other miserable children and their hopeful parents.  The screams are maybe more internalized with stage parents, but they are screams nonetheless.
     When Sophie was still swimming in my belly, people were asking me if we were going to put her in “the business.” I joking would say that I am going to encourage her to be a neurosurgeon instead.  Because however difficult that is, it must be easier than the life of an actor.  At a certain point though, you begin to realize that your guidance is a mere suggestion and nature is eminent.  We have to embrace the fact that she was basically born backstage and raised in dressing rooms, making backstage anywhere feel like home to our little roadie.  
     EVERY parent, EVERYwhere between NYC to LA has had the revelatory moment as they watch their bundle of joy belt out “Let It Go” on the stage of their living room knows they are sitting on a star.  Some parents are satisfied to post it on YouTube or text to grandparents, while others start researching local agents and acting classes.  Our journey was somewhere in between those stories.
     Because of Eric’s career as an actor, we happened to know a casting director, who years earlier told us to call him when Sophie was ready. During Eric’s taping of the TV show, “Kirstie” for TVLand, Sophie begged that she wanted to do what daddy did...acting.  We called up our friend and Sophie took a few meetings with agents. They all wanted her and we asked her who she liked best. She chose the people who gave her candy...go figure. Her first audition was for “Grace and Frankie,” the Netflix show and she booked it! The first season she played Brooklyn Decker’s daughter, granddaughter to Jane Fonda and Lily Thomlin. As she went in for the audition, Eric told her to just be herself in his most valiant attempt at good stage parenting. Her response was indicative of all things Sophie as she matter of factly said,"No Daddy, I'm going to be the character." She loved the routine of the set and being part of the filming.  She would come home and transform her pink karaoke mic stand into a boom mic and held it over us, assigning us lines and staging, and directing us with “action” and “cut”.  What a pro! 
     Not too long after that job, we moved to NYC for Eric to do School of Rock and Soph took a break from being a pro to just be a kid. I signed her up for school plays like "Willy Wonka" in CA, where she played an Oompa Loompa, and she took a kids class where they learned basic acting stuff and performed a short musical at the end of the session.  
     While many parents might view the professional work as better than the school play, I’ve got to say both are equally valuable.  It’s important for kids to feel like they are part of the community at their school and to contribute to the greater good, understanding that the experience is a building block of an artist.  It might not be the role of a lifetime and there will be no school play that contributes to their college fund, but the community experience builds their life experience, so give them that too!  
     Just remember that unless Oscar and Tony are the names of your kids, they are not the most important names around.  

10 Tips for Moving Your Family Across the Country

Moving from coast to coast and traveling for months at a time can be challenging to say the least.  Here is a fun list our family has discovered takes the edge off.  Well, this list and a glass of wine.

1. The family meeting.  It doesn’t have to be all “This Is Us” when you call a family meeting.  Hopefully, you’ve been including the family in conversations along the way so nothing comes as a complete shock.  Talk with your kids about it in a way that helps them look forward to where they are going. Even preschoolers are intuitive, so talk them through it, but make sure to set a positive tone. And if it doesn’t go all Disney Channel-sitcom-wrap-up after 22 minutes, don’t despair.  It gets better with time.
2. If you can move during the summer or at a natural transition point...do it. Other transition points include before the New Year or at Spring Break. We did one move after our daughter finished her school play. That, to her, let her feel like she completed a project and that we took her feelings into consideration. (She was the best squirrel in Willy Wonka’s factory, btw.)
3. Preserve the date night. Moving is the most stressful thing, second only to divorce.  Take care of your spouse and remind them and yourself that you care.
4. Give your kids the extra moments. Extra? Okay.  Well maybe there are no “extra” moments, but tweet about politics later and be with your littles now. We like to have little family dance parties where we just crank the music and dance it out.  The kids love these impromptu moments. Music is always a life preserver.
5. Create a plan. It doesn’t mean you’ll stick to it.  It’s about as foolproof as your birth plan was, but just having some semblance of purpose and understanding that there is a logical way to get to the other side is extremely helpful to your psyche, which may be just slightly off the hinges at the moment.
6. Divide responsibilities between partners. When you get to work moving, make sure you are supporting and supported.  Changing your address, getting boxes, getting rid of unwanted items, taking apart beds...All hands on deck!
7. Remove the kids with a sitter when the movers take everything from your home.  Heck. It’s traumatic for me to see things move and get thrown out.  Not to mention it’s just safer not to have Curly and Moe under your feet when the movers are there too.
8. Let your kids help pack and unpack. Once the dust settles, empower the kiddos.  Putting those busy hands to work organizing toys or the utensil drawer can be a big help.  They will be proud of their work and you will be too.
9. Don’t forget the heart. Move whatever was the centerpiece or something that is the indicator of your home.  It preserves some amount of sameness which helps relieve anxiety. We move our family picture wall back and forth across the country.  It’s a layout of about 10 items, including a clock, 3 framed maps, and family pictures in black and white.  When our kids see this covering the main family room wall, it tells them, subconsciously, that this is home.
10. Surround yourself with close friends and family that remind you of your sense of humor. We stayed with a friend and her twin boys for a few days during our most recent move.  Both our husbands were away on work and we kept each other in stitches calling ourselves sister wives, laughing at ourselves and enjoying our kids.  I realized that this friend brought out the best in me during a trying time and those are the best of friends and family.

Hop to Hope

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/

Broadway In A Bathing Suit. The pur"suit" of a challenge.

     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.