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.  

What My 3 Year Old Taught Me About New Year Resolutions.

     As we sat at the lunch table today, our conversation turned to the inevitable chatter of New Year's Resolutions.  Our table included 5 people ranging from 3 to 59.  It was easy enough to agree on the ever present goal of eating better and excercising more often...Planet Diet is now in orbit.  Once we cleared our minds of that certain universal truth, we came across the really interesting stuff.

    Setting goals or resolutions is a great way to reflect on where we have been, where we are and where we are going.  The goals we set say so much about our perspective on the world and what drives us.  Not only does it help us to understand ourselves better, but it also helps us to understand others.  

   This year, our 3 year old was ready to get in on the action.  When the conversation landed on her, she  informed us, with a fair amount of flourish, that she would like to be Belle and go to a farm in the New Year.  "Separately?  Or at the same time?" I asked.  "Seperately," she decidedly told her audience of adoring fanily (Fanily: Family who await, admire, and adore every action of a child or relation, with the same or greater fervor that would be awarded to a beloved sports team or celebrity.)  In the glow of her glistening cuteness, I considered pushing her for more info and more goals and more. More. MORE.  

     "Freeze!" I implored upon my impulse to project my own goals upon her .  This is great!  This is a mark of where she is at, how she understands the world and her desire to grow and do things she hasn't done before.  As an adult, those dreams and goals get wildly complicated and sometimes go out the window when met with any mite of adversity.             

     Therefore, in solidarity with my daughter's simple, well expressed desire for something of whimsy and something just beyond my normal everyday life, I am re-evaluating the way I make goals.  So many times we are measuring ourselves up to Nancy Neighbor (who is no longer just the Jones family who literally live next door.) Nancy is every Facebook post of smiling families, new jobs, vacations, engagements, and the like.  She isn't bad.  We just don't see her flaws.  She is that retouched, no dimension picture of a beautiful person made into something sterile and with a complete lack of uniqueness.  The blissfully simple goals of my 3 year old have not been tainted by the rounded off edges of social media...yet.  

     In the light of this moment, which took a fraction of a second to pass and 5 paragraphs to tell of, I am again washed over with a gratefulness for my daughter's unintentional, yet brilliant teachings.  

     My New Year's Goal will be to anchor all my goals and wishes in the beauty of simplicity.  A simplicity that isn't yearned for like something from a historical time long past.  A simplicity that isn't even contained by the holiness of childhood.  This simplicity is for the present version of everyone.  Empowering myself with this tool means that while I can be inspired by those around me, by technology and by events, the things that make me truly tick might be right under my nose.  

     Happy New Year!!!

   

     Lisa Marie Morabito Petersen

5 Reasons Why Cooking and Kicking-It With Your Kids is Cool.

5 Reasons Why Cooking and Kicking-It With Your Kids is Cool.

     As Thanksgiving approaches, we are planning a small meal at our house.  My 3 year old and husband went grocery shopping with me and she informed us that she "is a great idea maker!"  It took about an hour longer than usual as my team was distracted by anything shiny or sweet.
     And apparently, somewhere along the line grocery stores have had an identity crisis and are trying to be toy stores.  Stop it with the Barbies on the chip aisle!!! But that's a whole other blog.
     Back to my daughter's Thanksgiving menu, which includes chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes, and eggs.  She recently has navigated new territory in the kitchen.  Thinking outside the bowl now, she is very concerned with recycling and cleaning up. It's too much fun to see her really grasp the ideas that show up in the kitchen.  She wants to watch as the food changes in the oven and is super into the transformation of textures in mixing ingredients.  I just love seeing her process what we are doing together and the pride she feels from creating a great meal.

1. Mathematical, Scientific and Creative properties of cooking.  
Measuring, adding, dividing, separating, mixing, blending, dissolving, thickening, changing.  This is all terminology that crosses over from math into cooking and into science.  When you have a running dialogue with your kids in the kitchen, teachable moments arise and are in every fiber of your recipe.  Some parents feel they can't let their children help because something is sharp or hot.  Search for ways they CAN help.  My best stress-busting trick is to give my 3 year old a safe work space that is her own.  Setting up a place at the kitchen table or letting her stand on a stool next to me in the actual work-space of the kitchen creates pure joy in the eyes of my little girl.  Teaching how to use a measuring cup is one of the most useful tricks.  With precut potatoes, have them count how many pieces.  They are great at tearing off sprigs of rosemary or sprinkling on cheese.  With very little effort, there are plenty of important jobs that can be gifted to the children.  Let them get creative with their jobs! With their input, you may just come up with a surprise twist in a traditional recipe.  Or mess it up royally.  Then you've cooked up a great story, so...nothing lost!

2. Cooking up Convos with Kids.
When you do an activity together, you are creating lasting memories.  Cooking together creates a common experience that causes more than the dough to arise.  Taking the opportunity of waiting for something to bake, cool, or congeal is the perfect time to ask you kids questions and watch conversation arise out of these moments.   When it's time to chow down, we pile up the cell phones and I-things and look to each other for news.

3. Social Responsibility.
When the children realize that everyone has a part in creating the meal, it teaches them to appreciate the hard work that goes into it.  Cleaning up is an integral part in teaching social responsibility too.  In appreciation for the great meal, we all do our part to clean up and make a great environment in our kitchen for cooking once again.  We don't just use it up and move on to a new clean kitchen.  We aren't doing our kids any favors by cleaning up after them totally EVERY time.  You may do most of the clean up on heavy homework or game days, but kids have an opportunity to feel pride in having a clean house by making it that way.  I mean, who am I kidding?  My 3 year old pushes around a sponge which just evenly disperses the crumbs and gunk, but A for Effort. Affort.

4.  Love your environment.
Recycle.  Everything.  Recycle everything.  Teaching kids to appreciate the environment begins with a dialogue at home which manifests out of actions observed.  When you make recycling a habit at your home and infuse it with purpose, you can change the world.  The earth and your kids will thank you for it.

5. Saving $ and Gaining Piece of Mind.  
Listen, I enjoy the magic of eating out just as much as the next person.  We have long bouts when we are traveling, where eating out isn't as much a choice, but more of the only option.  I really do enjoy this too sometimes.  The catch is the expense and not knowing exactly what you are getting in that gravy.
     Our meals are not fancy, but the quality lies in the company as much, if not more than, the food.  Let's be honest though, if you are making time for dinner with family, no matter where it is, you are already accomplishing something great!

Everyday Storytelling in Families to Empower the Child.

Everyday Storytelling in Families to Empower the Child.

       Every parent tells the story of their child's birth through their perspective and that story is our evidence of the first impression we make on the world. My  mom's story for me was that she went to the hospital for a stress test and before she left to go home, she was in labor.  It was as if I said, "Welp, as long as your here...let's do this."  Thus me and , as my mother puts it, my cooperative nature were born.  I love this story and everyone's story of their children coming into the world.  It's  no accident that we start out the way we do.  Whether we remember it directly or not, surely the story has been told.  And whether it is the story in all it's gloriously simple reality or a broadened heightened version which serves as food for entertainment...the STORY itself surely shapes us.  Perspective has long been a potter of personality.  Being told we are something or did something has a lasting affect.  As adults, we discover that while it shapes us, it doesn't need to define us.  Interesting and complex, just when we have defined ourselves, along comes a new story, a new happening, a new experience that forces us to redefine ourselves.  

     With my own child, it becomes evident to me that she takes on stories we tell her and embodies traits defined by her past self in these stories.  We tell stories of her "great joke-telling abilities" to people and guess what?  This begets more jokes and increasing confidence as she tells them and tries new ones.  "A dinosaur rides in a car" is a Sophie original of her humorous imagery jokes followed by a slew of "Knock, knock" jokes.  Realizing the power we have in storytelling and the opportunity to encourage our children through positive reinforcement makes me absolutely tingle with gratefulness.  Knowing that power exists, we must use it wisely.  Telling certain stories around our children that we find particularly entertaining might not ALWAYS be the healthiest thing for their ego or growth as an interactive and social being.   It's important to weigh whether your humorous translation of "meltdown on isle 5" to an empathetic fellow mom is worth the laugh or if you child's radar on what's being said is going to make them feel embarrassment or a possible relegation to that behavior in the future because...after all,"This is just who she is or the way she acts."

     One of my daughter's favorite shows is "Super Why" on PBS.  The formula of each show has a character that "has the power to change the story."  She pretends to have this power as she makes up her own stories on the stage of our living room floor.  What a fantastic message to relay to our kids!

     Storytelling keeps traditions alive, families close, encourages positive experiences, provides tools for guidance, and broadens our experience by getting to know others by listening to stories.  So here's to encouraging friends and family to share their stories.  Give your child a culture through the storytelling experience...a culture and background to be proud of and to fill out in a positive way.   

      My family, like many of yours, is known for telling the same stories over and again.  This is a great tool to build character and relationships.   I love hearing stories about my grandfather picking cotton or running Morse code on a Navy ship, my dad training whales or serving as a small-town city councilman, my mom standing up for people and acting out compassion on a daily basis.  These stories weren't always told directly to me ,but were always floating around me.  They most definitely shaped how I viewed these family members.  Our little ones are all ears and very impressionable, so while storytelling might seem like it ends when you close the bedtime fairytale about "Jack and the Beanstalk", think again.  Stories are interwoven into our everyday life and become the fabric which defines us and holds us together.   

 

Parent Project: Magnetic Chalkboard

     At Sophie's dance studio, there is a chalkboard wall that calls to the children as they exit their class or wait for a sibling.  As I sat one day, watching the children play, I observed a young girl, who was barely 3 years old, take her chalk to the board and draw the letter A.  "You can do that at home," I heard her mother call from the exit,"Let's go."  She dropped the chalk and raced to her mom, leaving behind a bit of inspiration for me.  Hmm, I thought.  Where could I do a chalkboard wall?  The door seemed a perfect place for us, but you could really do this anywhere.   Just heed the warning from my friend who said, "Make sure your kids know that they are only allowed to draw on the chalkboard surface, otherwise you might end up with this..."

Hopefully you will end up with something more like this...

The items you will need to accomplish your goal are:

Sand paper.

Paint tray.

Small roller and two sponges to go on roller.

Painting tarp.

Two paint brushes for getting to the edge of the door precisely.

Magnetic Primer.

Chalkboard Paint (comes in many colors).

Chalk.

Eraser.

Directions.

Place tarp over floor.

Sand the surface.

Paint 3 thin layers of primer.  Each layer dries in 30 minutes.

Paint 2 layers of chalkboard paint.  Leave 4 hours between layers.

Once finished, leave to dry and set for 3 full days before using.

Do not forget to Treat Your New Chalkboard before using.

How to Treat Your New Chalkboard...kindly.  Ba, dum, ching!  

After the paint has set for 3 days, use the side of a piece of chalk and cover the entire board with a thin layer of chalk.  Then, wipe it down with a wet soft cloth. Create, draw, and play!

The Ballad of the Ballerina

The Ballad of the Ballerina.
A Sophie Petersen original work of live theatrical art, as depicted by her mommy, Lisa Morabito Petersen.

       My 3 year old and I have a weekly tradition of going to ballet class on Tuesday morning, followed by a trip to a neighborhood coffee shop.  Soph loves it because they have pink macaroons, bistro tables for two and a shop.
       My ballerina gracefully prances her way into the shop, which has an intimacy that recalls a French cafe.  In it, she looks like a living Degas portrait.  Her pink leotard and tutu bounce playfully and her giant round eyes bob with laughter and seem exceptionally large and beautiful today, as her hair sits in a perfect ballerina bun on top of her head.  The look is completed by a bedazzled mini tiara.
     We choose our snack and grab a table.  A steady stream of admirers pass by and remind Sophie how adorable she looks and inquire about her ballerina costume.  After we enjoy our pink and green macaroons, Sophie enjoys the freedom of choosing a children's book from a magazine rack at the front of the store..."All by her self." As Mommy, I love this feature to the shop because not only does it encourage us to bring our children to the quant shop, but to sit, read, and even stay a while.  Their selection for children are mostly books with heavy themes of being environmentally friendly and scientifically minded.  Oh, it makes me feel so smart and intellectual, I could squeak like a baby dolphin.  The book about invention is followed by a book about how aliens destroyed the world because they used all the resources irresponsibly.  Now that I have patted myself on the back for being such a great guiding mommy, we peruse the store.
     The store is filled with beautiful things...trinkets, candles, paintings, etc.  Deep in the store, one table is an oasis of children's books and toys.  Sophie is relieved when I give her the "ok" to touch the items on that table.  After she thumbs through a few books, she spots a notebook shaped tin with a picture of a ballerina on the front, containing (40+!!!!) magnets to design the dancer's scene.  She turns to me, with the tin hugged to her body. "Dress ups, Mommy!!! Can I take this home with me?  Please?" she says straddling a line of begging and sensibility just perfectly.  "We have so many toys at home Soph.  We just got some things yesterday at the store," I counter.  "But I want to play with this," she argues.  By this point, I am at the cashier prepared to pay for a friend's gift.
      As I turn to look at my daughter, she transports me into her tragedy.  All of the sudden, she becomes aware of the sad French song that is playing throughout the store.  She turns from me, defeated.  Her arms slump, her head hangs forward, and she drags her feet as she forces herself to return the toy to the table. As she gets a few feet from me, the music swells, she turns to me and holds out the toy with both hands, her eyes begging me to love her by buying her this.  She knows I have made up my mind, as she hugs the toy to her chest and dramatically turns toward the table.  She holds her position, as the singer quietly explains something in French.  To the beat of the ballad, Sophie does a trudge, trudge, trudge, trudge all the way to the table.  I laugh to myself, as I think that it almost worked on me. 
       As she lifts the tin, the singer and Sophie have clearly conspired against me.  She glides the tin over it's place on the table, spins to the neighboring table and places it down, with her mournful head on top. Sophie looks up, at just the right angle that might make you mistake her for a lost puppy.  She says nothing and although I don't speak French....I'm prrrrrrtetty sure the singer was narrating Sophie's dance with a "Why don't you love me.  If you loved me, you would buy me this."  Sophie continues her dance with the tin, to the French song.  I turn away, as I can feel my resolve melting by the soft ember burn of her perfectly executed ballet.
       "Bring it to the counter," I say still facing away.
       "What?" says a little voice infused with disbelief.
       "Well," I thought, "If she can't win a Tony for that performance, she should at least get a toy."
        In all seriousness, we, as parents, are constantly caught between the idea of wanting to give them the world and wanting to teach them how to deal with not getting everything they want.  It's a road well traveled and we all do our best.  Today, she showed me she had some real artistic determination and that...I just have to appreciate.  There's a lot of nuance in parenting...and apparently that is not lost on our children.  Enjoy it because, as they say, "It will all be over too soon."


*The picture is from last week's class, but it gives you an idea of what I'm working with here.  Pure cuteness.