Doors of Perception

I wonder what doors will be opening in response to the ones I keep approaching that are closed. I know it will happen and I am patient, but I am also curious.

Creatively, so much is happening that is also not happening. I’ve written and submitted several items for consideration and am in limbo. From an acting perspective, I had an idea for a small show and a big show and that idea was recently killed completely, but I am trying to figure out a way to repurpose the idea as a writer; maybe that is the different avenue, I don’t know. Me writing requires no participation from anyone else, so that’s a bonus, as there is nobody else to depend on but me. I was approached about auditioning for two different shows, one as an actor and one as a dancer, neither of which I can participate in as the timing does not work with my custody situation. Indeed, there probably is no performance, or almost none, in which I can participate since I am only available every other week/weekend. It’s confounding and frustrating. Unless I win the lottery such that I could afford a sitter for many hours several nights’ running, and want to sacrifice some of the precious two weeks a month I see my child via my participation, it’s not going to happen. And I didn’t win the lottery last night.

Just as I took up writing back in the early 90s when my illness forced me to give up acting completely, it seems I may almost be in that boat once again. I considered investing in new headshots if I were able to get to my weight loss goal, but now I think I will just not do that.

On the plus side, this morning was much better with the boy. I awakened him at 10 last night and made him go pee, which he was not terribly happy about but he did go back to sleep right after and didn’t wake up again, which was wonderful. And woke up dry. So hopefully this can continue. He was also less mean and whiny this morning, and got dressed almost without complaint. I nixed the two different shoes he had on and made him change into a matching pair. One walks a fine line between quirky kid dress choices and thinking that they’ll be whispering behind his back that his mother doesn’t pay any attention to how she dresses him, look how she lets him come to camp in two different shoes! He didn’t want me to leave this morning when I dropped him off and I felt bad that I had to, even though I know it’s good for him and he’ll have fun. And I remembered the money for the extra camp shirt – they have to wear their camp shirt once a week when they go on a field trip. But Mom, WHY do you need an extra shirt? I hate pointing out to him that it’s easier than sending the same shirt back and forth between Mom’s and Dad’s places every other week. He still misses his Dad a lot when he is with me, particularly the first couple of days, and I hear that it’s the same on the other side. Eventually it will be normal for him and he won’t remember a time when we all lived together, but in the meantime, I feel bad for being part of the reason he is sad. I have to trust that one day he will understand, and am at least glad he is doing as well as he is about the whole thing, as we approach a year of trading him back and forth like a ping pong. Just put in the time, I tell myself, and do the best you can. Love on him, make him use his brains and his hands. Cover him with sunblock in the morning on swim days, wash his hair and cut grapes and slice carrots for his lunch, and include a note telling him you’re thinking about him and that you hope he has a great day. That’s all I can do.


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