Once a mother, always a mother...

Last night my daughter and I attended a fascinating ballet in Indy.  We shared our evening with another mother/daughter pair.  The four of us had dinner and then continued up to Clowes Hall on the Butler campus to watch Alonzo King's LINES Ballet in performance with the Shaolin Monks of China presenting: Long River, High Sky.  The link I just added is old...from 2007, but you'll get the gist of the show.  It was a blend of eastern meets western culture.  Martial arts and ballet, masterly blended as one.  Different, yet the same.  Mr. King shows the world how similar these two art forms are through his choreography.  Long River, High Sky defined the beautiful control the monks and dancers had over their bodies.  Precision, geometrics, grace, sensuality, power are just a few of the emotions all on stage conveyed.     

If you get a chance to see this show, GO!  

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Although what was happening on stage was quite captivating, I had another little show I witnessed before and then at intermission.  

When my oldest was born, my life certainly changed.  I added to my list of what I am the label of "mother".  As my children age, my husband is constantly reminding me that I am not just a mother.  I find it hard at times to remember that fact.  Before the performance last night I sat with my daughter, her friend and her friend's mother on my left.  On my right sat a college age boy and then a college age girl (read two 19-20 year olds here).  I like to read the program before the show; educate myself on the dancers history, or the story line.  What I noticed was that the female two seats away from me must have purchased the tickets she and her date occupied.  She was dressed up, he was not.  She was excited about the night, he kept making snide comments and texting others on his cell phone.  I also think she was in heat.  Her hands kept pawing at the gentleman between us while he sat (literally) on both of his!  This poor girl wasn't reading his body language very well.  I felt a sense of relief when the lights dimmed for act one.  

Then came intermission.  We all stayed in our seats.  All six of us...the three with me, me, college-boy and female-in-heat.  My daughter and her friend were busy chatting among themselves.  I tried to read my program, but the show next to me was making the mom in me find it hard to bite my tongue!  

I thought rationally it was not my place to speak, and then I though as a mom I needed to speak up!  I looked directly at the girl one space away from me and I spoke firmly and directly as I looked into her eyes, her hand planted solidly in place, "Can I tell you something?"  "Sure" "See that person on the other side of me?  That's my fourteen year old daughter and as a mother I would feel much better if someone would take their hand off of someone else's...certain area."  "OH! (hand quickly retreats)  I'm sorry!"  "No need to be sorry.  I don't mean to be a prude, and in the proper place you all would be fine.  This is just not the proper place."  

I am sure all of our cheeks were flushed after that conversation.  I definitely sensed the relief in the seat on my right as he closed his legs and kept his knees my way once the lights dimmed for act two.  

Later that night my daughter commented on the event..."I heard you mention me to that other couple."  

Yep.  

Fine lines...

I love to watch General Hospital. It's been one of my favorites for over twenty years. I did try to stop watching it when our children were young. Complaints that young ears and eyes shouldn't been exposed to certain issues and visuals on TV did guilt me. Taping it and watching it at a later time back then just didn't work; definitely not enough hours in the day when kids are young. There was a time when I knew all the lyrics to every song on Barney. A proud moment back then for me, although certainly weird when I think about it now. Mom's...that's how we are.

As my children are aging I realize I watch less and less television, others control the remote and I won't battle that battle. I rarely turn on the TV during the day because there a so many other things that need my attention in my time alone. If the TV comes on I will sit and watch, then nothing gets accomplished. I don't really like to watch repeats either. Public Radio fills my ears and days. I like it that way. Even though I could watch my soap now while my hubby is at work and the kids are at school, I just find it hard to sit and vegge-out. Too many years of being conditioned to get things done when you can...and besides, I love the DVR. How cool to skip commercials or watch details over and over or just be able to hit pause while I answer the phone. So daily the DVR records my vice.

While I am cooking in the kitchen or late in the evening while knitting and trying to relax I like to catch up on the lives of those in Port Charles. My 13 year old knows all the characters too! Just as Barney was a tool to teach..."clean up, clean up, everybody every where..." my soap is a teaching tool as well. Yes my face can redden over certain issues: faulty condoms, one-night stands, compromising visuals...but I look at these reddening moments as times to teach. I am not shy about voicing my opinions or asking, "what do you think of that?" I also point out the differences of reality versus fantasy. After all, my soap is fictional. That said, I realise the writers of my favorite show need to get their material from someplace.

Yesterday I was with my daughter in a craft store when the young ladies behind us started having a conversation that caught our ears. The girls were in their mid-twenties. I didn't look at them because I certainly never want to see them again and have the opinions I was forming rear their heads. The first says to the other, 'I am 23 and dating a guy that's 43...can you believe that?' The second says, 'that's nothing I was dating a 49 year old when I was 23 and he was my neighbor.' Boy, did my daughter and I share a funny look and our ears perked up even more! I bit my tongue in commenting to these young vixens. It was more fun to listen to them and share this moment with my daughter! The second girl went on to say that this guy proposed to her and she accepted, but two days later she changed her mind. He had bought her a ring too but it worried her to wear it because he'd spent $50,000.00 dollars on it. GIVE ME A BREAK! I wanted to laugh out loud. This story almost seemed believable too until I heard the price of the ring and number 2 continued by saying that her "boyfriend" always kept his doors unlocked...except for the night she went to break up. It was two in the morning and she found things locked up tight. Naturally she did the logical thing and she crawled through the doggie-door, then woke him and broke the news to him. Too funny!

The conversation my daughter and I had as we returned to our car was about the age difference first. Tried as I might, picturing my 43 year old self with someone 20 years my younger is hysterical! Oh, I could certain get a 23 year old, but what would his problems be? To be interested in someone 20 years older than himself, he would certainly have issues! Then, no one spends $50,000.00 dollars on an engagement ring. And if they did...how STUPID was this chick to let him go! If he had that kind of money for a ring he must certainly have more for other things. Dumb, dumb, dumb!

Finally, my daughter and I talked about the fact that these girls felt the need to talk in public about this personal stuff. They definitely were trying to make themselves feel better. Talk about having issues!

My daughter and I went home sipping our frappachinos and turned on the DRV so we could watch our friends in Port Chuck. Maybe fantasy mimics reality more than I like to admit! :)