Saturday, May 2, 2009

Silly Crazy


Last night, I would say, was a resounding success. The play went unbelievably well. It was, as we all kept saying backstage, our best rehearsal ever! We nailed our lines, the audience laughed and laughed, and we all pushed our cartoon characters to a new level of silliness.

My kids said it was the best play they'd seen at the Opera House even though it made no sense whatsoever. I could hear them laughing and that helped so much. Mr. Moon really wants to know if I'm bringing those shoes home after the play's run is over.

After the performance, we call came back here and had birthday cake for HoneyLuna and my mother. Mother turned 82, HoneyLuna, 20. Aren't they darling? I had made the sweet potato cake with caramel frosting and it was delicious. When sweet potatoes become the new super-food, I'm going to go into business making and selling these things.

It was strange though. When I woke up this morning, I had had bad dreams with people that I love standing in to represent other people and it was just a maze and a morass of wrong-roads taken, misunderstandings, and being let down. I know it all sprang from having my mother at the play last night. She had a wonderful time, I know, because she said so over and over, but she never once told me I'd done a good job, that I'd been a great Natasha. She just can't seem to do that. And despite all my grown-up logic and knowing why and how, there is still the little girl inside me that wants my mommy to tell me I did a good job. All the praise from all the others means nothing compared to that need and disappointment when it doesn't happen and my soul feels so heavy today, even though DownTownGuy spent the night and it's so nice having him here and it's a beautiful Saturday and everything is quite lovely.

And why? Come on. I don't need her approval. I don't need her praise.
But of course I do. It's natural. It's ridiculously natural to want it.

Well. I have the praise of my children and my castmates and I have the praise of my husband. On the form the audience members had to fill out to give their choice of who-done-it and why, Mr. Moon wrote, "Natasha. Because she has killer legs."

I need to go take a walk and sweat some of this craziness out. Check out the blackberries and see if they're starting to ripen. Get in the yard and pull some weeds.
And then tonight I'll put on that red dress and the high heels and and the make-up and I'll be Natasha for a group of strangers and it'll all be fine.

Meanwhile, I sort of want to cry and I hate myself for that. Beating myself up for wanting what I can't have, even though I have so much, and this feels way too familiar and I so wish it didn't.

12 comments:

  1. Awe Mar,

    Please, no beatings. It's not your shortcoming, and I know you know that intellectually, but you have to try to tell your heart that people don't always communicate directly as we'd like. I have had to do this same thing with my mother who is stingy with praise. She only praises others to me, as I assume she praises me to others... (Wouldn't want my head to get too big and explode now would we?)

    Anyway, what I'm saying is while I get where you are, you can turn it around too. Maybe her saying she had a good time and obviously doing so, was saying that you did a great job... in her mind anyway. I am sorry she can't say the actual words though.

    Sweat it out girl, sweat it out!
    love you,
    pf And break a leg tonight!! Natasha's a hot little number!

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  2. Congrats on the successful performance!
    I think that a lot of people are like that, me included. I'll never say I'm not happy, there's just this icky feeling in my gut that I'm always doing everything wrong...I can't explain it, just is always that way.
    It's great to get on stage and just be someone else for awhile, hope there's continued success with that!

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  3. i would have been lovely to have seen those legs in action!

    in other news: as you know, my parents are in town. and im showing them what i do, my office, explaining to them in more detail my job, yadda yadda yadda. well, i too was not hearing that they were proud. i was hearing they missed me and are sad that i live so far away. (which has some nice undertones, and i feel that they care, but i had hoped they would be proud). when i told them i have made the decision to get my masters, my mom replied with "no? seriously? how long do you think you will be out here away from us then?"

    it was sort of disappointing when disappointment is their first reaction. so i thought i would just throw it out there and i did. i asked them. I said, "are you proud of me?" and they answered with a big happy smiling "yes!"

    im wondering if my folks maybe just dont know how to tell me. that maybe they just dont know how to say it. but i needed to hear it. you are right, the little kid in us wants to make our parents proud, wants to know mom and dad think we did a good job.

    another thing i recently have been learning is the importance of being proud of myself. even when i dont get the positive feedback, or encouragement from others, in the ways i want. i think for many years, other peoples opinions of me mattered far more than my own opinion of myself. but im learning a lot in these days, and that is changing.

    ms. moon, it sounds to me like you are proud of yourself! and many others were proud of you too. think upon these things today. on the joy that brings.

    but know, its also okay to cry. to hurt. to feel the pain of not getting what our hearts so badly long for.

    you are beautiful.

    -tanya

    ps. my word verification is "prout", which i find absolutely ironic, being that the subject of this comment is being "proud". similiar... and if you say prout fast, it sounds like you are saying proud...
    ok, enough silliness!

    be well, my friend!

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  4. I'm so glad to hear the play went well.
    As for mothers.....it's your mother who is the root of a lot of your 'crazyness.' But, what are you going to do - argue with/confront an 82 year old? It's sad that you missed the opportunity to have an adult conversation with her - about 10 or 20 years ago, and to ask her why she let certain things happen. She knows what she did, but I'm not sure she knows why she did what she did or will ever be able to talk about it with you.

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  5. Ms. Fleur- Thank-you, honey, for reminding me.

    Erin- It is fun to play someone else. I was just telling Mr. Moon that when I see pictures of "Natasha" I am quite surprised to see she looks exactly like me! I don't feel like me at all when I am playing her. And what a relief!

    Learner- At least they made it very clear that they want you to return home, nearer to them! I'm proud of you for asking if they were proud of you. I'm so glad you have loving parents. I am so glad.

    MOB- I think you're right and I'll be discussing this soon, I'm sure when I can bring myself back to talk about it all. I did try to confront/discuss years ago. It led to nothing but my desire never to discuss anything with her again. Which makes me feel so guilty.

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  6. Mrs Moon, it is said that our parents can only bring us as far in terms of self esteem, as they were brought themselves.

    The good news is that you can bring yourself further, and get what you need from yourself. It's all our tasks, really, self-parenting. You're doing a good job. I suppose real parents plunge us back into old patterns.

    This reminds me of the play I did in school, at maybe 14. I thought I did great. My parents came to see it, and in the car, pulling out of the car park, I asked them what they thought. My father said it was great, then proceeded to lecture me on what I could do to improve it - a not so subtle message that I hadn't been great at all. I remember physically, sitting in the back seat behind him, tears and disappointment throbbing in my throat and chest, stinging my eyes as I bent my head and tried not to cry.

    The thing is, he was trying to help. That's what he did. I catch myself continuously doing the same thing with my daughter. I hate it, but it's automatic. Arg!! At least I see what I'm doing, I really don't think he got it.

    Affirmations! 'Even though I miss my mother's praise, I did a great job and I'm proud of myself'.

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  7. Guilty for what, by the way? For not righting wrongs against yourself? Or because she needed to know.

    Again, I think it is immensely helpful to look at what you feel guilty about, why it happened, and give yourself some sympathy and understanding. Why did I do that? What needs of mine were unmet that caused it? It was hard for me to experience that, how can I fill that need in myself so that I feel and act differently?

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  8. It was the best play we've seen at the opera house because you had the best lead role. As Natasha, we got to see our mama be sassy, sexy, wicked, and funny. You were so spot on with every line, every facial expression, the way you moved... You were actually believable as this ridiculous character, you breathed life into her and made her real. I like the plays and the players at the Monticello Opera House, but some of the actors only appear to enjoy saying things they memorized in loud voices. You played the thing. You danced in Natasha. You were hilarious.
    Oh, and people here won't be surprised that the lines YOU made up were the best and funniest parts of the whole damn play.

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  9. Ms. Jo- You have good advice and when I went to put on my Natasha garb tonight I found myself cheering up immensely. I don't need my mother's praise. I KNOW what I know and I know I am doing a fine job with this silly little role and it makes my life so much richer.

    Miss Maybelle- Goodness! I don't even know what to say. I had such a good time playing Natasha in front of my family. She's so different than your mama that it's easy to step into her and let myself not worry about it. Thank-you for all those beautiful words. It's funny- playing Natasha I realize how very complex and difficult it was to play all those different characters I played in Later Life and how really, I wasn't quite up to that task. But I did my best with that, too, even if it was hard.
    But this is fun.

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  10. Of course you have a need for her approval, she's your mother, and it's the way things are in human nature. Wish I had the words for you, but I know there aren't any to make it different than it is.
    Wish I could have seen the play, I bet you did an absolutely fabulous job of it!!

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  11. *hugs*

    I'm too out of it to say anything smarter. Love you, Ms. Moon. Lots.

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  12. Oh, Ms. Moon. I do know what you mean about the mother, I SO do.

    I would like to tell you that it doesn't really matter what she thinks and to just put it out of your head.

    But I won't because I know how it will gnaw at you anyway. I'm sorry that there has to be the cloud in the sky of an otherwise perfect day.

    But, I am so glad your play was a smash. I hope you do keep your witchy shoes!

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.