It’s Roan’s Spring Break. Which means we’ll be partying like this all week:
It means we’ll be partying like this:
Today we’re kicking the first day of Spring Break off at “The Coop” a “modern / stylish” indoor/outdoor play area in Studio City that looks like this:
It is owned by an ex-model-esque Australian woman and is the antidote to indoor play areas like this:
Sometimes when I look around the Coop I feel it’s a little “too cool” what with these tiny plastic chairs as decor and the array of British and New Zealand issues of Elle and Vogue magazine strewn about.
The same three Adele songs are playing over and over on a loop.
At the same time Child-Friendly Techno music blasts from the ball pit.
It is kind of nice to be in this color coordinated, garden party feel of a space as opposed to say, Chuck E Cheese. (Which, of course, Roan loves equally.)
The Coop supplies a number of unique costumes. Today Roan has played digital dodge ball dressed as a frog, jumped in the bounce house while dressed as a Pterodactyl, and hidden in the ball pit dressed as an an Octopus Man. He’s sweaty and delighted.
Of course it’s beautiful just outside the coop—and Roan spends some time wandering around looking for four leaf clovers.
But like a true Californian who takes for granted the fact that he can play outdoors year round— it’s back inside to the various apparatus.
At one point I’m in the bounce house sitting being tossed in the air back and forth and Roan says, “Mama, watch this!” and does some sort of leap. “Wow, Roan that’s great!” I say. Then, this very cute little child, starts saying to me, “Mama! Watch This!” I say, “Wow!” Then the child continues on and on, “Mama! Watch This! Mama! Hey MAMA!”
I don’t want to say, “I’m not your mama. Where is your mama?”
Instead I have a surge of estrogen and want to adopt this adorable child who is so sweetly calling ME Mama.
But then the child’s real mama comes and it’s one of my favorite actresses. Ashley Samantha Jensen. She’s Scottish, known for playing alongside Ricky Gervais on British shows like, “Extras.”
We chat for a while. “What’s your son’s name?” She says in a thick Scottish drawl. “Roan” I say. “Ahhh, Rooooowwan” she says. “What is he? About 7?” she asks. “Oh, no, just 5, he’s very tall.” “My goodness yes he is!” I want to say, “I love your work” but I’m nervous for some reason and don’t want to make her feel awkward, although she’s so down to earth I have the feeling she would have appreciated it.
Believe it or not, people come up to ME saying, “I saw your show at the Groundlings, I liked it” or whatever, from time to time and of course I appreciate it, so why shouldn’t she? But she’s a celebrity— and perhaps me bringing that up to her would ruin her nice day out being Mommy. I wonder how she finds America, Studio City, and this color coordinated play area. She seems to love it.
For the most part it’s moms with their kids, although there are a few nannies.
One nanny has a disfigured face and as she tries to feed the child she is taking care of the little boy gently strokes his nanny’s scarred cheek. She’s feeding the child from a large plate of rice, peas and chicken. Roan’s eating dehydrated apples and a fruit roll up. He kisses me on the lips.
When I’m at places like these I have to say, I’m having fun. But every so often the thought crosses my mind, “Wow, I’m REALLY a MOM. I mean, I don’t have a job. Should I have a job? I should have a job. The moms who have sent their kids here with nannies are probably at their really interesting fulfilling jobs wearing suits and running coroprations (for some reason that’s what I picture them doing.) And here I am with my kid in a bounce house. That’s my identity. Didn’t shower today. Oh, wait, I forgot - next week I’m teaching Improv all week. And performing in shows. And working towards getting my children’s book published. Which is so fulfilling. So I’m working next week, oh yeah. Oh, wait oh boo, I won’t be able to come here next week. :( I’ll miss Roan.”
Always on the wrong side of the fence it seems… So today I’m just going to enjoy being here. With disfigured Nannies, Scottish actresses and adorable arrangements of succulents.