That was Fun!?

Okay, so that was an experience.

My shy daughter in a theatre with no mics. She did well. She did not cry, waller me to death, freak out or back out. She got up there, introduced herself, and read a one line part.

I'm so proud of her!

She must be sloughing off adrenaline now...going through the house very tempernmental at every little thing: "I WANTED TO SIT BY DADddddddYYYYYyyyy!"

Now, why couldn't she speak up on the stage like THAT?!

Red went with us. He decided he wanted to try out with sis.

Oh my word, a social disaster...but, not to worry, only the entire town was there.

I looked like one of those Moms trying to force her 4 yr. old to do something he didn't want to do...the kind of Mom we all love and adore.


He made it up the first to stairs-- then went into meltdown on my leg.

We tried to explain that the play is for children who enjoy the stage, not ones who can hang on their mother's leg and freak out. He didn't get it.

So, while we waited for sis to try to show her stuff (pulling at her eyelids and eyeballs waiting for her turn...heyfever? I'm trying to motion for her to stop. "What?!" She's gesturing back.) The whole "mommy pressure" thing appearing to happen, yet again. Just SMILE or something. Pointing to mouth. No...hands down, DOWN. (Good grief, just put her in a beauty pageant and hang me why don't you? No, life development skills here, people, stage presence. It's NOT the same thing...IT'S FOR CHRISTMAS for crying out loud. Christmas. Mild, beautiful, child like Christmas...Red, would you stop it if you make one more cry or sound I'm taking you to the bathroom. Cry. Pinch. I mean it...clenched teeth, sister is doing good! See? Shhh.) URgh.

He kept getting worse and worse and worse. Effects of stage fright.

The director finally turned and whispered to me (on the front row) that it would be okay if we went on home...if we wanted to.

Shoot...with sis finally brave enough to be on stage, reading? "I'm the best reader in my class, she told them" when they asked if she thought she was old enough to audition a reading part. First grade...gotta love that.

She was the one going into meltdown last year for the church Easter pageant. Now, she finally made it up there. Confident. Bragging.

Nope, she's staying. Red...well, I'll just keep pinching him.

Finally, it got too bad, I grabbed in for the "march out to the foyer." He screamed the whole way, tears streaming... "I CANNNnnnnnnn't! I WANnnnnnt to, but I Caaaaannnnn't Dooooo Itttttt!"

I'm a good mother. I'm a good mother. I'm a good mother. I am supporting my children.

I'm trying to figure out what kind of punishment this is, but I'm sure I got a star in my crown.
All in all, we're a supportive, if not disruptive family.

My pastor's wife truly is "The Drama Queen"...she says it's going to be fun and we all believe her! You'd think I'd catch on! Gee, I'm gullible. Years from now, I'll probably look back on the memory fondly when my children are dramatically leading the world to Christ by storm on some large stage somewhere. A girl can dream.

Progress was made. I am home, and safe within my own walls, we can practice our "dramatic vocal chords together".

There are sure some kid sunshine's out there. Cute!!!! Not sure if I envy the mothers or not!
Desperate! Meg was a hoot! (Glad to have someone to substantiate the validity of this story! I need chocolate, and your coffee, and some chocolate. CHOCOLATE! You're still off exercising anyway!)


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