Roller Coaster

I've had an emotionally volatile weekend. I wrote pages and pages about it in my journal, and even though this is the fast version, it's still quite long. So unless you really care about me you might just want to skip to the end to see what happened.

Friday night:

Audition for Secret Garden produced by Musical Theatre Southwest, here in Albuquerque. Excited, nervous, anxious, can't wait to get it over so we can make some definite holiday plans. Receive a callback, but not for Lilly, or Martha, (the two parts I said I'd be willing to do.) I get called back for Alice. Never heard of Alice? Me neither, and I'm familiar with the show.

Come home. Brood about not getting a call-back for Lilly. (Not surprised about no call-back for Martha, because I sang a Lilly song to audition with and Lilly & Martha are totally different styles.) Talk to Arthur & my Dad about whether or not I can justify turning our lives upside down for a couple months for the part of Alice. Ultimately decide I can't.

Saturday Morning:

Cry (not gonna lie--I cried in the shower- a great place for a good cry,) because I realize what this means: I'll never get to participate in community musical theater since apparently, you can't skip the totem pole process of taking the smaller roles to get a bigger role. I don't have time for that. For me, it's go big or go home.

It's hard, but I decide, that essentially, I'm choosing to shelf that dream. I have found that when you choose to be a mother, some dreams get shelved. At the time it doesn't seem okay, but it always turns out worth it. As I'm in the shower, I remember this quote from the 2003 film Peter Pan.

Mrs. Darling: There are many different kinds of bravery. There's the bravery of thinking of others before one's self. Now, your father has never brandished a sword nor fired a pistol, thank heavens. But he has made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams.

Michael: Where did he put them?
Mrs. Darling: He put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them. And when it gets harder and harder to close the drawer... He does. And that is why he is brave.

I cry some more as I think about how brave I'm being. And also because I don't feel brave at all. Just selfish that I'm so disappointed about it and disappointed in myself for being selfish.

Saturday throughout the day:

Watch the semi-annual General Conference for our church where we hear modern day prophets and apostles speak and give counsel for our times. Very uplifting and inspiring. I have a testimony that those men are called of God. I feel validated in my choice, because I've chosen what's more important.

Have moments where the kids are crying and whining and hanging on my legs, and complaining and fighting, and making messes. Think about how unglamorous it all is. Feel sorry for myself.

Make sugar cookies with the kids, watch them play together, listen to their laughter, look at how beautiful they are. Think about how blessed I am to be a mother and how I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Go to bed resolved to attend the call-backs, explain why if I don't get a more substantial part, I won't be able to participate, & ask for another shot at Lilly--with no hope for success. It's just for me to know that I didn't roll over and give up.

Sunday:

Watch conference again, of course, have lunch with friends, watch more conference, and then head down to the call-backs. I dress in jeans and t-shirt because I don't care anymore.

Execute my aforementioned plan. To my surprise, the director says, "Sure, I understand. You can try for Lilly again."

I can?

I thought he'd tell me "Well then go home, you Diva. Don't waste any more of our time." (Or something like that.) Now I wish I'd worn a skirt, like the other Lillys, (who were both tall, graceful, beautiful, ethereal, AND both had done the role before.) So I sing & read for Lilly & Alice too, (just so I can get more exposure). Vocally, I am competitive with the other Lillys but they win in the stage presence department. It's hard to be short and ethereal.

Then another surprise.

The director consults with the music director and after a minute, pulls me aside and asks if I'd be willing to stay after and read & sing for Martha. (She's a fun and quirky major supporting role who is actually my favorite character in the play.) I say I'd love to. Fast forward to that part: They ask me, "How is your belt voice?" I laugh (because I've had no belt training at all) and say "I'll give it a shot." They seem satisfied with my imitation belt voice. I nail the reading and go home feeling pleased that auditions went better than I'd anticipated.

An hour later I get a phone call saying they'd like me to be Martha!

I calmly and happily accept, hang up the phone, and then hop around squealing and giggling like a little girl while Arthur laughs with/at me, and hugs me.

Monday 5:00 a.m.

Wake up early because I am so excited, I can't sleep. Start laundry and blog. Figure out how to best organize my time to make sure I really pull my weight around here since Arthur is being so supportive in taking responsibility with the kids while I'll be at lots of rehearsals.

I'm not feeling sorry for myself today. Slightly guilty though. Because now I wonder if maybe it's kind of selfish of me to do this? But mostly just excited, grateful for my heroic husband, and glad that I had decided I was willing to give it up if it came down to it.

For those of you in the area, mark your calendars for a really great family show. The story and music are beautiful! The performances are December 11-13, 18-20, and 26 & 27. It's a busy time of year, but you won't want to miss it. Info for purchasing tickets can be found at www.musicaltheatresw.com.

let the craziness begin.