Anyone of you around this area (As in…my blog, not North Alabama) last Spring probably remembers a little musical that took over our lives called Seussical. Although E spent his entire freshman year exploring the world of Theatre, the last few weeks before that musical was my baptism by fire. I found myself doing things I never knew I could do: Painting sets, pinning costumes, and doing makeup. I learned new vocabulary and terminology. (Note: A “costume parade” is not an actual parade of kids in their costumes around the school. If you tell your drama kid child you thought that’s what it was, he will laugh at you and the idea of having a parade in high school. A “costume parade” is simply when the characters line up on stage in their costumes and the costumer and director make final touches/adjustments.) E’s hobby, which he explored and developed without any help from any of us, basically changed my life. I made new friends and had a world full of experiences I’ll never forget.
Late last year I was invited to join the board for the theatre parents association for the high school. I was so excited I screamed a little. These parents do not mess around. As anyone in the drama department will tell you – the productions couldn’t happen without the parents. The theatre program gets no extra money or even staff – it’s basically run by parents, students, and the few theatre teachers who work gobs of overtime for no extra pay. To be invited to join that team? Was an honor.
THEN…this week I got an email from the woman I have watched basically run everything during Seussical. She was one of the producers of that musical and she was the president of the theatre parents association last year. This year, her daughter is a senior so she’s winding down her obligations. She sent me an email…asking me to shadow her during this year’s musical so I can take over as producer next year.
I’ll let that sink in for a moment.
Next year I’ll be a producer for the spring musical for my son’s high school. E’s hobby, which I’ve watched him thrive at, has totally given me my own world to be proud of. I don’t have to be proud of only him anymore, I get to be proud of us. This is officially our thing now. And if you have a teenager? You know how hard those unifying things are to come by. As your child gets older, you just don’t do stuff together anymore. No matter how close you are. But this? He was almost (ALMOST) as excited as I was. Next year, the year he’ll need me NOT AT ALL as he’ll be able to drive, that will be the year we do this as a team. And I can’t wait.
And that? That brings me to the point of this entry. Today? Are the auditions for this year’s musical: Beauty and the Beast. This is the headshot E has attached to his audition papers. The papers I’ll be collecting as a volunteer parent along with other volunteer parents who I now call friends. I didn’t sleep well last night I was so nervous, and I am positive he didn’t either. We’ll find out first thing tomorrow if he made it for call-backs (which I’m sure he will!) and then we’ll find out first thing Monday if he got cast. Everyone keeps asking him what he’s auditioning for and he says, “I’ll take anything.” And he means that. He loved being part of the ensemble last year and if that’s where he gets put again this year? He’ll be 100% fine with that.
So…I tell him and all of the other amazing kids…to break a leg. That was the hardest thing last year, getting myself out of the habit of saying, “Good L&ck” to these kids. (I’m not sure if the superstition that it’s bad luck extends to random parent’s blogs in type, so I’m covering my bases as to not ruin E’s audition.) BREAK A LEG. BREAK A LEG. BREAK A LEG. Rule #1 of being a theatre parent – Don’t wish anyone good l&ck! I did accidentally several times last spring and no one said anything, but I could tell they all wanted to. Damn newbie.
BUT NO MORE. Now I can’t even tell MrZ good l&ck for his triathlons because I’m worried I’ll jinx him. I don’t say, “Break a leg,” either though – that just seems cruel. I just smile and mumble something indecipherable. Because that’s supportive.
Anyway…auditions. Today. Break a leg, E. I know you’ll do great.