And On Mondays We Do Ballet
Just after Madelyn turned one, she really chippered up around music. As soon as her body was ready, she started to move, bouncing her legs and flapping her arms. Soon the head bob played a big part in her dancing, and by the time she finished up two gigs as flower girl in two different weddings six months apart, she was essentially a baby version of Beyonce.
I knew I’d sign her up for dance lessons, but the local studios don’t start taking kids until they’re about three. Also, they’re really expensive and I really don’t think her intense ABT training needs to commence at two years old. I did a search in our local parks and rec and found a mommy & me ballet class. The price was right, the commitment was reasonable, and even I’d get to train like a pro make a fool out of myself, too. Plus, how hard could it be?
And come on, have you seen toddler ballet clothes? They are SO cute.
Mommy circa 1987 and Madelyn for-sure 2013 modeling pretty ballet clothes before going to class.
The week before class started, our sweet friend who’s a local dance teacher with the cutest daughters ever gave us several pairs of dance shoes, including ballet shoes in Madelyn’s current size. It was so perfect! I got her a leotard at Target and knew she could wear tights we already had.
I, on the other hand, lost sleep the night before the first class because I don’t have proper ballet shoes except for the old lady, knock-off Isotoner slippers my grandma gave me after she cleaned out her closet (“Here, Ali. For your dancing. These will help you with the steps.” Thanks?…). And I certainly don’t have any official ballet costumes (they didn’t have adult tutus at Target), and would I have to wear my hair in a bun? Because I really don’t look good without my hair down. Of course I wasn’t too afraid of the toddlers giving me the eye. And the teacher, I’m sure, would be very accepting and understanding of a mommy’s busy schedule and her ballet clothing inventory. It was the other moms, of course, that I was dressing for, and I didn’t want to be THAT mom; the one who went all-out with the ballet attire, but also not at all dialed in to the cause.
So I went with my regular mom uniform: black yoga pants, an everyday shirt, and hair half up. I felt it suggested movement and a familiarity with physical fitness without trying too hard. You know, totally a naturale.
I talked up ballet for 48 hours before the class so that by the time we had to be there, Madelyn would be stoked for the new environment.
The first thing I did was breathe a sigh of relief that some moms wore legit ballet shoes and some went barefoot. Most of them also wore my same mom uniform and one or two were in jeans and a top like they’d been out doing other things with, ya know, a life. (Oh you mean this isn’t an all day Broadway chorus workshop? Phew!). I did slip off the faux Isotoners once I saw the bare feet option. Sorry, Grandma.
Madelyn was shy, at first, not willing to do much. She sat on the sidelines and watched, but since it wasn’t Mommy & Me Watching Ballet and we were supposed to actually be doing what the teacher told us, I modeled the behavior I wanted her to have and she just sat back and watched me get my ballet on. So, me, and a bunch of moms and their cooperative daughters and the teacher; it mostly sucked when I had no partner to stretch and sway and do tippy-toe circles with.
Finally, Madelyn warmed up enough to leave her post, but instead of joining the group, she ran around the room like a banshee. She literally galloped across the floor, marking her territory in all four corners of the room with squeals and very loud “singing.” I tried to scoop her up, but she was like a puddle and would not cooperate.
I was really thrilled that I was paying for Madelyn to pretty much do the exact opposite of the class: It was all “mommy,” no “me,” and basically everything but pretty ballet movement. I could see it right then and there: The Toddler Marla Hooch, they’d call her. Ugh.
I’ll tell ya what. I got a sweet workout and my glutes were sore for days.
I spoke to the teacher after class, apologized profusely, and she told me not to worry and it was normal because it’s all completely new to the kids: the space, the structure, the movement. Apparently, a strong enjoyment for dancing to “Blurred Lines,” (or, “Hey Hey Hey” as Madelyn calls it) does not a ballerina make. At least, automatically.
But she told me not to quit, to come back, and eventually she’d get used to the environment.
So we came back.
Madelyn and Lovey perform lifts a la pas de deux. (yes, we speak French now).
Madelyn “chassés” across the floor… with Lovey.
How do you say “monkey in the middle” in French? Because we also play that in ballet in order to coerce the toddlers to stand on tippy toes.
Madelyn improvises eighth position.
And each week, Madelyn improved immensely. Her banshee portrayal only lasted that one class, and each class she participated more and more. The only problem is that halfway through the 50-minute class, she gets tired because it’s her nap time, but she’s been a real trooper and has been able to sleepily carry on, even if a little clumsy. She sometimes gets a little shy about participating, but the teacher said I should do whatever makes her feel comfortable, so Madelyn ends up doing a lot of partner dancing with her pink Lovey. And I feel like it’s the best deal ever at a 3-for-the-price-of-1 bargain.
I continue to wear my Lululemon pants and bare feet, the moms are super nice and their girls are all darling, and Madelyn makes huge steps, or, pas de marché, each week as her moves improve.
We practice at home — tippy toes, butterfly arms, sways, curtsy, chassé, pretty fingers, marching — and she really seems to enjoy it. I’ve also noticed that it’s strengthening her core and leg muscles, which her physical therapist has even noticed!
I hope Madelyn continues to want to dance, and while I won’t push her to do activities she doesn’t really feel, I think dance is a beautiful and important way to build confidence and have fun, two super important focuses I want for my daughter.
Our second session of classes begins next week and I didn’t hesitate to sign up again. These “mommy & me” type classes only last for so long and soon she’ll be going to school, so we have to enjoy them together as long as we can. I love watching her blossom in class and ya know, these old glutes of mine are looking pretty good.
It’s really hard to pick our favorite ballet move.
A League of Her Own
Now that the dust has settled on the baseball season and I’m [mostly] emotionally recovered from Clayton Kershaw’s spectacular NLCS meltdown and the thrill of seeing the
“emotionless” Cardinals lose the World SeriesBoston Red Sox win their first World Series at Fenway in 95 years, I’ve been able to reflect on what turned out to be a very special season of baseball for me.It’s true that even before Madelyn was born, I was planning her Dodger fandom, and we started her at a very early age with her first baseball game in seats that will spoil her for the rest of her life. But I think this was the season where we solidified the Dodger Blue blood in Madelyn’s veins — Tommy Lasorda would be proud.
The season started out, though, the same as any other. Like every year before this one (but especially this one with the enormous expectations of the new Dodger ownership), I started the spring with high hopes for season. I signed up for my two fantasy baseball leagues, got excited every night to watch the games on TV, and showed my usual childlike jubilee at the mere sound of Vin Scully’s signature “It’s time for Dodger baseball!”
It was less than two weeks after Opening Day that my first lasting memory from the season occurred, and it wasn’t a pretty one. I remember being extremely amped up after Greinke was injured in the brawl with the Padres — I read a ton of articles, got vocal on Facebook, and watched whatever clips of news and opinions about the mound-charging that I could. And while this incident was the not the sole reason for the Dodgers’ historic spring collapse, it seemed to be the catalyst for mine.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AcrAhpx47do
By the end of May, I was in full avoidance mode. I don’t think I’ve followed baseball less in my adult life than I did between May and June of 2013. You practically could not pay me to watch a baseball game it seemed. And while the Dodgers’ 23-30 record on June 1st certainly contributed to my lack of interest, it wasn’t the only reason for it. I mean, I’m used to having low expectations so I can deal with regular mediocrity and losing — I’m a lifelong Dodgers fan! This year I think it was just life getting in my way. Between both my job and my daughter requiring more and more attention, I just found myself not able to make the time to watch the game, set my fantasy lineup, or even read the box score the following morning. To top it all off, Alison and I were in the midst of House Watch 2013, dealing with selling our condo, looking for a new place, buying it, moving in, and getting the kitchen remodeled. Not a lot of room for baseball there unfortunately.
Even as the Dodgers surged after the All Star break with the emergence of Yasiel Puig and a string of wins that literally turned around their season, I couldn’t summon my usual level of excitement and interest. It was like “Oh cool, they’re winning now. Isn’t that nice?” Of course, it probably didn’t help that we didn’t get to attend hardly any games during the first half of the season. With everything that was going on, we just couldn’t find the time to make it out to the stadium. Until we finally did.
We were lucky enough to get invited to go to a string of two or three games between August and September, and having just settled into our new house, we finally were really able to make the time — and it was just in time. Of course, we would bring Madelyn along with us, but after our experiences with her last season at the games, I always figured we’d be lucky to make it to the seventh-inning stretch with her. Except things were different this year. She was…really into it. Like, really into it.
Madelyn introduces Lovey to baseball!
She rarely got fussy, and as long as she always had some peanuts or Cracker Jack (or strawberries or raisins or apple sauce or ice cream or…) she stayed engaged in the game. I mean, she actually watched the game and pointed when something interesting went down and looked at me or Poppa as if to say “what just happened?” She’s a baseball fan! It took me right back to my youth when I would ask my dad or my grandpa something so I could learn about the game. Every time M’s face lit up I wanted to explain to her what a balk was, when you might try a hit-and-run, or why they can’t just pitch Kershaw every single day.
Madelyn is thinking, “Come on guys! Enough with the pictures. I’m trying to watch the game!”
We’ve taught her well! This kid knows how to enjoy the ballpark experience.
Poppa explains the intricacies of the game.
But we didn’t even have to physically be at Chavez Ravine for her excitement to kick in. There were some nights when she would sit quietly next to me on the couch, with her head on my lap, and watch three or four innings of the game with me without moving or getting distracted. Anytime a baseball game [of any kind with any team] was on TV at home or in a restaurant, she would eagerly point at the screen and pronounce “Poppa!” as if her beloved Poppa was the starting pitcher that night. (Usually, of course, she learned that he was actually there in his brother’s front row seats and could be seen on TV.)
For dinner she insisted I sit next to her at the table and watch the game, but is there anything better than cuddling on the couch to watch?
There’s Poppa!
And so, I have to thank my daughter for bringing baseball back to me, even though I only lost it for a brief moment in time — she reinvigorated my love for the game. And while the Dodgers winning and making it to the playoffs didn’t hurt this resurgence either, I credit Madelyn’s love for the “Dodders” and her enthusiastic cries of “Go bwew!” for bringing me all the way back. In fact, my interest reached such levels that when we decided that Alison and Madelyn would tag along with me on my business trip to San Francisco, I couldn’t resist getting us tickets to the Giants-Dodgers game and braving AT&T park with my girls. Sure enough, like the true fan that she is, Madelyn made it through all nine innings and then some, as they practically had to kick us out of the place.
Once again Madelyn is trying to watch the action while we are busy trying to capture the moment.
So of course now I can’t wait until next season when she’s a little older and maybe I actually can explain to her the difference between a force out and a tag, or why we shouldn’t/should/shouldn’t bunt in a certain spot, or why you always hustle to first. At the very least, I hope she has the same excitement as I did as a kid when she finds out she gets to go to the game — and maybe I will match her excitement too and make sure not to let it fade ever again. As Madelyn would say, “Go Dodders!”
Two of Madelyn’s favorite things in the whole world put together: “Ditty and Dodders!”
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8seVjB9xXAI
Another enjoyable account of Daddy’s thoughts & commentary for lucky little Madelyn. It’s so wonderful that Madelyn can read the back stories & see the photos that lead up to her family outings & love for her (& her Daddy’s) “Dodders!”
I don’t think Daddy will have any worries in regards to the comment at the end of “Baby’s Night Out”—
“And if we’re ever at the ballpark with her and the game is tied in the 8th inning, I can’t wait to see if she’ll beg to stay, just for one more inning, to see if the Dodgers win…
…hey, a dad can dream.”
Based on Madelyn’s enthusiasm during this season at just 2 years old, I have no doubt that she’ll be very excited & willing to stay at the stadium until the parking lot has emptied out!
xoxo Mimi
oh sigh!! Happy tears flowing down my cheeks. This little princess better appreciate these wonderful tributes to her every growing moment. Such a treasure for her. Love you ALL!!! Love these blogs! Love the pictures.
Patchy Days Are Here Again
Hard to believe that we’re going into Madelyn’s third Halloween. Even at two months old, we took her to the pumpkin patch to get traditional photos started even though she had no idea what was going on and couldn’t do any of the fun pumpkin patch activities.
Last year was different when we took her to Underwood Family Farms where she seemed to have an appreciation for her surroundings and could toddle through the pumpkin fields by herself and trot after the animals in the petting corral.
Pumpkins change. Hair grows. Cuter happens.
This year, Madelyn basically owned the place. We took her back to Underwood Farms and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy and understand all the aspects of fun on the farm. She pointed to things she recognized and made sure to show us every single pumpkin, or in Madelynese, tun-tun.
Where will she land next year?
It was a hot Saturday; one of those tricky days that appeared cold from the bedroom window and sent chills through our house walls, but then turned out to be sunny, bright, and warm. We shvitzed our way through the long line to get in and Madelyn picked through the easy grab-and-go pumpkins in the crates.
We only had a couple hours to spend at the farm and Bryan was feeling a little ghoulish himself, so I was extremely goal-oriented as we made our way through the peopled grounds.
We headed toward the petting corral so
I could hug and cuddle every single available animalMadelyn could see her fuzzy friends. She loved the goats and chased around this one sandy-colored little guy, calling out, “Hi, Goat! Hi, Goat! Hi, Goat!” She saw a chicken and had a conversation in full-on, fluent “Bock bock.” (She also says “Bock bock” to her dinner, soooo…). And Madelyn loved the sheep, despite offering salutations to the “Shit.” (FYI: letters P and T are completely interchangeable). I would say the petting corral was a success.You WILL love me.
Listen here, pal. You stick with me and everything will be OK.
One thing we didn’t get to last year was watching the pig races, so I was determined to get seats during the hours we were there. Fortunately, the next race was only a half hour after we were finished with the animals, so we headed over to the grandstands early to get a spot to see the little piggies race around a semi-circle.
The track had seating on three sides. We sat toward the end of the long run and could see the piggies as they came out of their pens and then craned our necks to the left to see them prance the rest of the long run, round a corner, and end up back inside a holding area. The stands were packed (sweaty) shoulder to (sweaty) shoulder so I had Princeton at my feet in our second-level-up benches. His leash was under my tushie so I could have my hands free to share Madelyn duties with Bryan.
I could hear Princeton grunting and squealing — like a pig — when they came out for each race. His ears were perked and I could tell that he was really interested in the like-sized 3-month-old porkers 20 feet away from us. I just kept petting him to give him attention, but I could tell he just really wanted to be a part of it all.
So the determined dog did.
Oh, look! That cute little dog looks like Princeton. IT IIIIIIIIIS PRINCETON!!!
Just as the pigs were in front of our part of the stands, going for the long stretch, I saw a very cute and furry salt-and-pepper terrier running alongside the fence that separated the track from the stands.
“THAT’S PRINCETON!! BRYAN!! GO!!!!”
Bryan tossed Madelyn into my lap and ran after Princeton while the announcers joked that a dog was now wanting to be part of the race and everyone was cheering. I was in a fog of laughter, panic, and embarrassment, but my eyes were clear enough to see Princeton, his fur blowing in the wind and his usually-tight jowls flapping in a wide smile, playing and fraternizing with the athletic piggies mid-race.
He trotted back to our seats and returned to sit very contentedly at our bench, basking in the memories of what just happened like a school girl who successfully snuck out of her house to steal a midnight kiss from her boyfriend. Princeton had had his eye on the piggy prize, pulled one great, big, swift yank on the leash under me, and in nanoseconds, he was free, even if only for moments. I’m quite certain this was the highlight of his entire life.
After the races, people passed by us in the stands as we gathered up all of our stuff and they cheered on Princeton for his bold move. His ears were pinned back and his tail wagged high. He was one happy farm pup that afternoon.
By then, Bryan was pretty fried, especially after his Olympic sprint to catch Princeton the Pig-Dog, so we made our way to the open pumpkin fields to finish up our day with photos of Madelyn in the sea or orange.
She loved seeing all the “tun-tuns” and immediately began hugging them and talking to them. I swear she had a whole conversation with one.
Tun-tun! It’s you!!!!!
She also discovered the scarecrows that are probably more decorative to set the scene than to actually scare any crows… or children. Madelyn was drawn to the scarecrows like crows to the corn or farmers to the overalls or Princeton to the pigs. She stood two inches from the stake, looked up, and continued the conversation she previously had with the pumpkin. She played with their fake, empty, creepy scarecrow limbs and incessantly said with excitement: “Hi, tare-tow! Hi! Eeeeee!! Tare-tow!!!!!! WOW. Tare-tow!”
I half expected her to flash them and ask for an autograph. But she was wearing a onesie and overalls, so…
Kids, man. Their imaginations are amazing.
She sauntered through the fields like Maria in the green hills (which are alive with the sound of music) with her happy little girl voice trailing behind her as I snapped photos.
Do Re Me Fa So La Ti TARE-TOW!!!!!!
Madelyn loved looking up at the “cha-chur” — the tractor — which she also posed in front of last year. She was much bigger this year, and yet, still so small next to this green giant. I think we need to take pictures of her with the cha-chur every year from now on. She’ll be 17 and hating me because she’d rather be getting ready for high school homecoming with her friends, but I will insist on getting her mug in front of the dusty, dirty pumpkin patch cha-chur. What if she’s still calling it “cha-chur” by then?
After our frolic through the pumpkin fields, we made our way back toward the exit of the farm. As we passed the things she’d seen earlier that afternoon, Madelyn politely said goodbye and thanked … things. “Bye, shit!” “Bye, tun-tuns!” “Bye, {pig snort sound}!” “Bye, tare-tow!” “Bye, farm!”
I love that little profile and those pouty lips.
She’s so polite! And during this Halloween season, she is constantly no trick and all treat!
Today’s Blog Post Was Brought To You By The Number 2 And The Letter M
So… now that Madelyn is basically now only a few months away from college, I thought I’d fiiiiiiinally post about her two-year-old birthday party. In August. Mother of the Year right here!
I’m not going to make excuses about being a slacker mom because that’s just immature and annoying. BUT. We’ve been continuing to put the house away and make it home. Traveling. Filled up with activities. My computer’s been on the fritz.
Oops. I made excuses.
But that’s what’s been going on around and after Madelyn’s 2nd birthday bash that I swore would not turn into a bash at all.
A few weeks before her birthday, I was unsure if we’d be able to even throw a party. Originally, I wanted a backyard shin dig, but our yard is still more a dirt run and it’s ugly with minimal usable space. Then since we had our kitchen remodeled, I really didn’t know how finished it would be. But thankfully, two weeks before the party, the kitchen came through, and I knew I could solidify plans. Since I didn’t have months and months of time to marinate on a party and go crazy with the theme, I set myself up for just a very casual, low-key get together with no bells and whistles.
And then I came back to reality. Please. Have we met me? I don’t do low-key. I don’t even think I do medium-key. Unless it’s blogging. Then apparently, that’s my M.O. these days. (bad mommy! bad mommy!)
So, I asked myself: “Self? What would describe Madelyn’s love and passion over the past year that would be fun to help with celebrating her birthday?”
It was a no brainer. Sesame Street. And Psycho Crazy Not-Low-Key Birthday Party Alison was born.
I did have a slight panic attack when Madelyn suddenly started to show strong love and passion for Minnie Mouse about a week before her party. I had to throw water onto that fire because I needed her to still be into everything “Sessy.” There would be other opportunities to love on Minnie. This was the era of Elmo.
Since the party had to be inside, I got all teachery and made little Sesame Street-themed centers for the kiddos. The food in the kitchen was the centerpiece that helped to also carry the Sessy style. And then all of our people could enjoy social time and eating outside. It actually worked out perfectly, despite my original desire to want a backyard party in our new house. (p.s., the backyard still needs the landscaping because we chose to remodel the kitchen first. Welcome to BornFriedman, all makeover reality show producers who are visiting the blog! Sit down. Stay a while.)
So what does Psycho Crazy Not-Low-Key Birthday Party Alison mean? Well, I made fresh squeezed watermelon lemonade. I don’t even really LIKE watermelon lemonade. But this was good. It made a delicious mess of my kitchen while pureeing and juicing watermelons. I could have just done regular lemonade. It’s a hit. It’s a favorite. But nooooo. I had to make sure the beverage was RED just so I could fill up a glass canister and dress it up as Elmo. And no one wants a cup of just tomato juice. These are OCD problems.
I thoroughly enjoyed coming up with punny labels for things. It’s like porn for my brain. Everything from Abby’s Coloring Fairy School for the coloring wall to the Bert & Ernie’s Great Adventure Trail Mix to Telly’s Peanut Butter & Jelly, I tried to tie in different characters and skits from Sesame Street. I think I am a bigger fan of Sessy than my daughter.
I knew I was having cupcakes instead of a cake because they’re easier to serve and eat, and they were store-bought because there’s a certain level of Crazy I’m not willing to reach, and that’s baking for 48 people. But what’s a spread without a nod to Cookie Monster, so I just haaaaaaaaaad to bake cookies. Life is rough.
The party was called for 4 in the afternoon so that Madelyn could get in a nap and wake up fresh. The only problem with that was that she napped like a rockstar and I had to wake her to finally join her own party. Because of that, she was a little shy when she made her grand entrance, showing signs of good pacing, which will do her well in college. Nobody likes a burnout.
AAAAAALMOST ready to greet her public.
Once she finally removed herself from grandmothers’ legs and arms, she enjoyed being with her friends — little and big! — and seeing her party come together after days of being banned from the party room (Mommy is such a Party Set-up Police!).
Finally, it was time for the big birthday song, but first we sang to Uncle Brian because he was actually celebrating the very day of his birthday AT the party. Nothing says a rager for a 31-year-old than an afternoon with characters from children’s programming.
Then Madelyn got her time to shine, and she blew out her candle perfectly! She seems to have mastered the birthday routine and enjoyed being the center of attention.
Possibly the photo-opp highlight of Madelyn’s birthday party was the Sesame Street scene that was attached to the wall where kids and families took super cute pictures! It’s almost like the real thing. Almost.
Bryan and I even dressed up for the occasion. We bought Sesame Street shirts to show some true Sessy spirit. We may or may not don these ever again. Ooooo suspense.
The afternoon turned into evening and our last few friends trickled out the door. It was time to say goodbye to our friends and open presents with the immediate family. Madelyn loved opening her cards and tearing through bags and wrapping paper. It’s funny to think what a difference a year makes. At the end of her first birthday party, the same group gathered to do the same thing, but Madelyn didn’t understand any of it. This year, she took the time to examine and get excited about each new thing, and one thing’s for sure: this kid is stocked with Elmo, Hello Kitty, and Minnie Mouse gear! What a lucky little girl!
So once again, I broke my promise about tossing together a small, boring party, but I think I did a fairly good job of keeping things real and in budget. It was super fun and the most important part is that Madelyn felt all the love.
Even if she feels extremely neglected on the blog. Must remedy!
Maybe It’s A Stage?
Pregnancy and Mommy Life have been all about diapers and milk and temper tantrums and sleep learning and cuddles. The past two years and 10 months have taught Bryan and me how to communicate as parents and, even more recently, how to spell out loud on the fly. We’ve discovered the added expenses a child brings to the home and the importance of budgeting. We were also schooled in real estate as we sold our home and moved into a bigger house to make room for a growing girl. We have learned how to manage our relationships with our friends, parents and non-parents alike, and have had a rude awakening about the available nights in our social calendar (fewer!).
And with all these changes parenthood has brought us, I’ve welcomed the nuances that have affected the ebb and flow of our marriage and household. Sometimes it feels like it was this way all along. Sometimes we think back to a trip we took as newlyweds and are surprised to realize it was SO long ago!
I do miss the theater though. A lot of my mom friends in my current life would be surprised to even learn I’ve always been a theater girl. It came up in a conversation recently — I sort of just mentioned the theater as an aside and my friend stopped me to say, “Oh, you are into theater?” It kind of caught me off guard.
Of COURSE I’m into theater. I’m not “into” much else. Except pink laundry and hair bows I guess.
It hit me that my creative outlet felt like ages ago, when really, my last affiliation with the theater was when I assisted in directing one of my very favorite shows of all time and even announced my pregnancy during the rehearsal run. That was only spring of 2011! And yet, so much as changed and the closest I’ve been to a stage has been the Disney Jr. Live stage during a trip to the parks with Madelyn.
Opening night of “The Drowsy Chaperone” and Madelyn’s first official welcoming into the theater world!
Before the baby — before Bryan, even! — I was very involved in high school theater. I was in all the shows, took all the classes, and even started my school’s chapter of the Thespian Society. Hard core theater geek to the brim.
But my love for theater comes from all the shows my parents took me to here in L.A. and also New York. Autographed Playbills take up two boxes in my garage. I know this because I just moved them into the new house… that we bought for our family.
Before I stayed up late at night researching potty training methods online, I was reading message boards and participating in chat rooms (told you I was a geek!) about all the Broadway gossip. I could spew off names of every actor in a leading role on the Great White Way RIGHT now. But, actually, RIGHT now, I can only spew off the names of every puppet on the colorful Sesame Street (my inner Geek squeals into delight when my worlds collide and I proudly hear the voices of my beloved Broadway stars guesting ON Sesame Street. Tom Kitt and Lin Manuel Miranda write music for the show?! Sutton Foster sings a catchy song to teach physics?! Stephanie D’Abruzzo and John Tartaglia are consistently credited for puppetry?! Bliss.).
I also miss the kids. For a while, I took a leadership role and helped lead the kids at theater camp and assisted in directing them in “Willy Wonka.” Those kids are now so grown up! Some just starting college and some just getting driver licenses or entering middle school. I even got to share the stage with those cuties one night when I had to sub for one of our adult actors. Kids in theater are always a joy to watch because they’re still learning, they’re usually not jaded (yet!), and have such enthusiasm about what they’re doing on stage and the relationships they’re making off stage. Working with these theater kids was a huge catalyst for my decision to go back to school to get my teaching credential.
Chocolatey sweet time working with the “Willy Wonka” cast.
But I really miss performing. My unpracticed voice could use a few lessons to get some placement back. And I think I can still tap dance fine, so that’s good. And my brain craves sinking into a new script to memorize. My last time on stage was a play and it was a starring role, which was such a wonderful experience since I’ve usually enjoyed time in the ensemble or supporting-supporting roles. If I’d known that when I took my final curtain call in August of 2010 it would be the last time I’d be on stage before getting pregnant just three months later, I might have savored it more.
My community theater friends post audition notices on Facebook and every time I see them, I think, “THIS one! This is what I’ll come back for!” But in all honesty, I don’t know if that will really be possible while Madelyn is still so young. And then one day, she’ll have a younger sibling and the cycle will begin again. Do I want to miss out on birthday parties for Madelyn’s friends because I have Saturday afternoon rehearsal? Do I want to miss tucking her in most evenings because I’ll be at the theater? Can I be the best I can be on stage after a sleepless night from a sickness or changing wet sheets?
Damn, do I really want costumers to take my measurements on a two-year-old post-partum body?!
What I’ve also failed to mention is that once Bryan and I started dating, he joined me on stage. We saw the theater lights from our dating days to our engaged days to our married time. We had the best parties at the condo with our theater friends. We trekked into Hollywood to see other friends’ in their musicals and we hosted friends who lived too far to drive back to town for the Sunday matinee after the Saturday night show. Bryan and I were part of a network that was supportive, fun, and enlightening. Sometimes what we were doing was fluff and maybe seemed immature, but that doesn’t mean I can’t miss it.
Geeking out with some of my favorite Broadway stars!
When you’ve been gone for too long from something, it’s hard to get back in. I fear that our “theater family” has moved on without us; the ship has sailed and we’ll always have a place in the seats on the dock, yes, but there can’t be any steering of the vessel. From my vantage point, we’re old news. The Friedmans, who? Oh, the ones who had the baby and then never came back? Yeah, they are so three years ago.
The idea of auditioning again as a mom is almost more frightening than the very first time I ever did as a nobody. I feel out of place. The first time I auditioned, I didn’t know if I even had a place. But to come back and audition now, knowing I once actually had a place and maybe I won’t anymore, that’s intimidating.
From an obnoxious Jersey bride to a check-writing old lady to a wartime wife in a Christmas show to an immigrant at the turn of the century, I’ve been able to become many different people.
I’ll be honest, one of the reasons most actors say they love theater or any other kind of performing is the ability to escape. Forgetting your own problems and taking on a new life is liberating and exciting. And let’s face it, motherhood can be exhausting. And hard. It’s much easier to play a tap-dancing, dumb blonde who gets swept away by a gangster lady in Asian disguise, looking to exploit young starlets for three hours than to clean up thrown food on the floor or calm a temperamental toddler. There have been days when I wish I could leave Madelyn and her diaper explosion to join a cast in a dance studio. More than ever, have I wished to shrug my shoulders and declare, “I cant. I have rehearsal!”
But those days are over as of now.
My creative outlets now are pretty limited. I enjoy writing and find creative freedom in this here blog and on my business blog, The Wedding Yentas, but my true passion is really theater. I would love for Madelyn to grow up appreciating theater and of course we’ll expose her the way our parents did for us. She’s already so musical, singing and dancing to any beat she hears. I’d be very surprised if she declared no interest whatsoever. And who knows, maybe one day we’ll join HER on stage.
So to all our friends who only met us post-baby, yes, we are crazy theater people. I bet we all had different identities and wore different hats before our babies were born, but Bryan and I wore lots of different hats… and wigs, and headpieces, and accessories… sometimes all in one night.
I am confident that Daddy & I (aka Mimi & Poppa, Madelyn) will see the THREE of you on a stage in the future! You guys will always be infected with the theater bug—-no antibiotic can ever take it away from you. ;-D
What fun it would be to see the 3 of you together in the same show one day!
The lights, the applause, the curtin calls wait for your return.
xoxo
I’m crying over here too. You struck a chord with me as well, a theatre lover myself as you know well. I was just thinking about this same thing the other day, the days of my youth, the singing, the dancing, the joy and the role that music and theater once played in my life. I know you will be back on stage someday soon. As for now, it seems you are playing the role of “mommy” ever so genuinely and ever so well. Much love to you my friend.
Hey there. Here’s the good news…there is nothing like doing a show with your kid, even if you have to wait awhile. That’s the hard part. Although, for me, it was more singing than acting, growing up, I still had a really LONG dry spell, but, more good news, it does come back once you start up again and, bonus, it’s a whole new way to embarrass your kids. That probably doesn’t necessarily seem important now, but it really is great fun when they get older. Mostly, that’s because it’s almost impossible not to, so you may as well enjoy it. Seriously, you’ll be back and better than ever, because you’ll have many more experiences to draw on…heck, you already do! On the other hand, think of what you’d have missed if you’d chosen not to do the mommy thing. The most important thing is to enjoy these early years, because they go by SO quickly, and you can never have them back. You can always get back on stage, at any age, but you can’t have your babies be little again. I know. I’ve tried. 😉
I love this…..so much….so much in fact, I’m crying. It’s been one of those days. This was just the last straw for me to have a good cry and wail at all the wonderful things I have seen in this amazing family and all the things I will continue to see. I loved seeing you in your plays. I love seeing you in your roll as mom just as much, if not more. Love you sweetie.