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Stage Mom Rides Again

Every year our church has a musical camp in which the kids can participate.  A week long rehearsal culminates in a full blown musical extravaganza.

It is a highlight to my daughters’ summer, as both girls participated and performed.

Months prior, the children are given the opportunity to audition for solo roles.  Emme auditioned and was cast as a soloist.

Nearly 170 children, most neatly arranged on risers, sang their hearts out for two performances, much to the delight of hundreds of parents, family, and friends.

I knew where my girls were to be positioned on the risers, so we arrived early to secure seating for family.  We commandeered the second row, stage right, just feet from where Emme stood.  I think it may have startled her when she realized how close her insane family was to her.

I’m sure her imagination was rife with the possibilities of Jensen-mishaps.

And Cailey also had a good view of us, as she kept avoiding eye contact and picking at her lips.

Jensen was nestled comfortably between me and his Aunt Trish, with whom he has a special connection.  Aunt Trish is the owner of two elderly boy dogs that Jensen idolizes.  So much so, that he calls himself Rascal and spends much of the day walking around on all fours.  Barking.  Incessantly.

Aunt Trish kept him amused by drawing pictures of dogs (his own mother is inept at art, and her drawings are always shunned).  I just kept giving him dog treats to keep him quiet.

I was more than a little fearful that he would begin howling during his sister’s solo.

At one point during the performance, Cailey (who refused to crack a smile as she was very focused on her singing and hand motions) snuck a glance at her brother who had his hands clasped over his ears in pain.

This caused her great delight and a broad smile finally emerged.

I sat in that second row seat and watched in amazement my Emme take the stage.  My Emme, who use to turn herself inside-out with shyness, walked to the platform, stood to her full very tall height, and with all the confidence in the world sang her solo.

With the voice of an angel.

I could not have been more proud of my baby girl.

We’re not sure where she gets her gumption, but I can tell you that she inherited her voice from Fiddledaddy.

As anyone who has the misfortune to stand in front of me at church during worship will attest.

When the performance ended, the children all sat on their risers while the directors and volunteers were introduced and gratefully acknowledged.  I knew that the children would soon be lead back to the “green room” to await the next performance and we wouldn’t be able to congratulate them until the end of the evening.

We had gotten the girls roses, so I army crawled out of the 2nd row to the end of the risers, to sneak a rose up to Emme.  Undetected.  Using the same stealthful moves I employed when I sneaked into the cry room to listen to the auditions.

Because parents were forbidden to enter the sanctuary.  (Last year you may recall my friend Brianna and I attempting to watch the audition process through the crack of an unmanned door.)  Now I can watch from the comfort of a rocking chair – SO NEXT YEAR, I’VE GOT YOU COVERED BRIANNA!

Of course, it has come to my attention that members of my church read this blog, so the doors to the cry room may be locked.

BUT I CANNOT BE CONTAINED!  (insert maniacal laughter)

Anyhoo.  Emme was suitably embarrassed when she saw her mother crawl across the floor to give her the rose.  But not nearly as horrified as when her brother escaped his prison of relatives and jumped up onto the risers with her.

I had begun the crawl back to my row, when he slipped passed me.  I turned and saw him teetering precariously on the end of the top riser.  In my mind, I envisioned the whole top row toppling over, in domino affect.

I jumped up and deftly scooped him off with one free arm, while the other hand held Cailey’s rose.

And then a wrestling match ensued at the end of row #2, with both of us rolling around on the floor.

Fiddledaddy aided me in my helpless state by videotaping the transaction, while the rest of my so-called family sat in their seats laughing and pointing.

Emme made a mental note to change her name and address.  As did Cailey as I managed to slip her the rose as she walked single-file out the side door.  While I was still wrangling Jensen.

Thankfully, all the focus remained on the stage, where it belonged.

In two years, Jensen will be able to participate in the musical.  I am formulating plans to position myself in the front row.

Revenge will be sweet, indeed.


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