One Time, I Made My Daughter Cry...
By kell_gill on October 12, 2012
Featured Member Post
...and it was awesome.
She read the letter and for about six weeks, she talked about the upcoming audition on a daily basis. And for about six weeks, I tried to encourage her while reigning her in, just a little.
I did theatre through high school and college, and while performing is one of the most brilliant highs I've ever known, getting to the stage can be brutal. I will never forget my first rejection that had nothing to do with my ability: I wasn't "cute" enough. I was 19. The girl who got cast looked like Selena Gomez with giant boobs. I'm not ugly but I don't think anyone would describe me as "cute." You can't improve on cuteness.
Yeah, a decade later, it still stings a little (I nailed that audition, y'all).
I'm not naive enough to believe that just because my child is seven, she can't be disappointed and hurt. The Nutcracker isn't a little recital piece. It's not a school show. It's serious production and a Big Damn Deal, and I had serious reservations that my sweet SG would have a spot after eight ballet lessons -- six of which happened three months before her audition.
But she wanted to try and I wasn't going to stop her. I prepped her as best I could. Who knew musical theatre auditions could come in handy while parenting?: You mustn't be silly or distracted. They probably won't call you by your name, you'll get a number. Know your number. Listen for your number. They'll teach you part of the dance and you'll dance in a group, you may dance a few times. You may do the same thing over and over but you need to try your best each time. It's two hours. It's a long time but you need to pay attention even if it's not your turn.
What I didn't tell her: I think your chances of getting this are slim. There are girls that have been dancing since they were toddlers. It doesn't mean you're not good, it means you need more experience and you can try again next year if you want.
But she wanted it. And she was excited.
We got ready...
...and headed to the audition.
Two hours later, she burst out of the studio, threw her arms around my waist and, grinning from ear to ear announced, "That was fun!" "It was?" I asked. "Yes! I'm going to be an angel." She said it was total and utter confidence, complete assurance. "Maybe, sweetheart. They won't send the cast list out for a few weeks. We won't know for sure for a while. But you had fun and that's what matters." And we headed home to wait.
The parent meeting for the show was October 6. On October 4, I was getting our plans for the month together and it dawned on me that, probably, I wasn't going to need to factor in rehearsals. And then, at 10:33 am, this arrived in my inbox:
And, holy crap, she got it. She was an angel.
I called Mr. G. "I'm going to surprise her during lunch at school with flowers. Can you meet me?" He couldn't, but I promised to take pictures. I called her teacher to make sure it was okay to meet her at lunch with flowers. "DON'T SAY ANYTHING," I cautioned. I called my mom, "She got it. SHE. GOT. IT." "Take the email so she can see," Mom suggested. Oooh. Good idea. I printed everything. We ran to the store for hot pink roses (and a vanilla yogurt for X to busy himself with while I arranged flowers in the van).
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