Guess what? I’m an actress. I’ve starred in dozens of National and International TV commercials, radio voice-overs, print ad’s and I’ve had speaking roles in 3 feature length films. One is on Netflix right now – it’s a controversial role and I’m scared to share the title with you. (But NO, I am not naked in it) Although I haven’t pursued the calling in a few years – it’s so hectic balancing motherhood and the call of the wild – once an actress, ALWAYS an actress!
So, when my daughter got the role of “Cat #10″ in the After School Program’s Annual Play – I was thrilled! I immediately visualized her all her grown up starring in “Cat’s – The Broadway Musical…” We rehearsed for months – concentrating on diction, emoting, memorization and getting into character
Here is my girl in her debut stage play as Cat #10
This milestone captured by my iPhone can only truly be appreciated when you understand that my daughter has been in Speech Therapy for nearly 5 years. My baby has what her speech therapist calls a short tongue. The tip of it does not reach the roof of her mouth making it nearly impossible pronounce lots of words. So nearly everyday I tell her that everything about her, including her unique way of speaking is a gift from God and one day it will bless the world. So for her to take the stage in front of an auditorium, belt out her lines on cue, with as much diction as she could muster and have a blast while doing it was a dream come true.
Last night was a HUGE night for my daughter. It was a pivotal turning point in the life of a young girl. And I… was high… I was so high… I can’t recall the last time I had a fever like that. While my baby girl was dancing in time with the other actors, I was wondering if the tiny bottled waters that lined the snack table could extinguish the fire behind my eyes. I watched my sweet darling bolt to center stage to deliver her lines and I couldn’t help but contemplate how the hardwood floor appeared oddly soft and just right for a long nap. I was intrigued by the icy sensation that radiated up and down my back during the entire 45 minute production.
I sat there high as a kite full of fever and regret as I witnessed my daughter being bitten by the acting bug. She was radiant. When the play was over and my mini-me ran toward me and leaped in my arms I nearly fell backward. My inner mantra on the drive home was “just stay awake, just stay awake, just stay awake.”
And because my daughter truly is my daughter the thrill of taking the stage and conquering her fear along with the applause of the audience rendered her restless. I mean this girl was completely unable to fall asleep. I, on the other hand was about to get just a bit more high.
All I remember is falling asleep and vividly dreaming about how my daughter had changed from an insecure little girl to a raging thespian right before my eyes. She had evolved. Things would never be the same again.
And then I had to pee. I opened my eyes, and there in the darkness – this is the first thing I saw.
Inability to move
In my feverish, medicated state – for nearly a minute I truly believed that this was my daughter. I knew she had changed last night. But how could I embrace and empower this new version of her? How would I explain the transformation to her teachers? What would our neighbors think?
Finally, finally reason prevailed. See, this is my daughters love language. Believe it or not, this is a love note from her to me. This is what her beloved “Pink Dog” usually looks like.
And when daylight and my fever finally broke she explained that she “took care of me” and dressed pink dog up and set her over my bed to keep me company because I was so sick.
How did I get so lucky?