Finally catching up...

Yep. I've got a lot of catching up to do. But I don't know how I'd actually do that. I will say this. I haven't blogged in forever because my blogging time is at work and for the past month and a half, work has kept me BUSY. Like, REAL busy. But happily busy. I've reentered the land of directing children's theatre and no matter how stressful it can be, it is still one of the happiest things in the world to me. One of the coolest things for me has been to think about how I've grown as a person by thinking about the differences in how I direct now. I think the greatest thing that 7 years has taught me since I last directed a show is this...let yourself laugh when it's funny.

There's a moment from the past that I've never forgotten and to this day remains one of my all time favorite memories in life. I was directing "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown" for Summer Theatre Workshop. We had an extremely talented group of kids, an awesome set, precious costumes and a pretty darn good show on our hands. But for some reason we hit a point of unbelievable stress. We were exhausted and frustrated and generally hopeless. I honestly have no idea how we got there. I really don't. I went home in tears many days and didn't handle the kids the way I should have during rehearsals.

As opening night moved painfully close I would sit and watch rehearsals and see nothing but mistakes and things that weren't done. During one of our dress rehearsals, I think it was the Wednesday before our show opened on Friday, I sat in the front row and was just toast. I had scolded the kids over and over again about silly things, but especially about coming down into the audience rather than staying backstage. I constantly told them that the audience cannot at any point see you in costume, especially not during the show. I couldn't figure out why they didn't seem to understand that. I was honestly convinced the show was falling apart before our eyes. My dear friend and costumer Mrs. Schrader plopped down next to me. Her daughter Jordan was playing Sally Brown and to this day remains in my mind one of the riskiest, yet smartest, casting decisions I'd ever made. It was a huge part for a tiny little person. But Jordan was Sally in real life. If she didn't learn her lines, but could respond as Jordan would, we'd still be okay.

As Mrs. Schrader and I sat watching the show, mistake after mistake, I neared tears. All of a sudden, Jordan runs down from backstage into the audience in her little pink polka dot dress, bouncy curls, and mary jane shoes. Just as she flew by me, I snapped. I said, "Jordan what on EARTH are you doing. How many times have I told you that you CANNOT come into the audience during the show!?" (Yes, I had total disregard for the fact that her mom was sitting next to me.) She stopped, turned around, said, "I forgot my jump rope on the other side of the stage," giggled in her little Jordan way, turned around and kept running to the other side.

And then I laughed so hard I cried.

I don't know why that broke me. But that was my first lesson in laughing when it's funny. Because it was. She totally didn't care that I was frustrated. Totally didn't care that she was doing something "wrong." She was a sweet little girl who had never been on stage before and was learning. I think she was actually proud of herself for realizing that she forgot her jump rope before she actually needed it rather than the moment she was supposed to enter with it. She thought she was doing a good thing. And really, she was.

On opening night, I had a little bear that I kept around for good luck. I named it the Jordan bear because she loved it. Just as the cast was circling up backstage to pray, Jordan said, "Oh no! I left the bear out in the audience. I need to give it a hug!" Rather than going to get it myself, I looked at my little Sally who was fully in costume and said, "Go get it. Quick." And she took off in her pink dress and bouncy curls.

That was a summer of learning for me and I've noticed this summer that there are so many days when I don't have time to laugh, but I do it anyway. I'm learning to take time for those moments. I was reminded of it the other day when the kids were off the wall and having fits of uncontrollable laughter. Just as I had gotten them focused again and back into the scene, the scarecrow said one of her lines in some goofy voice, and all the kids started cracking up again. I felt the frustration boiling and I said, "Carina...come on," she looked at me and said, "Miss Jen. My line is funny. And laughter is contagious ya know," and then fell on the floor laughing.

And I laughed too. Because she's absolutely right.

Now when things are funny, I just let them laugh. And more importantly, I let myself laugh.