Doing Theatre & Being a Mom is Hard

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know! You’ve heard it all before, but golly-jeez, I gotta say it again! Doing theatre and being a mom is hard. For those of you in the theatre world, you know how demanding even the smallest acting role or production job on the tiniest of shows can be. Every theatre job everywhere ever created in this universe packs a wallop. A wallop on your time, your energy, your sanity, your life. So, why do we do it? Love, creativity, passion and la-ti-da.

I don’t want to give up la-ti-da. It has and always will be my haven. Theatre, that is. It is my home. Now, in my home, my actual home and my theatre “home”, I have my lovelyadorabletastic nearly nine month old daughter, Verona. She is and will now forever be the sunshine of my life. So, in my nine months of motherhood, I have brought baby girl along to every thing. I kid you not. She has been a part of theatre classes I taught, curtain speeches, rehearsals, radio interviews, touring shows, publicity photos, set calls, costume fittings, more shows and as of last night, auditions. Lucky for me, people love her and fawn over her. Sounds like I got it made in the shade, huh?

Yes and no. While I am VERY blessed to work with amazing, caring people and fabulous companies who allow me to tote the tot to every event…it’s really HARD! Sometimes I feel like my brain is seizing up. Going all out on theatre jobs like I did pre-Verona, plus firing on all cylinders (to use a phrase I have no knowledge about) as a mommy and a wifey kinda leaves me busted at the end of the day. Every day. All of the days. Not only am I exhausted, but I begin to loathe myself. I start feeling overwhelmed by sneaky, meanie-weenie-beenie feelings. I feel like I can’t do any of my jobs to the best of my ability. I can’t act. I can’t teach. I can’t direct. I feel like I’m failing as a mom and a wife because my attention is divided. My house is a mess. My life is cray. But then, something amazing happens.

My beautiful and talented husband fills my belly with a warm meal and a glass of wine, my breathtaking daughter giggles the softest baby giggle and smiles at me and my friends say, “Hey, its late. Why don’t you and Verona go home? We can handle things here.”, sending me home early from auditions. That is how I am surviving. Even though it is tough, I am doing it all and more with the help of my community. My home. My theatre.

Verona and I getting ready to present a curtain speech in May 2013.