When I was younger, I wanted to be famous. I used to practice my Oscar/Grammy/Emmy/Golden Globe/Tony acceptance speech in my room, except I would get as far as, "What a complete shock. I'd like to thank my family..." and then I'd start daydreaming about what my dress would look like, and who would be sitting at the table, smiling up at my speech that I forgot about the speech entirely. I am also a terrible actress. Despite "performing" in many plays, concerts and musicals I was never particularly good. I was the kid that spent most of the performance trying to find my parents in the audience, then have them make eye contact and wave as if they didn't know I was up there. My singing career got off to a rocky start as I have a bit of stage fright. During one of our church's musicals (Jonah and the Whale, if you were wondering) the choir director asked me to sing a solo. Too crippled with fear I told her I couldn't, but the whole walk to church (yes, walk) my brother tried to talk me into it. I don't like to turn down dares, especially from Jack, so I told the director I'd do it. I remember walking up to the microphone and singing and the choir was so shocked that they all stopped singing--a truly scarring experience.
Anyway, I thought for the longest time that I was a pretty terrible actress. But today it seemed the tides were turning. Sometimes it takes all my mental strength not to freak out at this job (I save my freak outs for my trips home, thankyouverymuch) (oh and, of course, the kids have been lovely for the one day I've been back working, making me feel guilty for hating on them so much. And by them, I mean Boy) but it doesn't show. I was playing Dominoes (the real game, not the line them up and knock them down kind) with Boy & Girl (Side note: Girl age 6, beat both Boy age 8 and I. Beat us bad) and Boy mentioned, "Yeah my mom was talking and she said they really want you to stay. They will do whatever to get you." Me, "I'm not leaving silly! I still have six more months." (Six months exactly on Wednesday, but who keeps track of those things?) Boy, "No, for the next year."
Man maybe I should be on stage!