How Can they Think About Leaving After all This?
My kid has some big dreams. I’ve know this for quite some time. Had she been the kind of girl who just sat back and expected things to happen for her, I’m not sure I would have been as supportive. But this kid is a worker when it comes to her craft. Laundry… that’s a whole different story. Stars believe in leaving their laundry for someone else to do. *eyeroll*
You can watch some people and know when they’re going to stick it out for the long haul. You can tell what’s important by watching how people prioritize things. This kid disconnected herself from the world for three months in the middle of her senior year. Between Thanksgiving and the end of February she didn’t see her friends outside of school to limit the possibility of getting sick and knocking her out of being in top audition-ready form. She wants this. And this mom, as much as she wants to, will not stand in her way. If she wants to hone her craft to become a stage performer, then so be it. I’m going to make sure she gets the best training we can afford. Am I going to allow her to take out oppressive student loans? Nope. Because she can get training and connections that will rival any of the $70k+ a year schools at a kickass program with a lighter-weight price tag. She will learn about ROI.
We’re sitting on acceptances from some great programs. So at this point we’re guaranteed that she’s going to have an amazing education. We’re just not sure from where yet—so many great BFA programs and so many factors. Let the negotiations begin… who wants my money and my kid for four years? Once we hear from the rest of the schools… we’re waiting on a handful… that chapter of this fun story will commence. Show us the money.
As a mom, when the dust settles after the whirlwind of audition travel there are two things that push me to the edge. The obvious, of course, will anyone accept her… is she really good enough for this theater thing? Parents always think their kids are golden. I’m a realist and I know that mom ears are tone deaf at times. I see parents all the time who appear convinced that their kid is a rising star, when no one else sees it. There’s always the chance of that terrifying realization that I could be that parent with that kid. It takes a process like college auditions to reassure a parent that they can hang with the big boys and girls. I’ve always believed in her. But the reassurance that others do as well sets a mom’s mind at ease.
The second and far more disturbing thing that sends me to the edge is the solid realization that this baby bird is leaving the nest. Even if she’s ready, I’m not. How do I let go of a child who I still feel like is my baby? I still have to protect her from the evils of the earth. I still have to fight her battles. But I don’t. I raised her to kick ass. And now, very much to the dismay of this mom, she will go out into the world in just a very short time—without me. This. It’s this that kills me every time. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.
Just last night I sat in the chair outside her door and listened to her practicing my favorite song. I don’t remember what song it was. Because every song she sings is my favorite song. That’s a mom thing. But it’s happening more lately—the melancholy that turns to sobs. The sad realization that this kid won’t be practicing behind that door for much longer. It will be another door, far from here. That’s the stuff that kicks my ass.
This crazy, maddening, frustrating, gut-wrenching process of college auditions tests the limits of sanity, while at the same time creating a bond between MT mom and MT kid like never before. It seems brutally unfair that this process of finding a place for her to go has brought us closer… and now she’s leaving. Aaaaah, life’s roller coaster. *goes to get a tissue*
