We're four numbers down with two left to go. We had one heck of a busy schedule this past weekend. Rehearsal all day Saturday and part of Sunday AND we have another rehearsal tonight. Three days in a row of working with me--how'd these kids get so lucky?
This is the last week of rehearsals they'll have to learn material though. After that, we'll be cleaning and gearing up for the performance. Sometimes I can't believe that all this work is actually going to be put on stage. For me, it's great practice for future choreographic endeavors and teaching jobs. I forget sometimes that all this work will be on a stage with lights and costumes and a full audience.
After our long day Saturday, I came home and crashed on the pull-out sofa bed. I woke up in a dazed, drooling, and confused state when my parents came banging in from a shopping adventure. Apparently between the time I closed my eyes and the time I woke, I lost over an hour and gained a lovely waffle face imprint. Fabulous. I don't think it really registered how exhausted I was.
Then I had to think it through. Hmmm, stayed up the night before the prep for Saturday. I was up at 7:00 the next morning to review my work and in the studio before 9:00. Lunch at 12:30 and back in the studios by 1:00 until about 4:00. I still had a four minute piece to choreograph for the next day. It made me wonder how some of my professors and seasoned choreographers do it. No really, how do you do it?
Most of my time is spent prepping for every rehearsal. I take at least an hour to review the choreography of new pieces, sometimes two if I feel its really necessary (which is most often the case). That doesn't even include the time I've spent choreographing the work (which can take a while if you force Creativity's hand because Time does not allow you much leeway). AH!
This week was a little unorthodox anyway--my mother was living with me. Hi, Mom! I know you're reading this and know I love you dearly, but I think if I build you that mother-in-law suite like I promised you when I was eight years old, it will have to be a separate building completely.
No, really. I do love you. I think my apartment is a little too tiny for two women, eighty costumes, and a whole lot of stubbornness. We had quite a week--Mom learned that water glasses and coffee mugs go in separate places, the ice maker takes a while to refill, and I learned that she loves to leave me folded paper towels on my kitchen counters.
Its funny because I lived in her house for 18 plus years (still do on large stints of vacations) and I know where she keeps everything, how the house is set-up for her system, yadda yadda. The tables seem to have turned because she was living in my little house where I have my own system of running things (Weird as they may, they make sense to me). It's just a different and we both talked about how it was a little strange. Suddenly she was living in my place and I've built my own nest up here in OKC. The pangs of growing up.
Weekend trips are different from week long stays. Of course, there wasn't much time for fun so we were forced to discuss only the topic of the thesis--I'm starving for fresh new subjects to talk about in my life. Costumes have taken over my dinning room and living room. Mom has a whole sewing station set-up with a nest of supplies sitting next to her. It's all cleaned up for now until she comes back again next week. I've got a second look-see coming up that's to show off the entire show, including costumes. I think living together will probably be different this second go around.
I enjoyed making dinner for the two of us--something she always does for me when I'm home. It was nice to return the favor and I really liked having someone at the table with me. We did get our Chik-fil-a fix and I loved that she came to watch ballet class and some of rehearsal. Even though I've taken on the role of director/choreographer, inside I still have that nine year old self dying to show off for Mom and Dad.
Though it might have been an interesting week together, it was certainly a learning and growing experience for our mother daughter relationship. I think, as a daughter, we know mom's can take the hard knocks from us now and again. They have the shoulders we can cry on, the arms to hold us, and the strength to help us when our legs have gone out from under us.There's a different persona I take on completely for anyone else I am around because I can't truly be as relaxed with them as I can with Mom. It's Mom, she loves me no matter what and there's no fear that I'll be left by myself. Mom is always there. She's one tough cookie, but she isn't superwoman all the time. She needs just as many hugs and just as much help as I do. I am so appreciative for all she does for me and I couldn't include it all on here, but know it starts with giving birth to me and ends with this thesis. Those two things alone count for more than a lifetime worth of thanking!
So Mom, next time you come, know that the ice maker will be full, I'll buy you extra paper towels and chicken broth for your soup. I'll take you for a Sonic Coke when you need one and if you want to replace a bathroom rug, that's OK, too. I'll turn down the air conditioning without making a face and I'll brave the basement with you if you need a protector from the hairy spiders downstairs. It's the least I can do for my little sweat-shop worker! I love you, Mom!