Then her coat comes off...and so does part of her dress...and she ends up like this.
I missed that part though. I think I must have been trying to get Jett to stop crying. Or maybe I was trying to stop him from stepping on the guy's toes next to me. You can tell when people like kids. This guy seemed okay. He didn't seem angry, but he also didn't reach out to Jett or try to talk to him like many people who enjoy children do. I wasn't happy with his behavior. I wanted to watch the show and Jett just wanted to wiggle, beat the chair with a bottle, dance around or sit on my lap. Sitting on my lap wouldn't have been such a big deal but before the show started we went to the restroom. Jett sat on the toilet and I guess he didn't point his penis down into the toilet because the back of his pants were all wet. He smelled like urine and he would bust out bawling when he didn't like something. I called my Dad at intermission to see if he could come and pick up Jett. He was in the middle of something and wanted me to bring him over. I couldn't...I wouldn't have had time to do it and be back before Jovana's performance right after intermission...so I endured and put Jett on my lap a little twisted so his wet pants wouldn't transfer on to mine.
Jovana is paired here with Ammon Morrill. Ammon has two brothers also in high school. One was also in the play. They were great on stage. I knew several other students on stage and they did tremendous performances. I was trying to imagine a time when my kids will be over their whiny crabby phases and actually listen to me. I wonder if these other mothers felt like giving up. Like their kids would ever stop fighting or get a handle on their emotions. My Dad said he was sorry about Jett and then told me, "Yeah, you probably think you kids never did stuff like that when you were younger." My dear mother must have cried herself to sleep on many occasions. Kind of like I want to do right now.
The one bright spot is that tomorrow I get to go to work. I can pretend that I don't have any challenges at home and all of my relationships are fabulous and fulfilling. When in reality, I'm just running away. Away from my kids. Away from my husband. Away from my home. I don't really wonder why the Twilight series holds me so. I know it's because I want that fantasy life.
I was thinking tonight about how it would be to be a teenager again. There is a lot of fun during the teen years. A lot of self discovery. A lot of hope for the future. A lot of talk about who likes who and who said what and who did what. I never would have imagined the twists and turns my life has taken. I didn't like high school. I didn't learn very much and thought it was a waste of my time. I could zone out in class and still get A's. I wanted to be older. I wanted to travel the world. I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted a car. I wanted all the fun without any of the responsibility.
And now here I am at 33 with a husband, 5 children, a home and a business and I'm wondering if I can be a teenager again. Wondering if I can go back in time. Wondering what would happen if I'd made different choices. I'm living Rosalie Cullen's dream and questioning whether or not it's what I want, too. I dare say it's a little too late to be wondering any of this. Even though I've been blessed with more children, more family, more cars, and more home than most of the world I will go to bed tonight and cry myself to sleep. I'm not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.