It’s been a while folks. Tax Credits disasters and grown up problems in the mum world have been causing much stress, car accidents and not too much time for writing. The ‘beeping’ Tax Credit office were not following their own guidelines for self employed actors and caused us no end of financial trouble. I crashed my car reversing into a poor learner driver due to the stress of the whole saga- (whilst dressed as a sugar plum fairy I might add- about to entertain a group of 4 year olds. I had a quick cry in the car, pulled myself together and then switched on the sparkle, the bubbles and the balloon modelling- Dr Theatre and all that). A meeting with the lovely Vince Cable followed and two months later the error was corrected. The boiler packed up in the middle of this however. Great- No Heating. Bedtime at home is like camping. Double blankets, socks, and cashmere cardigans (Ok Glamping).
Hey Ho, its back to work now. Thank goodness. Money for swimming, school dinners, ballet and bills. I am now at The Watermill Theatre mid tech dressed as “Foxy Loxy’ in burnt terracotta orange, brown dog tooth breeches draped with a dead stoat/ weasel/ vole stole around my neck.l A leather and bone riding crop in my hand complete Signora Volpe. Pinocchio baddie extraordinaire. I’m liking the look.
It’s been a fun Christmas show to prepare: Olive fights and bras on heads, Blue Fairies who are blue and a little bit crackers to coincide with an eccentric team of teeth-removing Police/Doctor/ psychotic giggling bunny rabbits, giant fishermen, whale guts and bubbles. There haven’t been too many dramas aside from the fact that back stage, beneath the calm exterior on stage are 6 actor musicians taking part in an olympic effort of a show. We scurry like rodents in the rat runs behind the gauze, dripping with sweat, avoiding decapitation and costume snags, near heart attacks and hat mix ups. Morgan and I (my comedy side kick) have to run all around the auditorium- in to the audience, up two flights of spiral staircase, along the slips in the theatre, behind the stage, up the step ladder, down two flights of stairs, back onstage complete with bushy branch disguise whilst singing, removing bandit disguise and wearing high heels- to emerge serene and calm to scare puppet Pinocchio. Easy.
On top of that I then have to do this show twice in a day, six days a week and fit in the social Greek nights book club and Christmas Parties in Teddington and keep the home fires burning.
I think my home fires may be becoming a little frosty and filled with charcoal to be honest. The kids came to see the show and instead of smiling faces awaiting me in the foyer no one was there- they were back in my digs- one screaming for a blue fairy toy, the other whinging about being taken backstage and the other one being sick from a rotten MacDonalds milkshake.
To that off with a peeved husband and three children camped out on the floor. You get the picture.
Hopefully the muddy walk the following morning and and family game of ‘Headbandz’ calmed some frayed nerves…. I hope.
Is this worth it? I hate being so torn. This should really be the diary of a schizophrenic Mother. Or if my husband has his way and named my blog- it would be The Diary of a Psychopath Mother. Hmph.