The Wichita Theater (that bastion of art and perfection) is putting on Cinderella in three days. I'm in it. I am a wicked stepsister.
And it is great fun. Don't believe me? I get to scream and yell, wear this awesome fat bustle-butt contraption, and sing my little heart out. I might even get a few laughs in the process. It is such great fun.
What is NOT great fun? The AWFUL hairdo I have to get my hair teased, sprayed and kinked up into each night. The eighties have nothing on me, believe me. Also not fun: the layers and layers and LAYERS of makeup required to "make me ugly enough." Apparently it takes alot, so I guess that's a compliment. But also a headache.
I was looking forward to it! I really, really was! In high school, nothing was better than holing up in my bathroom, working for hours on myself and emerging, looking like a completely different person. (Simon might make observation here that many women do this every morning...but I am speaking of an even MORE different person, honey.)
WHY is all this un-fun? Here's the difference: kids. Oh, and a few others: I don't enjoy looking at myself in the mirror as much any more. My alone time is so limited that spending it this way seems ludicrous. Oh--and the kicker--my current bathroom is nowhere near as big as the one I grew up with, and the counter space is nonexistent. Not that really care most days. But for THIS process, it's a problem.
Back to the kids part--picture this. Me, curlers just recently out, hair springing in every direction, trying to tease it, pin it up and spray it, while I keep Lyla out of the toilet, Caleb out of my makeup box, and dinner from burning on the stove in the kitchen. In about six square feet of space.
Things I have learned:
You can't tease your hair while holding a child.
Cheap liquid eyeliner plus fake eyelash glue is a super-painful combination.
Tammy Faye may never have had a serious conversation in her life. Cause who can really talk to you when you look like that?
Things I plan on trying: NOT showering after I take my hair down--and letting it be even crazier the next night. This is the kind of thing motherhood drives me to.
Pictures to come...be warned.