Back in November, I met up with a friend who is the Production Manager (head of the backstage and all its parts) at Opera Omaha. They are producing an opera this spring using almost all union stagehands. Because of percentages regarding union vs. non-union contracts, he needs a non-union assistant to basically be in charge of scene changes during the show. It pays really well…union scale which is alot for someone used to non-union gigs. It’s 3 weeks in late March-early April.
I got the contract officially today and I’m considering bagging out. I shouldn’t because A)he’s one of my oldest friends (and by old I don’t mean in age…I mean that I have been friends with him continuously longer than anyone…he predates Stephen…not that we ever dated so don’t think that I’m returning a favor or anything…) and B) I’m having a hard time turning down the cashola to do it.
I’m considering bagging because of my kids. And, it just might make me crazy to live with my mom for 3 weeks. The schedule is brutal (8am-11pm for 10 days straight but then lightens up considerably once the show opens…wimpy opera singers can’t possibly be expected to perform 2 nights in a row) and my mom hasn’t sold her business yet so I don’t have anyone other than a bag of teddy grahams and a Little Einstein DVD to watch my kids. All. Day. Long. It’s not even my town anymore. I wouldn’t know where to start looking.
And then there’s the issue of “toddler who eats no food”. She has eaten nothing other than cheezits, grape juice and a single chicken nugget in about 4 days. She nurses all. the. time. And it’s getting old. But if I left her with my mom, it would be fine until about noon. And then there’s still 11 hours in the day.
I am the queen at making excuses. In my head, I’ve already gotten out of it. I know that M won’t hate me forever for it. But if I ever had a thought about getting back into being a stagehand again, I really need the contact. I need to keep my fat foot in somebody’s door. There’s another thing. Mama hasn’t done any real physical labor in several years. If you need someone to organize people and delegate, I’m your woman. Order food for 45 people? Check. 30 seconds for a full stage change. A vista? You got it. But I’m too effing old and my mommy hands are too soft to be toting scenery all day and pulling ropes all night.
Truth is, I don’t back out. I don’t say no even when I should. I know I’ll work it out. I know that everyone else will be inconvienced by my children, including my children. But what else can I do?
On the upside, my very pregnant IRL friend is going to pop that kid any day now. You’d think it was me having the kid. I get to be there for this one too. I’m helping her have a natural birth again. She did really great the last time (13 months ago…eek) so I expect this one to go as well if not better. She’s at 39 weeks (2-3cm, 60%) but if she’s not holding a baby by Friday, I’m taking her in for a pedicure. When you’re squatting on the birthing ball or sitting on the toilet, it would be nice to have pretty toes. Yes? I think I may have missed my calling as a doula. I would love to do it if only I had another adult in the house if I had to leave in the middle of the night or at other equally inconvienient times. I’m going to wait until the kids are in school to persue that option.