Stage Mom From Hell

It's official, I've become the Stage Mom from Hell.

This isn't because I want my kids to be famous, or to even be on the stage so much - it's because I'm the mom who coordinates the Variety Show for our elementary school.  This is my fourth year of involvement with the show, and every year I think,

"WHO IN THE HELL LET ME BE IN CHARGE OF ANYTHING?!?!"



I am an incredibly well-intentioned disorganized pre-Alzheimers perimenopausal woman.  It's a miracle some days that my own three kids get fed, clothed, and sent to school, so being in charge of other people's children scares the beJesus out of me.  I don't know how teachers do it.  It's harder to yell at children you aren't tied to by blood.  You can't say things like, "Practice lip-synching that Taylor Swift song better - I'm not your personal DJ!" or "Clean up that act, I'm not your maid!" or "Mommy needs her wine right now".

So the dress rehearsal is tomorrow night and the show is Friday night, at which time I will be walking around with huge red hives on my face, swimming in my own sweat and considering throwing up.  I don't know why I get so worked up about it.  I guess I'm always a bit of a PTA reject, and I enjoy the kids, but I fear judgement by other moms.  You think you're done with all of that craziness in Junior High, but I've learned that the mean girls are just as mean at 40, they're just more sly.  Most of the moms are great, but there's always The One.  I tend to make a spectacle of myself and then go home and think "WHY WHY WHY" while drinking my wine.  *sigh*  Then I hide for another year and come out of the cave when the Variety Show starts again.

I'll try to get Whoreticulture Friday in yet this week, but it might end up on Sextastic Saturday instead.  I hope you're all having a great week!!
 
p.s. The Son is doing "The Evolution of Dance" from You Tube, right down to the Orange Crush shirt, and if I may say so myself, he is nailing it.  That kid cracks me right up.