Curtain Up, Light the Lights

Tonight is opening night of Reagle Music Theatre’s annual production of “ChristmasTime.” It’s the 5^th time I’ve performed in the show, and I know it well. I know where my entrances are, how much time I have for each costume change, and which props I carry in each scene. I’ve memorized my music and I know my blocking. I’m even solid on my choreography (which is officially a Christmas miracle). I have no fear of making a mistake or not knowing what to do if something goes wrong. And yet, I still have butterflies in my stomach.

The first time I performed in this show, I was terrified on opening night. But that time, I wasn’t entirely sure of my entrances, I depended on others to tell me what costume to change into next, I still wasn’t solid on all my lyrics and blocking, and I was definitely shaky on some of the choreography. But I got through it with the help of veterans who nudged me into position, made sure I was in the right costume, whispered upcoming dance steps, and just generally shepherded me around. And each succeeding year, I was more comfortable and more confident, and the terror subsided into fear, then jitters, and now, it’s pure excitement.

It’s exciting to be a part of a performance that plays such an important role in so many people’s holiday seasons. There are audience members who have seen this show every year for the past 20 years or more. There are people in the audience who used to come with their parents and who now bring their children. There are parents in the audience watching their children play elves who used to play elves themselves. There are new audience members who, by intermission, have already decided to make the show an annual tradition with their family. I have never yet not been thanked by someone in the audience for making their Christmas extra-special.

What a joy to be a part of something with such a rich tradition! What a blessing to be a blessing to others during this holiday season. What a privilege to bring a message of hope and joy and thanksgiving at a time of year when that message is so often lost in the busy shuffle of shopping and entertaining and chauffeuring kids to parties and activities. We may be up on stage to bring joy to the audience, but we can hardly help bringing joy to our own hearts, as well.

No wonder it gives me butterflies.

Same Time Next Year

Five years ago, I performed in the Reagle Players’ annual production of “It’s ChristmasTime” for the first time. I was newly in love with the man who would soon become my husband, and that new love was imprinted on every scene that we did together. And every year since, re-staging those same numbers brings back the thrill and excitement of falling in love, truly in love, for the very first time.

I’ve often said that because we were older when we got married (I was 39; he was 45), we cherish our relationship more than some. People who marry young and who have been in the same relationship for basically all of their adult lives must find it so easy to take that relationship for granted. And as the often-exhausted parent of two small children, I can see that it is also easy to let the husband-wife relationship fall to the bottom of the priority list once you’re busy playing mom and dad all the time. So I am thankful that I have this event every single year that brings back to my mind everything that made me fall in love with my husband.

This show is really the perfect venue to sum up our relationship. Since it’s a similar production from year to year, it’s put together very quickly with a minimal rehearsal schedule. Which is great for the veterans, but it means that the newbies get a LOT of stuff thrown at them in a very short time. Those of you who know me personally know that I don’t do well with last-minute information, and any of you who have ever performed in a show with me know that I totally stress out about last-minute changes to blocking and choreography. So to get music one month before the show, learn choreography a week before the show, and see a costume plot two days before the show was incredibly stressful for me. Not to mention not knowing the order of the show until dress rehearsal. Most men would have been ready to wring my neck with my constant questions and anxiety, but my sweetheart was patient and understanding, and constantly reassured me that I would be just fine – and, more importantly, assured me that he would be by my side to make sure nothing went wrong. During that first production, I learned that I could trust and rely on him. And he learned that I was willing to step out of my comfort zone to make him happy. Interestingly enough, we now have several scenes where I arrive on stage first and look around for him, then he comes from behind and takes my hand or puts his arm around me. That, too, is a good symbol of our relationship: I was right where I was supposed be, but I was alone and looking for someone, and as soon as he appeared I felt happier and had more of a purpose.

So every year, as we once again step on that stage, my heart goes back to the place where it was all those years ago seeing my husband through the eyes of love, fresh and unspoiled. It’s good for me, and it’s good for US, to be able to remember so clearly what our love was like before it was clouded with the cares of children and money and jobs and reality. And so every year, I look forward to that magic reset button. What do you say, sweetheart? Same time next year?

In 2007, we were newly in love

In 2008, we were newlyweds

[In 2009 I didn’t perform because I was busing having a baby the day of the first rehearsal]

In 2010, we found out on opening night that we were expecting baby #2

In 2011, we were officially "married with children"

And in 2012, we will be happily continuing the tradition in a few short weeks!

"ChristmasTime" Is Here!

For the past four years, my kickoff to the Christmas season has been performing in (or at least watching) the Christmas production of Reagle Music Theatre. Reagle has been performing this show for nearly 40 years. It’s modeled after the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, and includes Rockette-style dancing (including the March of the Wooden Soldiers, complete with the impressive fall at the end); a large vocal ensemble; a teddy bear Nutcracker; dancing and singing Santas, elves, schoolgirls, and Raggedy Anns and Andys; an audience singalong; a visit from Santa; and a living Nativity. It’s a treat for all ages, and it’s a wonderful festive celebration of Christmas.

I first performed in this show when my husband and I were just dating. He knew I was a performer, and he told me that he only wanted to do the show that year if I did it with him, since the rehearsal schedule for the month of November is intense enough that we wouldn’t be able to see each other much unless we both performed in the show. I was flattered that he considered me talented enough to join the group, and I warned him that I tend to get very anxious and a bit crazy during tech week, so if he saw me at my worst and still wanted to date me, I’d know we were on solid ground. He reassured me and coached me throughout the process, and I made many wonderful friends during that first year. And they were all delighted for both of us just a few weeks later when we announced our engagement.

The second year was much less stressful, because it was just refreshing my memory instead of having to learn everything from scratch, plus I was among friends from the very beginning. I was no longer one of the “newbies”; in fact, I was able to offer some help to the newbies that year because I had put together a bunch of notes and cheat sheets that I shared with them. It felt great to be able to offer help instead of asking for it. And of course, being a starry-eyed newlywed, every scene reminded me of the previous year when we were newly in love.

Our third Christmas together, we missed out on performing because I was busy giving birth to our son when rehearsals started. The wonderful specialness of that year was being in the audience and appreciating the performance from a spectator’s perspective, and also in having my son in the audience with us, at six weeks old, fascinated by the bright lights and beautiful music. His wide-eyed wonder was the perfect symbol of the season.

Last year was perhaps the most special performance at all, because I found out just a few hours before curtain on opening night that I was pregnant with our second child. And to make it even more special, during one performance, my husband sneaked our son into one of the scenes with kids.

This year marked my return to the stage after our daughter was born, and it was a special time for my husband and I, once again, to spend “couple time” together at rehearsals. Thanks to his wonderful mother and daughter, our kids were well taken care of while we rehearsed and performed, and we were able to enjoy some much-needed social and musical relaxation. And once again, as I was on stage, I recalled each past year of performing: falling in love, being a newlywed, being a new mother, and being a new mother again. This show is, in many ways, a symbol of both our growing love and our growing family. The message of the show is the peace and joy of the Christmas season, and the birth of Christ the Savior, and it reminds me that the holiday is not about giving or receiving physical gifts but about the gifts of love and sacrifice.

May we all be reminded of that as we go through this often hectic and tense Christmas season. May the joy and peace of the Christ Child fill each of your hearts in the coming days and weeks, as we approach the birthday of Him who brings salvation to the world. Oh come let us adore Him!

Opening Night! It's Opening Night!

Tonight is opening night for the Reagle Music Theatre’s annual production of “It’s ChristmasTime”! This is my third year performing in the show (I missed last year because I was busy giving birth and all that), and it has really become one of the main kickoffs of the holiday season for me.

The first time I did the show, Herb and I had only been dating for a few months. He had done the show a number of times previously, and really wanted to perform in it that year, but he admitted that the rehearsal schedule for the two weeks before the show and the performance schedule for the two weekends of shows was time-consuming enough that he didn’t want to do it unless I did it with him, since otherwise we wouldn’t be able to spend much time together. So I agreed, and dug an audition piece out of my repertoire, polished it up, and proceeded to totally plotz over it. Herb kept assuring me that I’d be fine and I shouldn’t even worry about it, but being the somewhat tightly-wound person that I am, I drove myself crazy, and then after the brief (probably about 60-second) audition and the official nod of approval, I wondered what I had been so nervous about.

For first-time performers, there’s an awful lot to learn. Some of the Christmas carols are familiar, but some are new and even the familiar ones are often unfamiliar arrangements or unusual harmonies. Some of the numbers have a bit of choreography, as well: step-touch here, raise your hands there, turn out to the audience on this word, turn off your candle on that. Nothing too complicated, but one more detail thrust into a brain that’s already full to overflowing. And then you need to know the order of the numbers and what you’re wearing in each – including shoes, hose, jewelry, and props. Herb made me a CD of a pervious performance and I kept it in my car at all times, listening carefully so I could pick out the correct harmony line and be sure I was singing what I was supposed to be. Herb reassured me over and over that it was okay if I forgot some of the words, and that people would nudge me into the right position or whisper the upcoming choreography if I needed it, but I was determined to get everything right all on my own. (Of course, I screwed up all over the place, but at least I made the effort. And Herb was right, nobody noticed.)

And yet, somehow I was able to get past my nerves and apprehension and enjoy being on stage with Herb. The singers are paired off for many of the numbers, and it was always reassuring to have my hand firmly tucked into Herb’s, knowing he’d be sure I was in the right place at the right time. I could see how much he was enjoying being on stage, and his pleasure made me enjoy being on stage, too. I remember watching him during a few of the men’s numbers and just enjoying his calm stage presence, listening to his wonderful voice and watching him come alive with the audience’s reaction. I fell even more deeply in love with him during those shows, if that was even possible.

And so now, after doing the show a few more times, I still get that new-love flutter in my heart when he catches my eye and takes my hand before we make our first entrance together. I still beam like a lovesick teenager when he puts on his sunglasses and grins impishly at the audience at the beginning of “Little Saint Nick”. And my heart still melts as he interacts with the children who come onstage for the sing-along. I remember the first time I saw that and I thought, “I wonder what he’ll be like with our children?” Because now I know exactly what he’s like. And it’s even better than I’d imagined.



On the First Day of Christmas

Since Herb and I perform in the Reagle Music Theatre’s annual production of “It’s ChristmasTime” every year, which runs the first two weekends of December and which generally involves us hosting a cast party, we always put up our Christmas decorations on the weekend after Thanksgiving. And by “Christmas decorations”, I don’t mean just the Christmas tree. We transform the entire house into a Christmas wonderland, inside and out. The top of the piano hosts an entire Christmas village, complete with a carousel, children throwing snowballs, a swan pond, a trolley, a theater, and a cobblestoned footbridge. The mantelpiece is filled with greens and berries and glitter-adorned candles, with an array of nutcrackers standing at attention. We drape swags of greenery over the entryway, across the living room ceiling, over the banisters, and around the mirror in the front hallway. The sideboard is cleared of its usual array of wineglasses and candlesticks to make room for the manger and the Magi. The chandelier gets bedecked with festive red bows. White icicle lights twinkle from the eaves. Wreaths adorn every door. And of course, the stockings are hung by the chimney with care.

But the crowning glory is always the Christmas tree. We are among the diehards who refuse to give in to an artificial tree. The feel, the scent, the imperfections and variations from year to year just can’t be imitated by an artificial tree. So we made our annual trek to Seasons Four in Lexington to get the complete tree-picking experience. We began by grabbing an unused flatbed cart in the parking lot, plopping Ryan onto it, and then making our way through rows and rows of fragrant green trees until we reached the section with the hardy Fraser firs. I love the rich smell of the balsams and the dusty color of the blue spruces, but when you put your tree up as early as we do, nothing beats the longevity of a Fraser fir. So while Ryan attempted to eat the red berries that were rolling across the flatbed, Herb pulled out tree after tree and we evaluated each one for symmetry, fullness, height, freshness, and overall personality. We soon found a lovely tree that had a beautiful shape and was full without being too big around for our room, and I evicted Ryan from his throne on the flatbed so Herb could have the tree trimmed and wrapped for the trip home. While he was doing that, Ryan and I went to visit the alpacas and the baby goats at the back of the tree lot. Ryan was more interested in the other children who were feeding the animals than he was in the animals themselves, but once he was standing nose to nose with a little grey goat who licked his fingers hoping for a treat, he got a little more interested.

It was getting a bit chilly by then, so we went inside to warm up for a few minutes and to check out all the theme trees inside. Ryan’s eyes were like saucers as he contemplated tree after tree full of twinkling white lights and glittering ornaments. We even found a Sesame Street-themed tree featuring Bert, Ernie, Cookie Monster, Oscar, Big Bird, and of course, his buddy Elmo. But leave it to Ryan, even as we were checking out the Sesame Street tree, he looked over my shoulder and announced, “K! K! K!” (which means “clock”, his latest obsession). I told him that no, there weren’t any clocks in here, but then I peered into the corner where he was pointing and wouldn’t you know, there was a clock with a 6-foot wide face. So we stood in front of that clock for a while as his face lit up with the wonder that is usually reserved for seeing the full stockings on Christmas morning, or sitting on Santa’s lap.

Eventually we tore him away from the clock and headed back home to unload the tree. We weren’t sure how he’d react to all the chaos and temptation of decorating the tree, so we waited until he was in bed to put up the tree and start decorating it. I’ll admit it: decorating the tree is my very favorite part of Christmas. And I especially love our tree, because we created a very special tree all our own just before we were married. I was living in an apartment with a cat who would have decimated a Christmas tree, so we decorated his house together. I don’t remember exactly what inspired us, but we decided to do a bird-themed tree, using glass icicles and baubles, snowflakes, pine cones, and every kind of bird ornament we could find. We cover the tree with hundreds and hundreds of tiny white lights and don’t use any tinsel or garlands (I’m a tinsel girl who hates garlands and Herb’s a bead/garland guy who hates tinsel – it was a very convenient compromise). We have dozens of feathered cardinal ornaments that add splashes of red everywhere, with a few bright blue jays, a goldfinch or two, a couple of robins, and even a jeweled hummingbird adding a dash of color here and there. The result, in my opinion, is breathtaking and glorious:

The crystal snowflakes, baubles, and icicles move gently with the warm air currents, catching the light and adding a gentle, ever-changing glimmer to the tree.

The cardinals nestling cozily into the crook of a limb, the chickadees perched pertly on the tips of branches, the blue jays seeming to cock their heads and fix their dark eyes on the observer, the majestic pheasant, the graceful dove, the proud peacock, the goldfinch flashing its bright gold feathers, the owls peeking wisely and watchfully from their perches, all the birds bring such a sweet, natural, peaceful beauty to the tree.

And so our bird tree is once again the centerpiece of our Christmas décor. It is festive, elegant, simple, and beautiful. And I hope it still will be when we have to put the playpen around it to protect it from a curious one-year-old who is just a bit too fascinated by it for his own good.

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Today, I am Superwoman. I am wearing so many hats that you can’t even see my head. I am mother supreme, I am master baker, I am prolific author, I am seamstress extraordinaire, and I am professional chanteuse. Fortunately, I am also an organizational whiz, otherwise I would never get everything done that needs doing today.

Ryan has been a bit clingy and whiny over the past few days, so he’s claiming a bit more attention than he otherwise might. And since he’s had a few babysitters lately and will be having a bunch more next week, I feel the need to give him extra cuddles and snuggles to reassure him that Mommy isn’t going anywhere. I want to be certain he feels secure and loved, even more so than usual. (Daddy would probably say I’m spoiling him a bit and he’s just fine – which of course he is – but that’s why babies have Mommies AND Daddies.) So instead of just letting him whine in his playpen for a few hours while I get other things done, I’m spending a lot more time playing with him, sitting and reading with him, and just generally keeping him company.

Next on the list is my one make-ahead item for Thanksgiving dinner: Parker House rolls. I love Parker House rolls. No, that’s not exactly true. I ADORE Parker House rolls. I could probably live for a week, quite happily, on nothing but Parker House rolls. And I have fond childhood memories of having Parker House rolls at family get-togethers like Easter, Christmas, birthdays, and of course, Thanksgiving. So since the pies are being contributed by various family members, I decided the one thing I’d make completely from scratch for Thanksgiving dinner (I’m not counting heating the veggies or gravy or even cooking the turkey or making the stuffing – there’s very little culinary finesse involved in those) would be a batch of fresh Parker House rolls. Making these rolls is not especially difficult, but it is time-consuming. And not just time-consuming, but time-dependent, since there are long pauses while the dough rises but when it’s ready, it has to be dealt with NOW! (Motherhood has prepared me well for that kind of demand, actually.) So as soon as Ryan went down for his nap, I went to work scalding and measuring and kneading. And providing that Ryan’s nap schedule cooperates (ha!), I should be able to get in the next step right before he wakes up from his nap and starts demanding his lunch.

And until that stage is reached, I have a few minutes to get my blog going. I often think about ideas for a blog entry at random times of the day or night, as something strikes me. Sometimes I even lie in bed at night, mentally composing the next day’s blog. (Sometimes I even remember them the next morning!) And then some days, I sit in front of a blank Word document and discover that my mind is just as devoid of ideas as the screen in front of me. Fortunately, most of the time all I need to do is mentally review the previous day and there’s something that Ryan did that is fertile material for a blog entry. And today was one of those days when I did have a nervous moment staring at the screen – but even while I was staring, my inside voice was reminding me, “You need to check the rolls! You need to finish that hem! You need to memorize your lyrics!” And I knew what today’s blog would be. So here I am, inviting all of you into the glorious chaos that is my life.

If by some chance I manage to finish this entry and the rolls aren’t ready for the next step and Ryan is still napping, I’ll have a chance to jump back into my role as seamstress. As many of you who know me personally are aware, for the past few years (with the exception of last year, when I was kind of busy with a new baby), Herb and I have performed in the Reagle Music Theatre’s annual Christmas production, “It’s ChristmasTime!” This is a wonderful show that I look forward to every year. Herb and I first performed in the show together when we were just dating, so it will always have a special place in my heart. But aside from that, it is a show full of wonderful performers who are also my dear friends, and it is a show full of wonderful Christmas music, both familiar and a bit less common. And it is a delightfully festive way to begin the Christmas season, both for the audience and for the performers. The interesting thing for the performers is that every year, the cast is a mix of new performers and cast members who have done the show for ten, fifteen, even twenty or more years. It’s a joy to us veterans to watch the newbies flounder but then find their feet, to recall our own moments of terror and feeling of unpreparedness, and to reassure them that no-one will notice if they sing the wrong words, and that if they forget where to go next someone will nudge them into the right spot.

But part of the challenge in having so many newcomers in the cast is that they all have to somehow get costumes. Reagle has a pretty extensive stock of costumes, but there is still a limited number of sizes to fit an unlimited number of various-sized bodies. Which means that there are always piles of last-minute alterations. A skirt to be hemmed here, a vest to be let out there, a zipper to be mended, a hook to be re-stitched, a pulled seam to be re-sewn. So after last night’s rehearsal, I found myself heading home with a stack of costumes needing little mends and tweaks. I spent last night taking my seam ripper to this and my needle and thread to that, digging through my sewing box for a length of fabric in the right shade of brown or a hook the right size to fit an existing loop. And this morning most of the pile was still remaining, so while Ryan is either dozing upstairs or curiously peering over the playpen wall to see what I’m doing, I’ll be continuing to sew up a storm until everything in the “to be done” pile is finally in the “done” pile.

The reason that I need to get it all into the done pile today is that we have one more rehearsal tonight, and I need to deliver everything to their rightful owners in case any more tweaks are needed. Which means that as well as finishing all my sewing, I need to polish up my own music. It’s amazing how much two years and having a baby can dissolve blocking and lyrics out of a person’s brain. But I have no doubt that a few more run-throughs and it’ll all be back in my head. (And if it’s not, I’m sure some of the 20-year veterans will nudge me back into the correct spot.)

Hm, did I remember everything? Oh wait – I forgot to put eating on the schedule. Oh well, I’m sure I’ll make up for any missed meals on Thanksgiving Day.