I Think I Need Help

Ironflower and Lovebug appeared in their Theater Week play Friday night. They were, of course, wonderful and it was adorable and I am so proud. Of them.

I was not so much proud of myself as I dragged us to the front of the auditorium and whipped out my iPad. This was after freaking out, thinking we were too far back in the line to get good seats (of course there was a line to go in and of course people lined up way early for it). In addition to recording every moment (even though there were many moments where you couldn't see either kid) of the show, I had my dad and Hot Guy taking pictures during the whole thing, too.

Note to self: White kids, stage lighting and iPhone flashes are not, perhaps, the best combination for taking photos that show faces. Lovebug is the taller one in the middle. 

But even more shameful than acting like the paparazzi staking out Lindsay Lohan at a nightclub, I totally waved at my kids while they were on stage. More than once. I held  bounced the iPad with one hand and WAVED at my kids with the other. Hell, at one point, when one of Ironflower's friends was on the floor near us, I waved at her too.

You know, when Ironflower was first teething and I went from "No TV until she's in preschool" to "Look, if the Wiggles make her stop crying for 15 minutes, she can watch the damn Wiggles at 7 months old", I grasped that actual motherhood might not look like I had imagined it. I realized that many of those things I swore I'd never do would turn out to be done on a regular basis.

But realizing your TV standards are unworkable is one thing, it's quite another to turn into a waving idiot. I mean, I realize that my kids haven't quite got a creative process and that Theater Week doesn't foster deep investment into one's stage character, but still. I was waving. While they were trying to perform. In a way I'd never do during a soccer game. In a way that would have made me cringe in horror if my own mother had ever done it to me. Did I mention I also tried gesturing to Lovebug to get him to stop messing with his costume? And that I started to mouth one of Ironflower's lines with her?

I'm pretty sure I'm just a step or two away from wearing t-shirts with their faces on them to all of their sporting events and performances. Or yelling, "Sing out Louise!" like that crazy mother in Gypsy.

Please stop me.