Today was hard! Like probably the hardest day of parenting I have had so far in 8.5 years of being a parent. Harder than the sleepless nights. Harder than the pain of childbirth. The hardest. Today I had to console a devastated 8.5 year old after she did not get a “call back” for her audition for a play. Now you may not think that is hard. But YOU my dear are sorely mistaken. Seeing your child in tears, completely inconsolable, knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can say or do to make it better, is the hardest thing to deal with as a parent. Now I know that there will be many more times over the course of my child’s life that we will be in this situation. The loss of first love. The pain of a loved one passing. But this was the first time.

This is not her first theater rodeo. She has been doing theater summer camp for 4 years now and has gotten some really great roles. But this was different. This was a new theater company, it was an all ages casting call and she had to prepare a specific song that they chose. In the past she was able to choose any song she wanted. So we practiced. We practiced for weeks! She worked so hard for this audition.

I should disclose that I am tone deaf. I know…shocking…but I am! But husband finally had the guts to tell me. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE to sing. I sing in the car, in the shower, around the house, while cooking and cleaning, at shows, pretty much anywhere! But it is true! I am tone deaf, which means I cannot help her with the singing part if we want her to be good. I left her to her own devices. Quite literally, I found the karaoke version of the song and the live version of the song and she was left to figure it out on her own. I wish that I could have done more to help her. But alas, I could not.

Well we auditioned today at 4:15. She went in confident and ready, after a small freak out in the car, but we all need to get those jitters out right??? AFTER the freak out, she went in confident and ready. She sang her song, with only 1 moment of prompting from the director (she is 8 after all) and she came out feeling good about her audition. We waited patiently for her two friends to finish their auditions and then went for ice cream as a group to celebrate what they all just did. Which was a HUGE thing. I do not care who or what, getting up at 8 years to sing along in front of adults in hopes of getting casted is a HUGE thing!! So we celebrate with ice cream! It was a wonderful outing and she loved it.

We came home to watch Newsies, the 1992 film version obviously, and as soon as the movie ended the call back list was up. And her name wasn’t on it. Both her friends’ names were on it, being called back for the role that she wanted. Watching her take the news that she did not get a call back just gutted me. I could see the wheels turning in her head. I could her brain taking in the information. Then her world ended.

I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t say anything. I could only sit there while she processed and cried and it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I wanted to wrap her up in a hug and curse and bad mouth the people involved. I wanted to cry with her and her she never has to do anything like that ever again. I wanted to hold her and tell her that she can never leave the house again if that is what she wants. All of those things are the wrong answer. I sat there and did my best. I did my best to let her know how proud I am of how hard she worked. I did my best to make her feel loved and supported. I did my best to validate her feelings. I did my best to just be there.

Eventually, she went to her room alone. I gave her space. With her gone, I reached out to the parents of her friends that did get call backs and congratulated them and wished them luck and even gave tips and advice for the call back. After giving her sufficient time to process and be alone, I went to check on her. We sat in mostly silence for the next half hour. We snuggled, she cried, she pulled away, we snuggled again, she pulled away, she cried, she was fine, she snuggled and on and on and on. Until finally she got under her covers and indicated she was ready to sleep.

Grief is exhausting. Whatever you are grieving, it is exhausting. By the end of the night, she was at a point where nothing I said was going to be absorbed. She needed sleep and time to properly process and grieve this situation.

What I need to do now is tread lightly. I need to help her grieve this situation, without her losing her love and passion for theater. If this is truly what she wants she needs to be prepared for disappointment and struggle. It is such a hard lesson to learn at 8.5. And such a hard situation to be in as a parent. But all I can do is be there for her and support her as she processes through this. We never “get over it.” That is not the right way to grieve. When you grieve, you move through “it.” “It” will always be with you, making you better, stronger, different, but “it” will always be a part of who you are. I just hope I am doing my part right. For her sake!