I've always prided myself in not being a diva-type of actor. (Yes, I recognize the irony in that sentence.) But trying to be in a play when I have a little baby has proven challenging, and I'm afraid I'm turning into that diva who expects special consideration to be made for her.
See, here's the thing. When I agreed to be in The Odd Couple, I had a baby who usually did really well with Daddy, babysitters, anyone. Sometime in the last 5 weeks or so, little elves switched that baby for one who wants Mama and will accept no substitutes. Especially in those emotional evening hours.
You can imagine how totally frustrated Daddy is--while I go to the theatre to have fun, he's been left with a screaming Zoodle. Not every night, but often enough lately that it feels like every night. Zoodle's figured out that Daddy doesn't feel like Mommy, and he certainly doesn't smell like Mommy. (I'm considering pumping into a squirt bottle so I can spritz The Engineer's chest with eau de breastmilk before leaving. Think it would help?)
Finally The Engineer and I had a good talk. "Family should always come before a job," he insisted. "And this isn't even a job!" And as hard as it was to hear, he was right.
So I've e-mailed my director to let her know that I either need to bring Zoodle to rehearsals with me next week (the last week of rehearsals), or come to rehearsals late (since I don't come onstage until about 2/3 of the way through the play.)
Honestly, I should have set this boundary already, but confrontation isn't my favorite thing. And really, that's not fair to anyone--I've been stressed about leaving Zoodle; The Engineer has been awesome but is now teetering on the brink of insanity; and my director deserves an actor who trusts her enough to be honest. I'm pretty sure she'll respond positively, and I wish I'd given her the opportunity to do so earlier.
We open next week. Hopefully my request for special consideration will make the next seven days pleasant ones. And during curtain call I'll push all the other actors behind me while I bow repeatedly for five minutes. I might as well be the very best diva I can be.
Edited, 7:44 p.m.
My director sent back a very nice e-mail. I'll be going to rehearsal an hour and a half late next week. Yeah!