My daughter's middle school drama department held its third annual One Act Writing Competition. All of the Theatre Arts One students participated. There were 154 in all. Only 9 plays would win, but all would perform. All of these plays were written and directed by middle school students ranging in age from 11-14. Kristin wrote a humorous tale about a slumber party being crashed by boys. But the girls taught them a lesson about make up in the end which left them scattering. Hers was not chosen, but she was guaranteed a part in one of the nine plays. She got the lead in a play entitled "The One Acts" in which "Ann" is trying desperately to figure out what to write about for her one act. The play was written by a 6th grade student.
The kids did not have microphones, so the volume needs to be good and loud.
She shined in this little performance. The character she portrayed is nothing like the person she truly is.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
I just hate it when my kids are sick. It breaks your heart to see them hurting in any way. Especially when they are so sick there is no light in their eyes, and no smile on their face. Ryan woke up yesterday with a flushed red face. This was not a red face from being warm beneath the blankets, this was a flush burning hot face. He frowned at me and kind of cried. I had already promised to teach his class at church. His teacher was home with her baby who was also sick. There is just something yucky going around. Rich said he would stay home with Ryan. I asked him if he was sure he wanted to do that. Ryan wants me the most under normal circumstances, but since he was sick he was sure to want Mom only. Rich assured me he would be fine. I went onto church with my cell phone on vibrate, knowing the primary would accommodate me if needed.
After church, I found Ryan just as pitiful if not more so as when I left him. He looked so hot and miserable. His skin looked sunburned. I had to go to the pharmacy and get him some Tylenol. It took me two hours to convince him to take it. He finally did, but was still burning hot after 20 minutes. His temperature was 103. I decided to take him to the ER. I hate the ER. It is littered with sick and germs. Sick and germs that you can not see, but you know are there. They make a germ phobe like me, very unsettled. We were very lucky, in that we were in and out in two hours. A record. Ryan's temp had dropped to 98.8, however I feel this was a misread because his body still felt hot to me. Though I could tell it had gone down.
When it came down to it, they labeled it as "Viral Syndrome." Huh? Why does everything have to be a syndrome? Anyway, the treatment was what I already knew: push fluids, rest, and alternate Tylenol and Motrin as needed. He ate toast for dinner and took a sippy cup of juice to bed with him. I know it is a no-no, but this time it was necessary.
I hate seeing them sick. You just ache for them, and wish you could magic it all away. I wonder how our Heavenly Father must feel when we are sick or hurting in any way. He must ache for us as well. He is after all, our Eternal Father.