Sussex columnist: Wondering if I should be on the stage and how I've become an embarrassing mum

​Ignore the fact I can’t sing, dance or act, after watching Les Mis at the weekend, I feel it in my bones that I should be part of this show... a show... any show!

Anybody else do this? Go to a concert/show/dance event/pantomime and come out feeling inspired to change careers?

Maybe it’s because something like Les Misérables, which I saw with my mum and sister on Saturday, is just so wonderfully all-consuming.

For the three hours I was watching it in the theatre, I was completely lost in the drama, the heartache, the comedy, the love stories. How could you not want to be a part of that magic?

I think it’s something I’ve always felt. From watching shows at Walt Disney World through my youth and into adulthood, to getting to go to amazing shows in our capital now, it always just looks like so much fun up there on the stage!

A job that moves people so much (I was in tears at the end) and then results in people giving you a standing ovation, really doesn’t seem too shabby.

And yes, journalism has some real highs – we get to review events, restaurants, experiences; go behind-the-scenes; interview the heads of companies and a whole host more. Just last week, I was tasked with doing a taste test at a cake shop, which I don’t think anybody could complain about.

But nobody has ever clapped and cheered me on my way into work. And while public reaction to journalists isn’t always unkind, there will always be snarky comments and criticism on social media to contend with. But maybe that’s a story for another day...

In the meantime, I thought I’d practice for what would surely be a stellar move into the spotlight, by treating my husband to some of my singing in the car.

In my head, when I join in with Adele as she warbles across the airwaves, we’re on a par. Like musical sparring partners, we’re bouncing off each other, I’m doing little riffs, adding bits to her melodies. It’s symbiotic, it’s harmonious, it’s…. apparently awful.

"Please, please be quiet. You’re tone deaf”, my husband pipes up.

And that, as they say, was the end of that.

So, I’ll be sticking to my day job, I think. Oh, and the odd bit of singing in the car when I don’t have any passengers...

Speaking of singing, it brings up something that’s becoming more and more apparent in our household.

Fairly often, it would seem, my daughter finds me excruciatingly embarrassing.

Now, I join in with a song at my peril for fear of getting an eye roll, or even worse, a direct condemnation: “Mummy, stop, you’re so embarrassing.”

Erm, you’re nine!!! Surely this comes later?! I thought I had at least until my daughter started secondary school before everything I did became mortifying to her.

And it’s not just my voice that’s the problem. We went to our very good friends Tom and Bex’s house on Sunday for a family playdate with our children and theirs.

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Seeing as it was a cold day, and I really hate having cold feet, I packed my slippers.

Admittedly, this probably doesn’t rank highly on the cool points scale. But having warm extremities is not to be sniffed at. My tootsies stayed toasty for the duration – also constant was my daughter’s despair at how her mum arrives at people’s houses with footwear her great-nan would be proud of.

Thankfully, for the moment, just as quickly as I’m seen as a source of amusement, I’m back to being top of the pops.

I was in London all day Saturday, so I didn’t see my daughter until the next morning. When she saw me, she ran to me screaming ‘Mummy!’ and gave me the biggest hug.

I know there’ll be lots of changes ahead on my parenting journey. For now, I’m very much soaking up precious moments like that.