Breaking the Seal

Springtime always makes me nostalgic. Hopeful, happy, and wistful... This year, with so many monumental changes in my life, just seeing the trees yesterday caused me to out and out sob. I am serious. They were so green, and so fresh! Beside them, the first goslings of the year were toddling about on the newly mown slope that led down to the lake and I lost my shit under a sky so blue it was blinding. With my windows open and upbeat music playing, I had to pull over and let the grief  over the swiftness of life wash over me.

I know I can't hold back the emotions when they hit. At least, not for long. If I am feeling overcome, keeping my tears inside doesn't help anything. It's such a release to just bawl, knowing it won't be permanent. Just as nothing in the springtime lasts for much longer than a moment, my pain for everything I have lost (and am going to lose) doesn't have to stick around too long, either.

I hadn't really gotten emotional during our read through's for the Listen To Your Mother show. I mean, I was really upset in August when I learned of the upcoming ending, but it was still in the distant future and I was overwhelmed with so many other losses, that this one didn't take precedence. The other day, Melisa and I read through the final version of our script and the last words that we will ever read on stage and...nothing. I didn't cry.

"Crap. I really need to cry," I told her. I knew that if it didn't come out beforehand, it would be too much on stage on May 7th. I needed a pre-cry!!

I started listing all of the things that I would miss about the show, and all of the people I was in contact with that I wouldn't be talking to as much, and that I probably wouldn't ever be working with her on a project again (she moved to Knoxville!)... And then the seal was broken. It isn't the stage, or the attention, or the sharing of my own stories that I will truly miss (though I love all of that, so very much). It is knowing that this portion of my life, with constant contact with people that I love, will be over.

And I'm ok with it. I AM. Shut up. I AM. Just like I'm "ok" with my kids growing up and life changing and, gulp, the death of my dad. I'm ok with it in that I have no control over any of them, and so I HAVE TO be ok, otherwise...what would I be?

The sheer beauty in the greenness of those trees and freshness of the goslings is the impermanence of it all. Life is precious because it is fleeting. If my babies were to be babies forever, the joy of new discoveries wouldn't exist. I treasure the peaks of joy in life because they are just that: peaks, surrounded by valleys. Up and Down and up again...

I cry a lot. I always have. I feel the moments pass and the emotions overwhelm me. Joy and pain are just opposite sides of the same coin and I KNOW that I cannot have one without the other. And so I choose to enjoy this moment in my life. Climbing this current mountain of hope and happiness and trying to enjoy all of the small moments that Life presents to me.

The Privilege

Spent a bit more of my day in tears than I had planned on, but at least I was prepared for the tears in general. Today is the first day of the submission period for the Chicago Listen To Your Mother Show. Today was the day where we started to see the shape of the show as it slowly comes to life. It's so indistinct on day one; We still have 13 days left in which to fall in love with many more pieces, and knowing how beautiful these first submissions have been makes the tears flow a little faster.. I've been down this road before and it's AMAZING and FANTASTIC but it's also gut-wrenching and personal.

Melisa and I always use the metaphor of comparing the process of bringing our show to stage to giving birth to a child.

This first day is the initial ultrasound. We can see the shape of our baby! It is alive and moving and it's BEAUTIFUL and vibrant and we are in love with it already! Without any knowledge of our baby's personality, size, or even gender, we are still enamored of it, and in awe that we are responsible for bringing this baby, our show, to the stage in a few months.

The Privilege, it is REAL.

So, please pay no attention to the tears in my eyes. Pay no attention to my distracted state and inability to complete a conversation. I am simply an expectant producer, who has finally seen the heartbeat of her show-to-be.

And it is beautiful.

Yes, this is a scheduled post. I'm at BlogHer!

I realized that I never posted my own video after the Chicago Listen To Your Mother Show this year. Hmmm. Being a producer does that to you, I guess? I really want for EVERYone's pieces to be viewed and adored, but I kind of think my own is pretty hilarious, too. So, if you have 5 minutes and 9 seconds to spare for a few giggles, here is my 2014 LTYM Chicago piece, "Sweeter Than Honey."

It's all true. Every word. In fact, this is one of the TAMER stories I have to share. 

My kids are going to need therapy, for sure.

Memory Moments

So many moments from this weekend of our 3rd Listen To Your Mother in Chicago are burned into my memory. Even more of them are already fading. It's one of those tricks of fate that causes the moments that you actually DO remember to become even more precious, I suppose.

Coffee at my table before I woke up the boys.

Curling my hair and having it actually all take and hold.

Watching the temperature gauge on our van rise and rise and rise and DINGDINGDING on the way to the theater, and trying to not lose my shit over what we would do if the van died. Call a cab to pick up me and my family and several bags and boxes of supplies in addition to the awkward music stand? Call a cab and leave said family behind on I94 because they didn't fit into the cab with all of my paraphernalia?

Walking through the doors into the auditorium and seeing that massive, empty stage. Knowing that in just a few hours, hearts would be touched by the stories we had chosen to showcase. Knowing that in just a few hours, the 2014 Chicago show would be over.

Seeing the variety of excitement/nerves/fear on the faces of our cast.

Calming some tears.

Hugging some friends.

Running through details. Smiling for photos. Laughing and laughing and laughing.

Holding the curtain for traffic-bogged latecomers...

Watching the curtain rise and feel like I'm floating through the show. Smoothly and happily and without any monumental hiccups.

Seeing so many alumni faces and realizing, during a group picture, just how many lives we've already touched... feeling floored at the knowledge that the stories we put on stage continue to touch and move and change countless viewers on YouTube. Knowing that I'm a part of something so vast and important and monumental... it moves me. It absolutely rocks me to my core.

I can't wait to see the posed pictures of all of the cast in attendance!

Meeting a sweet baby cousin for the first time and holding that tiny little soul in my arms. Remembering the moments of my own babies and how they seem to have just slipped away like little bits of mercury; the more I reach out to touch them, the further away they race and divide and disappear.

Seeing a set of pink boots that used to belong to my daughter upon the tiny feet of a friend's toddler. Remembering their walks to the park and the trees that they climbed; wishing I could still be a part of the future adventures they have yet to experience.

the little pink boots in 2008...

All of the moments and all of the feelings and all of the slippery bits of mercury rolling away from my memory... All that and a ball of wax.

Find New Roads

This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Chevrolet's sponsorship of Listen To Your Mother, but opinions are my own.

One of the best parts of living in the Chicagoland area is our proximity to so many other cities and destinations. I'm telling you, I spent 1 week on the island of Kauai and by the 7th day I was all "Ok. I've seen it all here! I've driven every road (literally) and am already starting to feel trapped."

ON KAUAI. Can you believe it? I felt trapped in paradise.

I am obviously a person who needs the wide open spaces of the Midwest and the ability to just DRIVE without hitting a natural barrier every 25 minutes.

On Sunday, my "platonic lobster" and co-producer for the Chicago Listen To Your Mother Show, Melisa Wells, and I took to the road in a Chevy Volt. We were headed to the Milwaukee #LTYM show in support of our fellow producers and also to have a fantastic time promoting the Chevrolet campaign, #FindNewRoads.

 We decided to take that as a reason to visit The Cheese Castle in Kenosha because, obviously, CHEESE.

Gosh, we're cute. AmIright? We need to carry wind machines with us 24/7. And also, cheese.

I love that Melisa felt the need to cautiously inform me that it's a castle that SELLS cheese, not a castle MADE OF cheese. I laughed at the time, but now I'm wondering if she felt the need to tell me that because she actually believed that I MIGHT ACTUALLY THINK it was made of cheese?

Fully loaded up on cheese and "trail mix"*, we be-bopped our way to Milwaukee's venue and had a great time just hanging out with the many friends we knew there.

Me, Kari Wagner Hoban, Melisa Wells, Jennifer Evers, Shannon Duffy, Ann Imig

It doesn't get much better than laughing hysterically while you re-create a BETTER "Oscar Selfie," does it?

The Milwaukee show was so excellent! It was fun to just experience the show without the behind-the-scenes influence that being a producer carries. We laughed; we cried. We nodded and said "Me too."

Getting cozy in the Volt with Melisa and LTYM founder, Ann Imig. This one picture required 43 attempts with instructions on how to hold the camera at the best angle and not make it appear as though one person's head was 5 times larger than the rest.

 This was the best result. 

I'm still laughing.

Melisa, Tracey, Alexandra, Ann Imig, Jennifer

Man, I was having a blast! Melisa and I cruised over to the after-show party which was totally chill and cozy at a local bar and grill. We made sure to eat plenty of cheesy foods (because DUH, WisCONsin!) while we got to know the cast and reconnected with fellow producers from Milwaukee, Alexandra Rosas and Jennifer Pody Gaskell. I was so grateful for the opportunity to just get out and away from the craziness of homeschooling 2 kids and the final days of preparation for the Chicago show. Laughing with friends, driving the open road, eating cheese, and truly feeling the connection to this massive entity that is Listen To Your Mother... It overwhelms me. 

Still, after all of that driving and laughing and listening to mothers and laughing and cheese-eating, I realized, as I pulled into my driveway that night, exhausted but elated, that no path or road or adventure is ever as wonderful as the path that leads me back home. Yes, I love to Find New Roads, but only one road leads me back to these faces:

That truly is the best road of all.

This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Chevrolet as part of their sponsorship of the Listen To Your Mother Show 2014 season. Learn more about their sponsorship at the Listen To Your Mother Show website.

*Melisa learned how to make "trail mix" from her mother in law. It is the best trail mix in the world as it contains every type of delicious chocolate, dried fruit, chocolate, nuts, chocolate and pretzels in the world. She also throws a little extra chocolate in there, just to be sure that you never run out of the chocolate. I believe that I groaned "OH MY GOD" in sheer joy 487 times on that car ride...

Hush, what's that sound?

Shhhhh.... What's that sound?

Oh yeah. It's the SILENCE. The silence of no one but me, my softly snoring husband and my not-so-softly-snoring trusty dog just chilling on the couch on this fantastically perfect Saturday.

Kid 1 is at some card game thing that he is passionately excited about. My teenager wants to do something he loves that doesn't involve me worrying over drugs or teenage pregnancy? AWESOME. Here's some cash to buy more Magic cards. Do you need a ride?

Kid 2 has spent the day at an entertainment place that is a roller rink/bowling alley/bumper car/mini golf/laser tag/arcade for a belated birthday party. He is currently running around at the park with his buddy. None of the neighbors have called to alert me to any highly inappropriate behavior and/or language, so I'm knocking wood that this will continue on for the rest of the afternoon and calling it a parenting win.

Kid 3 has gone to a friend's house to play. I am SO HAPPY that she has found girls her age in our neighborhood! So many of her buddies have moved away or have aged out of "playing" that she has been feeling a little lonely lately. THANK GOD FOR GIRL SCOUTS! She's met lots of girls that live in our immediate vicinity that are the exact same age and are all really sweet. Woot woot! I'll buy as many cookies as I need to continue these afternoons of friends that live around the corner!

Kid 4 (husband) looks so cute with a little bit of drool on the pillow. I kind of want to wake him up and wink my eye at him (hey hey! The kids are all gone!) but we had a late night last night and are both still digesting all of the meat we managed to ingest at Fogo De Chao last night. Holy balls, I'm still full just thinking about it....

Kid 5 (mah DOGGY!) is dream-chasing one of those rabbits that keeps taunting her. Damn BUNNIES! My poor baby. She's tormented by them and that stupid squirrel that has decided that our bird feeder is a buffet for rodents. Let it be known that I DO NOT LIKE SQUIRRELS. She is completely allowed to catch any squirrel that is caught unawares within our property. It has been posted; spread the word.

Ahhhh.... Only 8 days till Listen To Your Mother in Chicago is on stage. EEEeeeeEEE!!!! Do me a solid and spread the word to other Chicagoland people? We have a huge theater and plenty of space for last minute ticket buyers. 10% of our ticket proceeds go to RecoveryOnWater.org so you can have a good time AND do something for a good cause! WIN WIN WIN!*

photo courtesy of Balee Images

*I accidentally typed "wine wine wine" but felt it would probably be inappropriate to leave it that way.

When do they start listening to their mother?

"Hey, guys! GUYS! Up! Up! Up! Get up and get dressed; we only have 30 minutes till we have to go!"

Silence.

"GUYS! NOW."

Brush my hair. Powder my nose. Hear nothing from the other room and so I call out,

"Evan and Corinne?!? Are you moving?"

Silence.

"HELLOO!?!? CAN YOU HEAR ME?!?"

Grunts acknowledge me. Barely.

Once they are finally vertical, the process still seems to be centered around the idea that nothing can get accomplished in the morning until I have yelled it. It should be noted that I never START with the yelling, though they will probably "remember" these days quite differently when they own their own blogs in about 20 years. Let posterity show that I START the conversation as such:

"Please change your shirt, put on CLEAN socks and shoes, brush your teeth and be standing by the front door with your book. Do you hear me? Hello? Evan??!?"

3 minutes later, I see him sitting on the couch, petting the cat, wearing filthy socks and last night's shirt.

"HEY! Change your shirt, socks and shoes, brush your teeth and go stand by the front door with your book!! Hurry up!"

Repeat the same conversation to his sister, twice.

8 minutes have passed.

I am almost done with make up and hair and am looking for my travel coffee mug when they both race past me in various states of "readiness." They're laughing hysterically because Corinne has a box on her head and Evan is shouting "left! right!" as directions. I'm kind of getting livid at this point because, as we all know, NO ONE has listened to me all morning long.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, Get ready!! How many times!?!? How many times do I have to ask you before you do what needs to be done?!? WHY do you only respond to me when I have resorted to shouting?!?!"

Ever have that issue? Ever have the problem of children just not listening to their mother?

Well come on over, then. Sit down and let's commiserate.

In fact, I have just the show for you that's all about this problem and the problems (and joys) that motherhood brings. Every single ticket purchased will have 10% of the proceeds donated to a local charity called RecoveryOnWater.org which is a rowing-exercise program that provides emotional and physical assistance for women who have been through treatment for breast cancer. BUT TODAY (until 8 pm CST), we are donating 20% of all ticket proceeds to ROW!! That means that you can come to an amazing show, where people will ACTUALLY BE LISTENING TO MOTHERS and help out an even MORE amazing charity, all in one fell swoop!

Please visit our site for more information on Listen To Your Mother, or head directly to the Ovationtix.com site to purchase your tickets before 8 pm (CST) tonight! Pass it on!

Photo credit Balee Images

Lots of photos!

The cast is fighting over who will hire Brandi Lee of Balee Images. You see, we all want her to follow us around and take pictures of us, all the time, every day, for eternity...

 The cast of Listen To Your Mother Chicago, 2014. Looking quite beautiful and cheerful, despite the 25 degree weather on those back steps of our rehearsal venue in March.

 Melisa and I! Sorry, but aren't we gorgeous??

 It was all thanks to these two. Brandi and Elizabeth Rago (cast member from 2013. You may remember her piece as the insanely adorable "toot piece.")

 We really don't enjoy this show very much, do we? I mean, look at us! We are positively bored.

 The passing of the Kleenex. There was much joking, but it was used by all, for all types of tear removal.

This is one of my absolute favorite shots. So glad Andrea didn't pee or go into labor from all of the laughing.

 I got to hold the baby!!!! He's smooshy and adorable and didn't cry when I snuggled him. THAT MEANS HE LIKES ME!

 This is my other favorite picture! Especially since Melisa has green nails and she has many feelings about the green nails.

 The giggle and cry duo. Every joke; they laughed. Every moment; they cried. I think every show needs a few of these ladies to boost confidence!

All Photos courtesy of Balee Images.

Tickets are on sale for the 2014 LTYM Chicago Show! 

Stream of Thought

Not to beat a dead horse, but this winter is kinda pissing me off. I don't think we need to make up for 3 mild winters ALL IN ONE FELL SWOOP. I also think it's beyond ridiculous that this massive amount of snow will be melting in the next 4 days. Once the rain begins to fall, and fall, and fall (as the meteorologists continue to predict), all of that precipitation will combine with the accumulated precipitation that is already gathered in heaping drifts around my home...and it will need to go somewhere. Seeing as how the ground is frozen solid, and that we have a history of a slight water issue in our basement (we need to reseal it and probably get another sump pump), I foresee water in the basement this weekend. There is extra awesome added to this possibility (probability) as Patrick will be out of town all weekend and I will be gone for Corinne's gymnastics meet all day on Saturday. Joy! I am positive that Saturday will be filled with absolutely NO anxiety or tension. None-whatsoever. (One truly good part is that Justin will probably want to stay home on Saturday and can then be on water lookout. That said, I don't know how much actual "good" he can accomplish on his own.)

TOPIC CHANGE

At this very moment, instead of hanging out at our usual Tuesday Homeschool co-op, my kids are building a ferris wheel from K'nex. All by themselves. Rather, Corinne built the first half ALL by herself and Evan saw how awesome it looked and said "Can I help?" So now, they are building together without arguing and I am calling this physics/engineering/art/family-team-building time.

Good thing, because I am not in the mood to play referee this morning.

Melisa and I had our LTYM auditions this weekend. In the past 2 years, we suffered greatly from the emotional trauma that comes from hearing pieces that can be brutally painful. Part of the show's beauty, for us at least, is knowing that even though we cannot cast every person who auditions, each person was able to receive validation that their story IS worthy of being told and heard. Motherhood is "given a microphone" in those auditions and that is just as important to us as the actual cast and show itself. Still, it's rough on our hearts. Like, neither of us slept on Saturday night. She had anxiety and I had nightmares that woke me up, sobbing so badly that my stomach was sore the next day. Not the best way to get an ab workout, but I guess every situation has a silver lining.

That said, we KNEW the show this year. Like, it was presented to us and the discussions about each piece were nearly always unanimous on our emotional levels and their need to be in the show. We didn't question ourselves or our abilities to choose the right ones, even if we did need to place dozens and dozens of truly lovely essays into the "no" pile. The amount of time that each person placed in their preparation was SO evident and I cannot say enough how honored this makes us feel. Chicago is amazing. I hope LTYM continues for years and years and years so that we can showcase more of these amazing writers.

Sigh.

Daily life is calling. Laundry, dishes, showers, school... Also, I spoke too soon about the happy-happy family moment over a table full of K'nex. Melt downs are happening. The peace was lovely while it lasted.

A day in our homeschool...

Thought it would be fun to do a "typical day in the life of a homeschooler" on my own site. A blog I often enjoy called Simple Homeschool has a series that invites homeschooling parents to share their days. Since I doubt I'll be invited, I decided to just do it on my own blog. The difficult part about sharing a "typical day" is that no day is ever quite like the next! So how about we say that this is a description of a somewhat-typical Wednesday in February, and leave it at that. Of course, as I say that, I realize that I truly have no idea what today will actually hold in store for us, which is, actually, really freaking typical.

5:30 am. Alarm beeps. Normally, this is where my husband, Patrick, would wake up to go shake our eldest awake for high school. Justin was homeschooled from 4th through 8th grade and went back to public this year. It's been an adjustment for us all, with the biggest change being that Justin has to wake up at an ungodly hour. Seeing as how Patrick is ice fishing in Minnesota with his father this week, the wake up call duty fell upon my shoulders. I stumbled into his room, turned on the light, shook him and made sure he was alive before scurrying back into my heated blanket cocoon. I then remembered to check my emails before he left, just to be sure that the 4+ inches of snow that fell overnight wouldn't cancel school. It didn't and he left on his own steam without any further interaction from dear old mom. Ahhh... teenagers!

7:30 am. I headed downstairs to let the dog out and grab some coffee. Sure enough, the snow was in enormous drifts and my somewhat shortish dog had to plow through several of them to find the absolute perfect spot in which to pee. I spent a good 10 minutes watching as she would bound about, looking like an antelope instead of a scraggly terrier mix. Once she finally came inside, I had to clean the snow from her hair, TWICE, as she couldn't seem to remember to do #1 AND #2 in the same excursion.

By now, it's 8:30 and the younger two are still asleep. THANK GOD. I have to check a few emails and force myself to wash the massive pile of dishes that accumulated after yesterday. (Every Tuesday, we attend a co-op for homeschooling families. My kids have tons of friends there and do science, PE, literature and geography classes. My daughter then has a 3 hour gymnastics class in the evening and all of this means that we are not home for very long on Tuesdays. Add that to the fact that I haven't had a dishwasher in 10 years and you will understand why there are so many dishes awaiting my assistance on every Wednesday morning).

9:00 am. Ok, I lied. I didn't check emails. I screwed around on the shiny, shiny internet and now my 11 year old is awake and I still haven't washed a single dish. This day may actually end up being pretty darn typical, after all...

10:15 am. Just finished all but one very stubborn pan with baked on potatoes. Gonna let that soak while the kids finish up their screen time. I did manage to trick Evan into a little science lesson when I asked him to read this website on how to measure snowfall (because my hands were wet from the dishes!). I was mainly wondering how we measure the volume of the snow instead of the inches that have fallen. I mean, the big, fluffy flakes take up more space but have less mass as a group because of the air between the crystals, right? Isn't that right? A foot of teeny, tiny, hard flakes must have more water volume than a foot of fluff. IT MUST. I need to prove this theory...someday. Right now, I am just impressed that I haven't broken up a single argument yet. Not. ONE. It must be because I am documenting our day for all of you lovely readers. Going to start another load of laundry before the kids finish their time and start on school books....

10:39 am. I spoke too soon. 8 year old is crying because her brother isn't "being nice" in her opinion and I didn't even yell. I am quite proud of myself.

10:40 am. 11 year old has gathered his school books and is settling down to do independent study. 8 year old is up in her room crying and getting dressed. I am watching the snow start to fall...again...and having another cup of reheated coffee while I contemplate life.

10:56 am. 8 year old is quietly reading her social studies book about Omaha Native Americans. It should be noted that she is still in her zebra-print footie jammies and has a very disgruntled look about her face. She is clearly upset with her lot in life.

11:51 am. 11 year old did well until he realized he had to do a creative story for his literature class. He has now rebelled and is in his room until he can work without yelling or being unreasonable. Ah, pre-teens. Good times. In better news, daughter has made her way through spelling, math and social studies. We are going to read about Benjamin Franklin for a bit, finish a lesson in her science book and then review some flashcards on multiplication facts and the States. Right after she pours herself another bowl of cereal, that is... And it's still snowing.

1:07 pm. After much hysterics, 11 year old wrote what is actually a HILARIOUS remake of Little Red Riding Hood. I mean, I am cracking up over here! He has problems keeping his hands up with his mind, so I
typed while he dictated. This usually works well with him for essays and stories and encourages him in knowing that he IS creative and smart. On that note, I have to get out of these pajama pants myself so I can drive him to GameStop to pick up a video game with his Christmas gift card. Maybe if I put on tall boots and a long coat, no one will notice?

1:54 pm. Opted to just spray on extra perfume on and declare today a grungy day, especially since I had to shovel a crapload of snow before we could even get out of the driveway. Helps that husband won't be home and I have no where to go tonight! School work is all done and 11 yr old is happy about his new game, 8 year old is doing handstands in the hallway. I have some emails for my LTYM show to check on and dinner to start. I think it's gonna be a meatloaf and mashed potatoes night!

2:45 pm. 14 year old is home from high school. Came in covered in snow and eager to make a croque madame which is a French sandwich, apparently. (He's taking a cooking class and a French class as a Freshman). I told him to knock himself out. This should be interesting.

3:45 pm. Pretty good sandwiches. Tres bien.

4:30 pm. Picked up 8 yr old's friend from across town. They're playing a board game, teen is on computer, pre-teen is playing new video game and I am gearing up to go stick my hands into a bowl of raw meat. Yum. My feet are frozen, there is a MOUNTAIN of (clean) unfolded laundry on the floor and even more snow to shovel.

6:00 pm. Damn, I make a mean meatloaf. Even managed to have a 15 minute conversation with my 14 year old about a game he really enjoys! It's difficult to get him to interact a whole lot these days, and with him out of the house every day till 2:30, we don't see nearly as much of him as I was used to. It's an adjustment, to be sure.

7:48 pm. Friend is back at her house. Kids are all playing games or reading book. Need to make sure they all get showers before bed; for the younger ones, around 10:00 or so. No set wake up time means no set bedtime. We're pretty breezy about it and it works for us. Justin still has homework but he is pretty responsible about getting it finished without any intervention, so there are no worries on my end about him. I am getting some loose ends tied up for LTYM and then I am going to get under that heated blanket as early as I can. I notice that I never did get that pan with the potatoes washed but think that it will most likely hold just fine until tomorrow morning...

And there you go. A Wednesday in our homeschool life. Not perfect but pretty decent. No nature-stuff or field trips, but what do you expect in February in Illinois? I think tomorrow will include Corinne baking banana bread and Evan designing a chart for chores. Maybe we'll throw a little Freerice.com in as a charity/learning experience and I'd like to finally get them started on the KIDSdiscover.com site. Every day is different while similar and I find that we have a pretty good rhythm going on (most days). Can't wait for the snow to knock it off so we can get downtown to one of the free days at the Field Museum and maybe Brookfield Zoo, too. We're ready for spring!

Stream of Thought Thursday

Hey there.

How's things?

The days have flown by just as they have dragged. This "Polar Vortex" thing has certainly lived up to its name and caused some serious issues with my own space-time continuim. I've been wrapped up in the frigid cold with all 3 in the house (which also = "no school work" for the younger two. Have you ever tried teaching 2 kids while everyone else in the region is off of school? Yeah...no). I've literally been WRAPPED.UP. In blankets of both ordinary and electric varieties, extra socks and constantly reheated cups of coffee. I've been wrapped up in the details of finding the money for not one but TWO vehicles to get heaters repaired. And to top it all off, the emotional turmoil of reading the heartfelt words from hopeful submissions for the Listen To Your Mother Show has been a roller coaster.

I have compared the production of the show to pregnancy and childbirth before. It is never more similar than this year, our third year, when we are no longer first-timers or even just returning for a second go-around. With the third show, as with my third child, I knew ALL TOO WELL what I was getting into. I didn't have a fuzzy recollection of childbirth; it was CLEAR in my mind. There were no surprises with my third pregnancy-the pains, nausea, anxiety... I went into that pregnancy with my eyes wide open.

I think that this is why I feel so differently this year. I am JUST as excited and JUST as hopeful for the stories to be told. But I know, without a doubt, that for every squeal of joy over being chosen for auditions or the cast, there will be many more tears and feelings of rejection... And there's nothing I can do about that. No matter how we word it, telling someone they haven't been chosen is still a "No." It's still painful.

Maybe producers who cast shows all the time think we take it too personally. It's possible. Probable, actually. But I think it speaks of our integrity when we say that we honestly discuss each and every piece and what it means not only to the show, but also to the writer. We all just want to be heard. To be validated.

Sigh... There isn't enough coffee in the world to alleviate this pain in my head today. I am at least glad that I get to drive through the potential incoming blizzard to Wisconsin this weekend (with a working heater in my van! Woot! Woot!). Corinne has a gymnastics meet and we will be staying overnight to slide around in bathing suits. In February. In WISCONSIN. Makes perfect sense. But it will be a huge distraction for my mind. The upcoming month includes about 2.5 days of inactivity. You read that correctly. There are literally only two and a half days in February where I am not shuttling someone somewhere/working on the show/entertaining/etc. It is going to be so awesome.

Silver linings: My family is healthy. We finally have heated vehicles. I don't have to do the show alone (I love Melisa).90% of the incoming month's activities actually are enjoyable. For all of that and much more, I am grateful. And with that, I am off to teach and pack bags and find socks and be happy.

The day before.

Driving Evan to an activity today, I realized that tomorrow, it all starts to change.

Tomorrow is the day that submissions for Listen To Your Mother in Chicago are open.

Tomorrow is the day that our show begins to take a REAL shape... The day that our hearts will be drawn to new stories and local characters.

The thought takes my breath away.

This show really is about more than just a 90 minute gathering of writers. It's more than finding sponsors and selling tickets and securing the infinite details that I never knew about prior to being a part of LTYM. Melisa and I have had the honor of being trusted with submissions that, for most LTYM hopefuls, have never been publicly shared.

I am utterly baffled at how I have arrived at this location in my life, but completely and totally grateful. I cannot wait to read your submissions and I cannot wait to hear the auditions; to select our cast and witness as the show comes to life.

But I am quiet right now, on this Sunday afternoon, as I prepare myself for the heartache and hysteria that I know will soon appear in our inbox...

Listen To Your Mother News!

If she wasn't so darn kind-hearted and sweet, it'd be easy to get irked at her ability to multi-task and be prompt at everything she does. But she IS kind and sweet and generous and open-minded, so it's impossible to do anything but love my co-producer and friend, Melisa Wells; even though she beat me YET AGAIN to posting about the LTYM show.

It's ok. I'm used to it. And she doesn't think less of me that I have my own "time table" so we get along pretty well.

(photo credit Sabrina Persico)

In fact, we have a blast! (She's my platonic lobster!)

Speaking of the Listen To Your Mother Show, it's been officially announced that the 2014 show will be airing in 32 cities across the country! I am thrilled to continue to be involved in such a movement that celebrates motherhood. This will be the third year we host the show in Chicago! I cannot believe it. I guess I can actually own the title of "producer" eh?



Stay tuned for more information on the next year's show! If you've never seen any of the videos, now is the perfect time to pull up a chair and watch a few. You could start with the Chicago 2012 show or the Chicago 2013 show, if you want... ;)

It's official: I am on the Internet FOREVER now...

The videos for the Listen To Your Mother Show are all up! There are hundreds, HUNDREDS, of videos, as there are 24 cities this year, so I don't expect that you will watch them all. However, I sure DO hope that you take the time to watch a few, especially some from Chicago, and maybe even MINE!

Boy Mom

Listen To Your Mother Chicago was 10 days ago! I cannot believe it... Here is the written version of the piece I read on that amazing day. The video version will be on the LTYM You Tube channel sometime this summer and you can rest assured that I WILL LET YOU KNOW. Oh yes, I will.

Photo credit Sabrina Persico

"Boy Mom"

For me, the shock of giving birth for the first time involved more than just the all-encompassing pain and embarrassment of being on display for a room full of acne-ridden medical students.

Because I? 

Gave birth to a boy.

ME? A son?

Me? A mother of a…. boy?

The idea was absolutely foreign to me. Weren’t babies supposed to be…well… girls? Wasn’t I destined to bear only precious little female babies?

Wasn’t I supposed to have a houseful of pink and ruffles? Isn’t that what I’d always dreamed of? 

What I’d grown up with as the middle daughter out of 3 girls?

A… BOY?

Not surprisingly, this was the overall response of most of my family and friends that were in the waiting room on that frigid February day.

The reactions were something along the line of “Congratulations!!! Is Tracey ok? And the baby! How big? And… wait. Did you say a… a … BOY?”

Needless to say, I fell madly in love with that little guy; Immediately and overwhelmingly in love.

It was exactly like I’d read about, and exactly as I’d dreamed. The delivery room was overflowing with tears of joy and laughter and love and… well. You’ve probably seen “A Baby Story” at least once or twice, right? You get the idea.

But while I was totally in love with my baby son, I was ABSOLUTELY, Completely thrown for a loop by all of the blue hats and blue socks and blue overalls….

And more importantly, what does it mean to BE a mother to  a boy???

Somewhere around his 3^rd or 4^th week of life, I broke down on a phone call to my mother. Through snot and tears and that gaspy-chokey cry, I apologized to her for all of the times I’d been aloof as a teenager; for all of the indignant sighs and eye rolling I threw at her, when all she wanted was to spend more time with her baby.

I couldn’t imagine my precious infant turning away from me. I couldn’t imagine being treated the same way I’d treated her. She cried with me, and consoled me and reassured me that she understood then and understood now that I have always loved her.

She also threatened me with bodily harm if I ever made her cry while she was at work again.

The hormones abated and crisis averted, I hung up the phone and shakily stared at Justin’s sleeping face. I tried  to picture him at 13, at 18, at 25…

I envisioned him pulling away as a teen, graduating high school, moving away, getting married and having a family of his own.

I wondered; would he ever call me to talk about parenthood and life, the way I’d just called my own mother?

Would he treasure time with me, the way I treasure time with my own mom?

Do grown men do that with their mothers?

My own father’s mother passed away when he was very young. I never grew up in the witness of an adult mother/son relationship. I realized that I had a very real, very deep fear that I would become the classic “Mother In Law” and the butt of all jokes. I feared that one day, Justin’s future spouse would resent my very existence with degrading remarks about how intrusive I was to their relationship and their family and how I just couldn’t get a life of my own…

Once I ran out of tears over THAT scenario,  my mind turned to my own mother in law. I thought of how she treated her son, my husband, with love and respect. I pictured how he continues to share his life with her.

I thought  about how the two of them have always been so open with each other.

I thought back to one time, when Patrick and I were still newly dating; I found a package of condoms lying on his bed. I snatched them up and hissed that he shouldn’t leave them out like that! His MOM might see them!!

“I didn’t buy them,” he replied. 

He said that his mother must have left them on his bed, just in case.

I was MORTIFIED.

But for my husband? It was totally normal. That’s just the type of relationship they had.

That’s the type of relationship they continue to have.

Open. Loving. Trusting.

And able to talk to each other about anything…

Just like me and my mom…

And then I realized that she cared for me as not just a daughter-in-law, but as a daughter, and as an adult woman who is capable and intelligent. My choices aren’t always the same as hers, and our relationship didn’t have decades of history to build upon like mine with my own mom did, but my mother in law has never made me feel  anything but the same love and respect that my own mother has always showered upon me…

Looking down at my tiny son’s  face, through my tears and fears, I realized that I already HAD 2 fabulous examples of how I wanted to mother my son.

Suddenly, a life full of trucks and trains and dirt and camouflage and sticky little boy kisses was a dream come true…

I'm baaaa-aaaackkkk (almost)

Yeah. So, THIS happened:

 What's that? Oh, that's just Ann Imig on the Athenaeum stage being interviewed by Janet Shamlian of the Today show for a spot on the NBC Nightly News to air this Thursday night.

Yep. We had a little extra excitement added to the hub bub of the overall thrill of bringing Listen To Your Mother to the Chicago stage for the second time. But it didn't take away from the primary focus of the day which was the amazing cast of talented, courageous women....

 I am still in that decompression mode following the show, but cannot wait to start focusing on the house and the kids and this blog with a little more attention again. If you could see the layer of dust on my piano and bookshelves.... oy vey.

 It was worth it though. Every dust bunny and weed in the garden; every piece of dirty laundry and empty space on the blog. They were all worth the experience of bringing 16 other beautiful stories to the stage on Sunday.

 Melisa and I really felt like we had the whole rhythm down this year. Having a theater that was so attentive to detail and assistance made a world of difference, but the two of us also just kind of knew what to expect this time.

It's sort of like birthing the second child: it's not any less special, but you aren't shocked by the pain of the details. In fact, you can almost enjoy the experience a little more because you KNOW how quickly it will all be over.

 We treasured it. Love that lady; even if she DOES turn me into Monica for 2 weeks straight and steals my Phoebe shoes. I guess it's good for us both, to see how the other half lives...

If you missed the show (you must live out of town or have had an emergency, right?), don't fret. They'll all be on YouTube this summer!

You will truly enjoy sitting down with a glass of wine or cup of coffee and watching them all. I promise.

Me and my Momma

On that note, I am still in Chill-Out mode. It's a gorgeous day and the garden is crying from lack of attention. I just so happen to have a bunch of time on my hands, so off I go to dig and tie and get dirty.

All Photo credits by Sabrina Persico

Rawr!

L-R Top: Erin Skibinski, Samantha Schultz, Tracy Jensen, Tracey Becker, Shannan Younger, Robin Frisch, Sheila Quirke & Nadine Warner. Bottom: Lisa Noel,Sarah Zematis, Marianne Walsh, Jocelyn Geboy, Melisa Wells, Elizabeth Rago, RoiAnn Phillips, Shannon Duffy, and Liz Joynt Sandberg

Women are definitely not the fairer sex. We are fierce and fantastic warriors who have discovered that you don't always need a weapon that physically maims to make a difference.

WORDS.

Words my friends. They cause the brain to pause and consider. Words, when strung together in sentences and paragraphs and then formulated into entire essays with a direction behind them can soothe broken hearts and enlighten confused minds.

How blessed do I feel to be grouped with such a diversely talented collection of writers? How large does my heart feel to know that this moment in time will be one that I will look back upon someday with a swelling of pride and emotion?

I am overwhelmed and honored to be co-producing for a second year. It might seem silly, but to be able to put the title "co-producer" beside my name and actually OWN it is astonishing and amazing and... just... staggering.

See those ladies up there? They have been rehearsing and fine-tuning and fretting for months. They have invested so much of their time and lives into this show and we couldn't be more grateful for their efforts.

I hope you are able to experience this year's Listen To Your Mother show. I hope you are able to ride the emotional roller coaster that these women will take you on; it's going to be phenomenal!