Ali Wentworth, Oprah and Motherhood

Here's my secret: I want Ali Wentworth to play the lead character in Michelle Obama:Taskmaster. She's so Beth. The first time I read the play out loud in my office last spring I immediately thought: Ali Wentworth - actress, comedian, mother of small kids, DC native and now Oprah regular.

A girl can am high, can't she?

I just think Ali Wentworth has exactly the right timing for this play. She can play funny, sad, pathetic, happy. That's what motherhood is, and that's Ali Wentworth.

I was watching Oprah yesterday and it seems Ali is now almost like a correspondent for Oprah. The segment yesterday was on women who need to overcome their fears. Three women were mothers, one wasn't. And...surprise, surprise...at the end of the show it was clear the only woman who seemed changed by the experience was the woman without children, who kept gushing how she now was finally going to put her oxygen mask on first before helping others. All I could think as I sat on my couch eating heavily salted, buttered popcorn was that it's going to take alot more than a day of roller derby skating, skydiving, and skinny dipping to get an exhausted mother out of her rut. I know Oprah doesn't know this, but I could see in Ali's eyes that she knows this is true.

Give these mothers a maid for 6 months, ongoing spa treatments, and daily naps and you might start to see them unwind a bit.

I want to see real change happen for mothers. How are we going to start feeling happier in our daily lives? I know it's not just a maid,(but that's a start!)it's more of an ongoing sisterhood that needs to happen. Mothers are so alone. Let's face it. Unless we live on a hippie commune we're really going it alone these days. And I think I-Phones, etc have made us even more alone because now we don't even pick up the phone anymore and talk. (I'm in a soccer carpool with 3 other moms and one called me the other day and I had no idea who she was).

Something's gotta give for moms.

Michelle seems to have a rhythm going, but is that real or are her backdrops just so perfect it looks to all of us exhausted moms that she's got her house together?

And now I'm wondering what about Ali's life...I'm sure motherhood isn't a piece of cake for her but she sure looks great and fearless on Oprah.

Okay, I'm groping for mother role models most days, leafing through People magazine, comparing motherhood. Julia's now making movies again in exotic locations like Bali...with twins and another little one somewhere about. Gwenthyn Paltrow has dropped out of movies but turns up on a show about driving through Europe eating decadent foods with a man who's not her husband and no kids in sight. Even Nicole Richie, former reality star and anorectic drug addict, is the perfect mother.

Honestly, I don't know what to think. Except that I still want Ali Wentworth to play Beth in my play!

Halloween

I’ve got two works for Halloween this year: It sucked.

Those are pretty strong words coming from me, a Halloween-lover who when the kids were 2 and 4 spent weeks looping thousands of multi-colored brown yard through four headbands so the whole family could dress up as a pride of lions(even my reserved British husband joined in on that one!) And then there was 2004 when my two boys (then 3 and 5) were British Beefeaters and I went as the Queen of England – red velvet dress, tiara and all.(pictured above)

I probably should have know this was going to be a horrible Halloween when my 8 year old son said he wanted to be the Barcelona soccer sensation Messi Lionel and I enthusiastically suggested I go as a female soccer star. He looked at me like I was the weirdest person alive. So I scratched the female soccer costume and decided this year I’d focus on the kids and their costumes.

I ordered both costumes (a Lionel Messi Barcelona shirt and shorts for Aden, and a Cad Bane costume – from Star Wars the Clone Wars – for my 10 year old Jacob) on October 3. I’m finally over making their costumes (ages 1-4) and the guilt of not making their costumes (ages 5-7), and this year I was determined not to do the last-minute sprint to the Halloween store to see what’s left on the rack. Get the costumes early, pray the kids don’t change their minds, and voila, happy Halloween.

October 10 the Cad Bane costume arrives. Jacob’s in this funny stage of being too small for adult costumes and too big for youth sizes so after a bit of Jewish stretching (“so what if there’s a little rip,” my grandmother used to say) Jacob fit into his costume. One down, one to go.

October 19. No Messi costume. My breathing deepens. I email the company, an obscure online company based (yes, BASED) in China. I get an email back that the item shipped 2 days ago and will take “10-20 days.” What?! This can’t be happening. Messi may not get here on time. How am I going to break this to Aden? I quickly surf the internet for other Messi options and I’m reminded that’s why I ordered the costume from a company based in China – they were the only complete Messi youth medium outfit I could find on the whole fucking internet.

I delay telling Aden for 3 days. If the costume arrives in 10 days it will make it for Halloween, I reason. My deadline to get the costume is October 31. Or at least that’s what I thought until we were walking home with Aden’s 8 year old soccer buddy the next day and he casually tells us that there is a Halloween parade at school on Thursday, October 29 which means I have 7 days.

I buy pizza that night and as Aden’s biting into his third piece I break the news.

“No Messi.”

“What???!!!!???”

“What about Beckham?” I propose.

Ten suspenseful seconds elapse.

“Only if it’s Beckham’s England uniform. Not LA Galaxy,” he says.

Okay, I tell him. How hard can it be to find a Beckham England outfit?

Well, that night as I surfed the internet I found out. The cheapest soccer Beckham England jersey I could find was $102.44. No way.

It takes me two more days to tell Aden, this time I tell him as he eats a bowl of ice cream.

“No Beckham England youth jerseys for under $100.”

“Did you try Ebay?” He responds.

“What 8 year old knows about Ebay?”

“Every 8 years old, mom.”

I try Ebay. The starting bid was several hundred.

“Still over $100,” I tell Aden.

“Oh no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“How about LA Galaxy?”

“Maybe.”

“Listen, Aden, you’ve got to make up your mind. I’m going nuts here. I’ve got to continue my life!”

“Okay, if Messi doesn’t arrived I’ll wear the LA Galaxy shirt.”

Back online that night I go to order the $39.99 Beckham LA Galaxy shirt from Amazon. I pay $16 for express shipping. But just before I’m about to click I see lettering in all capitals that reads:

THIS SHIRT TAKES 4-5 DAYS TO SHIP.

Fuck!!!! This can’t be happening. The Halloween parade is in 5 days. It won’t make it.

I walk downstairs to my husband and tell him I’ve had enough, I’m done, I can’t handle this pressure anymore. What should I do? My head floods. I dream of running away to Bali with the Eat, Pray, Love gal’s Brazilian hunky husband and frolic kid-free surrounded by spirituality and warm weather.

Luckily, my husband’s British which means he doesn’t dive into the depths much. He’s sensible.

Buy the LA Galaxy shirt.

The moment I clicked on the button I felt calmer. If it shows up I’m the best mother ever. If it doesn’t at least I tried.

Day before Halloween parade. Hubby’s now in Ethiopia, my period is one day late, and the LA Galaxy shirt hasn’t shown up. Oh, and I’m getting the stitches removed from my scalp that morning from a cyst the dermatologist removed 2 weeks ago. I break the news about the shirt to Aden.

“No Beckham,” I tell Aden as I’m driving him to school.

“WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Oh NOooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Oh yes.

“How about I wear a Barcelona jersey without Messi on it?” He suggests.

“I guess I could see if any shops near our house have one.”

I knew that was the wrong answer when I said it. How was I going to find a Barcelona jersey today?

Yep, after the stitches. That’s when I drove 30 minutes to Soccer American, shoving pieces of organic chicken into my mouth at every light, left overs from the night before. Just before getting out of the car I looked at my face in the rear view mirror and nearly scared myself – I looked like a crack addict. I quickly applied tinted Lancôme moisturizer everywhere just so I wouldn’t alarm the sales clerk.

I got the last Barcelona medium youth soccer jersey. Whew. It costs $60. (yes, I felt like either fainting or having a cigarette!).The shorts (not matching) were $30. No Messi on the back, but at this point I couldn’t care less.
Aden was elated.

“Messi! Messi! Messi!” he shouted when I handed him the jersey after school that day.
Even without Messi on the back he was proud to be wearing the Jersey from Messi’s team.

“And it’s just like the real Barcelona Jersey!”

It fucking better be for $60.

That night as I went to bed all I wanted was a box of cookies, yoga and a vodka.

Fast-forward to Halloween night. Tim’s still gone, but grandma was there which was a huge blessing. My mother really is a saint – she’d drive to Oklahoma in a tornado if I needed her. The Beckham shirt arrived that day so Aden was Beckham. Jacob decided he was only going to wear his hat because his costume was too small, which pissed me off but I decided arguing with a dyslexic 5th grader who has auditory processing issues on Halloween was a losing battle. I had spent $50 on candy at Target and the boys were excited that this year we finally lived in a place that would have trick or treaters come to our door. Everyone’s happy, I told myself.

And that’s when I remembered. We’re alone. Totally alone. No friends, no Tim, no Messi costume. Every previous Halloween we had had a wild time. Halloween parades, Indian buffets at our house, pin-the-tail on the witch games. We had hosted Halloween bashes at our house for the past three years. But last December we moved so this year we were in a new neighborhood, friendless, with $50 of candy in our house.

I suggested we go out trick or treating to take my mind off this. And that’s when the rain started. Just light rain, really, but with every tap of water I sank deeper.

Why are we here? I don’t want to live in this neighborhood. I liked where we lived in the woods; here we can’t even find a stick in this urban jungle. This place sucks. The people suck. Tim sucks for not being here. The candy sucks because I’ve been sugar-free for nearly 20 years so I can’t drown myself in it tonight. And the makers of that Messi costume suck because I ordered it on October 3rd and now it’s
October 31st and my 8 year old is wearing an LA Galaxy Jersey and they suck too.

I was about to snap out of it – the kids were really enjoying the trick or treating and we even found jovial neighbors who set up a spooky back-alley Halloween party - when I spotted them. First it was the husband of Aden’s soccer buddy, on his I-phone, standing on the corner. Then the other husband of Aden’s other soccer buddy dressed as a Star Wars character. And that’s when I knew it. The parents of Aden’s three soccer buddies, the three boys we’re in a carpool with two days a week to go to soccer practice, the only three kids Aden cares about, did not invite him to trick or treat with them.

My heart felt like a dagger had just entered. My son’s feelings are about to be hurt. I know this is part of life, but all I could think at that moment was: this sucks. We’re new to the neighborhood and the only deep connection our son has to anyone are those three boys and their parents didn’t think about calling him to go trick or treating.

I pray Aden doesn’t notice them. He acts like he doesn’t. One of the boy’s moms says hi, then another. One says, “Oh, we should have hooked up” …and I’m speechless. I feel like I just took LSD. Everything is slow motion. Where are my kids? Is my mother still with me? Was that Elvis just walking by or a kid pretending to be Elvis?

I just wanted to go home. Get away from these people.

Inconsiderate people.

Aden seemed to not feel bad. I won’t mention it. Maybe it’s just me, my hormones, my period. I’m nuts. Who cares about them. They can’t ruin our Halloween.

I laugh a lot for the next hour. Aden and my mom eat candy, Jacob hands out candy to more trick or treaters. The evening ends and as I put Aden to sleep he begins to cry. I crawl into his bed.

What’s the matter?

Nothing.

Are you sad?

Yes.

Why?

I don’t know why they didn’t include me.

My heart sinks.

Why?

Don’t blame your friends. It’s their parents. I know those boys like you.
Aden sobs.

I sob.

We embrace.

Why?

I don’t know why. Some parents are just like that.

Sob, sob.

I want to never associate with these people again, but I don’t tell Aden this.

I miss Daddy!!!!!!!!!!

I know, me too.

We blow our noses. The tissue box falls.

Mom?

Yes?

I really liked being Beckham tonight. Thank you.

We cuddle and in 5 minutes he’s asleep.

I then go downstairs and sob in my mother’s arms.

Maybe Halloween didn’t suck after all.

Stitches in my head, re-writing and sweet potatoes

In between preparing for a presentation and performance of my other play (BIRTH) at George Mason University last week and getting three stitches in my head this morning (the doctor gave me a teddy bear to hold because I was such a wimp!)... I feel the re-writes for Michelle Obama: Taskmaster beginning to take shape in my head.

Oh no! My Sweet potatoes are burning! Gotta go!

My inner cursing mommy

OMG...my mother - who I don't think has ever cut an article and sent it to me in the mail (especially since email where she now emails me every single joke coming out of Florida) - just sent me this hilarious piece in The New Yorker this week:

Easy Cocktails From The Cursing Mommy

I'm not one to curse much (wink, wink), but I had to share it!

A blog "review" of the play

The play's first "review"...

http://www.mamasmouth.com/2009_09_01_archive.html

Photos...and a few thank yous

There are always so many fabulous people that make a play happen. And at the top of my list is Cody Jones, my director extraordinaire. What a a woman. We just clicked and I adore her and I hope we bring this baby to Broadway!

And the cast really did an incredible job for a staged reading. Above is a photo of all of us before the show in the green room.

And I've just got to mention Suzanne Maloney (not pictured). She's the doctor to this baby. Thanks Suzanne!

And although she's not in a photo above...Donna Norton from Momsrising was super to come and speak with me on stage after the play. She really helped give the main character Beth's journey a context. Did you know the US is one of I think she said 4 countries that does not offer paid maternity leave for mothers? Don't like the sound of that? Me too! You better check out Momsrising right now! They rock.

Post Partum...

Oh my! Has it really been 10 days since the play had its reading at the Kennedy Center? And do I really have...post partum play depression?

Yep.

I kept thinking no matter how the reading goes after it's over I'm going to feel relief. Like, a hearty "Hallelujah!". I even had the photo planned for after the play with my Jewish mother, on the balcony of the Kennedy Center, looking triumphant, her looking so proud of me (like I just got my medical degree)...me feeling like a million bucks. But Instead - maybe not too surprisingly when I really think about it - after the play I felt like my laundry pile just got a whole lot bigger.

What the fuck was I thinking? I don't have time to write a play.

Our tuition lawsuit against the local school district is in high gear with lots of mudslinging and analytical thinking, neither of which is in my comfort zone; and I need a much heftier income than "playwright" if we lose our lawsuit with the school district; I've got dinner to plan and make; Jacob's dance schedule to figure out (Jazz on Monday conflicts with Aden's soccer and the dread locked twenty year old at the front desk in the Dance studio doesn't seem to know more than how to take my money - "it's not in my genre" she tells me every time I ask her a question beyond taking money); oh, and I have a million people to get back to for my other play BIRTH, not to mention a symposium I"m speaking at in October; and now...a new play. Exciting, exhilarating and exhausting. Mostly after the Kennedy Center I just felt exhausted. My hair had been falling out for a week before the performance and it still is today.

So I've been letting the whole experience sit for these past 10 days. Lay low.

And then Friday after a loud night out at a fabulous pizza place with good friends, with the encouragement of my girlfriend and her husband (who runs a nonprofit in DC but I think his calling might be LA Super agent), they convinced me that I have to keep working on the play. Rewrite. Get it out there. Inspire mothers to tell their mothering journeys. In invite Michelle Obama. Start a dialogue on motherhood.

That's when I started thinking: maybe...maybe.

It sounded good on Saturday. But that's when I thought - after an average of 25 emails a day for 2 weeks - our soccer carpool had finally been worked out. On Monday I found out one of the soccer moms fired her au pair so...I know any minute the soccer emails are going to start again. I can feel it in my pounding head. And then what? We lose our case with the school district and I have to go buy a cheap business suit, make some "real" money so Jacob can go to a school that meets his learning needs, and throw out my dream of getting this new play out there.

Oh, there I go again, I'm close to flushing myself down the toilet.

Complaining is so annoying. I actually did enjoy this week's drive with the 4 boys to soccer practice... until my cell phone rang with an urgent message from Tim just as we were passing a grave yard and Jack decided to scream out "GRAVE SITE!!!!!" at an octave beyond my ear drum capacity and then all 4 boys saw a police car and started screaming "POLICE!!!!!" at a level of sound that made 2 Advil a requirement after drop off.

I really do like mothering.

And that's my point. I like it and I want to write about it. I thought a comment someone made after the play was that on the play's poster the baskets filled with laundry also looked like cupcakes. This perfectly describes motherhood: the sweetness and the overflowing, never ending number of chores to do.

Sounds like it would make a good play.

Come see the play this Saturday!

Where are you going to be Saturday night? At the Kennedy Center, right?!

Michelle Obama: Taskmaster
A one-act play by Karen Brody

Saturday, September 5, 2009
9pm
Kennedy Center
Terrace Theater

Post-show discussion will follow with the playwright and Momsrising National Campaign Director Donna Norton!

For info from the Kennedy Center click HERE!

A Day in the Life of a Mother

I had so much fun Monday night at our rehearsal for the play. Here are a few pictures of us. (Guess who's Michelle Obama?!)

And here's a look at my day on Monday. (Sometimes I feel lately that I'm living my play. The frazzled mom searching for the perfect "other side" lost in my "to do" list!)

(WARNING: It's long!)

6.30am - Wake up

7am - make two healthy lunches for school

7.30am - say goodbye to Jacob who gets on the bus for school

7.30am- Work on computer answering 8 emails about Aden's soccer carpool

7.45am - call soccer mom telling her our practice site for today is no longer Carter Baron, it's at Jellef so I cannot take her son who's practicing at Jellef.

8am - Eat bowl of oatmeal while untying the quadruple knot in Aden's shoes.

8.15am - put Aden's filthy sneakers in the washing machine

8.30am - drive Aden to school

8.45am - Mail 10 copies of my other play, BIRTH, to performance location in Atlanta

9am - Answer more carpooling emails

9.30am - Answer BIRTH play emails

10am - Get a call from DC Public schools about Jacob's special needs. Explain to the Special Needs Coordinator that I should not be talking to her because we're having a resolution meeting with the DC Public Schools on Wednesday since the DC Public Schools never responded to our request to have Jacob placed in their system so we had to hire a lawyer for $10,000 that we don't have (what recourse do poor people have?)

10.30am - Call our lawyer to explain I may have said too much to the Special Needs Coordinator, but I don't know, and I don't really care about anyone but my son but I have to know and I have to care because if I don't then he'll get lost in the system, which is basically what has happened.

11am - Go back to work on MICHELLE OBAMA: TASKMASTER play, answering emails about Kennedy Center details.

11.05am - Receive an email about Jacob from the DC Public Schools calling him "James Brady" and giving him a birth date that would make him twelve. Email lawyer to ask if this is a problem.

11.30am - Work on play again.

11.35am - Soccer Carpool emails start again. Aden's friend who was going to Carton Baron for practice is now at Jeleff so I will take him too with me when I pick the boys up for practice this afternoon.

Noon - Work on play (for one whole hour!)

1pm - Shove down lunch

1.15pm - Call Special Needs Coordinator back telling her I can't meet her informally about Jacob's case until the DC Public Schools acknowledges the papers that we filed on January 7 to have the DC Public Schools tell us what services they can offer Jacob.

1.30pm - Print 8 copies of script for rehearsals tonight.

2pm - Go back to work on play. Endless Kennedy Center emails on lighting spec, where to enter on Saturday, who's doing what, when, how....

2.30pm - Urgently deal with audience-led reading of my play BIRTH in October at a conference and how audience is going to get copies of the script when the the conference has no budget for photocopying.

2.45pm - Get ready to pick up Aden and his friend for soccer. Provide snack, water, and various bells and whistles

3pm - Leave to get Aden

3.15pm - Pick up Aden, but not his friend who his mother has just discovered that he's now not practicing at Jellef where Aden is.

3.20-3.40pm - Aden eats snack while we wait for Jacob's bus. Aden informs me he's not going to college, but will be a professional soccer player when he grows up.

3.40pm - Jacob gets off bus. Walk home with Jacob and Aden who tell me I'm the best mommy in the world...and by the way did I "bring the chocolate chip cookies for a snack?"

3.50pm - Get home and receive book from Paris with pages about my play BIRTH. I can't read any of it because I don't know French but the photos are fabulous and make me smile. The French really understand layout!

3.55pm - Listen to the message on machine from Special Needs Coordinator telling me she wants to schedule an official meeting to talk about Jacob's case. I scribble a note to call her back.

4pm - Aden's other soccer friend is dropped off by au pair so I can take them to practice

4.10pm - leave to pick up 2 more boys and take all 4 boys to soccer practice.

4.15-4.40pm - Listen to four 8 year old boys in the car debate the pros and cons of what to do when you bash your head open - should you get stitches or staples in your head? Consesus was staples sounds worse, but feel better(Jack got 17 stitches).

4.45pm - drive back home.

4.58pm - Get another message from Special Need Coordinator who says we haven't filled out forms for Jacob to be a "non attending student" so I need to do that tomorrow morning. (Yeah, right.)

5pm - Discover I haven't punched holes in the scripts for rehearsal tonight and I have 11 copies of the script and only need 8.

5.15pm - Tim arrives home and punches holes in script.

5.20pm - I run to Home Depot to get binders for scripts. Home Depot is a 3 minute drive on Google Maps. It takes me 20 minutes with parking.

5.40pm - discover I forgot to buy snacks for actors so stop at supermarket. Person in front of me on line decides she needs egg whites and cashier takes her on a 10 minute trip around the store looking for egg whites while I continue to stand on line, wondering if I should start reading People Magazine or violently attack cashier when he returns. Instead I call Tim to tell him to fix me dinner that I'll have to eat in the car on the way to rehearsals at 7pm.

6pm - Return home, tell Tim I will divorce him unless he helps me get out of the house. Promise Jacob I'll play with him next week (or year), once the play is over, then go to the bathroom to pee because I haven't all day.

6.20pm - Drive to rehearsal. Sing "Breathing in, Breathing out" from my mindfulness meditation class...and curse at every asshole who cuts me off.

6.50pm - arrive 10 minutes early for rehearsal and look for parking. No fucking parking anywhere. I wonder if I can just abandon the car, but then, in the distance I spot a parking space by a meter so I take it knowing I have at least 2 dollars in quarters...but the meter costs 25 cents for 8 (yes, eight!) minutes. I need an hour and half's worth of quarters.

7.10pm - Ten minutes late for rehearsal. I call director to tell her I've got to go look for quarters. I will kill for quarters. Nobody on the street has one fucking quarter. So I enter Safeway and, pick up a banana and with one person in front of me on line I expect to be out in minutes.

7.20pm - College student in front of me finally figures out how to pay for a loaf of bread with her debit card and then I pay for my banana, get my quarters and go (to the nearest bar!)

7.25pm - Walk to rehearsals with 8 eighty page scripts, 10 pounds of fruit and two boxes of cookies.

7.30pm - Arrive at rehearsals. How was my day?, they ask. GREAT!

12.30am - Go to bed.

12.35am - Aden comes into bed telling me he dreamed a three-headed monster was attacking him on the soccer field.

12.40pm - Let Aden spend 20 minutes in our bed.

1am - Put Aden back into his bed.

1.30am - Fall asleep!

Momsrising Will Be at Post-Show Discussion!

Fabulous news! Momsrising Senior Campaign Director Donna Norton will be attending the play on September 5 and speaking afterward at the post-show discussion. So you must come to the show, not just to see the play (which I hope makes you think deeply and laugh at the same time), but also to talk about important mommy issues!

Momsrising is the premiere motherhood movement in the United States, working hard to make sure moms' views are represented in the laws that get passed. Click here immediately to find out more info on this organization that ROCKS!

Taskmaster? Michelle Obama?

Where did I get the idea for this play? Well, I was sitting in my living room one night folding (endless) laundry on a cold winter's night flipping channels because despite hundreds of channels, you know, they're nothing to watch. I normally don't leave it on CNN...only if it's Campbell Brown because she rocks my world and I'm not sure why (maybe it's my Type A rising persona)...but that night when I flipped to CNN Michelle Obama was being interviewed by CNN Correspondent Suzanne Malveaux. I was intrigued. Michelle Obama has, from the very beginning of the Obama campaigned, piqued my curiosity. A career mother with a busy life, busy husband, two kids nearly the same age as mine and somehow not only looks (because many political wives look put together) but acts like she's made it to a place where I want to be. Basically:

I want what she's got.

Not the White House, not the staff (well, I wouldn't refuse the staff), not the gorgeous children (mine are pretty darn sparkly too, at least to me), but I was more intrigued by just about everything that came out of her mouth. It felt much deeper than any other political mother I had ever heard speak. And in this interview that cold night while folding laundry I heard the newscaster say to Michelle:

"I hear at home you're the Taskmaster."

And the Bitch in me thought: Whoa! "Taskmaster?!" What a negative, slutty word for what mothers do. It conjured up images of me being the Bad Guy while my husband, who takes less of a role in running the household was the "bread earner" not the guy who doesn't know my kids' shoe sizes and hasn't a clue if we got their teachers end of the year gifts. Taskmaster gave me charge through my entire body. But, interestingly, it didn't seem to piss Michelle off in the same way. I was curious. I wanted 5 minutes with Michelle Obama to ask her why she wasn't triggered by that word. But although the Obama's have opened up the White House for many I knew Michelle probably had better things to do than sit on her couch and talk to me about motherhood.

So I decided to write about it. A short piece on motherhood so there's lots of time for discussion afterward because us mother's have to talk, right?!

Here's a summary of the play:

Beth, a 45 year old Ivy League educated Jewish woman, is trapped in her life as a working-from-home mother of three boys. What is it going to take for her to get out of a frazzled state and make it to “the other side?” Help from her kvetching Jewish mother? Gloria Steinem? Or perhaps a visit from Michelle Obama?

That's right. This play is giving you - and me - our five minutes with Michelle Obama. It felt good to write it. It felt right. I hope I've captured Michelle's point and the play sparks mothers to talk about motherhood and get involved in mothering issues.

Okay, now I'm off to get my youngest son to his playdate and then drive an hour to my older son's dance performance tonight. My husband (who's on vacation) and mother are both helping me this week so it all feels a bit effortless compared to my normal life.

Motherhood really rocks...except when it doesn't.

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Details on Seeing Michelle Obama: Taskmaster

What’s a “work-in-progress?” Well, it means I’ll probably change it a gazillion times after you see it at The Kennedy Center and in two years time I’ll finally believe it’s finished – no more rewrites – and promise my husband – No More Rewrites - and then suddenly while waiting in traffic in my minivan, my two boys into another argument about whose turn it is to play the Wii, I will decide: it’s not finished yet. But at least you can say you saw the play first – in the raw.

What’s a staged reading? This means actors will sit on the stage and read the play. No sets, no costumes, no frills. But really great acting and surprisingly entertaining.

Who’s Women’s Work Writers Group? Right now we’re five fabulous women playwrights in DC who decided to band together to get our work out there. We don’t grovel to Artistic Directors to produce our work, but we have been known to wine and dine a few super-terrific Artistic Directors in the DC area. We’re producing two theater pieces on September 5 – mine at 9pm, and a wonderful new play by Shelley Gillon ““Crawling from the Ashes of September 11,” a touching piece based on a sister’s memoir of her brother’s death in one of the planes that crashed on September 11.

What’s a One Act Play? Quick answer: it’s short and sweet. The play will probably be over in thirty minutes. But wait! I need you to stay for the post-show discussion. That’s where you’ll give me feedback on what you liked/disliked about the play (don’t worry, I will be heavily sedated on Advil so I can take it!). We’ll also have what I expect to be a lively discussion on motherhood. Unless no one has anything to say about motherhood, which if that’s the case I better know now before I start spending the midnight hour sending out a few thousand emails to theaters across the country to produce this play.

What’s free? Oh wait, I think you know what that means! As my Jewish grandmother would say: How can you not go to something that’s free?

Here are the details on the performance for those poster-challenged people:

Michelle Obama: Taskmaster by Karen Brody

The Kennedy Center Page-to-Stage Festival

Saturday, September 5, 2009

9pm

Terrace Theater

It’s FREE! (so no excuses!)

For more information direct from The Kennedy Center click here.

Time to Push this Baby Out!

Greetings to all you Beautiful Moms!... and “friends” of moms (husbands, grandparents or anyone considering going to a play about motherhood!)

I wrote this One Act from my heart meaning: I had to write it. Even with the dishes, laundry and assorted other “tasks” that seem to control my life many days I had no choice. Like giving birth without drugs, when the baby’s coming it knows and you know even if you don’t think you know a thing about pushing a baby out or you’re too scared to push. My due date is now.

I’m inviting you on the Taskmaster journey with me. Post your comments on this blog about any mothering issues on your mind, but especially how work/life balance issues. And come see the play on September 5! Mothers deserve a night out, right?!

xo

Taskmaster Karen