The Zipper

The Cast:

Cool Boy - Center of his own world, sporting the 'latest' look.

The Cousin - Visiting Cool Boy for the holiday weekend, cute but not as hip.

The Entourage - Three giggling girls, giddy with their proximity to Cool Boy.

The Crush - Dark haired, confident, not under Cool Boy's spell.

The Friend - Entourage wannabe, looking for an opening.

The Scene:

Fundraising Carnival at the Middle School.  Rides, midway games, cotton candy.  Teens and tweens in packs clutching ride tickets and the ever present cell phones.

The Play:

Picture five giggling teenagers, each one with multi colored braces on their teeth, in line for the carnivals most daring ride - The Zipper.  The Entourage are hustling to be closest to Cool Boy and impress him with their bravery.  No nerves for them - they have ridden The Zipper, like, a thousand times.  Does he want to ride with them?

Cool Boy is furiously texting, ignoring the parade of sycophancy. He is so used to it, he doesn't even hear it. He is single minded in his mission.

Suddenly from across the way comes The Friend.  Glowing, clutching her cell phone full of texts from Cool Boy.  She is full of confidence, she may not be in line to ride with him but she has what he wants. Behind her trails The Crush, who is shouting to her friend, she is no longer sure she wants to go through with the plan.

They reach the line.  Cool Boy turns The Cousin around by his shoulders, his cheeks are already blushing pink but he is committed.  He flashes his best smile and says "Hi."  Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, The Crush looks at him through her eyelashes, "Hi," she says.  The Entourage giggle but are no longer so confident.  The whole group is now quiet - awkward.

"So, we'll see you later?" says The Friend.   "Sure." says Cool Boy.

The Friend and The Crush slip away, back into the crowd.  The line moves forward.  The Cousin is less red now but has a steady grin on his face.  The Entourage fall silent.

A mom and her two little girls, move forward in their line, clutching a Goldfish.  The world turns.

The Piñata

This is not my first time at the rodeo.  I have done many birthdays.  I have learned that the bigger and more over the top the birthday - the less everyone, especially the birthday kid, enjoys it.  Too overwhelming.  Simple, sweet, small works best for us.  I am not a cranky, overworked host and the kid can just have fun.

With that in mind we planned the five year olds 'big' day.  Her birthday is on Cinco de Mayo and so the shops are always filled with vividly colored Mexican decorations at this time of year.  The five year old was very clear - she wanted only one thing for her birthday - a piñata.

Easy.

I decided to be authentic to we drove to our local Mexican neighborhood to shop at an authentic La Bodega.  Suspended from the roof of the store were many piñatas.  Elmo, Hello Kitty, Spongebob - they were all there.  I felt a little pride when my girl strode past them and pointed to a traditional burro piñata.  

"That one, can I have that one?" she asked sweetly.  

We pulled it down from it's hook and she carried it proudly to the register.   Fiesta (as she was now named) sat, held tightly, on the five year old's lap all the way home.  She was given pride of place in the five year old's bedroom, waiting for her big day.

When the day finally arrived, together we packed Fiesta full of treats and found the piñata rope and stick. We made cupcakes and iced them.  We packed them and some snacks for her little friends.  We dressed in our party finery and I started to load the car. I am pretty sure I was wearing a look of smug self satisfaction that said "I know just how to handle this kid party thing."  When I came back into the house I was met by the five year old sitting at the table with tears pouring down her face.   She was chewing her lip trying to hold the tears back but they rolled down anyway.

"I don't want Fiesta to get bashed open," she sobbed.  "I want to keep her, like a pet.  She's too precious."   

Screeeeech.  The brakes on the easy going birthday party are slammed on.

My sweet hearted girl cried for a full ten minutes, clutching her cardboard donkey. She stroked it's tissue paper skin and stared into it's sticker eyes.

I stood there, thinking about our waiting guests.  I offered to remove the treats and just hand them out leaving Fiesta intact.  I offered to get another Fiesta so she could have one to keep.  The tears rolled on.

I watched the clock tick relentlessly. 

"We need to decide what to do - we have to go sweets..."

Tears still pouring, she was immovable.  None of my presented solutions were appealing.  All she wanted to do was to sit at the table clutching her cardboard pal.  Any hint of smugness I had felt was long lost and instead I felt like rookie mom, with no idea of what to do.

"Let's take a photo of you and Fiesta for you to keep."  Her face brightened.  She wiped her tears and turned Fiesta to the camera.  Two pictures later she jumped down from the table and ran out to the car.

"Come on mama, we're late!"

Cut to one hour later when my big hearted girl was pounding Fiesta to a pulp with a big wooden stick.
A photograph, the difference between heartbreak and joy.  Who knew?

Parenting - the never ending lesson in trial, error and surprise redemption.

Mamalode Re-Launch

Have you seen the new Mamalode website?  It's swanky.
It's even easier to find some great posts and they change everyday so it's like reading ye olde newspaper of fabulousness.

Today I am featured in the Witching Hour slot.
Witching hour in this house is around 3pm so I'm guessing that's when you can read my piece.  Mamalode is likely to be on EST so have Google help you work that out for your time zone - or just take a chance and go there now!

While you are there submit something - I want to read your stories too.

Enter Stage Left

I like new experiences.  I will try (almost) anything once.  So when I was asked to stage manage this years San Francisco Listen To Your Mother Show - I jumped at the chance.  No matter that I have absolutely no experience as a stage manager.

If you were reading here last year - you will know that I was a cast member in 2012, reading The Letter.  It was a life highlight for so many reasons. Transformative in fact.
As I knew reading is pretty much a one shot deal, taking part in this year's show, in any way, was a good way of staying connected.

I didn't know any of this cast.  I met them as they arrived for the tech rehearsal.  Their giddy buzz was infectious.  Their camaraderie strong and endearing.  An hour in that green room will fill you up in so many ways.  LTYM is a genius idea.  Take a group of strangers, encourage them to tell their stories and see how it opens them up to community and sisterhood.  It takes an enormous amount of courage to be vulnerable.  Some of the stories are breathtaking in their bravery. You can watch hearts burst open. It's something you won't ever forget and a gift that keeps giving.
Then there's the audience - they too get to share an experience that is unique only to those in the room.  You see the recognition, the knowing, the connection.  You feel lucky to have been there - to be a part of something so magical.

In this disconnected culture we live in this kind of experience breathes life into us.  Sure it can be funny and entertaining - it's a great night out but it is something so much more.  It is a reminder that we all walk the same road and that on the way we hope for friends, support, laughter and a sense of belonging.

LTYM is playing 24 cities across the US this year - how many next year?
Audition or attend - take part - it will revive you, inspire you, excite you.  Who doesn't need some of that in their lives?

You will be able to see this year's performances on YouTube in a few weeks - I will post links.