Listen to your mother. Yes, you.

Sometime after Christmas break ended and before Valentine's Day -- it all runs together in my head these days -- I submitted a piece of writing to "Listen to Your Mother Indianapolis." LTYM is a national event taking place in almost two dozen cities. At each location, people -- mostly women, some men, mostly mothers, some sons and daughters -- will present live readings related to the topic of motherhood. As the LTYM people say, "giving Mother's Day a microphone."

Feeling the need to get back in touch with my funny bone, I submitted a variation on a previous blog post. It's amazing what you can do with something given a little time, distance, perspective, editing and minimum length of 4 spoken minutes.

Anyway, I got an audition. I expected the waiting area to be filled with the usual (and wonderful) fare of Indiana women bloggers, people I am quite familiar with. Surprisingly, I didn't know any of the women sitting there with me, though I did recognize the names of some people who'd been there earlier when I glanced at the sign-in list. Even more surprisingly, not every woman in the waiting room had a blog. You mean there are people out there, living their lives blogless? Shocking. But I digress.

The audition was pretty simple. Stand in front of the two directors and read my piece. One of them laughed. The other kind of smiled. And that was it. It took longer to drive to the audition than it did to actually audition.

Several days later, I received an e-mail welcoming me to the inaugural cast of "Listen to Your Mother Indianapolis."

I was happy. I am happy. But I am also panicked. I have a little more than two months to lose 700 pounds, get my hair (now in that awkward growing out phase) to behave itself, and find something to wear that does not look too matronly (ironically), too off-the-clearance-rack, too tight or too-oh-my-Gawd-mom-you-can't-possibly-wear-that. Too bad I gave away my fat dress; I'm probably too fat for it anyway.

Regardless of what I wear, it's going to be a great event. If you're local, treat yourself to a ticket and join us:

Listen to Your Mother Indianapolis
Thursday, May 2, 2013 at 7:00pm

at the Indiana Historical Society

Buy your tickets online. 10% of the proceeds will go to Partners in Housing.

If you're not in or near Indy, see if there is a LTYM show near you.

Double digits

Today is kind of a big deal at our house, not just because it is both Annie's and Robbie's birthdays. Not just because it's Annie's Sweet 16. Not just because today is Robbie's 10th birthday. But because,  as of 9:51pm tonight, all of my kids will be in double digits.

For some reason, this milestone has caused me to be a little weepy today. I'm not sad that they are getting older. That's what my job as their mom is, right? To raise them to be independent, contributing members of society. Rather, I'm a bit teary-eyed because I am so proud of who they are as people. And not just my birthday kids, but Charlie too.

Annie is funny and dutiful and caring. She is the one other kids turn to when they need an ear to vent to or a shoulder to cry on.

Charlie is my roll with the punches kind of kid. He doesn't know a stranger and is comfortable in almost any situation. He's my tough guy athlete with a sensitive soul.

Robbie. Oh, Robbie. Robbie is the one who keeps me up at night, who I worry about most of all, maybe because he is my baby. But he is goofy and resilient and shows me every day that there is more than one definition of success.

Way back when my life revolved around sippy cups and diaper bags, preschool Valentine parties and mother's day out, I could not have imagined this day of double digits. I'm glad for that. I'm sure my imaginings would have been far off base.

16. 13. 10. All of them, double digits. Thank you, God.

Not exactly...

I've been asked to help in the Special Religious Education class (SPRED) at our church. It's Sunday School for children who have autism, Down Syndrome and other special needs. Currently, the group is made up of 6-10 boys whose ages range from 6 to 17.

We spend a long time in gathering and quieting activities, helping each student choose an activity that will bring them to a calm disposition. Today, I did chalk drawings, looked at book of Biblical paintings and examined smooth rocks with one little boy who doesn't speak but who has a smile worth waiting for. 

After the calming activities, we gather in a prayer circle to listen to the message for the day. Sometimes it is a short story. Other times it is just a talk about a particular topic. The prayer circle concludes with one message that is passed from student to student to helper. 

Today's message was: "Jesus said, 'Find peace in Me.'" 

Ms. Kathy took the hands of one of our friends, smiled and said, "Find peace in Me." With a little coaxing, he turned to the helper next to him (Ms. Kristen) and said the same. Ms. Kristen turned to Adam, who was sitting next to me, looked him in the eye, smiled and said "Adam, 'Find peace in Me.'"

Adam turned to me, plopped his fists in my open, waiting hands and said, "Do you want a piece of me?"

I suppose, in some sense, that's what Jesus meant too.

The United Way got this one very wrong.

I was in the car tonight with the radio on as background noise. I heard a baby-like voice talking, so I turned the radio up in time to hear a commercial that said something like this:

"I cry because I can't talk. But if I could talk, I would tell you that at the daycare where you drop me off everyday, they put me in my seat and leave me alone all day. I would tell you that I'm not learning anything."

It was an ad for the United Way of Central Indiana's Child Care Answers service. And it made me angry.

Here's the TV version of the ad:



The radio version was more offensive, I think. There was no cute baby to distract me from really hearing the words.

The service is a good one (at least the idea is -- I've not actually used the service myself). It can help parents make informed decisions when choosing a child care provider for their precious charges. That's a good thing.

What is not a good thing is the United Way's decision to stick the knife in the collective gut of every working mom, to play on a parent's fears and guilt, instead of appealing to their desire to make the best choices for their children.

The United Way could have taken this path to getting the message out:

"We know that you want the best for your child. Our Child Care Answers service can help you determine what that is when it comes to choosing a child care provider."

If they wanted to use the voice of child, they could have had the same child in a vibrant care setting saying "Thanks Mom for using Child Care Answers."

The ad goes on to say that even if you are using vouchers to pay for child care, your kid deserves quality. What that says to me is that United Way knows their target audience includes economically-challenged families, likely single mothers, for whom the question to work or not work isn't about being able to afford a summer vacation or a new minivan, but who work to keep the lights on and food in the refrigerator. In my book, that makes sticking in the knife and turning up the fear and the guilt even worse.

I've been a supporter of the United Way every year for the past 7 (since I went back to work and began having my contributions deducted automatically from every paycheck). I believe the work they do in my community is important. But their misguided efforts in this ad campaign will make me think a little harder about how they go about doing their business and how much I want to support that.

I don't wanna

Today has been declared "family clean-up day." We are all going to descend on the basement and clean it out. Then, once that is done, it's on to the bedrooms. It needs to happen. It's gonna happen.

But I don't wanna.

There is nothing on the calendar from 11:30am on. Do you know how rare that is? (Well, if you're a parent of school age kids, you probably do.) There are no games, no plays, no birthday parties or sleepovers. So of course it's the perfect day for a much needed deep clean.

But I don't wanna.

Because it's also the perfect day for reading the book on my Nook that I am thoroughly enjoying, even though I can't remember the name of it. It's the perfect day for watching movies, tooling around on Facebook, writing a few blog posts.

In the basement there are Legos and video games out of control and Christmas stuff that is waiting, boxed up, to be put in the storage room. In the bedrooms, there are mountains of laundry -- probably not all of which is dirty. (You know how I feel about that.)  All those things need to be dealt with, I know.

But I don't wanna.

What I want to do is take a nap and thumb through catalogs and in general laze about the day.  I don't wanna be the grown up, cracking the whip and barking orders. I don't wanna be the foot soldier, carrying out those orders and hoisting bags of trash and Goodwill items. But I will. I will pull on my big girl panties and fix my eyes on the prize of a clean basement and bedrooms that do not threaten to do bodily harm via ill-placed piles of clothes. I will cheer on the troops and lead by example.

But I don't wanna.

Read this book with an open mind

I don't typically write book reviews -- and I don't plan to make it a habit. But there is a book I read recently that I want to tell you about, even if doing so might be a little risky. It's timely, though that is just a coincidence.

The book is Unplanned: The Dramatic True Story of a Former Planned Parenthood Leader's Eye-Opening Journey Across the Life Line by Abby Johnson. (Note: This is not an affiliate link.)

Now don't stop reading here. This is not going to be a preachy post.

Though I've never marched in a protest, prayed before an abortion clinic, or even read any other books on the subject, I am pro-life. I believe life begins at conception. I don't waver in my belief, but I am not outspoken about it, either. I don't have bumper stickers on my car and I don't place judgements on anyone who thinks differently.

So I'm not sure why I felt drawn to reading the book. I wasn't sure what to expect, but what I read was, in my opinion, a balanced and caring view of the people on both sides of the issue.

Why you should read Unplanned if you are pro-life
This book will not preach to the choir as much as you might expect it would. Living through Abby's experiences, I began to understand how someone might see their involvement in Planned Parenthood as a service. Abby describes some of her former co-workers -- and even her former self -- as being truly concerned about the women who came to them. For me, this book put a more human face on some of the people on the opposite side of the abortion fence.

Why you should read Unplanned if you are pro-choice
Part of the reason why I'm not terribly vocal about my views on the abortion issue is that I don't want to be characterized as a crazy zealot who hoists graphic pictures of dead babies. This book sheds light that stereotype, too.

Regardless of where you fall in your views on the abortion issue, this is a book worth reading. But please read it with an open mind, setting aside judgement to just try to understand why someone else might believe as they do. I'm not sure the book will sway you from whatever you believe when you first open the cover. But I do think it will make you think.

10 ways to defunkify your day

After some discussion on the 4th Frog Facebook page, it seems that several people had a case of the Mondays going on today, where they were just feeling in a funk.

Some days are like that, aren't they? I know I've been there. So I started thinking about what I do to defunkify my day. Here are some things that work for me:

1. Have a good cry. You know, one of those ugly cries like Meg Ryan had in "When Harry Met Sally" when Sally found out that her former boyfriend was getting married. Or an even uglier cry, like Julia Roberts had in Truvy's beauty salon in "Steel Magnolias."
   
2. Watch a favorite movie. It doesn't have to be a funny movie, necessarily. Just one that is so familiar to you, it feels like putting on a cozy sweater. For me, it's "The Holiday" or one of the two noted in #1.
   
3. Eat ice cream. Not the relatively healthy soft-serve stuff. I'm talking the Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby or Jerry Garcia.
   
4. Go for a walk/run/bike ride. I know, it's totally counter to #3, but the truth of the matter is, sometimes exchanging mass quantities of oxygen and carbon dioxide in my lungs makes the rest of me feel better, too.
   
5. Color. Pick up the crayons and a coloring book and color. Markers won't do it. Colored pencils, maybe. And it has to be a coloring book. Drawing my own pictures is too much pressure when I'm in a funk.
   
6. Phone a friend. It probably won't net you a million dollars, but it will likely help lift the funk.
   
7. Pump up the jams. (That's listen to music for those of you not quite as hip as me...insert totally embarrassed teenager here...) My choice to break out of a funk is either show tunes or praise & worship music. But if Florence & the Machine or Led Zeppelin work for you, go for it.
   
8. Treat yourself -- a mani/pedi, a trip to Target or the Hallmark store all by your lonesome, a new pair of shoes. Don't break the bank to do it, but if there is any way you can give yourself a little retail therapy, it can help.
   
9. Take a long hot bath or shower and wash the day away. Something about stepping out of the shower all clean and warm gives me a little lift.
   
10. Pray. I know, it should probably #1 on the list. I'm working on that. Pray. Out loud. Silently. With a friend. In a church. In your car. Memorized prayers. Whatever is on your heart. I can't promise it will work as instantly as ice cream, but it will probably stick with you longer. 

Oh, and if you've been in a funk for a while and none of the above seem to work, then please consider this last one:

11. Pop a pill. I'm not advocating illegal self-medication. Sometimes what we think might just be a funk is really true depression, which is not weakness. It's a real, medical condition that has real, medical options for treatment. After trying to white-knuckle my way through the past three months or so, I finally waved the white flag of sanity and am back to taking an antidepressant. It doesn't take away those things that were putting me in a never ending funk, but it does allow me to cope with them better. 

Is there something I missed that is a good way to break the fog of a funk? Please, share what works for you.