If you remember back to my first post of the year, I wrote about how I wanted to put myself out there more – to take chances, to say yes.
And guess what? I followed through. I submitted my writing to Listen To Your Mother. After clicking send, I was filled with pride for sticking my neck out there. Yes, that was a good day.
A few days later I got the email that they wanted me to audition for the show. Another very good day.
Last weekend, I read my piece to Melisa and Tracey, the producers of the Listen To Your Mother Chicago show. I had practiced in the mirror everyday, but standing in front of these ladies, kind as their faces were, was different. On one hand, I wasn’t distracted by my age spots or runaway eyebrows. But on the other hand, I knew this one reading would determine if this thing I wanted more than I had realized, would be mine.
When I left the audition, I placed my odds at 50-50. Well you know how that goes. I read their posts on Facebook and the LTYM Chicago website about how talented everyone was and how hard it was to place such wonderful writers in the pile marked “No.” By Tuesday morning, I was down to 90-10, seeing only a glimmer of hope that I would make the cast.
I was coming in from emptying the vacuum canister into the trash (yes, my life is glamorous) when I checked my email for the thousandth time that day. I started jumping up and down as soon as I read it (thank God I had emptied my bladder before emptying the vacuum, am I right, ladies?). My kids, already home from school, knew immediately what all the jumping meant. Of course, they joined in, especially when I said that we would celebrate by ordering pizza instead of the having the fish I had thawed for dinner. Jump! Jump!
Later that night, while sitting across from my sixteen year old daughter, she looked at me and said, “I’m proud of you, Mom.”
I did this because I wanted to meet people, because I thought it would be fun, and because I love to write and share stories. But, I also did it for that, up there, what she just said.
My children have seen me do laundry. They’ve seen me cook dinner, help with homework, and volunteer in their schools. And all of those things have been important and have meant something. I know that that to be true. But those things are not all that I am. I want my children to see me (even if only on video) walk up on a stage and read words that I wrote, because that’s part of me, too.
I am incredibly excited to be part of 2013′s Listen To Your Mother. The show is on May 5 at the Athenaeum Theatre in Chicago. Tickets go on sale soon!