Earlier this year, I felt so blessed to be cast in Listen to Your Mother—Chicago. I had the chance to submit one story, audition, and then eventually became part of this one-time only show that celebrates all things motherhood.

Below is my performance. A few days before the show, I was nervous and decided to get my jitters out by practicing for my son and daughter, who were having a rare quiet play session at their little activity table that we have in the kitchen. They rolled play dough, and I told them I’d be practicing my piece. They knew that I was in a show, but they didn’t know much else about it. I’m pretty sure they both thought I might be making an appearance on TV (as in, their ever-present request “Can we watch a show?”), but that it wasn’t anything they’d be particularly interested in so they’d be tuning into Wild Kratts instead. So I told them I was going to read it to them, and warned them that I was joking throughout. (When you watch the below video, you will see why this required a warning. And you may even wonder why I thought it would be appropriate to read it to them at all, and didn’t wonder if the reading of this to them would scar them for life. But for real, guys, they do all this stuff to me. So if they are scarred for life at me saying the truth of what they do back to them, it is their problem, right?)

It turned out, it didn’t require a warning. They heard the story, and they laughed and laughed—they were mainly laughing at all the potty talk, but that didn’t matter to me at the time. Their laughter made me brave. So a few days after, I took the stage, with only mild fear and trembling.

Without further ado, here I am reading Me and My Uterus:

A few notes. When I got to the part about the We-don’t-bite-our-toenails during my practice in front of the kids, my son interrupted and said with a smile, “I don’t do that anymore.” When I finished reading, Wally said his favorite part was when Vivvi says, “I have to pee” followed closely by “Did that sound come out of your face or your butt” and “they bother each other.” Vivvi just kept playing play dough and thinking she’d rather have watched a Wild Kratts than have listened to me practice.

You can read about what Listen to Your Mother is, and how the performance felt (leading up to it, before, and after) here.

Join Our Elist

Privacy Preference Center