Almost 13

It feels like the remarkable young lady standing beside me in this picture was a tiny, jaundiced, squalling infant just yesterday. How is it possible that she is now almost 13?!?

Annual Mothers Day Post

Mother's Day is my favorite day of the year.

I take great pride in being a mother, and great joy in a day dedicated to celebrating that role - not only for myself, but for others as well. For a girl born on Christmas, it is still a rather new experience to have a day that's all about me. And yeah. I know that sounds selfish. It is selfish. And that's okay. It's okay to be selfish once in awhile, to crave and need a day/hour/moment where the focus is on you. Everyone deserves that, at least once a year, don't you think? I do...and when it's my turn, believe you me - I revel in it.

Not that Mother's Day is all about me. I not only am a mother, I have one too - a pretty brilliant one at that...a truly selfless woman that I love and appreciate more than I can ever show. I have a beautiful plethora of other mothers in my life as well - mother-in-law, sister, aunts, cousins, friends - that inspire me every day. And I see the joy in my daughters' eyes on Mother's Day, the excitement they feel at having an excuse to share their feelings and spoil me a little. Of course, we don't only share our feelings on Mother's Day. But the ritual of it all is nice, as it is for any other holiday - having that annual reminder to tell the mothers in your life that matter to you...well, that they matter to you.

For all of these reasons, Mother's Day is my favorite day of the year. But I recognize, probably now more than ever, that a day that means so much to me can mean something very different to other people.

People who have lost their mothers. People who have lost a child. People who grew up without a mother. People who have complex relationships with their mothers, and/or with their children. People who are not mothers, and desperately want to be. Even people who are not mothers, and choose not to be.

I see you all. I don't pretend to know what your experience feels like. But I see it, I respect it, and to all those that associate Mother's Day with pain or loss, my heart aches for you.

Please know that my joy in this day is not in any way meant to cause you pain, even though I realize that it still might. It is simply my truth. For those who feel alone or sad on this day, or any day, I truly wish you warmth and peace. That feels woefully inadequate, yet it is all I have to offer.

And now...my way to honor the tremendous effort my family puts into making Mother's Day so special for me. Some treasures from my favorite day, courtesy of my favorite people in the world.

The day actually started off the night before, when I came home late from my show to a completely clean house. They even mopped! They were three busy bees while mama was at the theater. Then I woke up to beautiful tulips, and a few surprises.

Emma made me a double layer red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, baked and decorated all by herself.

Sophie had several homemade gifts for me, but this was my favorite.

The biggest surprise was waking up to an egg hunt! Chris and the girls each wrote specific things that they loved about me on little pieces of paper, and then folded the notes into emoji eggs that they hid all around the house for me to find. Best. Gift. Ever.

I like nature. Who woulda thunk it?

We just got back from a glorious getaway with my mom, dad, sisters, niece, nephew and brother-in-law. Eleven of us total, bunking together for the week in a cozy cabin in the Smoky Mountains. (And we did not kill each other. Like, NOT EVEN A LITTLE. We totally got this family vacation thing down COLD.)

From the moment we arrived, Gatlinburg basically stole my heart.

I don't consider myself a nature girl. Camping has always struck me as a pretty miserable way to voluntarily spend your time. (Good gravy, we are not cavemen anymore - SLEEP IN A BED.) I enjoy sunshine on my face as much as the next person, but I've never been one for being outside every minute of the day. I tend to screech - loudly - at the first sign of insects or wildlife. But as soon as I spied those mountains, I fell in love. The views were truly (and literally) breathtaking, and all I wanted was more more more.

We checked out a lot of the touristy things that Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge had to offer. Each were fun in their own way, and the kids had a great time. But most of the excursions were super expensive, and some weren't really of particular interest to me. My favorite parts of the trip were hiking, climbing, exploring. Running my hands through the pure, clear water of the falls. Crouching on a rock and listening to the babbling brooks. Stopping at a lookout and taking in the vast green all around. Floating down the rapids and marveling at the river's beauty and power. Sitting on our cabin's porch and watching the sun set over the treetops. I couldn't get enough, and I'm already dreaming of the day we can return.

It was a special week in one of the most gorgeous places I've ever seen, surrounded by all the people who mean the most to me. What more can one ask for?

Tennessee, we already miss you.

White water rafting on the Pigeon River. My first time. Absolutely exhilarating.

Yeah, we did Dollywood. An exhausting and ridiculously (over)expensive day, in my opinion. But the kids had fun.

My babies.

Our attempt at a selfie. Let's just say I am definitely not a Kardashian!

Sophie and Chris at the NASCAR Speed Park, getting their go cart on.

With the Smoky Mountains in the background. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

On our hike to Grotto Falls, the kids and I went ahead. I had such a blast with them, feeding off their energy. (1.6 miles uphill over rocks and tree roots and boulders is no joke. My thighs were like, "WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?")

We almost broke our necks getting in place for this shot. (Okay, maybe just me. Young people and their damn BALANCE and FEARLESSNESS. Those rocks were slippery, give me a break.)

Yep...that's Sophie and Cadin back there!

Family photo, with a little waterfall in the background. Gatlinburg's like, "No big whoop. I have hundreds where that came from."

My mom, god bless her. She made it almost halfway up the mountain through pretty tough terrain before calling it quits. She sat and waited for us, content to chat with other hikers and take in the peace around her while we soldiered on. Never once complained. What a trooper.

Me and my love.

These girls sure do love their Aunt Jayme.

Group photo after reaching Laurel Falls. About 3 minutes after this shot was taken, we were hit by a thunderstorm and buckets of cold, hard, unrelenting rain. The path down the mountain was narrow, with nothing on your right but a steep and dangerous drop. It was a slippery trek. I was a nervous wreck, my poor nephew was terrified, and we were all soaked through. However, not all of us were daunted. Emma's first words after reaching the bottom? "That was so much fun!"

Hanging at the aquarium with this guy. None of us could take our eyes off of him.

These sharks seemed just a little too interested in my baby.

Emma and Sophie, literally inside the penguin exhibit. The Gatlinburg Aquarium kinda rocks.

These awesome and gorgeous women just happen to be my sisters. I dig them.

The girls in the original Love Bug. 

Obligatory group photo!

 

Happy New Year

We spent our New Year's Eve with the Thompson family this year. I hope you were able to ring in the new year similarly, surrounded by dear friends and loved ones.

The midnight money shot. Gus peace'd out several hours earlier, completely unimpressed with the whole "ring in the New Year" thing.

Overall, 2014 was very kind to me and my family. There were a few bumps in the road, but we have our health and each other, and that's truly all I can ever ask for.

Looking into my crystal ball, I foresee the next year as one of change. I say bring it, 2015...we're ready for you. (I think.)

Happy New Year to you all! May 2015 treat you well.

Sophie's Letter to the Tooth Fairy

Sophie lost a tooth yesterday. Here's the note she put under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy to find. IF THIS ISN'T THE CUTEST THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN, THEN YOU HAVE NO SOUL. Pretty cute, huh? It's the picture of the tooth itself that kills me.

Translation: "Dear Tooth Fairy, I accidentally swallowed my tooth. So if you don't find my tooth I swallowed it on accident but you can still give me money or a toy. Love your friend Sophie Mathews.

THIS is how you rock a photo booth, people.

Keep Dreamin'

My dream job came to an end today.

I was cast back in February as an understudy at Steppenwolf Theatre, for their world premiere production of The Qualms. (If you click the link, watch the Look Inside video to get an idea of what the play is about.) I started in June, and today was the 68th and final performance of the run.

It has been an amazing experience.

Steppenwolf has been my dream place to work for almost 20 years. I saw Steppenwolf's production of Buried Child while in college, and it literally changed the trajectory of my life. (Sam Shepard. Gary Sinise. Ethan Hawke. Lois Smith. AMAZING.) Up until that point, I'd planned to move to New York City after graduation. It never occurred to me to live anywhere else. I had always assumed that if you wanted to be a serious theater actor, then NYC was where you went. But after seeing Buried Child, I knew that I wanted to do that kind of theatre with those kinds of artists. Chicago - and, by extension, Steppenwolf - became my new dream.

I've lived in Chicago for 16 years now, and of course, I discovered long ago that there are so many outstanding theater companies here. And most of them aren't in the theater district. If you ever come to Chicago and are looking for a show to see, email me and I'll give you recommendations. There is much more to Chicago theater than the huge venues downtown. As Mr. Tracy Letts said in his Tony acceptance speech for Best Actor last year (CLICK AND WATCH THE BRILLIANCE OF THIS SPEECH that never fails to make me cry), there are storefront theaters all over Chicago filled with actors who "say it to their faces," and I am proud to be one of them. Tourists are often drawn to the big Broadway touring shows playing in the heart of the Loop, and don't get me wrong - I enjoy those shows as much as anyone. But they are not Chicago theater. Even a lot of Chicago residents miss out on the heart and grit and tremendous talent that forms the backbone of theater in this city, simply because they don't know where to look. (If interested in learning more about the vast array of theater choices in Chicago, the League of Chicago Theatres website is a great place to start. And yes, I'm aware that I sound like an infomercial.)

I am a fan of many theaters in Chicago, of all sizes, and have an ever-growing list of all the places at which I would love to work someday. But for me, Steppenwolf has always been my ultimate "if I could only work there" place. During our first years in Chicago, even when Chris and I struggled to make rent and couldn't afford health insurance and often survived solely on Campbell's chicken noodle soup (or rather, I did...Chris ate baby food from his Nonnie, which is a story for another day), we always splurged on season subscriptions to Steppenwolf. I've seen so many memorable productions there over the years...shows that I loved and a few that I loathed, but every one of them a visceral experience that made me feel something. Each year, my esteem for Steppenwolf - and my dream to work with them one day - only grew.

In case you were wondering why in the hell it took me 16 years to realize my dream...a bit of background. (Throw in my recurring hang ups and indecision and crippling battles with myself over whether or not to even be an actor, and you'll have filled in the blanks.) At a theater like Steppenwolf, you need to be invited to audition. They rarely, if ever, have open calls. (Actually, this is how quite a lot of theater companies in Chicago work.) You can submit your headshot and resume to them, but that does not mean that they will call you in. I was invited to their general auditions for the first and only time eight years ago. I don't do well at general auditions. I am much, much better at auditioning with sides. For some reason, I'm hit-or-miss when it comes to monologue auditions. I did not adequately prepare, and the audition was definitely one of my misses. I left feeling that I'd just blown a rare and important opportunity. Turns out, I had. I never heard from them again, and I carried that frustration with me for a very long time.

Then, a few months ago, a friend got an invite from Steppenwolf's casting director to audition for an understudy role in The Qualms. She accepted. But she also did an incredibly selfless thing - she forwarded the invite to me as well. She had read the play and thought I fit the role perfectly. She encouraged me to email them and ask if I could come in and audition too. I did. They said yes. This time, they wanted me to do a side from the play. (Yay!) I prepared, prepared, prepared, prepared. I auditioned. I got the job.

I would have never known about the audition had my friend not told me, and perhaps if I had not auditioned, she would have gotten the role instead. She had to have known that that was a possibility, yet she told me about the audition anyway. She championed me throughout the process, and sincerely congratulated me when I got the job. I am grateful to my friend for so many things - this is just one more act of generosity to add to a long, long list. But it's quite a whopper, wouldn't you agree?

After I accepted the job, I began to panic. I've never understudied before. In fact, I've avoided doing so for years. It always sounded like a pretty thankless job to me (sort of true) and a lot of hard work (definitely true). But I always told myself that if one of the big theater companies asked me - those companies in my head that comprise my Big 5 - I would do it in a heartbeat. And I did. But I didn't know what to expect, and lack of knowledge always makes me anxious. Hence, the panic.

Luckily, Steppenwolf just happens to know what the hell they are doing. The tremendously talented stage management team walked us through everything we needed to know and made sure we were thoroughly prepared. My emotions ran the gamut from complete terror to utter confidence at the mere thought of going on, depending on how far we were into the rehearsal process. But even when I was frightened as hell, I secretly desperately hoped I would get to go on. For a long time, I even felt this inexplicable certainty that at some point I would get to go on. And...I never did. It's my one disappointment. Some of my fellow understudies went on, and while I was genuinely thrilled for them, it was also kinda hard to watch. We all worked so hard, and were so ready, and I wish each of us could have had that experience, just once. In case you think I'm completely delusional...I KNOW that's the nature of the job when you are an understudy; you need to be prepared and ready at any time for a contingency that most likely will never happen. My brain knew that the theater had never guaranteed me a performance, and the odds that I'd actually get to perform were slim. My heart just refused to believe it. Also, I was pretty naive. In my ignorance, I figured that since the theater put so many resources into hiring talented understudies and making sure they were thoroughly prepared, the policy for cast members missing a show would be rather lax. In fact, I stupidly thought that understudies would step in if the actors were tired, or had a wedding, or travel plans, or just wanted a damn break for one night. I mean...we were there and we were ready. Wasn't that what we were there for? Boy, was I wrong. Stage management made it clear that understudies were there in case of an emergency only, and the fervent hope was that we were never needed. From my perspective, that was disappointing to learn. But seeing it through the eyes of the theater, I understood.

Despite not going on, I still had a great time and learned so much. I was in the room with a Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award winning playwright and a Tony Award winning director. I got to sit there, like a teeny tiny awestruck fly on the wall, and watch them work. I don't think either of them would recognize me if they passed me on the street, but their faces and voices are etched in my memory. The unique opportunity to watch a world premiere come to life in such talented hands was unquantifiable. I also got to watch some of the best actors in Chicago (and a few from New York) do their thing...over and over and over and over again. :) (Seriously though...it could have gotten boring very quickly, but the play was so funny and the cast so engaging that it rarely did.) I got to tread the boards of a Steppenwolf stage, even if only in rehearsals. I met a lot of talented and interesting people. And I got to scan my little security badge every day and go downstairs and hole up in my dressing room and tell myself, "I'm at work now. At Steppenwolf. I'M AT WORK AT STEPPENWOLF." 

To a lot of my peers, I don't think understudying at Steppenwolf is that big of a deal. I mean, it's a paid gig at one of the most critically acclaimed theaters in the country. No working actor just shrugs that off. But I suspect most actors wouldn't get as excited as me. Or maybe all the fantastic actors I know who've had similar jobs are just way better at acting nonchalant than I am. I guess it all depends on where you are in your life and career, and who your own personal faves are. But for me...this summer has been a gift, and I am deeply grateful for it.

I don't know what's next on the horizon for me. Such is the life of an actor; you never really know. And, admittedly, I'm not very good at living in that space of uncertainty. I like to have a plan, and I struggle with maintaining the self-motivation and confidence required to be a working actor. Sometimes it just feels too hard to keep moving through each disappointment and keep pushing toward the next opportunity. Over the years, I've gone through phases where I've taken a long break from acting or decided I'm done altogether. It is an electrifying, exhilarating, and bruising way to make a living, and my too-sensitive self often needs to take a step back. But I always return to the theater, and at this point in my life, I know that I always will. Being in this show, surrounded by such talented artists, has inspired me to keep going, keep working, keep striving. I feel a new drive to move forward, and my new plan - my new dream - is to simply ride that wave and see where it takes me.

The complete cast and crew of The Qualms. See me? (Photo by Michael Brosilow.)

Me with my fellow understudies/dressing-room-mates Jordan and Allie. This entire experience would have been very different if I hadn't had these two women to giggle with every day. (Photo by random person on the street.)

First Day of School!

They are growing up too damn fast.

First grader and fifth grader. Last year ever that they will be at the same school together!

Safety guard!

This first grader LOVED her new teacher.

(Not So) Spontaneous Tattoo!

I've toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo since college, and have actively wanted a tattoo for ten years. I've known the exact look and content of my tattoo, and where I wanted it on my body, for over three years. I decided to use turning 40 as an excuse to actually...you know...get the tattoo that I've thought about getting for two decades. And almost 8 months after my birthday...I actually did it! (I know. A bit impulsive, but what can I say?)

After finally pulling the trigger, I am happy to report that I LOVE MY TATTOO. Emma and Sophie love it too. Emma asked if she could get one of her own someday. "Sure!" I replied. After all, I'm no hypocrite. I explained that if she decides to get a tattoo when she turns 40, I will be fully supportive. Em seemed to find this logic fair and just. (Because IT IS.)

BIG, BIG thanks to my castmates Allie and Jordan, who gave me the push I needed to go and stayed by my side the whole time. Without them, it might have taken me another twenty years.That's not a joke.

Just before. So excited! 
And a little nauseous. Lightheaded.
Perhaps thisclose to a mini panic attack. 
But...EXCITED!

Here we go! And...yep. It hurts.

It gets a little better as we go along, but...yep. Still hurts.

My tattoo artist was really good. Thorough, quick, precise, and patient. Bless her.

My friend Allie held my hand the entire time, while also taking tons of one-handed photos, while also telling an elaborate story about a head-dancing mink just to take my mind off the pain. Allie is good people.

DONE! That's a smile of relief, folks. Tremendous relief.

The final product: "starve the emptiness and feed the hunger" - an Indigo Girls lyric that holds great meaning for me.

And...post-tattoo happiness!

Double Digits, Baby!

Our baby is 10 years old. Wow. Just...wow. A decade knowing and loving Miss Emma Bloom. What a gift.

Sleepover shenanigans to mark the momentous occasion.

 

 

 

 

And fun times with Every Flavor Beans...

 

My Favorite Day

First of all, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to all the awesome moms I know, and all the ones I don't. Every mother in the world deserves a day of appreciation and pampering, which is probably why the powers-that-be went and made Mother's Day a national holiday and all. 

Since having kids, this is my favorite day of the year. Maybe because I'm a Christmas baby, or maybe absolutely because I'm a narcissist, I really like having a day all about me! And my family puts so much thought into making the day special, which really touches me.

I absolutely love seeing the excitement in my girls as they give me my presents. This year, Sophie woke me up with a Breakfast in Bed Bag, complete with tea and a granola bar.

She also decorated a special photo frame for me. She was very proud of herself, as she should be.

Emma gave me a wonderful gift basket with a picture frame she put together at school, three new nail polishes, and a lime orange foot rub that she made from scratch. (My DIY girl.)

 

Em also made me a card, with a picture of me (not bad, right?) and a beautiful note inside that made me cry. (It references another gift still to come. She knows how to build anticipation!)

And both girls wrote me something special...a letter from Sophie and a poem from Emma.

 

 

Chris would not be outdone, surprising me with a brand new desk. Our old one came with the house, and it's been held together by random staples and lots of prayer for quite awhile. I was totally blown away by the surprise.

Even better than the gift itself is that he worked all day long to put the thing together for me. As he labored away, I told my girls that flowers and candy might be the stuff of fairy tales, but having a guy dedicate an entire day toward building something just for you is true romance. Sophie said, "Mommy, it makes me so happy that Daddy did that for you. It makes me happy that he loves you."

Eight hours later, the masterpiece was complete. Ta da! My hero.

I am full of gratitude for this wonderful family of mine. I sure do dig them a lot, and I'm super glad they feel the same way about me. Long live Mother's Day!