ROBIN'S SHOW REVIEW: Rated P...For Parenthood

Book and Lyrics by Sandy Rustin
Music and Lyrics b yDan Lipton and David Rossmer
Directed by Jeremy Dobrish
Featuring Courtney Balan, Chris Hoch, David Josefsberg and Joanna Young

Rated P…For Parenthood chronicles various stages of modern-day parenting, from conception to college. The likeable, versatile cast of four takes the audience through the ups and downs of childrearing through a series of comic and musical vignettes in under 90 minutes. They play both adults and kids of varying ages, some more convincingly portrayed than others.

Not much surprising here in the material, but two scenes featuring dad characters were particularly refreshing and witty. In Mind Over Playground, two fathers watching their children navigate a playground find themselves attempting to navigate a potential friendship (thinking in silence, yet aloud to the audience, what the other might be imaging about them). In a rap duet with the two dads, in Parent Teacher Conference, the fathers bust a move anticipating the challenge of speaking with their respective kids teachers, only to find out that they're doing well in school.

The simulated mom/dad texting (peppered with sexting) on the illuminated set backdrop contributed the most to comical moments, which often didn't come across all that well through the quick skit format.

All in all, if you crave a moms night out, you might want to check out the show. No doubt you'll find something to relate to, even if no particular revelation is shared.

Visit http://www.ratedpthemusical.com.

In need of babysitting? Playtime! is the first program to provide childcare during theatrical shows in NYC. It is available for Rated P...For Parenthood, as well as other shows. Check it out at http://www.playtimenyc.com.

Playtime! was established to bring parents back to the theater by providing excellent childcare at (or steps from) the theater at an extremely affordable rate. The service is available to any type of ticket buyer for participating shows, regardless of the price paid for the ticket, and is just $15 per child. Sitters Studio is fully bonded and insured, and their rigorous background checks and training ensure that they provide not only an artistic and fun experience for children, but also one that complies with top-notch safety standards. It is available for children ages 4 - 12.

Mission Statement for Motherhood - by Leta Hamilton

As 2012 approaches, I am going to challenge you to write a Mission Statement for Motherhood. This simple technique takes the letters in “Motherhood” and uses them to encapsulate your core values as a person and as a mother. For example, my Mission Statement for Motherhood is as follows:

M = Measure their success by the amount of joy they experience.

O = Open my door when they knock and listen for when they are standing there, but afraid to knock.

T  = Take the time for my own personal and spiritual growth.

H = Help with life and homework, but do not do it for them.

E = Engage with them as people, rather than just as “kids.”

R = Read and Review my Mission Statement for Motherhood often to remind myself of what matters.

H = Harness their passions to the best of my ability and help them master the skills of their dreams.

O = Organize my own life to be fulfilled outside of my kids and my role as parent.

O = Offer myself the same amount of unconditional love I give to them.

D = Demonstrate to the best of my abilities those qualities I most want to pass on – Unconditional Love, Tolerance, Respect, Humility, and Personal Responsibility

This Mission Statement for Motherhood is printed out, framed and hung up in two locations in my home. In the kitchen I can see it as I go about fulfilling the tasks of mother in the communal nature of family. It is here that we eat our dinners, work on our homework and discuss the ups and downs of our day. Next to the light switch just as you enter the kitchen, I am constantly reminded to be mindful of what I consider sacred about life and motherhood. It is not that I have to read it all the time, but it is of tremendous value just being there, knowing that it is available for reading during those moments when I suddenly realize I have forgotten to see the forest for the trees.

It is also in my bedroom hung next to my dresser. This is my personal space where I brush my hair, put on my makeup and prepare my inner self for the new day. It is also the last place I stand before heading into the bed for night. Here my Mission Statement for Motherhood acts as a trigger to bring everything back to center and to that place where everything begins and ends – my inner self. Again, there is no pressure to read it word for word. Its presence is simply a metaphor for the energy that will take me back to a place where I feel at peace. With all the chaos of life and motherhood, I value this metaphor. I need it. Inner peace is a place from which I deviate often.

The process of writing my Mission Statement for Motherhood took several weeks. I wrote draft after draft until I was sure I had a version I would love for the rest of my life. For some, they may choose to write new ones at various intervals of the motherhood path. Who knows? I may change mine at some point down the line. For now, though, it is enough to have it written, printed and framed on my walls. I love having them there. If you have never considered writing a Mission Statement for Motherhood, I would encourage you to write one now, especially as we close up this year and head into 2012. A Mission Statement is the defining statement for a business and so too it can be for our lives. With that clarity, things become much easier. Ease is a treasure every mother can appreciate. Blessings and Happy New Year to you and yours.

GUEST BLOG POST: Killing the Dream by Amy Wall Lerman

On October 5th of this month, I put an end to my reproductive life.

Having lived through thirteen years of abnormal bleeding which has always taken a toll on my health and quality of life, I came to the painful decision that it was time to take care of myself and stop fantasizing about having more biological children. So after months of deliberating and internal struggle, I decided to have an endometrial ablation which effectively put an end to my ability to bear children. It's a procedure that removes the lining of the uterus so that the endometrium can no longer develop. And, of course, without that valuable lining, a fetus cannot survive and periods cease for good. I'm 46 years old, I'm not menopausal, and while there are many women out there becoming pregnant at my age, either naturally or with the help of medical technology, for me the dream had to be put to rest.

Here is why I made the decision and why it was so hard to get there. When I was 32 years old I started to bleed erratically – spotting for six weeks at a time or heavy bleeding for several days straight – sometimes hemorrhaging to the point of missing work and spending a lot of time on the phone with my doctor. My cycle was never regular and when I did bleed it was almost always heavy and painful.

I was in a relationship when I was 32 but it was a rocky one, and my boyfriend was not ready for kids so I worked very hard with my doctors to keep my reproductive health in tact until I was ready to have a child whether with him or without him (preferably the latter). I always knew having a child would require the aid of reproductive science so I made it my job was to keep my uterus intact and keep the dream alive. Even then I wasn't 100 percent sure I wanted children, but there was no way I was going to let my body dictate my choice.

When I was in a stable relationship at 40 years old my husband and I were told if wanted a child we would have to go directly for IVF and we had no time to waste because age was against my eggs. What? No Clomid? No IUI? Straight for the hard stuff, huh? So we took the doctors' advice and went for it; a couple of times. When I was 42, after IVF with PGD (Pre-Genetic Diagnosis) I gave birth to my beloved Evan – a miracle and a blessing because things were not looking good for us. Out of 9 embryos, only one had normal chromosomes and that turned out to be my little boy.

My story is not unlike many of yours – at least those of you who underwent fertility treatment. What may be different is the level to which I fantasized about becoming pregnant again despite the fact that I did not want to go through IVF again; or the level of grief over the death of a dream, or maybe even my level of masochism at not knowing when enough is enough. When I really thought about it – and oh I really thought about it - I didn't want any more kids. Evan is perfect, and I love being his mommy. He's enough for me. He's my dream come true. But I wasn't ready to kill the fantasy of having a house full of kids; of having a Thanksgiving dinner surrounded by a big family; or of having twenty-five grandchildren 30 years from now. How do I put an end to a dream I've worked so long to preserve?

You'd think I would have made up my mind this past August when, in the ladies room at Disney World, I watched blood run down my legs as I dug for one of my son's diapers so I could make it through the "electric light parade." After cursing-out my husband and going into a funk for the next few hours, I should have called it quits right then and there. I should have realized that if I continued on that path I would not be able to be the kind of mother I want to be, the kind of healthy woman I should be, and the kind of wife my husband would prefer. No, instead I thought I could keep going – keep the dream alive. I wasn't ready to let go even if my health was at risk. Even when I was told I was severely anemic, I still thought I could keep my options open.

What made me change my mind in the end? I think it was something my mother said. She reminded me that when I was 10 years old, she took me for my first bra – much against my will. This was not an exciting day for me. I was a "Tom-Boy" and I did not want to wear a bra. And sure enough I was teased at school and had to tell the little girls snapping my strap that it was a bathing suit for after-school swim class. At 11 years old I got my period. I cried and cried. How would I play kickball now? How would I ride my bike? How would I hide this horrible secret from my friends? I was a shy kid and my developing body would not let me hide. My mother reminded me that I had always felt betrayed by my body - that it had always had a mind of its own and never did what I wanted it to do and things were no different now.

But there is one significant difference this time – and that is that I have control. I can stop my body from doing what I don't want it to do. While it involves a death of a dream, it also involves the birth of renewed life – for me. My quality of life will improve. I will be happier. I will be healthier. I will be the person I want to be – for the first time in a very long time. Periods be damned. This is my time and I'm making the best of it. My family will be a small one, but my new dream is to make it a happy one.

Amy Wall Lerman, Editor the Motherhood Later...Than Sooner eZine, Baby Bloomer, is a television producer, freelance writer and editor. She is the author of several books including The Complete Idiot's Guide to Critical Reading and The Complete Idiot's Guide to Family Games. Her poetry has been published in the online literary journal Patchwork. Amy lives in New Jersey with her husband and 4-year old son.