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The bad mommy in us all

I'm writing a play about motherhood.

All of my plays, in one way or another, are about my relationships with my two daughters.

This play, in particular, is about the following; my biological and much-loved mother, the woman who mothered me with her friendship - and a serious critique of my own job as a mom.

For the past twenty years I've taken credit for my kids' lives.
For the past twenty-something years I have taken full credit for my daughters' wonderful, creative and excellent lives.

I guess that's not a sin.  Lately, however, it occurred to me that most of the work raising these kids was done by the people we all hung around, and the messages they received from the media.

Of course, I controlled most of the media when they were little binks. . .

I don't know.  Maybe I was right in the first place.  Maybe I'm the main source of their success!

My mother certainly thought the same thing of herself.

Of course, I agreed with her.  There's no doubt in my mind that, without my mother, I'd be living today in some damn trailer down by the river.

If not for my mother I'd be living today in a trailer .
Still - comparing my mother's mothering to the way I raised my children is an apples and oranges event.

This play will be interesting.

The title?  "The Simple Truth."

Will you come to the public reading?  I hope so. . .


















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