When friends found out I was seeing Motherhood: The Musical, their response was, "I'm sorry."
Perhaps I know too many cynical broads, or maybe they just know me. Usually, I like my women fired up à la Vagina Monologues, where the irritation is focused on misogyny and injustice rather than diapers and swollen ankles.
But when the talented cast of Motherhood started singing about all the unneeded gifts new moms get, it reminded me of every toy we had that really served as a giant teether, and I actually laughed, thinking, "This isn't so bad after all."
Motherhood: The Musical features Juliana Black as Amy, expectant mom, and Angela Bond, Becca McCoy and Jayne Trinette as her friends. They throw Amy a baby shower and proceed to educate, entertain and frighten her about what to really expect when expecting.
Their discussion includes stretch marks, saggy breasts, scrapbooking, yoga, baby sign language, breastfeeding, cloth diapers, and cleaning up after everyone, with us ultimately turning into our own mothers, whether we like it or not. Anyone who's had to sit through a playdate knows these typical topics are common among females who have successfully expelled a human being from their uterus. Motherhood: The Musical doesn't illuminate the argument of drugs vs. natural birth or discover anything new about stimulating breast pumps. Familiar music and some good-natured jokes simply encourage audience members to laugh and clap along with likeminded women, instead of watching The Food Network or drinking alone.
I understand the clichés and jokes about my chosen and most important job. For several months, maybe even years, finally getting babies to sleep was way more important than whatever the hell was happening in the rest of the world. I just wish books, plays, musicals, movies and sit-coms discussed the less-talked-about side of parenting. I cheered when Motherhood tackled hemorrhoids, incontinence and tips on how to avoid sex with your husband after the baby is born. But what about a musical number on how contractions aren't nearly as bad as attention-starved females make them out to be? Or suggestions on what to say when kids ask about masturbation?
That would be brave and entertaining.
An entire number about storgasms and the lure of Costco seemed contrived and overdone, especially when the audience was encouraged to try for a free basket from the superstore. Come on, folks. We expect product placement from a Michael Bay film, not local theater.
The audience of mostly women knowingly chuckled and clapped along with Motherhood. I hadn't been exposed to that much estrogen since Tom Cruise went on Oprah. A few men attended with their wives, laughing appropriately at tired songs about lazy daddies. Most men I know fully participate in their children's upbringing, so how relevant are those old jokes?
Motherhood: The Musical does evoke strong sentimental emotions, even when they're hidden under the tough exterior of a jaded mom. The room filled with sniffles when Amy and Co. sang about the importance of being a mother, the pain of losing your kids every other weekend to a divorce, or what will happen when our babies grow up. I even got teary-eyed, all while rolling my eyes.
That's a sure sign of end times.
For the final number, audience members were coaxed on stage and given signs with familiar statements like "I'm Done. I Quit!" "Vacuuming Sucks!" and "Put the seat down!" I would have gotten up there if they had a sign that read, "Junior's explosive diarrhea is mostly off my nightie. Wanna fuck now?"
Instead I was content to laugh and clap along with fellow mommies, including my own, whom I'm getting more like every day, for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon.
This article appears in Jun 23-29, 2011.