Creative people really dig getting awards. It's so fascinating to me. I mean, I'm kinda creative. And getting an award sounds kinda fun in a way. I've always dreamed of giving a speech. Ever since I was little. Accepting an award for some film I worked on. Some story I've told.
But now I'm older and uh, tired. And giving a speech sounds a bit like a pain-in-the-ass to me. I would be as nervous as hell and inside I would be probably be chuckling because I would realize that me getting this award that I've been given doesn't mean a damn thing. In the grand scheme of things.
I'll admit that there are plenty of films and documentaries that have won awards that have actually made a difference. Stories that have shed truth on a subject that needed illuminating. And sure, a gold statue shaped like a dude sounds like a decent enough pat on the back for those kind of efforts.
But there are plenty of films, and people, and costumes and sound mixers and scripts that have taken home the coveted Oscar that are just, eh. Eh enough to have slipped only into the Oscar history book remembered only by Oscar buffs.
Tonight as I sit here completely unaffected by all that transpired at the Kodak Theater in Hollywood just 20 minutes from my home, I am thinking of the stories that do affect me. The stories that are told every day in the lives of many cool women I know. Specifically moms. 'Cause this mom scene is really my main point of reference these days. I'm swimming in mom stuff.
And I'm trying to keep from drowning each and every day.
So I'm hosting a little awards show in my living room right now and the fact that I'm not wearing a bra makes me more like the Oscar attendees tonight than I originally thought. The nominees for my lil' awards show are too many to list here but here are some of the main contenders for um, Outstanding Mom of the Year.
Kath, a mom of 3, who works so hard to ground her kids in one of the most stable homes I know and who spreads herself beyond thin taking care of her father who is battling cancer, and who works as a pediatric cancer nurse spreading her love and care to not only the sick kids but their parents as well. She should get an award.
Erin, my neighbor and mom of 3, who is so committed to her family that it's awe-inspiring. She bakes the most delicious chocolate-chip pumpkin mini-muffins and she can't seem to say no to anyone who needs help including the school where both of our kids attend. Give her an award.
My other neighbor, Eri, who has a son who is 2 1/2 (adopted from foster care), a son (1 1/2 who she birthed at home), a daughter (8 months old who she is currently fostering and hoping to adopt) and she's also uh, 7 months pregnant with a baby girl. AND Eri is never seen without a smile on her face. And she's often seen raking her front lawn. Smiling. Yep. Where's her award?
Deb, who has stayed home raising her boys, 16 and 13, and who has struggled with all that comes with having a son with Cystic Fibrosis. She's committed and smart and real and she's working to get a new project off the ground to support other moms of kids with chronic diseases. Award please.
Karen, who has given up her life as an award-winning television producer, to live a slower-paced life taking care of her man and her three gorgeous girls. The last girl being a miracle baby who really had no shot of survival. Karen has walked the walk so many of us fear and she has done it with such courage and grace. Her quiet strength is mind-blowing. Give her a shiny statue now please.
Heather, who has recently admitted she is an alcoholic and is working like a mad woman towards true recovery. She whispers "I promise you" each and every night to her little boys, ages 4 and 2, to remind her why she is taking these difficult, seemingly impossible steps towards a new way of living her days. Her honesty is humbling. Her award is well-deserved so please hand it over.
Amy, who empties her dishwasher first thing each and every morning, and then feeds her two dogs, and then gets breakfast ready for her two kids, 7 and 5, and then packs their lunches, and takes her kids to school, and then grocery shops, and then walks the dogs, and then helps her husband in his business, and then picks the kids up, and then makes dinner, and then feeds the guinea pig that her daughter wanted so badly but now finds that she has fallen in love with this little furry creature herself, and then reads bedtime stories, and then hugs and kisses her precious kids goodnight, and then starts the dishwasher filled with a day of dishes and then goes to bed. And then? She does it all again the next day. Does this mom deserve an award or what??
Steph, who has supported her man after he lost his job and his mom, all within a few months of each other. Who has sat through endless basketball games and dance recitals and soccer sidelines for her two children, 15 and 7. Who always bakes homemade birthday cakes and throws backyard parties. Who has been a rock in a sea of the kind of turmoil life can throw at you. I think an award should be coming her way. Like now.
And the list goes on and on and on. And on.
Although the designer gowns and loaner diamond necklaces will most likely never come our way, I'm feeling that the costumes and characters and plot lines of our mama lives are definitely Oscar worthy.
So if you're like me and you've always dreamed of giving a speech, here is your chance. Kids make an awesome audience. That is, if they listen. Which mine don't most of the time. If the kids aren't working out, you can always resort to the good ol' standby - the bathroom mirror.
To my mama partners-in-crime, I'm thinking of all of your hard work tonight. The second after second of the mundane and the grand, the stories you are creating for the little souls in your life, the creativity you use each and every day to stop a tantrum or whip up a meal or make a costume, for the dedication to your craft.
The most important job of all with indelible impressions to be left on creation.
And so really.
The Oscar goes to........
Now go dust off that shelf to make room for it.