Last night, my husband drove me down to Provo. (Have I mentioned that I don't like driving?) I left instructions with my oldest boys about dinner and bedtimes and a firm, 'Behave yourselves.' to the rest. Then, I sat back and relaxed while the Handy Man took the wheel. Well, relaxed isn't the best word. I sat back and tried to calm the butterflies that were dive-bombing my stomach.
When I got to the library, I easily found the room. Inside, I began meeting my new friends. We sat around the table, getting to know each other and snacking on treats. (My husband thinks women can't get together without food. We can, we just prefer not to.) I tried, in my very best just-like-a-high-schooler-way, to fit in. I looked around at these women I've been blog-stalking, and wondered what kind of universal mistake allowed me to be there.
We began reading our pieces and suddenly, my brain cracked. I have daily headaches, and they're something that I mostly ignore--background noise. Maybe it was fighting the tears over the incredibly sweet, sometimes sad, stories shared. More likely, it was all the laughter. So. Much. Laughter.Whatever it was, my head filled and felt like it would simply explode. I tried to push it aside and enjoy the rest of our time. Nothing, not even a major brain-sprain could have ruined my evening.
What an evening.
I love that our stories of motherhood are so varied. Funny, sad, poetic, sarcastic. We each have our tales, and while we are all different, we are all the same. We are women, we are mothers, we are sisters. Though we might not have had the same experiences, there are similarities that we share, that connect us.
This show is going to be amazing. I highly recommend you make time for it, if you can. It is a celebration of motherhood and life, with all of its messy, unplanned, stressful joy.
Me? I'll be taking ibuprofen before it starts.
You can buy tickets HERE.