Wed 16 Apr 2008
Do you remember when you first found out you were going to be a parent, and how suddenly the whole world seemed to have advice to throw at you? Did you have people saying, “Get ready for your life to suck” and warning you that you would never sleep again?
And did it seem to you that people were almost gleeful as they described the myriad ways in which your life was now going to be in ruins?
You’re not alone.
In fact, that kind of unsolicited, ”helpful” advice provides the framework for a hilarious and touching new musical just written by Bill Squier and Jeffrey Lodin, two award-winning writers from Stamford. The two have taken Dana Bedford Hilmer’s book, “Blindsided by a Diaper”, which was published last June by Three Rivers Press, and turned it into a stage show that captures the almost universal experience of panic, fear, excitement, love and confusion that comes into play when the little pink line appears on the pregnancy test stick.
The book is a collection of 30 essays written by men and women who give an unflinching portrait of how having a baby changed their relationship. Some of the essays are hilarious, some are sad, but all have a breathtaking honesty to them, as they tackle some aspect of parenthood.
And I got to see a read-through of the show on Monday night.
The show is a wonderful, amazing compilation of the essays, all framed around a young couple discovering they’re expecting a baby…and realizing through the pregnancy exactly what they’re in for. Bill and Jeff have taken many of the book’s essays and turned them into stories that other people tell to the couple, warning them about what to expect.
The result is both funny and powerful–and so universal. There’s not a single cliche in the mix, probably because the essays come from so many different people, all writing about their own powerful experience.
And, oh yeah, full disclosure here: an essay that I wrote for the book (”Dating the Hubs” about how my husband and I finally got to go on a date and had to learn all over again how to talk to each other) got turned into a skit, and even had a song written about it.
Oh my!
May I just say that I was unprepared for what it was going to be like to sit in an audience and see somebody who was playing ME, saying my words and singing a funny song that illuminated them perfectly? I felt as though my nerve-endings were electrified.
And although I’d been warned by my friend Beth (who is Bill’s wife) to bring along Kleenex, I wasn’t prepared for what it was going to be like when the woman playing me looked out at the audience and read the part about how going out on that date was just the first bit of learning to say goodbye to our child…and now that she was going off to college, she was the one saying goodbye to US.
I could barely breathe.
And when at the end of the skit, the cast stood up and sang in a low voice, “Go, speed racer…” which is the song my husband used to sing to our daughter during those middle of the night walks around the dining room table…well, thank goodness for Kleenex. And waterproof mascara.
Now the show just needs a million dollars so it can turn into a real stage play and go to Broadway. That’s all. I’m saving up my quarters.





April 18th, 2008 at 9:56 pm
What a powerful moment for you. I got tears in my eyes just reading about it. I think I’ll wait until after we have children before I read the book or watch the play, though. I’m already nervous at the thought of kids, and I’m not even pregnant yet.
April 19th, 2008 at 3:43 pm
Wow, I got the shivers just thinking about that! (being reminded of those early days of parenthood is a little frightening too!)
Sounds like a really fun show - sort of the flip side of “Menopause…the Musical.” (Have you seen that?)
April 20th, 2008 at 4:46 pm
Aw, thank you, Caryn. Yeah, although I love the book a lot, I think reading it before you are really there might make you double up on your birth control for a while longer! LOL.
Becca, I was thinking the same thing about this play–that it’s like the flip side of “Menopause…the Musical,” which I have seen and laughed at (hard). It’s got the same universal message that makes you recognize yourself and then laugh until tea comes out of your nose. I bet it would have the same appeal to audiences, too. I hope it gets made into a real touring play!