For the Project Mom Casting folks… here is my one-line unique point of view: So many stories so little time.
For my friends and readers… I am at it again! (no voting, but you can get more info or chant “Jenny On The Spot” here…) I came across a new project that might be a good fit for me if the fitters of the project think I fit. Do you smell what I’m steppin’ in?
Project Mom Casting is a developing project looking to building a TV series around the reality of online moms. I was all… “I’m a mom! I’m online!” But then they asked for “your story”…
Oh. MY story.
I recently wrote a post evocatively titled *ahem*, The Stuff of Life. I know. Groundbreaking.
In it I broke down my story of now… which I don’t feel is all that different than many moms. We have messes and funny kid stories. We have goals for ourselves and goals for our families. We are women who run, bike, swim, walk or yoga… we laugh out loud, we cry, we volunteer too much, we eat more chocolate than we should, and *gasp* we yell at our kids. We fail. We win. We take naps. We pay the bills. We sing lullabies. We struggle with working or not working. Organic… Not organic… We like to dance. Well, I do. And I also love glitter, for the record.
The thing is… I don’t feel my particular story is so unique. Yet it is. Like a snowflake or a finger print, or dried outline of spilled chocolate milk. None is the same.
My story is about the camaraderie. It’s about encouragement. It’s about permission… to dance and wear glitter, even if you are a mom ESPECIALLY if you are a mom. And it’s a bit about perspective. When one woman dares tell her story, the stories of others emerge. I have set free my own stories of victory and defeat as a woman and mother… my own stories of risk, courage and plunder. I have not been throwing stories out into a void. As I dare to open wide, I discover. I learn. Emails, Facebook posts & messages, @ replies & DM’s on Twitter… all tell me WE are the story. It’s just that when I hit “publish”, it cracks the book open.
People in the public eye have easy access to share their stories… but I see stories happening EVERYWHERE. I hear them at school pick-up. I hear them at the coffee shop. I see the posts on Facebook… I read them in the local paper. Stories. Stories. Stories. Spectacular. Desperate. Meaningful… But they are not on the front page of the New York Times. The most incredible stories are found right here – our own friends, our own neighbors… Stories of hope. Stories of struggle. Stories of compassion. From block parties to back-to-school picnics.
This is why I am putting it all out there again. For an opportunity to help crack open another book. Ya know… so many stories, so little time.
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