Filmmaking, Motherhood and Apple Pie

"I Don't Know How She Does It"

2012-01-09T08:37:00.000-08:00

I finally saw "I Don't Know How She Does It." I was excited to watch it, because I loved the book by Alison Pearson, except for the ending where (SPOILER ALERT) she gives up everything to move to the country and be a SAHM (stay-at-home-Mom, in case you're unfamiliar with Mommy-lingo.) I was curious to see how they would handle the ending in the movie. I won't spoil it for you, but although it was satisfying in a movie-world kind of way, it wasn't real and completely skirted the issues raised by the story.

If you don't know the premise, the story is about a working-mom who loves her job and her kids and is constantly stressed-out by juggling the two. And it's funny. You can see why it would appeal to me. I love what I do. Who wouldn't? It has it all: low pay, long hours, constant rejection and humiliating pleas for money. (Click here to witness my own humiliating plea.) But at the end of it, if you're lucky, you have a movie. Something that, hopefully, will live on past you. Or at least until the next new innovation in technology renders your film/tape/USB drive obsolete. But I digress.

"I Don't Know How She Does It" spoke to me, in a way that a lot of films don't. I related to the main character's struggle - I live by my lists. I thought I lost my Droid yesterday and almost went into cardiac arrest because I couldn't figure out how I'd manage even 10 minutes without it. And there were funny send-ups of female stereotypes: the SAHM who has made her kids her career, the ambitious single woman who lives for her work and swears never to have children, and the male boss who doesn't want to hear about your kids, or that you have a life, and gets all tongue-tied at the mere mention of a mammogram. But there were some things the film got really wrong. For instance, Sarah Jessica Parker ends up working on a project with Pierce Brosnon and they start to really connect. So much so that (SPOILER ALERT), he asks her to run away with him to Aruba and she doesn't even blink before saying no. Really? I mean, I love my husband, but if Pierce Brosnan asked me to run away to Aruba, I'd be in Bloomie's buying a new bathing suit before you could say "Binge & Purge!" Maybe I'd come to my senses once ensconced on the plane and hearing the dulcet tones of a newborn crying right before take-off. (Or maybe not.) And, like a lot of popular present-day myths, the movie capitalizes on the perceived sharp-divide between working moms and stay-at-home moms. Yes, there are those who pursue child-rearing like an extreme sport and look down on those of us who don't, but most of us feel like there aren't enough hours in the day, no matter what choices we've made. Finally, there is the ending. The same boss who got tongue-tied at the mention of a mammogram takes a stand that is completely out of character. Yes, it was nice and made me feel good, but what I really wanted was a "Nine to Five" stringing up of the chauvinistic boss type of ending. (Now there's a funny, angry feminist comedy!) Still, despite it's flaws, I recommend the film. Especially if you're having one of those "too-tired-to-clean-the-puke/spaghetti sauce/chocolate-off-my-shirt" days.

Being Thankful

2011-11-25T08:58:00.000-08:00

In honor of Thanksgiving, I thought I'd list all of the things that I'm thankful for this holiday. I'm thankful that I have a loving, supportive husband who takes days off work so I can film, who does the nightly routine so I can get a little more work in, who happily takes care of the kids while I'm out at networking events/film seminars/random things that come up, who, on my darkest days tells me I have to keep going. I'm thankful for my family, who whenever I have a shoot or an event or a fund-raiser are the first to help out, kick in and contribute. I'm thankful for my friends who understand that I still love them even when I'm in the midst of production and haven't had time to speak with them, who show up to all my screenings and events in spades and who are there to cheer me on in good times and shore me up in bad. I'm thankful for my children, who even as they complain that they don't see me enough (despite my being their primary care-giver), brag about me to their friends and beg me to help them make their own films and watch as I work on mine. I'm thankful for those of you reading this (and commenting), which makes me feel like I'm not alone in my insanity!

My Top 10 Tips for Losing Weight

2011-09-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

As almost anyone who's met me can probably tell you, I've been trying to lose that extra 20-30 pounds of baby weight ever since I had my twins almost 10 years ago. I've been up as much as 30 pounds and down to 6 pounds over. (I swear! There was a period of about 2 days where my former weight was within spitting distance.) However, I believe I have finally found a successful program and I'm writing it down in hopes that it can help you, too. WARNING: this diet is not for everyone. I would not recommend consulting your doctor, however, as he/she is sure to be against it.

1) Stop eating real food. Eat pre-packaged diet food, preferably on the run, with the occasional bag of Fritos or small sorbet thrown in for good measure. Try to eat a vegetable or two, or just eat whatever your kids leave over on their plates, as I'm sure you're feeding them healthy meals. If you don't have kids, see #2 below.

2) Be in possession of 2 9-year-old children who are just starting middle school, where they will be expected to change classes, organize books for about 8 different classes, keep a schedule of all homework due, and have 3-4 hours of homework per night. The running back and forth to school to get forgotten books, back & forth between kitchen and dining room to help with said homework, and the sheer stress of trying to remember what expanded number form is will burn myriads of calories. If you don't have children of your own, borrow some. I'm sure any parent will be happy to lend them for an extended period of time. One will do, but two is better.

3) Be in the final stages of post-production on a film and submit your film to a festival before it's completely finished. If you are on vacation when you do this, all the better. The extra texting and phone calls required will give your calorie burn an extra push. If you are not a filmmaker, then make sure to find a huge project that starts right as school is beginning and is due in mid to late October. If you don't have a job, volunteer work will do just as well. (E.g. Volunteer to run your school's Halloween Party, be very ambitious, and don't take too many volunteers to help you. If you don't have kids, see #2 above.)

4) Make sure said festival does not send out notifications until just a week or two before the festival starts to promote maximum anxiety. Anxiety (which can induce pacing, a real boon if you don't have time to exercise) and obsessively checking indieWire, Facebook, Twitter and the festival's website all contribute to calorie burn. Make sure you have a smartPhone so that this checking can go throughout the day and during soccer/ballet/music lesson, etc.

5) Initiate post-production with cash-flow difficulties. Begin the process after you have written a grant to cover the expenses (for which you've been led to believe you have a chance), but before the grant awards are announced. More chances to check all forms of social media for an answer with the added bonus of trying to scroll through an hours-long saved-webcast of public meetings for which said grant awards may or may not be announced. For calories burned, see #4. (Note to all my post-production people: you will be paid. I'm obsessive about paying my bills. If I don't have the money, I will scrimp on food. See #1 above.)

6) Get sick. Make sure your children are sick as well. This shouldn't be too difficult, as schools are teaming with infection and wild changes in weather should help. If possible, make sure that your spouse or partner gets sick as well. This will ensure that you will be too tired from taking care of everyone to eat, save for the middle-of-the-night raids on the pistachio jar, which doesn't count, in my opinion.

7) Drink lots of tea. With milk or (preferably) half-and-half. I know, half-and-half has fat, but it will keep you sustained as you forego food. (See #1.) And make sure to add your choice of milk to every tea, even lovely, smoky, Japanese tea. Bonus points for adding the milk in secret to avoid offending tea purists the world over.

8) When most stressful period has passed, continue to create new obstacles which will keep you at this heightened state of stress. One suggestion, make sure you partner with someone of a different faith so that you have double the amount of holidays to celebrate, double the meals to cook (but not eat!) and double the amount of clean-up afterward. If you can convince your partner to sit on the couch and do nothing while this is happening, all the better. (I can't. Mine insists on doing most of the work for these gatherings.) If you have an annoyingly helpful partner, stressing about getting all of the children's clutter out of the common areas and cleaning it should give you sufficient caloric burn.

9) Ensure that the birthdays in your household all fall within a 45-day window. If they don't, I suggest moving them. Throw incredibly creative (and separate) parties for the children which require hunting through stores for just the right thing for goody bags as well as materials for craft activities. The messier the better, as it will involve much more clean-up. You lose points for giving candy, especially so close to Halloween. Plus, all the extra candy around the house is just too tempting. Especially those mini Three Muskateers.

10) Whenever there are occasions where your children receive candy (and there are lots of them right about now), feed them as much of it as you can in the fastest possible time. If they won't eat enough of it to keep out of your reach, hide it. If that fails, when they've gotten tired of candy or forgotten they have it because it's been hidden for so long, send it to work with your partner. His/her co-workers will love you for it.

That's it! Your weight may fluctuate due to the occasional binge, but if you can keep to this schedule, the weight is sure to come off!

I Love my Kids

2011-06-01T07:40:00.000-07:00

I started this blog as a place to vent my frustration over the constant struggle between being a mother and being a filmmaker and never feeling like I do either very well. Sometimes I feel like there's a constant complaint running in my through my head - if only I had time I could make more films; if only I didn't have kids I'd have more time for me. But what I sometimes forget is to reflect on how much richer my life is with kids and how much I actually like my own. Not when they're complaining about homework, or recounting for the umpteenth time that embarrassing story of a temper tantrum I had when they were three, or when they're telling me how they wish Dad was their full-time caregiver because he never yells. It's the other times. Like when my daughter decided she didn't like the play her class was performing about the French Revolution, so she wrote her own, got all of her friends to take parts, rehearse every day at recess and then they performed it for the rest of the class. Or when she sees I'm particularly stressed and gives me a hug and a kiss, saying "I just decided to do that randomly." Or when my son stopped talking about his day in school to ask how the work on my film was going and confirmed that my new editor was working out well. They look up to me (they are only 9 after all) and I don't want to let them down. They inspire me to keep going and to be the best I can be. And they love me even when I'm not. It's that and much more that makes it all worthwhile. Until the next meltdown, anyway.

Confessions of a Juggler

2011-02-23T07:04:00.000-08:00

I loved this article by Tina Fey in the New Yorker. Of course, if you don't subscribe to the New Yorker, you'll just get the abstract, but it's enough to get the feel of the article. (And for just how wickedly funny she is.) I subscribe to the New Yorker, but as a constant juggler (and constant "hurrier"), I left mine on a bus. (This problem, at least, will presumably go away once I get my Nook Color. Although I suspect I'll forget to charge it and will be left with a 1 pound brick in my bag.) Luckily, Melissa Silverstein pointed out the article in her blog, Women & Hollywood. And because I am a subscriber (missing magazine notwithstanding), I was able to create an account and read the digital form for free.

It's refreshing to see someone in Hollywood talk about the realities of combining career and motherhood. It does have an impact. I remember the conversations about motherhood going around when I was in my 20's - when to have kids - better to have them while you're young at the beginning of your career? Or wait until you're well established and have more power to call the shots? None of it is easy. I came to filmmaking late (meaning I didn't start in utero, like a lot of indie filmmakers these days.) I waited years to make my first short. Then I had kids. It kind of put a damper on my ability to work production jobs, where a 12-hour-day is considered short. And working production is how you meet people that you want to work with. Still, I would do it again. I have a lot of friends in the indie world who are single, unattached and live for filming. I chose to have a family. It makes doing anything harder and everything takes longer, but it makes everything worth doing in the first place.

New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-02T18:55:00.000-08:00

I'm stealing my resolution this year from Ela Thier, another first-time female filmmaker whom I admire. I can't wait to see her film, "Foreign Letters."

"My New Year's resolution is to be exactly who I've been and do exactly what I've been doing."

Well, okay, there is one thing I'll resolve to try: to lose the moniker that my kids have given me - "Mount Cranky."

And to finish my film, "In Montauk."

So that's two things. But of course, these are things I've been doing all along. So do they count?

Cooking and Editing

2010-12-14T17:13:00.000-08:00

I haven't been the main cook in my family since my husband took over that job over 10 years ago when he determined that my repertoire wasn't big enough for his gourmet tastes. Even after kids, he did the shopping and most of the cooking, preparing meals that can be reheated quickly. Turns out that his repertoire of kid-friendly foods isn't big enough for them. So, I've gone back to the kitchen for all of us. Causing me to re-juggle my time once again. I have a sense of what the kids will like and am usually successful when I try something new for them. My husband has thinner skin and gets discouraged after one rejection.

In addition to my added kitchen duties, I'm editing my own feature film and overseeing the edit of a short film that was begun two and a half years ago and only recently finished filming. Each time I serve up a new edit to a test audience in hopes of being finished, I find that the mix isn't quite right. It doesn't quite speak to them, they can't relate, or they are bored. And those are some of the nicer comments. Each time, I lick my wounds and go back and try again. I can only hope that like with the meals I serve to my kids, I will figure out what will appeal to my audience and get to that final cut. If not, like with my meals, I will go back in and try again.

And if you're in the market for good 30-minute recipes that are kid and adult-friendly, I recommend The Best 30-Minute Recipe from Cook's Illustrated. It's become my food bible.

The week from Hell

2010-11-14T19:05:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the universe conspires to tell me that not only can I not do it all, but sometimes I need to do nothing. At least that's how I chose to look at my last week's experiences which included 2 (minor) car accidents.

I should start with my agenda for the week. My husband was going out of town for a week, so I, in my infinite wisdom, did not make any allowances in my schedule for the extra work this would cause me. On the home-front, my duties included shopping for the week, making three healthy meals a day for me and the kids, doing the laundry, getting the kids to and from school and driving them to their after-school activities three of those days, homework supervision, bath supervision and reading to them before bed. On the film/professional front, my agenda included finishing fine-tuning the edit for the 2nd 40 minutes of my film, "In Montauk", supervising the edit of a short film I directed, reading and evaluating about 20 grants for a panel I'm on. Not much, right?

Sunday and Monday went along fine. I did shopping, laundry, got Celine to her ballet rehearsal (mostly) on time despite the space being right on the route for the New York City Marathon. I edited. I started on the grant applications. Tuesday it started to fall apart. Noah got sick. I wasn't feeling that great. Still, I managed to get a little work done, while still not totally neglecting Noah. Wednesday it all went to hell in a hand-basket. I got into a minor fender-bender on the way into the city to see how the edit was coming for "That's What She Told Me." Partially because I was distracted and tired and sick and wondering how I was going to do it all. Obviously, I wasn't. By Thursday, I felt so awful, I wasn't sure I could get out of bed. But get out of bed, I did, then drove the kids to school, took my car to the body shop (where I know them by name), got a rental car and then promptly passed out at home until I left to pick up the kids. Friday I still felt like I had the flu, called my doctor and begged for a prescription for what had turned into a major sinus infection without having to go in. The house was a mess. Michael was coming home. The sink was full of dishes. Did I really want him to come home to a house that looked like a tornado and a hurricane had simultaneously demolished our living space? Plus, despite wanting him to feel guilty about leaving me to such a terrible week, I didn't want him to think that I couldn't handle it. So, in the hour before he came home, I roused myself and attacked the house like a whirling dervish until it was clean (enough). He came home and I breathed a sigh of relief. But, a day too soon as it turns out.

My big plan for Saturday was to make a dent in all the work I still needed to do while the kids were at an all day birthday party. I was medicated, feeling better and ready to face the world. Maybe Michael and I could sneak away to a romantic lunch. Alas, it was not meant to be. On the way home from dropping the kids off at their party, we were side-swiped by a giant truck while sitting at a light. I'm not sure where he thought he was going, considering that the lane he was moving into had oncoming traffic which included a NYC bus. Two hours later, the phone number to call for a police report number in hand, we went on a romantic shopping excursion to Trader Joe's. Then tea. Then picked up the kids. When the truck first hit us, I burst into tears, thinking, "It's all too much." And it was. But from the distance of a day later, I think it's really another wake-up call to slow down a little, don't try to do everything at once and do what Michael does whenever I go out of town for a week to work on a shoot - take the week off.

Am I doing the right thing?

2010-07-23T07:51:00.001-07:00

Thursday night I had a screening of the latest rough cut of my feature film "In Montauk." I was trying to get friends who were Mothers and worked outside the home, preferably in a creative field. (Actually, lots of us work at our other job in the home.) Time constraints being a constant in all of our lives, I ended up with an audience of two besides myself. Both friends who'd been witness to the process, who knew the struggles I was having, but also friends who would tell me, honestly, if the film wasn't working.

I particularly wanted this audience because the ending has ended up being controversial. Particularly among my male film friends who, as proper feminist-loving men, loudly voiced their opinions that I was betraying women, betraying feminism and that my potrayal of the lead woman was outdated. And that my strong feelings about how the film should end were getting in the way of making a good, satisfying film.

Needless to say, this screening, for my target audience of two, made me want to vomit. What if I really am the only person who understands why it ends the way it does? What if I haven't earned it in the film?

In a way, it is like watching what other mothers are doing for their kids and wondering if I am doing the right thing. That mother who signed her kid up for the Metropolitan Opera Chorus because he can really sing and loves to perform - should I be doing that for my kids? Or the mother who takes her child into Manhattan every Saturday for swim lessons - why am I not doing that? Or the mother who has a sports-loving daughter who plays basketball, softball and soccer - why aren't I doing that for my kids? Will they still turn out okay? Will they be well rounded? Or am I cheating them by not pushing them to be the best that they can be at one thing? (My kids each study one instrument, take one dance/sports class and one art class).

With a film, though, there is the hope that you will get an audience. That it will appeal to some segment of the population. After all, filmmaking is about trying to communicate something, about trying to touch people. And so I watched the film anxiously with my friends. I chewed on my nails, then stopped as I saw my lead doing that on screen. I twitched. I made notes. I held back from making excuses for every bad cut, poor sound, or temporary music that was cheesy. And they got it. They understood why I ended my film the way I did. In fact, they read more into it than I had intended. They loved it. They agreed that it was the only way to go. And I can breathe easier, without the anxiety that I need to re-conceive the story and re-shoot the ending or risk alienating the very audience I'm trying to appeal to.

As for my kids, the only audience I really care about is them. Whether or not they'll agree that I did the right things for them, only time will tell. And possibly years of therapy.

Film Distribution and Parenting Styles: A working theory

2010-04-08T03:56:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago I attended "The Conversation: A Social Media Event" about getting your films out there, new models of distribution using digital technology. Now you can distribute your films on iTunes (if you go through an aggregator, because they won't deal with independent filmmakers), stream them on Netflix, hulu, Video on Demand. Only the very lucky, very connected or those with big-name stars get the holy grail of film, theatrical distribution. This wasn't about that. There were a lot of interesting stories from filmmakers who'd put their films out there, either for free or for pay; Arin Crumley with "Four-Eyed Monsters", the first narrative feature film to be shown on YouTube and Nina Paley with "Sita Sings the Blues," which won the Gotham Award for "Best Film Not Playing at a Theater Near You" in 2008 who streams her film for free online and makes her money back on ancillary items, including DVDs. Representatives from traditional outlets, IFC and Cinetic both said that they are still trying to figure out how to make money using digital outlets. ( To see a nice summary of the event, see David Tames' blog.) The most interesting thing that came out of the conference for me was, to paraphrase a quote by William Goldman, "[In digital distribution], no one knows anything." Which is not exactly true, but it felt like there isn't one single answer to the best path to distribution. It was more that it is important for filmmakers to understand distribution, how it works, what's available and then forge their own path.

To me, this seems much like the plethora of advice out there about parenting. You can find proponents out there for almost any type of parenting, most in the extreme. There's the attachment parenting promoted by Sears, saying that unless the child is literally attached to your body at all times, you are doing him or her a disservice. I had twins. They spent a lot of their baby years in bouncy seats. They are now respectful, fun, ebullient eight-year-olds that don't seem the worse for wear. There is Overparenting, or being a "helicopter" parent, a label which no parent wants. Unfortunately, I have seen it used by administrators to tell parents (yours truly included) to back off and let them handle it when their child is being bullied. We see how well that worked for Phoebe Prince, the 15-year-old girl who committed suicide after suffering from relentless bullying. And there is a new style that I have witnessed emerging, Hands-off Parenting. Where parents think the best way to teach a child is to leave them alone and let them figure it out for themselves. To me this seems like neglect, but I suspect it's a response to overparenting. I've also seen parents get less lenient as their children get older and start attending schools, where they have to interact with other children appropriately, or risk getting ostracized. All this is to say, that it is ultimately up to parents to figure it out for themselves. Not in a vacuum, but to read the literature, talk to other parents (maybe even their own) and go with their gut.

As I write this, I realize that I have accepted this tenet in my own parenting, but I have yet to accept it for my film. So I will gather information on distribution, use what seems useful, discard what doesn't, and go with my gut.

Directing is a lot like being a mom

2009-12-13T04:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the first day of shooting "In Montauk" and I was reminded of how much it's like being a mom in my experience. You put together the best environment that you can, give the actors a safe place to flourish and then let them go. In indie film, especially, where money is tight, you do your best to make sure everyone feels taken care of and appreciated.

Yesterday morning was cold. Really cold. Like 26 degrees on a windy beach kind of cold. We were shooting at 6:30 am. By 8:15, I could no longer feel my feet. I kept asking my lead actress, Nina, if she could feel hers. My crew started joking: "Why can't this movie be called IN MAUI?" I started thinking they were right. People don't flock to Montauk off-season for a reason. I started re-thinking the shirtless scenes that Lukas was going to have to do later. I couldn't bear the thought of him getting sick because of something I'd asked him to do. We were lucky - the weather got warmer, the sun came out, and the wind wasn't so bad where we were shooting. And, he knew the deal when he signed on, he's an adult. And that's the biggest difference.

Still, it gets kind of weird when you start calling your cast and crew "honey" and reminding them to pee because there are no bathrooms at the next location.

Finding Time for Oneself

2009-12-06T03:34:00.000-08:00

I thought I didn't have time for myself before. Then I went into pre-production for "In Montauk." I can't remember the last time I was this busy. I get up, get the kids ready for school, take them or drop them off depending on who's carpool day it is, come home, work, pick them up, supervise homework, take them to afterschool activities, come home, feed them, hand them off to husband, work, read them a bedtime story, say "hello" to husband and go back to work. Part of it is the short pre-production schedule and part of it is the nature of the business. It's tough to get everyone excited about a project that's going to happen in six months. But a month, that gives some urgency to it. It would have been nice to find an in-between, but my location was about to disappear to construction crews.

I'm doing what I want to be doing, so I shouldn't complain, right? But that doesn't make it easy. I fall into bed every night feeling like I've been run over by a truck. Still, at least I sleep. Yesterday morning, while doing final re-writes on my script at 6:00 am, I got an e-mail from a friend telling me she'd found tights for our sons, who were to perform in a one-hour version of "The Nutcracker" later in the day. "Great!," I e-mailed back, "Can I come by and pick them up?" She lives down the street. I thought it would be no problem. She's e-mails back that she's in Central Park, ice skating. It's the only time she has for herself, early morning on the weekends. She gets time for herself by giving up sleep. I refuse to do that. Instead, I explain to my kids that Mommy's going to be very, very busy for a little while, but that I'll be back when it's over. "Are you going to be back for Christmas?" my daughter asks. I'd better be.

Bones and Sex

2009-11-17T06:57:00.000-08:00

This week I have two things going through my head: getting my kids through their science test on bones and how am I going to shoot the sex scenes on "In Montauk."

I greenlit my project last week. (Can you say that about yourself?) I'm officially in pre-production, with the first part of the shoot planned for mid-December. Last night I had to write up a description of the exact amount of nudity I plan to have in the film for SAG (the Screen Actors Guild). The sing-song voice in my head: "Femur, patella, tibia and fibula. King Julien the lemur, comes up to your femur." I went over and over it again with the kids. It runs through my head as I'm trying to think about the sex. Breast in profile, legs up to mid-thigh. The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone. Wait, no, bones interrupting again. Bare butt but no crack. For the male, full butt, but no hanging parts. Sing-song voice again: "clavicle, humerus, radius and ulna." My daughter has taken up a phrase of her friend's: "What the phalanges is going on?" (Phalanges are the bones in the fingers and toes, for those of you who may not remember 3rd grade science. Or any science.) Fingers and hands running over bare stomach. No bush. Oops! Did I say that out loud? It's not always easy keeping everything separate. I can't wait until they want to watch the film. Perhaps I'll take 10 years to finish.

Collision Course

2009-10-13T07:43:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to get a feature off the ground, 10 years after a very successful run with "Weeki Wachee Girls" and 8 years after giving birth to twins. There - I've put it out there. I've been trying to get a feature off the ground ever since I made "Weeki Wachee Girls" and have been saying it for almost as long. At first, I spent my energies on the feature script version of "Weeki Wachee Girls" and started fundraising for it almost two years ago. Then the bottom dropped out of the market, and $200,000 felt like too much for me to raise on my own in this economy. So I put it on the back burner. At the same time, my good friend, Brian Dilg, talked about his experience shooting a documentary, "Truth Be Told" on HD with available lighting. He'd had a screening of it and people told him it looked great. He said you could shoot a feature this way. You just needed a script with a few actors and minimal locations. So I dusted off "In Montauk" and took another stab at it, re-writing it and turning it into a noir-type drama.

I've spent the last 10 months re-writing it, reading it in my writer's workshop, and talking to people about how to get it done. I've completely re-imagined one of the characters and attached Lukas Hassel to play the role. I've met with the management company and primary owners in our Montauk co-op, The Royal Atlantic, about shooting there this winter, and they are enthusiastic. But that's where the potential problem comes in. I'd hoped to shoot in January or February. Give myself time to really hone the script. Finish getting cast and crew together. The only problem, they are planning a big renovation this winter. Starting in mid-December. They will work around me as much as possible, but I really don't want to be shooting in a construction zone. It's supposed to be empty. Lonely. No one around. It's key to the story. So the question is, can I get ready that quickly? A big part of me wants to say, "yes" and jump right in. It's the only way to do it. And the mommy part says, "But what about the upcoming hellish holiday season?" In the next two months, I have the kids' birthday, my husband's birthday, my birthday (which I'd happily forego), Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hannukah and Christmas. Yes, we are a hybrid household and therefore celebrate all Jewish and Christian holidays. My husband, ever supportive, says, "Go for it." I'm not sure if he understands quite what that means. I'm not sure I do. But for the next few months, our lives should be interesting. I will try to document what it means to make this film while still being "Mommy" or "Mom" as my son has recently taken to calling me. It will be fun if it doesn't kill me. Stay tuned for updates!

Lack of Choices

2009-09-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

This blog is all about choices. And like most women my age, I assumed that when I had children, all my options would still be open. That it was just a matter of making the "right" choices. Even though I was a latchkey kid myself, it never occurred to me that the fault might be with the system. When I was in college, the biggest protest on my Atlanta campus was to protest the raising of the drinking age. At the time, I secretly agreed with the legislation, seeing how many kids drank themselves sick, or a few, to death. I couldn't hook into the Sandinsta/Contra debate. ERA was a dead horse and besides, it wasn't needed any more. When my sister-in-law had a baby 18 years ago and didn't go back to work, I assumed that it was because she had a difficult child. A few years later, a friend became very involved in the National Association of Mothers' Centers, after being frustrated at the lack of opportunities available to her that afforded her the ability to work and parent at the same time. It was still years before I had my own children when she told me that it wasn't possible to have it all. "I'll do it," I thought smugly to myself. After all, I'd succeeded at everything else, why not this?

Then I had kids. Twins. My mother lived in Florida. My mother-in-law was close by and very willing to help, but she was in her 70's. And my husband started working 11-hour days. I was lucky, because at least we had the resources to hire a nanny. And still, I was frustrated. I was exhausted. For the first five months, I never slept more than two hours at a stretch. The first three years are a complete blur. I know I did some writing and worked on a few short films, but other than that, I don't remember much. I'd had friends who lost all ambition for anything but mothering when their kids were born, but the opposite happened to me. I wanted to do more, be more, have something to show the kids for my life. Not to mention that my film life feeds me emotionally and mentally. But guilt set in at the same time - am I a good mother if I still want to make films? How do I reconcile wanting kids so desperately with wanting to make films just as desperately? Especially as both are basically 24/7 jobs. I looked for other women who still made art after kids. I lost touch with most of them. People asked why I cared about continuing to make art. I didn't need to work, I could afford to stay home with my kids, shouldn't that be enough?

And that is why Judith Warner's book, Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety was such a revelation to me. My husband gave it to me several years ago, and I only recently picked it up. I haven't quite finished it, but the opening premise, that motherhood in America is madness struck a chord with me. My husband has relatives in France and I've talked with them about family leave policy, childcare options and listened awestruck as one cousin explained that she had the right to be out of work for three years and go back to the same or similar position in her company. Three years! Another cousin said how when she was working on a film, she was able to leave her late-life baby in a creche (nursery) until 11:00 p.m. to finish her editing. And this is a woman devoted to her child. The two things did not seem contradictory at all to her. But it didn't click until I read this book, probably, because at the time I was talking to these French relatives, I still didn't have kids of my own.

Now, I look back, and ask myself, "Why don't we have even a fraction of these supports?" "Why don't we demand these rights for ourselves?" We, as mothers, will never truly have choices until there are supports in place which would allow a woman to work and not worry about whether or not she has adequate care for her children. Not to mention the women who need to work, and have the same difficulty finding adequate care. Or can't keep a job because their child gets sick once too often. I haven't finished the book, so I'm not sure what Judith Warner proposes, but I know it's time for me to get more involved. And one organization I'll be taking a closer look at is MomsRising. And oddly enough, my current film project, "In Montauk", is about a pregnant photographer who tries to have it all and winds up dead for her efforts. I guess my work and my life aren't so separate after all.

Can We Support Working Mothers?

2009-07-05T19:00:00.000-07:00

I just read an article in Brain, Child magazine about a mother who let her 12-year-old daughter and her friend take her younger children and another friend to the mall. (You can read the entire article here: "Guilty As Charged"). The girls had taken a babysitting course and were used to being in charge and she dropped them all off at the mall with a cell phone and an appointed pick-up time. She was charged with endangering the welfare of her children. While I don't necessarily agree with her choice, I certainly understand it. And the charge seems extreme, especially given her description of the small town she lives in and the mall as a gathering place for families.

As she tells it, she was exhausted and when the older girls asked if they could go to the mall, she agreed as long as they took the younger kids with them. And there is the crux of the matter: exhaustion. Many mothers, including myself, make choices we may not feel entirely comfortable with later because we're tired. Or the children are tired. Or we're trying to do too much, like work and take care of the children, and pay the bills and do the laundry and negotiate arguments and make dinner and take care of the house and... the list is endless. I'm not saying that the husbands don't help, but the amount of time they spend on childcare and housework is generally acknowledged to be less than that of their working wives (except in the case where the husband is the primary caregiver.)

I once saw a mother leave her three young children in the car in front of 7-11 while she went in to buy drinks for them. I thought about calling social services for a nanosecond. Instead, my kids and I hung out with them for a few minutes. I saw their mother returning as we went into the store. I knew why she'd done it - to go with the kids would be a half an hour ordeal, to go in alone would take all of five minutes. They were right outside the entrance and she could see them for most of the time she was in the store. Did I think it unwise? Yes. A crime? No.

The saddest part of the Brain, Child magazine story was that the prosecutor was a woman and a mother who prosecuted the case with righteous zeal. Maybe she wouldn't have let her own daughter go to the mall. But I defy her to defend every decision she ever made with regards to her daughter. Especially as a working mother. We as mothers tend to be very hard on ourselves, but even harder on other mothers. I can't count the number of times that I've heard women negatively comment on how another mother parents her children. I've been guilty myself. But behind it all is my own guilt: are my choices the right ones? Have I done things that could be considered negligent? Do I yell more than other mothers? Do I spend enough time teaching my kids? Do they watch too much TV? Eat too much junk? Get enough vitamins? Am I selfish for wanting my own career?

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that parenting is not easy. Being a working mother is nearly impossible. Why can't we acknowledge that and be more supportive of each other?

Easy choices

2009-06-20T16:58:00.000-07:00

Next week, my former nanny's son is graduating from high school and will be off to college in the fall. It made me think about the choices she had to make in her life.

Like many immigrants, she came to America alone, leaving her two children behind, then aged 10 & 12. For two years, she worked as much as she could and lived as simply as possible, saving up to bring them here. She had been here a year when she came to work for me, caring for my premature newborn twins, while family in Cameroon cared for her children. I was heartbroken every time I thought of them. I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from my babies for two hours, let alone two years.

When her children arrived, I embraced them as family. When my nanny had an emergency appendectomy, I brought them to my house to stay until she was home from the hospital. After she no longer worked for me, her son began babysitting for the twins a few times a month. In some ways, I guess I'm still trying to make up for keeping them apart, although it was not my decision to make. Now that he is graduating from college, I've been reflecting on my own need for independence from my children, and realizing that my choices have all been easy in comparison to hers. I feel lucky. And I hope that I'm never faced with the difficult choices she had to make.

Choices

2009-03-22T06:42:00.000-07:00

Next week is a busy one. I have my writing workshop on Tuesday night, at which I'm reading as many pages as I can finish from my noir re-write of "In Montauk." A screening of shorts on Wednesday night that I was invited to gratis because I shared festival advice with one of the filmmakers. On Sunday, a tentative screening of "Weeki Wachee Girls" and a rough-cut screening of a friend's documentary that he's been working on for two years.

With two young children, I can't possibly pursue all of the networking opportunities or attend all of my friends' shows, but sometimes it feels impossible to attend even one. Every time I go out at night I hear the inevitable question "Why do you have to go?" And if I'm out more than usual, it's followed by "But you go out all the time. I never see you any more." And more often then not, I hear, "I need more Mommy time," which means alone time with that particular child. And usually, they are both saying it at the same time.

I try to reason with them. I try to explain that because I don't go to a job every day, they actually see me a lot more than other kids see their mommies. I'm the one that takes them to school, picks them up, makes sure homework is done, takes care of them when they're sick and most of the time, gets up in the middle of the night with them. It doesn't matter. It never seems to be enough. My sister, who has a 21-year-old son, tells me to appreciate it while it lasts. Before long, they won't want to be with me at all. And maybe she's right. Last week, my daughter's Friday After-School class was canceled, so I picked her up early to spend time with her while her brother was in his class. What did she want to do? Go to the park and play with her friends. Afterward, she and I came home together and played cards. It was lovely, stress-free and enjoyable for both of us. And those are the moments that make it hard to make the choice to go out. So I try to keep the going out to a minimum and carve out a little extra time for the kids when I do. And I try to remember that they won't be seven forever.

Vacationing without children

2009-02-02T08:11:00.000-08:00

I'm in London in the worst snowfall in 18 years. Without my snow boots. My husband is working and this is supposed to be my time for me, away from the kids, having fun and doing some writing. So here I am at 4:00 in the afternoon, working on my blog. I'd imagined sitting in some cute cafe, being hip and urbane, writing on my laptop or in a notebook, sipping tea (I don't do coffee) and generally being carefree. A few things happened to foil my perfect plan. First of all, there was the snow. Lots of it, for London anyway. Everything is shut down, including many tube lines. Secondly, the Starbucks virus has invaded London almost as thoroughly as it has New York. If I'd wanted to sit in a Starbucks looking cool, I could have stayed at home. Third, as I mentioned, I don't have the right shoes. We're staying in Canary Wharf, which is sort of a cross between the World Financial Center and South Street Seaport - a former fishing area on the water that has been turned into a cute shopping area, with a large business center and lots of hotels. So, I think, great, I'll buy snow boots, have lunch, then head into the center of London. Oh, and while I'm at it, I'll refill the minutes on my cell phone so that I can call the kids later.

Needless to say, that plan didn't work out all that well, either. It turns out that the network I'm on isn't widely available so "topping up" my card isn't that easy. The store where I bought the phone (cheaper than using the hotel phone) isn't open due to the weather. In fact, half the stores in the mall are closed. It isn't until 3:00 that I find an open shoe store that carries boots that would be appropriate in the snow and don't cost an arm and a leg. I try them on even thought technically, they should be too small. They fit. I decide to go back to my room, top up my phone via internet (which you can only do if you use a UK address) and then head out. When I leave the mall and see how gray and miserable it is outside, I'm no longer sure that I want to brave going into central London. Then I watch the news, which continues to send out dire warnings about staying home unless you absolutely have to get out. And I find that while I don't mind walking around in the snow (in my new snow boots), I can't bear the thought of being stuck inside a tube station waiting for a train that may never come.

I start wondering what to do. I could write some more, but my sterile hotel room feels a bit stifling and jet lag is starting to set in. I could go to the movies, but "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" is the only thing playing locally within the hour. Mostly, I realize, I miss the hectic nature of my life, and if I'm truthful, I miss my kids. While I'm with them, I'm dreaming of time to myself. Now that I've got it, and no responsibilities other than to maybe be back in time for dinner, I find that I'm at a loss. It's as if I'm missing a limb and haven't quite figured out how to manage without it. I'm thinking about what they're doing in school, whether or not they'll be able to concentrate or finish homework or sleep when I'm not there. So far, it hasn't been a problem for either of them. Perhaps I should take a cue from them - their life goes on when I'm not there, as it should. Maybe I will go see "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" and pretend for a while that I'm carefree and a teenager. And enjoy this time I have, since it's unlikely to happen again soon.

New Year's Resolutions

2008-12-28T09:24:00.001-08:00

It is December 28 and I am desperately trying not to make New Year's resolutions. I find that every year I set up impossible goals for myself and end up disappointed when I don't reach them. And how could I? They are goals that assume that each day contains 48 hours, most of them dedicated solely to me. As a mother of 7-year-old twins, it's obviously not realistic. Yet I find myself wondering, once again, what I should be planning for the next year. I am lucky that I have choices - I don't have to work for pay (much), my husband still has his job, my kids go to school and are in an AfterSchool enrichment program leaving most of my week-days free. Still they are full when you consider that I am writing, fund-raising, filmmaking, volunteering at school, managing homework, networking, managing the household and more.

I spend many hours volunteering at the kids' school. It is my way of being involved and making sure that they are getting the best I can give them. Although sometimes I wonder if some of it isn't a way of avoiding my art. Or if it puts me in a comfort zone of saying "I never have time for what I want to do!" Because sometimes, thinking about being successful at what I want to do is depressing. I want to (and do) write plays and movies. I want to direct my own scripts. I want to see my movies get made well. I want to write what I'm interested in (small, indie dramas centered around women's lives). And the odds are not good. Not if I want to be successful. And by successful, I mean have the movies pay for themselves and get distribution. Okay, I'd be happy with not having to put all of my own money into my films to get them made. And I just read a depressing statistic that said that dramas only comprise 7% of Hollywood films being made today. There are even fewer films starring women. I have a better chance of being elected to Congress than of being a working female director. Where does all of this leave me?

I suppose I'll have to make resolutions after all. That are do-able. Here goes:
1. Be the best mother I can be without trying to do everything.
2. Stop focusing on the statistics of why I can't make films and figure out how to just do it.
3. Concentrate on what I want to do and not what I should do.

That's it. If I can remember those three things, the year will be a success.

Sick Days and Holidays

2008-11-16T07:59:00.000-08:00

I never knew how many days off my kids would have, both planned and unplanned. When I first got pregnant, I naively assumed that I would work in the kids around my schedule, with minor adjustments. Little did I know. In the last three weeks the twins have been home six out of fifteen days. Two of them were holidays, one was a protest day (mine) and the rest they were sick.

At first I'm relieved. They're too sick to go to school. I don't have to get out of bed. I don't have to go anywhere. We can just hang out and be together. Then after two hours of hearing "I'm bored" while I try to answer e-mail, update the website or whatever minor task I've set for myself (because there's no way I can write or make phone calls or edit with all of the interruptions) I give in and play Princess Monopoly. Twice. Then the paints come out. Then the Legos. Then the pillows and blankets. By lunchtime it looks like a tornado swept through my living room leaving it filled with the entire contents of our local Toys R Us. And I realize that I it's time to be "Mommy" with a capital M. There's school work to do. Piano to practice. A valuable lesson in cleaning up after oneself to be learned. All of which takes about an hour. By 2:30 I give in to their pleas to watch TV so I can lie down for a few minutes. By 4:00 they're bored again and I'm watching the clock trying really hard to restrain myself from calling my husband and screaming "COME HOME NOW!"

Planned days off are better, especially when I actually make a plan. On Veteran's Day we went into the Central Park Zoo with some classmates, another Mom and a babysitter. We ate pizza at a local restaurant. We ran up and down the big rocks in Central park and played on the cool rock-like playground attached to it. We ride the subway home tired and satisfied at a day well spent. And I think to myself how wonderful it is to spend time with two terrific seven-year-olds who will throw their arms around me on a whim. I wonder why do I have this need to write, to film, to tell stories? Why can't I be content just to be? Perhaps, I think, I can give it up.

They go back to school. I go back to writing. I write a scene that moves me to tears. And I know that this is something that I have to do. There is no choice. And so, I continue to pursue my dream between sick days and holidays and hope that in both pursuits, I am making the world a slightly better place.

Apple Pie

2008-10-16T13:20:00.000-07:00

Since this blog is called "Filmmaking, Motherhood and Apple Pie," I thought I'd better do a post on Apple Pie, since this is the time of year when I usually attempt one. I say "attempt" because I've probably made a dozen apple pies in my life, with varying degrees of success. Our family goes apple picking almost every year, a ritual that I love. We always seem to end up going Columbus Day weekend, even though our friend whose family owns the farm, Applewood Orchards in Warwick, NY, tells us that it's too late and too crowded. Nevertheless, he always steers us to the best area with the perfect apples that always taste a thousand times better than what we get at the store. And so we invariably come home with 2 bushels of apples and I'm left figuring out what to do with all of them. It's unavoidable with two young children who love to pick them and have a daddy who's willing to carry them.

So, we decided to make an apple pie. And when I say "we", I mean the kids decided and I acquiesed. Because like most things I commit to in life, I always forget how much time it takes and blissfully dive in, realizing at the halfway mark that I'm finished, want to be done, and still have much more to do. Take the dough, for instance. Even with a food processor and three pairs of helping hands (we added a friend to the mix this year), it still takes a while to get it right. And I refuse to buy prepared pie shells. So we made the dough, I flattened them into 2 disks and dutifully refrigerated them. The kids got bored, the friend went home and I sat down for a few minutes. I thought to myself, "Now I just have to peel and cut the apples. Shouldn't be too bad." After my daughter took 10 minutes to peel one apple, my son the same, I decided I'd better do most of that myself. An hour later I finished peeling and cutting and the kids came back to help me measure the spices for the mix. Then we rolled out the dough. I never get it right the first time and always over process the dough and it never seems to stretch out as much as they say it should. But finally, we got it all put together, albeit imperfectly, and put it in the oven. The hardest part was waiting until the next day to eat it, since it needed to rest for four hours and we all went to bed before it was ready. It didn't look beautiful, but tasted great and I derived great satisfaction from doing it with the kids.

And I find myself thinking how much making a pie is like writing, or filmmaking, or editing. If I really thought about how much work I was getting myself into, I might never get started. But every script starts out a perfect film in my head. Then comes getting it onto paper. Then there's the first time you read it out loud and realize you've got so much further to go. But when it's done, it's a great feeling. And the process starts all over once you go into production and again, when you're editing. Yet each time, I dive in with the same enthusiasm that I started the pie, certain that this time, it will all come out exactly like the beautful picture in my head.

Juggling Time

2008-10-09T04:30:00.000-07:00

It's been three and a half weeks since we wrapped principal photography for the first half of "That's What She Told Me," a short film I directed. I'm also the editor on the film. The plan was to create a trailer with the footage we've shot, show it, and raise the rest of the money to complete the film. But as I started looking at the footage, I realized that I needed to edit together all of the scenes that I have before I can cut together a trailer. So I began, thinking it would take me about a month. In three and a half weeks, I've spent a total of 20 hours editing. And I'm only halfway done with the rough cut. It will probably take me at least another 20 hours to finish cutting the film before I can start on the trailer. Why so little time?

In that time, I've also had three school holidays, attended one high holy day service and held one family dinner for Rosh Hashanah, had four therapy appointments (me), two occupational therapy appointments (my son), one appointment in the burn unit (my father-in-law), one sick day (all of us), moved my kids into two separate rooms and painted both rooms, attended five meetings at the kids' school on volunteer projects, bought two birthday presents (the kids' friends), three other birthday presents (the kids and husband), took the kids to three piano lessons, designed and printed birthday invitations, designed and ordered Christmas cards (my husband is Jewish and I'm Protestant), and paid the bills. And that's just on the personal side.

In my other film work, I've had two phone meetings for film consulting, attended one artist networking event, submitted two film grants, put together a proposal for a potential producer for "Weeki Wachee Girls", did some re-writing on "Weeki Wachee Girls", read 12 pages in my writing workshop with Mick Casale of NYU's Tisch School of the Arts, and sent off "Flower of a Girl" to the Baltimore Women's Film Festival (playing Friday, Oct. 24 at 10:00 p.m.).

And I ask myself for the thousandth time, can I really keep doing this? So far, the answer is still "yes." Or maybe I'll just go back to bed.

On directing your own children

2008-09-24T18:27:00.000-07:00

I just have one thing to say, "DON'T DO IT!" Especially if you're the Mom (as opposed to the Dad.) A week and a half ago, I directed the first half of a wonderful short film called "That's What She Told Me." It was my first time directing a piece I hadn't written and the first time that I worked with women in all of the key positions. It was a fabulous experience, except for the morning I was shooting my daughter. Her role was to play the lead as a young girl, who is left on a park bench by her father while children play around her.

I talked to her about it a month ahead of time. On vacation we used Sun-In in her hair to get it light enough to take the red rinse. (She has light brown hair that needed to be red.) I was so excited that there was a role for my son as well. He got to play on the monkey bars. It all fell apart when my son found out that his best friend was coming and they would get to play together in the movie. My daughter broke down. "Why can't I play with someone in the movie.?" she said through her tears. So I explained. She was the star! It was an important role! The whole scene would be about her! Finally, I must have said something like "We can shoot some scenes where you get to play, too."

The day of the shoot started out promising. She played her part and did the same walking with Daddy scene about six times. The other kids played, mostly. We shot some more walking with Daddy scenes. Finally, she refused to do any more. I stopped shooting, took her inside and discovered she had a fever. I gave her Tylenol and talked to her in bed. (I'd been MIA for two days by that point.) We played Uno. Finally, I told her that I needed her to do one more thing and that was sit on a bench for two minutes. That was it. Otherwise, I wouldn't have a scene. She agreed, sort of. Luckily, the scene called for her to be unhappy. I have to cut out the parts where she's shooting me dagger looks.

The rest of the day went swimmingly. We were literally shooting underwater. We finished early. I got to put my kids to bed. All was right with the world.

Until today, where I finally put together a rough-cut of the park scene. I showed it to the kids. About halfway through, my daughter started crying. "You said I would get to PLAY in the MOVIE! Why didn't you let me play?" I started backpedaling. Stumbling, I probably made some other misguided half promises. And I swore to myself, "Never again." At least, not until next time.

Blogging and Flower of a Girl

2008-09-22T12:09:00.000-07:00

Despite growing up with a refrigerator magnet stating "Better to remain silent and thought a fool, than to speak up and remove all doubt," I've decided to start blogging. If you think me a fool, please keep it to yourself. If you like what I'm saying, please speak up!

I'm an indpendent filmmaker, a screenwriter and playwright who also happens to be the mother of (almost) 7-year-old twins. Needless to say, making all of those things work together is challenging, to say the least.

I'm starting this blog initially to introduce my film, "Flower of a Girl," a 5-minute experimental piece that once elicited the comment "That was terrible!" from an elderly woman in the audience at the 2006 Staten Island Film Festival. During the Q&A, when I spoke about what the film was about and how the woman and the teenager were related, my husband says that same woman turned to her friend and said, "I knew it!" Judge for yourself. The film can be seen in its entirety on imdb.

It is also playing at the 2008 Baltimore Women's Film Festival at 10:00 pm on Saturday, October 25 as part of an Experimental Shorts Program. I plan on being there, although it is the weekend that my twins turn seven and I'm expected to throw a birthday party. At home. For 20 kids. Yet another challenge. Somehow, with help and more than a little grace, I'll manage.