My career as a playwright has absolutely been impacted by my kids. In fact my kids and my husband will ask before they go into the theatre, "Is there anything you need to tell us about this before we sit down. In the dark. And see or hear ourselves on that stage?". Of course they hear themselves, and see themselves -- they are part of the plot and they are the characters most prominently in my life, But sometimes I make stuff up, too. Being a playwright and a mom was also part of the decision to start a theatre in my 40's -- a theatre that only produces ten minute plays, because let's face it, that was what MY attention span has become. I guess all that late in life nurturing just spilled into the nurturing of a theatre. And, like Nan, my kids too wound up underfoot in my theatre offices more often than my kitchen. But as David points out, the kids do grow up and move along, and time shifts, and opens up again to the possibilities where I now find myself sitting down and writing plays again. And there's so much to write about that I never would have lived through to make up if it wasn't for my family. Thanks for this column -- especially the part about remember to put on my Sam Fucking Shepard Big Boy Boots.

Sam Shepherd has something like 5 kids. How many exactly? Not sure, but more than 3 and less than 7. And he had his first when he was young and scrappy. So the advice to channel Sam Shepherd is entirely sound.

News flash: there is employment discrimination against mothers (and to a lesser extent, but still real, fathers too) in ALL FIELDS. There is a reason there is a law against firing an employee because she's pregnant: it used to be the norm. My mother was simply summoned to her boss's office and told when her last day would be once she started to show. It wasn't even considered a hostile thing to do. She needed the job so she hid the pregnancy as long as she could but that's a losing game. So this is a pervasive problem, not an arts-specific one.

I have become very, very good at clicking into work mode whenever I need to. Gone are the long stretches of time for procrastinating and hand-wringing before I would finally knuckle down to the rewrite at hand. I've discovered I can get to work without all that angst. I can just sit down and start. And since that's the ONLY part of the process I can control, I try to make the most of it. I'm barely at the edge of figuring out how to handle the more public part of my career in my new reality, but I'm working on it. It's good to know there are others out there doing this, too.

Oh California Girl and Catherine -

First of all, yes be very scared because yes discrimination against parents, well MOTHERS and some fathers, but MOTHERS REALLY, exists at every turn and too many people think becoming a parent, a "Mom", makes you soft, makes you want to write about soft things, like you push out that 7-pounder with a big head and instant primal needs and suddenly triple-ply toilet paper and little pink bunnies are the most fascinating thing to you -- instead of the fact that you just did something that causes more pain, physical and psychological pain, than most men -- or anyone but MEN REALLY -- could ever comprehend. You just offered the antidote to, you know, terrorism and murder and violence of every sort -- this birth in the face of so much -- so, really, you know what it's like to transcend pain, which is really what all of f-in theatre and film and television EATS UP. But the world pretends you don't know that and that suddenly your interests and abilities are more narrow than ever when IT'S THE OPPOSITE. Anyway, here's the deal. Despite all this....

You have Sarah Ruhl, Emily Mann, Kathleen Tolan, Susan Yankowitz, Kate Fodor, Lynn Nottage, Karen Hartmen, Heather Raffo, Jen Maisel, Tanya Barfield, Julia Jordan, Aditi, Heather, AND MANY MANY MANY MORE who defy this apparent not-so-norm. Who juggle and perform acrobatics of time, money, and imagination and remain some of the most relevant, exciting playwrights I know. And oh by the way, Emily Mann took over the McCarter in part because she was a mom, not despite of it. So here's an idea - TAKE OVER A THEATRE and program only parent-writers for two seasons. See how that impacts rehearsal structure, housing, union agreements, and beyond. In addition, see whether the stories reach a broader, more diverse public. Because there's a large swath of the American and World experience informed by parenting that is absent on our stages and on our screens of all sizes.

Ok, that's my response... oh and ps -- thank you for asking. THANK GOD someone is asking.....

A few things you might be able to use:

1. They grow up and move into own lives, much sooner than you will want. So trust and patience with your playwright self. She'll be there when your time and attention open up again.

2. Encourage napping. Long naps for the young ones. make it seem cool and essential, these naps, and keep that up til they start school. I was so productive in those nap times- nothing like the quiet of a house with a napping child. I felt so awake to myself in those hours.

3. Make your home the place their friends come to play. Fill the place with playing kids. And get out your notebook and follow your own thoughts as they play. Sure, there's more cleaning and more refereeing and more nurse-y work to do, but there's no guilt and no pressure to WRITE NOW BECAUSE SHE IS ON A PLAY DATE. And then, just down the road, those parents will also reciprocate for the big moments when your Writer self needs them.

4. Write plays about parenting. There are not enough of enough of them.

5. Remember you will miss them when they are gone to their own lives. And write things now that they'll cherish when they get there.

And you are right. Don't talk about them in the theater. Until they are in their own lives, at any rate... 

But do keep writing about them here. We are delighted by your journey!

I highly recommend finding the love of your life who already has grown children. You get to have all the benefits of lovely daughters you didn't have to raise, but who will hang out with you and don't impinge on your career one iota.

If that's not in the cards, however, and you want children in your life, have them. There are always things that get in the way of your career. Many writers also work full time. They'd love not to have to work, but bills must be paid. Few people get to write full time with no other interruptions, the gift is that you get to choose this one. If you're questioning children, I'd first make sure you really do want them, and the career question isn't actually a cover for the very natural fear of "will I be a good parent?"

Another way to look at it might be to ask yourself, what will having children bring to my life? How will those experiences make me a better writer? A more thoughtful, compassionate person?

I had a lovely discussion today with a man with 4 grown children. He says they are the greatest gift in his life. And he's putting all 4 through college. I will never be able to say that. I'm fine with my choice, but how will you feel in 20 years with yours?

Maybe not helpful - but my 2 cents. (as a writer with 2 cats, 1 dog & 2 lovely soon-to-be stepdaughters)