Original subtitles

Edith?

You okay in there?

Yes dear, I'm fine.

Do you need anything from the store?

Hurry up guys.

Clara, you're going to be late for school.

Orange juice perhaps?

Does Lady need food?

I don't know.

Okay, I'm closing the door now Edith.

It's not safe to leave it open.

I'm living in a fire trap.

Come on.

It's not a fire trap, that's a treasure trove.

There's stacks of stuff from the fifties.

Gally, it's a treasure trove.

Oh thank you.

Avery, we're going to have to move the car today, remember?

Right.

You sit in it with Lucas and hold our spot and I'll walk Clara over.

Right.

Good night sweetie.

Careful guys.

Careful.

Didn't I just clean this out last week?

Hey, check it out.

Look at those books.

Think we can get them before Mom notices?

No Avery, please.

Put your family's best interest first.

Think of the common good.

That's exactly what I'm doing.

That's exactly what I'm doing.

Can I have some?

Bonjour.

I wish I was French too.

It's my birthday tomorrow.

I'm going to be six.

I'm having my party up there tonight.

Really?

In your apartment?

For my sixth birthday.

We had a private marionette show.

I'm going to have ten friends.

My seventh was at the Swedish cottage.

First my mom said I could only have six friends because I'm going to be six.

Then Santa Pitty Three delivered frozen hot chocolate.

Then my dad talked her into letting me have ten.

Afterwards my friends and I got caradried in Central Park at sunset.

I'm going to have a triple layer cake with purple frosting.

And I'm going to have really cool goodie bags.

Right mom?

Not the goodie bags again.

Eliza, you are brave.

Really?

How so?

Just to live as you do.

You know, the stairs, the children, the car, the dog.

It's a bit exhausting.

No?

Is that your definition of brave?

Eliza, could you give me a hand with this buckle?

Mom, you forgot my backpack and I definitely need it before choice time.

Okay.

Eliza, are you wearing your nightgown?

Has it really come to this that I, Eliza K.

Welch, find myself humiliated in my nightgown in front of my neighbor's townhouse?

My husband has run Clara around the corner to

PS3 and I have exactly nine minutes to write.

How can a mother articulate her ideas with anything approaching

wit or conviction in such ridiculously tiny wedges of time?

Oh, it's Zach's mommy again.

Quit complaining, sanctimommy.

No one has any time.

Save your quest for self-expression until the kids go off to college.

Must a woman's soul wither and die simply because she opted to become a mother?

I want to finish the laundry and a complex sentence.

To think tantalizingly deep thoughts and throw

a magical birthday party for my daughter.

Is that truly too much to ask?

Tomorrow Clara turns six.

She's more than halfway to double digits.

She'll be going to college in 12 years.

It used to seem like a long time.

Now I could blink and it'd be over.

Speak your mind and become our resident mom-ologist with your very own column.

Worth up to $3,000 a month.

Runners up receive either $1,000 or at all expenses.

Or get a paid trip to this year's Mamapalooza.

The festival for moms who rock.

You gotta be kidding me.

Just send us 500 words telling us what motherhood means to you.

Oh my god.

Folks, coming up we're going to see the historic former home of Edna St.

Vincent Millay.

But first, get those cameras ready.

Excuse me, this is a neighborhood, people.

Not a theme park.

Get her picture, get her picture.

Here's the corner we all know and love from Friends.

Friends.

Though whenever you see an inside shot, that was

actually filmed on a sound stage in Los Angeles.

Hurry kids, hurry.

Hey.

Sheila.

Jill.

How are you?

What's shaking, babe?

Do I have Joan Crawford eyebrows?

Yeah, I applied pencil like it was a magic marker and then I didn't check.

Tell me the truth.

No, they look good.

They're, you know, zesty.

Zesty.

I have to have this in Clara's classroom.

My choice timer.

Sudden death for bad money.

Will you walk with me?

Sure.

Hey, do you want me to pick up Clara and bring her with us?

Because I know Trixie would love it.

But I thought Joel had the kids on Fridays.

Oh, he's in Santa Fe.

Oh, chasing another nubile potter?

I don't know.

Maybe.

Who cares?

I've really got to go for this, right?

I mean, there's something validating about having a real job, you know?

It's been a while.

Yeah, there's definitely something validating about having a real job.

I mean, especially one that actually pays you

more than the childcare required to do it.

And it has been a while.

You sure you're ready to move beyond our troves on organic snacks?

Completely.

But it gives me a chance to explore what it really means to become a mother.

And nobody talks about this stuff.

The sleep deprivation, the funks, the non-stop cleaning, the death lust.

I see Lunchbox Magazine flying off the stands.

Here's my first headline.

To thine own self be true.

Don't breed.

Too late.

Hi, Trixie.

Shit.

What?

Avery, I forgot you want a coupon.

Shit is right.

You better get home or you're going to find a deposit on your rug.

Avery?

Avery?

Avery?

This stuff is incredible.

Really.

Uh, Avery, um, did you forget something this morning?

What?

I don't know.

Who's essentially our firstborn.

You know, the one with the incontinence issues.

Oops.

Sorry.

The single most abused word in the English language.

Oops or sorry?

So, I'll sit with Lucas and you go get coupons.

Oh, no, no, no.

You can't do that.

I got an editorial meeting at 9.30.

If I don't leave now, I'm never going to make it.

No, no, no.

You never told me that.

Yes, I did.

I told you this morning while you were combing Clara's hair.

Don't worry.

I'll be back by 1.

No, but 1 is too late.

I don't think Coupon can hold it till then.

And he can't walk himself because he can't make it down the stairs anymore.

Holy moly.

Did you go to the cash machine at least?

Eliza, I wish you would stop talking to me like I'm impaired.

I did.

Yes, I did.

I'm sorry, okay?

It's just something I want to do today.

It's incredible.

It's this writing thing.

It could be just perfect for me.

And I guess I'll just figure out how to get it all done by myself.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

Edith?

I forgot your orange juice.

I'm sorry.

I'll bring you some more later.

Orange juice?

I don't eat any orange juice, dear.

Come closing the door now for you.

It's not safe to leave it open.

Okay.

Hurry up, Coupon.

Let's go.

Street sweeper.

Street sweeper.

Oh!

Oh, God!

Come on!

Get a Prius, New Jersey!

Go home, scumbag!

Good job!

Come on!

Good boy!

What, are you just gonna leave it there?

No!

I just... I gotta get my kid in the car so I can move

the car so the street cleaner can clean the street!

I'll pick it up later!

What if someone steps in it before then?

I'll call 3-1-1 and make a complaint.

Well, I haven't found that very effective, but you're my guest.

Here, honey.

You're not even gonna strap him in?

He'll break.

Now,

where the hell is this guy?

What's going on?

Every Tuesday and Friday you gotta move your car so they can clean the street.

Oh, except this one here.

They're from Jersey.

They leave it and then pay the ticket.

It's cheaper than a garage.

And that's it.

And the street sweeper can't get around!

Hey, move it, Volvo lady!

Move that friggin' car!

I can't!

I'll lose my spot!

Why doesn't everybody just back up?

Come on!

Just come around!

He can't move, you...

What is that woman doing?

She's nuts.

Look, that's her dog shit.

She just left it there.

Oh!

Give him hell!

Did you just say what I think you said?

Yeah, that's right.

You heard me.

You just used the C-word in front of a child, in front of a school!

Your mother must be very proud of you.

Hey, you leave my mother out of this.

No, she must be very, very proud that her son grew up to be... What do you do?

A roofing!

That her son's a roofer!

Hey, shut up, lady!

Impressive.

Do they give a degree in that?

Advanced shingling?

Hey, I said shut up!

I'm sorry that I insulted your profession.

Well, somebody's gotta fix roofs.

Right.

Agreed.

I mean, I'm one to talk.

I'm just trying to raise two kids in this god-forsaken

city that's the shadow of his former self.

Do you ever think about maybe moving out to the suburbs?

Like we could afford the taxes.

Yeah, I hear you on that.

I hear you on that.

He's escaping!

Somebody call the police!

Hey, you better get up there.

Oh!

Oh!

No!

Shoot him in the ass!

The car!

It's in a parking lot!

What are you doing?

Oh!

Oh, no, no, no.

Sorry.

Back you go.

Report her to social services!

Hey, cut the lady some slack.

Can you see she's having a hard day?

Lucas, sweetie, I am so sorry I left you all alone like that.

And Mommy's sorry she was smoking, too.

And yelling.

Smoking and yelling are two things that Lunchbox Magazine would tell you to avoid.

I'm sorry.

Mommy's just gonna, you know, just race around the block as fast as she can.

As quick as a rink.

A rink.

Oh, no.

I missed my spot.

Oh, no.

One sec.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

Excuse me.

Look, I'm sorry to bother you.

I know you're not napping because I saw you just pull into my spot.

It's not your spot.

But I live here.

You live in a West Village, so you can afford to park someplace else.

No, you can say that, but you'd be wrong, okay?

My apartment is right there.

Or rather, I should say, I live here.

Our apartments.

You've got more than one apartment?

They're rent-stabilized, and one is a studio.

Look, I'm throwing a birthday party for my daughter tonight.

And I need to park here so I can stash stuff in the car.

That is, if I can fit anything, considering my

husband has filled the back of the car with old books.

You see, he has this fantasy of starting an

online rare book business to enrich our lifestyle.

How about that?

Anyway, we live in a walk-up.

Oh, uh, come

on.

Oh my, what a wonderful house this would be.

I will live in it until the people who own it come for it.

And then, the little old man... Oh, that's us.

Okay.

Come on, sweetie.

Ah, okay.

Here we go.

Oh, you...

Come, sweetie, come.

Excellent sharing.

No, no.

Drop it.

That's made in China.

Hey, watch it.

He's a whole lot smaller than you.

Excuse me, did you just say something?

Did she say something to you, Jordan?

Look, I'm sorry, but your son nearly crushed my kid.

He's a whole lot bigger than... Are you saying my son's overweight?

I said big.

Actually, what I said was bigger.

Don't you dare ever speak to him again.

It's glandular.

No, Trish, Trish, you cook pot roast to 375.

Yeah.

And don't forget to mail the Con Ed bill.

Please.

Bye, Wally.

Yeah, okay, bye.

Jodi Foster alert.

Excuse me?

I swear to God.

It's Jodi.

She's coming in right now.

Over here, Jodi.

Who's the father?

I don't know.

Last week, I had a Sarah Jessica Parker sighting.

I've seen Julianne Moore, Kate Winslet, and James Gandolfini.

I swear, it's like a movie star playground.

I come in all the way from Scarsdale because, you know, you never know.

I could sell it to us, right?

Who's your baby daddy, Jodi?

There's a soup between the parasites.

Here you go, honey.

Got your jacket?

Should a mother really have to choose between simply getting

her kids some fresh air and being stalked by the mamarazzi?

Hey, Liza.

Hey, Lily.

Hey, Bodie.

Hey, honey.

What's for the hazmat suit?

Oh, this?

It's a UV protection robe.

I got it for Bodie off this website.

You make them in Australia because of the warming.

I hate to say this, but it kind of looks like a little baby Klansman.

Oh.

Well, it cuts out 99% of harmful rays.

I could send you the link if you want.

I got India a poncho off it.

Maybe Clara would want one.

You're welcome.

You're welcome.

It's okay.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to interrupt you.

No, no, I was just entering this contest.

Really?

What's the contest?

Let's write 500 words about what motherhood means to me.

What are you going to say?

Um, stuff, I guess.

I don't know, how motherhood is all about rainbows and unicorns and sunny days.

I've got something for you.

Okay.

Hey, do you want to borrow some?

It's cruelty and chemical free.

They make it in Oregon.

No, thanks.

Lily, what are you doing?

It's the most amazing book.

This pediatrician in Norway came up with a theory that if you really connect with

your child in this moment of pain, it calms them down.

It's really made a difference for me and Bodie.

Lily, will you excuse me for a second?

Oh, sure.

Are you feeling better?

Do you have the hiccups?

Let's look around and see what we see.

I think I see a little chipmunk.

Oh, that's not a chipmunk.

I don't have the faintest notion what motherhood means to me, you know what I mean?

Since when does a stroller have to cost as much as a car?

Okay, a used car.

Since the world has started breathing more.

What?

I can't believe...

They towed my goddamn car!

Oh, shut up!

Please leave your message at the beep.

Avery, where are you?

I'm freaking out, okay?

They're shooting on our block again.

They moved the cars.

Call me as soon as you get this.

I gotta go.

Bye.

Where is my car?

We have a resident here.

Copy that.

Who moved it?

Well, there's signs on all the posts.

Check them.

No parking today.

There were no signs when I left it here an hour ago.

Right there.

Ma'am, look.

Don't ma'am me.

I may technically be old enough to be your mother, but I am not a ma'am.

The cars were moved to a secure location on Barrow Street, all the way west.

Film crews are supposed to give 24-hour notice.

I can give you the number to the mayor's office

if you'd like to call and file a complaint.

Very helpful.

Great.

You're telling me that you towed my car and I have to bite it, right?

Ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to cross the street.

We're setting up here.

Hester, can you believe this?

I'm gonna piss in a pot and dump it on them later.

Out the window.

Splat.

Right on.

Danny, go to two.

Why is it that once you pass 35 and have a

kid in tow, you automatically become a ma 'am?

Ma 'am means support hose, a girdle, a bad perm.

I'll wear hot pants and platforms when I'm on

a walker, if only to avoid being called ma 'am.

Avery, Avery, Avery.

Answer your phone for me.

Answer your phone for once, Avery.

I used to be fluid.

I used to be, I don't know, graceful.

Now my words come out and they just sound like bad ad copy.

Well, maybe your brain's worn out from oversharing.

Sheila, just blog slam me when I'm down.

Avery lost his cell phone, by the way, the ultimate passive-aggressive act.

Avery would lose his scrotum if it wasn't attached.

Well, it's either that or he silenced it, which

is the most effective way of silencing me.

Ah, no longer my problem being silenced.

I mean, God forbid I ever raise the topic from Joel's top ten list of musts to avoid.

Like why you can't balance his checkbook.

Or vacuum.

Or remember the substitute teacher's name.

Or tolerate a single comment about September 11th at the dinner table.

God, maybe that's going to show up in the divorce papers.

Refuse to stop referencing traumatic event more than six years after the fact.

By the way, why can't she just get over it?

I'll tell you why.

Because you're always thinking, you're always wondering, what if?

I mean, have I done everything I could possibly do to stave off disaster?

Did I tell Clara how much I loved her this morning before school?

Just in case she never makes it home again.

Guys, you've got to stop.

I can't stop.

Well, as a fearless leader once said, when you can't stop, you must shop.

You know, the grand irony of the whole thing

is that the first time round, all I wanted...

Thank you.

Was Joel to leave me alone and not touch me.

Well, that was because you joined me.

And saved.

And I have to pee every five seconds.

Which is better than peeing all over yourself.

Which is what you do after you give birth.

Yeah, the cruel twist of fate is that at this time, all I want to do is shag.

And there is nobody to shag me.

She got pregnant through sympathy sex.

Her husband felt guilty after he ran off, so he sent the kids

out with a sitter, got a bottle of wine, and jumped on her.

Shagged me madly.

Got her pregnant.

And then he left her.

Hey.

I need to pray.

Hey, you guys.

This is nice.

It's pretty, huh?

For a six year old.

I've got to tell you something.

It does not leave this room.

Okay, so last night, I got the kids to bed at about nine.

And I ran a bath.

Which would have been really lovely, except they

only had that strawberry shortcake bubble bath.

So I'm lying there.

In the bath.

Yeah, naked.

All right.

What?

Good.

You know the little motorized submarine bath toys?

Yeah.

You know them.

What?

You know, they look a bit like dildos.

It was lovely, and it was amazing.

Uh-huh.

It was lovely and amazing.

Very lucky with the submarine.

Oh.

Okay, all right, look.

The moment of reckoning.

Lay it on me.

Where would I wear this?

Parenthetical.

Okay.

What about...

this one?

Well, that's for the date that's never going to happen, isn't it?

Or in case, you know, you ever feel like enticing the spousal unit.

Do ya?

Okay, how about this one?

Oh, that's nice.

That's for keeping cozy at your desk.

Cozy at my desk doing what?

Don't ask me, love.

I'm just here for fashion advice.

I can't solve your life crisis.

Better go check out the size 29.

What does it say about the world when a perfectly attractive woman like my best

friend Sheila has to resort to wanking off with her son's bath toy?

Oh.

Even if she is seriously pregnant it somehow seems unjust.

Motherhood is not knowing what's going to hit you next.

Motherhood is a day in May.

A hot air balloon.

God's gift to womankind.

What about when your child's hand is still so small that

he or she puts that hand in yours with absolute trust?

Their incredibly soft cheeks when you kiss them.

The way their foreheads sweat when they're sleeping and the hair sticks to it.

The hilariously weird things they say when they're learning to talk.

The way you save their lost teeth after they fall out and you've done your tooth

fairy routine like some demented Nazi because you can't

stand to give up any part of them no matter how tiny.

Oh, sorry I'm late.

Morris needed the final edit on the Albania manuscript.

Jesus, you know, I had to plow through a bunch of extras

with really bad mustaches just to get to the front door.

Did you notice that our car got towed?

Yes, I did.

I've been trying to call you.

Really?

Oh yeah, look at that.

Eight missed calls.

Ringer must have been off.

So, uh, did you have something you needed to tell me?

Nothing I couldn't figure on my own.

You have no idea how lucky you are to be married to ask her.

But I do know.

Hey, can you please take him across the hall?

I need to put in another half an hour.

I'm just beginning to get somewhere.

Really?

Good.

Is that Paul?

I think that's Paul.

Did I miss her?

No.

Hi, sweetie.

Is your sister there?

Where is she?

Oh, there she is.

Hi!

Hi, Clara!

Oh, God.

Clara!

It's your last day of being five.

Oh, no.

Avery, Avery.

Avery Lucas is here.

Didn't you notice?

Put him in front of the Teletubbies.

He'll be paralyzed for an hour.

No, no, no.

I'd love to, but I can't.

I have a deadline and a party for him.

Remember?

Yeah.

Abe, can I borrow your bike?

Sure.

Oh, can you read my draft?

Can you explain to me what it is again?

Yes.

I'm submitting a piece to a parenting magazine.

It's a contest.

I mean, it's kind of a real gig.

But I can't get into that right now.

It's only 500 words.

It's a first draft.

But no, I feel like it's solid.

You know, something I could put my name to and feel good about it.

I left a copy on my desk.

Sure.

And Avery?

Nothing.

Just be honest.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

Bye.

Shit.

I

want the big Spider-Man Iron Man.

No!

I told you it's $39.

I want the big one!

It's too much money now!

Come on!

I told you, you can't have it!

Portahead, stop it!

That's enough!

Come on!

Flora!

Flora, get back over here!

Hey, come on!

Flora?

Flora, get back over here!

Yeah, Sheila, I've got the backpack.

I'm doing my Sherpa routine.

Do you think our children have any idea how we slept on that bar?

Absolutely not.

Hey, you can't cut the line!

Wait your turn!

Look, I gotta get out of here.

I just waited 20 minutes for some moron to blow up balloons.

Well, you can't cut the line.

I've gotta go pick up my twins from preschool in 10 minutes.

They'd find you if you're late.

What the hell's going on?

Crazy, crazy, now showing everywhere.

Hang on, I'm just gonna get my tea.

Hi, yes, this is Allison Hopper.

Sorry, I'm just gonna be a weensy bit late picking up Skye and Banjo this afternoon.

Sorry about that.

So, Sheila, I'm feeling... Why do I even care if I win this contest?

I'm addressing such a narrow sector of the population.

Move up, the line moved.

Not as narrow as the one you're addressing now.

Where are you?

Getting goody bag stuff.

So much for sticking to your principles.

So much for sticking to your principles.

Some freakazoid is bothering me.

Freakazoid?

What the hell is your problem?

What the hell is your problem?

Sheila, I'm gonna call you back, okay?

No, no, no.

Listen, I wasn't speaking very loudly in the first place, okay?

I believe in cell phone etiquette.

You introduced your conversation into my personal space,

thus violating any commonly held definition of etiquette.

Is that so?

Move it, move up.

Did you know that 90% of cell phone users believe they're courteous, while 85% of

those same users complain about being annoyed by others' conversations?

Those numbers really don't add up, do they?

Why don't we have this conversation in 20 years when

you've learned a thing or two about the real world?

Oh, you mean when I'm old?

Even you, my friend, will turn 40.

You know what?

You urban moms are like a case study in liberal hypocrisy.

You think the rules apply to other people, but never to you.

You blab your precious banalities into cell phones.

You buy gluten-free snacks that have no comprehension of your carbon footprint.

I'd like to shove my carbon footprint right up your ass.

Come on, you're up, you're up!

Can you believe this dickhead?

Have a good day.

I'm sorry.

Mommy, she's a dickhead.

She

likes to wake up and just fake it.

She knows if she touches it she'll break it.

She can see all the house lights fading.

And the ground beneath her feet is shaking.

She's singing.

But that's not her name.

Yes, it is.

It says it right here on the order form.

Clara.

Her name is Clara.

Look, see?

Clara.

Not Clara.

Well, our froster's on a cigarette break, so...

Well, can't someone else fix it?

All you have to do is just scrape off the ruh, right?

And rewrite it in matching icing so it doesn't look like an accident.

The froster can do that.

Look, I have to go home.

I mean, I have to set up.

So come back.

We're open till midnight.

I can't come back.

The party is at five.

Ugh.

You have to admit it's your own fault.

If you had named her Sophie or Ella, you wouldn't be having this problem.

But you gave her an Edna name.

A what?

You know, an Edna name.

Like Mabel or Agnes or Velma.

Don't you read the Cranky Pants post?

She did a whole thing last week about names.

It was genius.

Well, yes.

I mean, I do read her.

But, um, I like other parenting blogs better.

What about the Bjorn Identity?

That woman is so... I don't know.

I think she's a feminist.

Well, what could be worse than that?

Anyway, Clara's not an Edna name, right?

Let me guess.

You named her after your favorite grandmother.

Stop.

When my ship comes in I'm gonna squeeze it in a bottle Throw it back in the water And

send it off to sea When my ship comes in I'm gonna break this holy bottle And

christen the ocean To whom it may concern I've waited all my life And I'm waiting

still Put it to the spot on the steepest hill.

They said that there's a way if you have the will.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

I live here.

Do you know if there's a McKendrick in 6C?

Yes, I do.

6C and 6B.

You try the buzzers?

Yeah.

What?

Oh no.

No.

Avery!

What?

Classic!

How am I going to get this shit off stairs?

I'm going to stash it in my car.

Which I like to call my roving metal purse.

It's parked right over there.

But then...

Then this came.

This invasion of the block snatchers.

I've got to throw a party for my daughter at 5.

I don't know where my husband has gone.

He has this habit of disappearing right when I need him the most.

Just... I'll sign for it, okay?

You've got a lot to carry.

So, Nikesh, you a messenger full time?

Of course not, no.

I write.

Don't we all?

Write what?

Plays.

Well, sort of.

I guess you'd call them quietly domestic plays set in India.

Huh.

Cool.

Yeah, I tried to find a job that would occupy the least amount of mental space

and be so opposite my true aesthetic intentions that it wouldn't get in the way.

You know?

Does that work for you?

Most of the time.

How do you do this every day?

I'm winded, man.

Lightweight.

My daughter is a nicotine Nazi.

They do all this anti-smoking propaganda in school.

Which is good, I guess.

But, uh, my position is everything in moderation.

Which is hard to explain to a kid, you know?

Give me a second.

Edith?

You okay in there?

Who is it?

Ah.

It's me, Eliza.

Got your juice.

Some food for lady.

Ah.

Edith.

Do you need something to eat?

No, dear.

What day is today?

It's Friday.

May 25th.

May 25th.

May 25th.

What's MWI?

Okay, Edith.

Gotta go.

Just right next door.

If you need me.

I'm right there.

Bye.

Wow.

Wow, indeed.

Well...

Hey, Cash.

Thank you for carrying all this stuff up for me.

You really saved me.

Oh, phew.

I'll take that letter for Avery.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Um...

This was really nice of you.

Um...

Do you, uh...

Well...

Oh, you must be thirsty.

Do you want a glass of water?

Yeah.

Okay?

Yeah.

Let me get that.

Oh.

You're so kind.

All right.

Sorry for this heinous mess.

Oh, no.

I was...

The view across your rooftops is so poetical.

You should see where I live.

Bushwick, man.

It's a little grim.

Well, you're... You're what?

You're, uh...

How old?

Twenty-two.

Oh.

You can deal with Bushwick.

Yeah.

All right, then.

When you get to be my age...

Forty-four.

Wow.

Well, you look fantastic.

Actually, I'm not quite forty-four.

I'm, um...

I just lied.

I think I was hoping that you just might say that.

The point is, when you get to be my age, the view becomes less poetical in

relationship to other aspects of living here.

One door on, one door off.

Is this some kind of artistic statement?

Uh, this is one of Avery's renovation projects.

Look closely, and you'll find similar statements elsewhere.

Like his perennially disorganized personal library.

He seems interesting, your husband.

Oh, he is.

He's... He's eccentric.

And I, um...

I fell in love with those eccentricities, you know?

But, uh, then you have kids and try to lead what's called, uh, grown-up life.

And those sort of things become obstacles to a sane existence.

So you used to be a writer, too.

Well, this is you, no?

Y-yes, um...

Or a version of me.

I'd really appreciate it if you... She woke up with a taste of blood in her mouth.

The memory of the night before hit her full force.

Inexorable.

Swift.

Like fast water moving over rocks, she was concerned that...

Yeah, that was my thing.

That kind of, uh, fiercely lyrical fiction.

I got scholarships for it.

I was considered to be kind of an up-and-comer.

I loved writing.

I still do.

It's just, you know, when you have kids...

I still write.

Sort of.

On more, um...

everyday topics.

It's just...

How come you're being so nice to me?

I saw you go to that woman next door.

I saw you give her that juice very easily.

Very selflessly.

Why can't I be nice, too?

Besides...

You're very pretty.

Um... Tell me something else.

About what?

About being a writer.

Oh, well, um...

I used to write record reviews.

Um, when I was first in college, and after I

graduated, for these little downtown newspapers.

None of which really exist anymore.

To get free albums.

Vinyl.

Yeah.

Now I'm really dating myself.

I mean, Avery is really into music.

He turned me on to lots of bands.

I mean, some you've heard of, and probably some you know.

But I never have.

Like what?

Oh, um... I don't know.

You can play me something.

Oh.

Really?

Yeah.

Um...

Okay.

You want to hear something great?

Yeah.

So, spare and basic.

Pile up.

Oh, turn it up!

No, no, no, no, no.

My downstairs neighbor is this hideous tool,

and they'll just start banging on the pipes.

Hey.

Fantastic.

Yeah.

It's great.

Well...

Oh, look.

I gotta get things finished up around here.

Before my husband gets back.

But you've been a real...

lifesaver.

Yeah?

Absolutely.

Well, I'd love to read your fiction sometime.

Do you have anything more recent?

No.

Not at the present moment.

No.

At the present moment, uh...

my life is...

extremely reality-based.

But I do plan to get back to it at some point.

No.

I mean, I will.

As my favorite grad school professor used to say, there is no try.

There is only...

do...

and do not.

Well...

Nikesh.

It's been incredibly nice to meet you.

Thank you.

What?

Sheila?

What is it?

What did I do?

Are you upset you know?

What are you talking about?

You used my name!

You used my name!

No, what?

Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?

Where are you?

I'm here!

Sheila, Sheila, hold on.

I'm coming down.

No, don't come down.

Don't bother.

Are you so hard up for something to say, that you have to use one of your closest

friends' most personal and private experiences just

to make yourself seem more clever and insightful?

Oh, Christ.

Sheila, I didn't mean to.

Yeah, but you did.

It doesn't matter, Eliza.

Oh, God.

I thought other single moms would relate.

Oh, so wait.

Now I'm your token single mom.

No, no, no.

Other moms too, okay?

Married moms.

I mean, they can be sympathetic.

Oh, they can feel sorry for me too.

Well, that's great.

So everybody can feel sorry for me.

I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me.

I'm a grown up.

I've made a grown up choice.

And by the way, married women don't have a whole lot of sex either.

And you should have gotten out.

I just... I'm coming down.

Just hold on.

Don't come down.

I'm late.

I've got to go and get the kids.

No, Sheila.

No, don't come down.

Sheila!

Sheila!

Are you still bringing Clara, because if you don't...

Of course I'm still bringing Clara.

What do you think... Oh, God.

You think I'm going to punish a child on her almost birthday just because her

mother's got a big fucking mouth and no sense of discretion?

Sheila, just please, just don't judge me, okay?

I mean, it's not your job.

I'm sorry, okay?

I mean, I made a mistake.

Yeah, you sure did.

You sure bloody did, babe.

We're sleeping, now we wake up, I think of Mary.

We've got things to do.

We've got to do things to ourselves.

There's just one problem, can we share it?

Mary is the one.

It's a game of soul.

I think it's a game of soul.

I think it's a game of soul.

What?

What the hell?

Why do you keep hanging up on me, Eliza?

I'm not Eliza.

No, no, this is that woman who only knows how to be banal, right?

What are you talking about?

If you don't even remember writing that, Avery, I'm not only leaving town,

I'm filing for divorce right now.

Leaving town?

Where are you?

I just turned.

I'm on... I'm on...

You're breaking up.

Oh, God.

I can't... I can't hear you.

You're breaking... There's a cop, Avery.

I don't want a ticket.

We can't afford another ticket.

Okay, I know, I know, I know.

Look, Eliza, you can't leave town.

Too late.

Why are you so upset?

You told me to be honest about that thing.

Well, there's honest, and then there's debilitating,

Avery, and apparently you don't know the difference.

Maybe I don't know the difference.

And just ask Sheila.

Her opinion of me is not much... much better than yours at this point.

What is Sheila?

What does Sheila have to do with this?

Don't even ask.

I have to steer.

You know, you used to like it when I was tough on you.

You... you wanted me to do that.

Well, somehow tough got a whole lot less appealing today when I had to run around

absorbing an entire city's worth of random hostility.

Well, it's not like you don't radiate your own.

The point is, I had something to write.

Something important to me, if not to you.

Yeah?

So why did you go shopping with your friends?

Because it was the last day of the sample sale.

And I got a $380 dress for $40.

That's why, Avery.

Maybe I should just give it all up and wear mom jeans.

What the hell are mom jeans?

Not like you'd notice anyway.

You want to know one of the few benefits of 9-11?

Excellent cell phone reception in the tunnels.

Okay, Eliza.

Just stop, okay?

And listen to me.

This isn't funny, really.

What is Clara going to say when she gets home and you're not there?

Who does she care?

She's got her goody bags full of plastic crap I bought against my better judgment.

She's got her cake with a misspelled name, which I corrected myself.

She's got her purple cups and plastic forks.

What does she need me for?

Are you serious?

I'm not only serious.

I'm in Jersey.

You're in... hold on, wait.

What?

What?

I think he swallowed something.

Swallowed what?

Avery!

Avery, what did he swallow?

I think he's choking.

Avery, don't put your finger in his surgery.

I think you can stick it down further.

Yeah, right.

Well, what do I do?

We went to that class together.

Don't you remember?

No, no.

I don't remember.

What do I...

You have to stay calm.

Avery, please.

Please just... Put him over your knee.

I can't get him out of the stroller.

Put him over your knee and hit him three times on his back.

What do I do now?

I got him on my knee?

Hit him firmly on the back three times.

Okay, hold on.

Come on.

Just spit it out, all right?

Avery, I can't hear you.

Come on.

Come on, Lucas.

Spit it out.

Spit it out.

Avery, what are you doing?

Avery!

Shit!

Shit, shit, shit!

Oh, Lucas!

Oh, my God!

I'm coming!

Yeah, it's fine.

It came out.

It's fine.

It's just a lollipop.

And it's all right.

What could possibly possess you to give a toddler a known choking hazard?

Don't lecture me, Eliza.

I could just as easily lecture you.

Really?

For what?

For doing all the idiotic errands?

For listening to mothers in the park who need to be medicated?

While you get to go to work with real adults... and have normal adult conversation?

Yeah, like having Morris ream me out because

I had to leave work to take care of Lucas?

You mean those kind of normal adult conversations?

You got an envelope at home today, by the way.

Some messenger guy delivered it.

Oh, yeah.

Right.

He...

He helped me carry my bags upstairs, and so I let him come in for a while.

Your what?

I let him come in, and he blew up balloons.

You let a messenger come into our apartment and decorate for our daughter's birthday?

His name was Nikesh, and he was just being nice.

He looked at me like I was a person who might still have something worthwhile to say.

I always tell you that you have something worthwhile to say.

You...

You need a stranger to tell you that?

Or was he good looking?

He looked at me like I might still be somebody worth looking at.

How could you not know that you're worth looking at?

Were you attracted to him?

Were you?

It's just... You never...

look at me that way anymore, Avery.

Do you look at me that way?

No, not really.

Not enough.

But I still love you, Avery.

I really love you, but...

What?

It's just that...

every day...

from the second I wake up...

to the second I pass out cold...

my day, like the day of almost every other mother I know, is made up of a series of

concrete, specific actions.

And they're actions that kind of...

wear away a passion, if you know what I mean.

The actions are petty and small, like... like...

like refilling coffee cups or folding underwear.

But they accumulate in this really...

debilitating way that diminishes my ability...

to focus on almost anything else.

Bigger things like... you know, ideas or...

politics or...

dreams of a better life.

What would be a better life?

It wasn't always my ambition...

to supervise a team of...

fatuous liberal arts graduates... and edit their copy...

about traveling to places that we can't afford to visit.

When we had Clara...

I got a job with healthcare... and...

a little bit of flexibility.

It was a decision that we made.

You know, we made the decision together.

So I got a job...

that I can tolerate.

No more... no less.

You're not the only one who's made sacrifices... Eliza.

But that still doesn't explain... why you can't pick up your socks.

What do my socks have to do with it?

Your socks have everything to do with it.

Eliza...

All I wanted you to do in that piece...

was to stop hiding behind irony.

Because it comes so easily to you.

I want to know... what you really think.

I want to know what you really feel.

What makes you... want to live... a life with passion?

No matter how many socks you have to pick up.

How about that?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

Is Lily crying back in his face?

Unfortunately, yes.

Did Sheila come back?

Not yet.

Don't worry.

You were right, you know.

Unbelievable.

About what?

About this.

But I think I figured it out.

I just need a little more time, just a couple more minutes and I'll be done.

Everything's under control in here.

Mom, everybody wants cake now!

And there's gonna be six purple candles and one number six candle.

Okay.

Come here.

What are you hiding?

Just this thing.

Has to be done by midnight.

It's kind of important.

Means Mommy might get a real job.

But I don't want you to get a real job.

Why not?

It's good when mommies work.

It keeps mommies happy.

Keeps them from being mean, nasty, yelling mommies.

What about daddies?

And should daddies not work too?

Why moms and not dads?

Enlighten me.

Because moms do everything.

Dads only do some things.

It's different.

Oh, hi, lady.

Mom, for my seventh birthday, can I get a cat?

Mom, can I?

Lady?

Lady, where are you?

Mom?

Maybe is the best I can do.

Okay?

No peeking.

Here it comes.

Happy birthday to you.

Cha, cha, cha.

Happy birthday to you.

Cha, cha, cha.

Happy birthday, dear Clara.

Cha, cha, cha.

Happy birthday to you.

Cha, cha, cha.

Are you one?

Are you two?

Parties we used to have in this building here.

I can't tell you.

Everyone would drink gin and smoke reefer and dance and talk until dawn.

We used to argue a lot, too.

This was a very political crowd, very serious about their positions, don't you know?

No one would have dreamed of complaining then.

Clara!

Clara!

Crank it up!

Come on, everybody, let's jump!

Jump as hard as you can!

Jump as hard as you can!

Jump, jump, jump!

Come on, everybody, let's go!

Come back!

Come back, come back!

So, your part is a big success.

Well, until someone starts bleeding, I'd have to agree.

Sheila, I just...

I am so incredibly sorry I hurt you.

Look, I do remember uttering the distinct phrase, this does not leave this room.

And by that I meant, do not use this episode for your own ends.

Be that as it may, we always promised that we'd tell each

other the minute we got pissed off, and that's just what I did.

All right, steady on, steady on, hair in the lip gloss.

I thought I was doing it, I was just telling you

when I was pissed off when it actually happened.

I know.

You were just...

You were just so funny about it, you know, I just...

I didn't think.

Oh, but you always have to think, Liza.

Oh, bloody hell.

My midwife told me if I carry on eating sugar all through my third trimester,

I'm going to give birth to a ten-pound behemoth.

Maybe not.

Maybe twelve.

That would be extremely uncomfortable to push out vaginally.

Don't say vaginally.

You did a stupendous job pulling everything together today.

I did, didn't I?

I hope you don't mind, because I know how you feel about these things, but I did get

Clara the purple iPod shuffle that she wanted.

You did?

That's kind of an expensive present for a six-year-old.

I mean, it's not really in our economy, is it?

It's in our economy today.

The envelope.

It came with the messenger.

Your friend, Nikesh.

You didn't open it, did you?

It was addressed to you.

This is a check for $24,000, Avery.

What did you do?

You know those books that were being thrown out today?

One of them happened to be a copy of Emerson's essays.

A first edition, which, as you know, is incredibly rare.

And this first edition also happened to be

inscribed, which significantly upped the value.

So I took it to Odyssey, and I sold it.

But you love Emerson.

You love that book.

You didn't want to keep it?

Yeah.

Of course I wanted to keep it.

I even had a messenger over the check.

It seemed kind of classy.

I figure it's probably enough to pay for Lucas' preschool for a couple of years.

And maybe even a dishwasher.

Because I want you to take some time and write.

Your memoir, whatever the hell you call it, or something else.

This is...

This is for you.

Because you...

Of course.

This is for me.

With

this somewhere safe.

Motherhood is about accepting the limitations of time and energy,

which stretch beyond you, even though sometimes it feels like they could consume you.

Search for and hold onto your own true self.

If you lose that, what kind of mother can you be?

Things are always changing, no matter how much we might want things to stay the same.

You could take a picture of your kids every single

day, and every single day they'd just be getting older.

That's a fact.

A heartbreaking fact.

But still a fact.

So seize your days and dwell in them fully.

Look to your children because they know how to

inhabit brief periods of time with extreme passion.

And for nothing more really than the sake of those moments.

They can help you remember that.

If you only slow down and let them.

Feel fortunate.

Because chances are good.

You actually might be.

It is!

It's special moving rain.

For your birthday.

Oh my god, it's piss!

Come out of here!

Don't say I didn't warn ya!

No, Hester!

Bouncy!

And action!

Come here!

Whoa!

Look at the movie down there.

Can you see it?

It's a big one.

Oh my god!

Let's go.

Let's go!

Remember

we made

on New Year's Eve

Pretending ballin' You had a band of young It

was easier than a long

time ago Oh

I hear you had twins What you wanna do?

What you wanna do?

I'm just asking.

I'm just asking you.

To you.

It ended in tragedy.