TUTA Theatre Chicago's The Silent Language.

People, people, there is so much good theatre going down around Chicago this month. But right up there at the tippety-toppest is TUTA Theatre Chicago’s darkly comedic fairy tale The Silent Language, directed by Jacqueline Stone; meaning, seriously, don’t miss this one. The U.S. premiere- written by Serbian playwright Miodrag Stanisavljevic and translated by Zoran Paunovic- is TUTA’s first foray into performances intended for younger audiences. And it’s spot on.

Poor Gasho (Max Lotspeich) plays the guitar in TUTA's The Silent Language
Photo credit: Anthony Robert LaPenna

Based on an old Serbian folk tale called Nemusti Jezik, the story concerns Gasho (an energetic and youthful Max Lotspeich), a poor servant who receives a gift of the silent language. This gift enables him to communicate with all things in nature, the things that often go unheard and overlooked. As he sets off on a quest to rescue a princess being held captive by the “threest” elf king (Aaron Lawson, hilarious and bumbling), Gasho finds himself both helped and hindered by the inhabitants of the fairy tale’s forest. The terrific ensemble also includes Sean Ewert (quietly terrifying as The Boogeyman), the hilarious trio of Jamielyn Gray, Angela Bullard, and Laurie Larson, and Carolyn Molloy as the plucky and desperate princess.

Designer Michelle Lilly’s set is lushly decorated with a mix of shabby-chic Victorian details, draped tapestries, and elements of nature all gorgeously woven together. Coupled with Wain Parham’s evocative original score, it’s impossible to not become fully immersed in this magical land. Geared towards theatergoers aged 8 and up, The Silent Language is a show that adults will truly love as well.

TUTA Studio Theatre

2010 W. Fulton Ave, Chicago

April 19^th- May 19^th, 8pm (no show Saturday, May 4^th)

1.800.838.3006

www.brownpapertickets.com

www.tutato.com

April Date: Folk Music And Empanadas And No Falling Asleep.

With all of the madness and world events and still jet-lagged children, I wasn't sure we'd manage a Date Night this month. However, P.J. wasn't about to end his streak o' dately awesome since Christmas- and surprised me with tickets to see Hem at The Old Town School of Folk Music. (Which, if y'all locals haven't managed to see a show there, do it. 'Cause it's the loveliest.)

Hem, a terrific folk band, hasn't toured in about six years and is now promoting their newest album. Which. Is. Lovely. Peej scored a table right in front of the stage, where we snacked on the obvious concert choice of empanadas and tea. (We are exactly one hundred and ten years old.)

Dawn Landes opened for Hem, and played a great acoustic set. She later came back to play with Hem- who played for nearly two hours. They performed some hits and fan favorites like Half Acre, and some new favorites like Identical Snowflakes (a beautifully adorable song about snowflakes who fall in love and decide to fall to the ground together- and which had me weeping like a toddler) and Last Call- a song about reminiscing at an ocean front bar. (Which served to make me want to be a) toasting with cocktails and b) near the Atlantic.) There was even a singalong (and everyone loves that) and P.J. and I were sure we were about to be hired for the rest of Hem's tour as lazy backup singers.

Definitely a chill date night, but one where we held hands and enjoyed just being still for the first time all week. (Month?)

And again, there were empanadas.

A Party, Some Chubby Toddler Legs, And Wal-Mart's White Cloud Diapers.

(I'm thrilled to have had the opportunity to work with Wal-Mart and receive their new White Cloud diapers for Susannah to try out. This is a sponsored post, but all thoughts and opinions are my own.)

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This past Wednesday I hosted a bevy of Chicago-area mamas and their adorable offspring for a party featuring Wal-Mart’s reintroduced line of White Cloud diapers. And what a crew! While the kiddos snacked and dashed and snuggled, the Moms tested the new diapers- and braved a couple of hilarious baby shower games. 

There was a race to see who could down a baby bottle [full of water, nothing too cray, here]. Turns out, those newborns have some serious drinking abilities with those teensy bottles. (It took me way longer than I’d like to admit.) And how about Guess That Baby Food? (Sniffing in the diaper?) LeTroy over at Thriftinista In The City took the brave to a whole new level- and tasted the thing. Automatic winner.

Winner.

And there were plenty of chubby diaper-clad legs running around, showcasing the White Cloud diapers to their maximum cuteness. We all agreed that the softness factor was a major plus, and I personally was stoked that this incredibly affordable line didn't cut corners in the comfort department. I also dug that the diapers are hypoallergenic and fragrance free- anyone else have a rashy baby in the house? And finally, the best thing about these redesigned White Cloud diapers is that they work. An ultra-absorbent inner core and reinforced cotton sides guarantee that I’m not gonna need to bring three pairs of toddler pants every time we leave the house.

Because hey, anything that makes life with a toddler easier (and cheaper) gets my vote every single time.

Diaper model.

Diapering can be one of the biggest expenses in a family’s weekly budget and a great performing diaper is a must-have for parents. In order to make this affordable, Wal-Mart has reintroduced their premium line of White Cloud diapers to address the needs of today’s busy parents. White Cloud Diapers provide your baby the highest quality diaper with superior leakage protection, exceptional softness and great fit. White Cloud Diapers are available exclusively at Walmart, where you can find low prices everyday on all your family’s needs. Check them out today!

This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of #WhiteCloudDiapers.

My Family's Ridiculously Close Call At The Boston Marathon.

This is not my story. It's my family's story.

My family was in Boston on Marathon Monday. My entire side of the family. My marathoner sister Rachel- who raised over 11k in honor of my Dad for Dana Farber- my parents, my sister Emily, Rachel's best friend Barry, my sister Kate, her husband Tom, and their three little boys Quinn, Cole, and Declan.

I wasn't there. I was at Disneyland. (More on that bizarre juxtaposition later.)

When the first bomb went off, my family was seated in V.I.P. bleachers at the finish line. As fate would have it, they had recently been gifted these stellar seats by a wonderful family friend, otherwise they would have instead been mere feet across the street to watch Rachel cross the finish; the spot where they normally stand and cheer, the exact location of the first bomb.

In fact, Kate and the boys were standing on that spot only the day before, cheering on Tom for a 5k he ran on Sunday.

This picture- which made the front of the New York Post and Boston.com- is an image of my family fleeing the bleachers. They're the ones looping around and running down the stairs. This photo simply haunts me.

Photo credit: David L. Ryan/ Globe Staff

If they had been standing in their usual viewing area, I might not have my family.

If my Dad hadn't decided to stay back at the hotel because he wasn't feeling well, or if Tom hadn't decided on a whim to run the last two miles with Rachel, or if Tom hadn't brought his cell phone, or if Kate- at eight months pregnant- hadn't been so quick to grab Declan, or if Emily hadn't taken off work or Barry hadn't decided to adjust his plans or if Emily and Barry and my Mom hadn't been so quick to grab Quinn and Cole, and if and if and if.

Back in Anaheim, P.J. had been holding my phone and saw that a call was coming in from my Dad. We were on a gigantic carousel with the girls at the time, and more than a little confused as to why my Dad would be calling right around the time Rachel was hitting Mile 24.

"Something's wrong," P.J. told me.

As it was, "we" were very lucky. Tom helped Rachel finish her marathon- albeit by the waterside- and my family members eventually all met back up after taking convoluted routes through Boston, staying well away from the crowds and main thoroughfares. As Kate told us- "Clearly someone crazy had planted devices in the area, so how was I to know which way to go?"

I'm grateful that they were able to contact Tom (whom, as Kate informed me, never runs with a phone) and Rachel, diverting them from the finish line and letting them know everyone was okay.

I'm angry that Rachel, after training so hard and earning this for herself and our Dad, was denied the thrill of crossing the finish line for her first marathon.

I'm devastated for the innocent victims and their families. Crushed. Horrified.

I'm guilty that I was so incredibly far away, waiting in line at the tea cups and pretending normalcy for Nora and Susannah, while simultaneously waiting on reassuring texts that the group had found one another. Watching people shove to the front of the churro cart while refreshing our browsers and feeds.

I'm saddened for my nephews, who saw and smelled and felt things which no one should ever have to experience.

And I'm grieving that this- which is not my story, but instead a retelling from someone standing at multiple "30 minutes to ride from this point" signs- is a slap in the face to the marathon and Patriot's Day and everything Boston holds dear.

I'm so lucky to have my family safe and sound. Others weren't lucky. This is a national tragedy and a horrifying state of affairs and the stuff of nightmares. But right now, I can't help but feel lucky (and all of those messy emotions which come along with it) that they're okay. That a series of coincidences added up to have each of them in the right place at the right time. And I have to go with that one. Blessed. Fortunate. Providential.

Lucky.