Confessions of a Postpartum Mommy.

    It's Broadway calling. We used to joke about this when we were starting out in NYC. The phone would ring and we would joke, with 100% wishfulness it were true, that Broadway was calling. Fast forward 10 years and here they were...calling. At the exact same time, our second child, Miles, was calling. The labor pains were hard and fast and once they started there was no slowing down. Miles was about to be born.
     In the delivery room, about an hour before birth, Eric got a call that Andrew Lloyd Webber wanted to see him for a final callback for School of Rock in NYC (which would be opening on Broadway that year) in 2 days and Mr. Webber would only be there for that day.  When it rains it pours and it was pouring...Babies and Broadway. Eric was torn about leaving me, so I booked his flight between contractions with Amex Points and resolve. In this moment, I was excited.  When I saw they were doing School of Rock on Broadway, I was convinced in the depths of me that he would play the lead. It was heading to Broadway for the first time and I just knew it was Eric's for the taking.
     The doctor came in to give the epidural and had to stick the yardstick sized needle in twice because they missed the first time. I realized that the IV was in my right hand and so every time I moved it gently tugged that vein out of the top of my hand.  It was uncomfortable but it was fine. It was fine. It was fine. Nothing major was wrong so how could I complain?
     Miles came into the world happy and healthy, kicking and screaming just like he is supposed to. Eric even got to catch him coming out like a little football and cut the cord. I sang to him and my body shook as I came down off of the drugs they had given me.  Kyle and Megan (Eric's brother and his now wife) brought Sophie to meet Miles and it couldn't have been a sweeter moment. Sophia wore her Big Sister T-Shirt and Miles "gave" her a gift.  It was just as it should be.
    In the recovery room, it was dark, and even with the lights on it seemed dim. I remember crying as I felt overwhelmed by all that was happening at the time. It was okay to feel that way because it was, in fact, a lot. The next day, Eric picked up my mom form the airport and brought her to meet Miles. We all headed home and Eric went to NYC to get that job. I was so glad my mom was there because with a four year old at home and bringing in a new baby, you need an extra set of hands and someone who loves you around.
   Eric got stuck in a snowstorm and couldn't return home right away so 5 days later he was able to get  back to us. Sadly, School of Rock (the original cast) went to the other guy.  It wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time something like that happens. Hey, that's showbiz!  I'm not gonna lie though, this one hurt. (Although, we all know now that he got the 1st replacement job and did eventually play the lead in School of Rock on Broadway, it was tough to see that first one slip away).
   Mastitis (infected breast) took over my chest and my temp sky rocketed to 104.5 soon after Eric got home and my mom left. We were really in the weeds. Thank God for Sophie, because she had been bringing me water from the bathroom sink during the time between when my mom left and Eric arrived. It was scary. Eric thought clearly enough to call my doctor and she immediately called in antibiotics for me.
   What was more clear to Eric than to me was that I was NOT myself. Tears streamed down my face as I walked through the day. I couldn't get out of the funk. If you've ever seen Stranger Things and know "the upside down", that is what life was like. Everything was in it's place, all the people were there and I was going about my day, but it was as if someone turned out the lights. It was dark and had an indescribable sadness that laid heavily on it.  Something was wrong, but it was so hard for me to see it. I had Postpartum Depression and it was robbing me of life.
    Thank God, I knew enough to know this wasn't how it was supposed to be. As if I had an out-of-body experience, I watched Eric take the phone and go to the other room, talking in hushed tones to my doctor. When he came back to hand over the phone so I could talk with her, I thanked my lucky stars that we didn't live in the 50's where I might have been locked up for feeling this way. I was able to be honest with my doctor and myself about how I constantly cried and I hurt in a way that was soul crushing. I felt that no one cared about me and that because I couldn't manage my sadness that maybe it would be easier for everyone if I wasn't there. The thing is...I couldn't find the reason for the sadness. Rationalizing your emptiness is something that prevents people from getting the help they need for depression, but once I realized that this was beyond the scope of rational, I knew I needed to try to get help.
    She prescribed the highest dose of Lexipro and I battled the depression until the anti-depressant got into my system, which took abut 4 wks. I stuck with it because I desperately wanted to enjoy my baby, my child, and our life again.
    Soon, I was able to see glimpses of the old self I knew and my response to life was what I expected. In other words, it didn't take me by surprise.
    Over the next year, I continued to take the anti-depressant and I know that many people stay on them for life once they start them. For me, I knew that the hormones were leveling and I was starting to regulate at about the one year mark. I slowly tapered off of the medicine and began to cope with my normal feelings with my old standbys of tears, wine, and prayer.
    And here is what surfaced for me as true as I came around the bend and saw light at the end of the tunnel...
1.) It's okay to be sad or feel overwhelmed. Sometimes those are the cards and you have to deal with them and all the feelings that go along with it.
2.) Know when to get help. If you can't manage the feelings that are happening and don't recognize yourself, it's time to call your doctor.
3.) It gets better. I know this was a popular campaign in the last year, but it's because it's true.  The dark times sharpen and shine us. Darkness always gives way to light.

Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."

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Parenting Your Broadway Baby

     
     

     "Come on, man," screams a parent at an umpire over your shoulder at the little league game and before long you are swept into the culture and the screaming is coming from your own mouth.  Listen, we all know the parent who screams from the bleachers at the field, losing himself in the moment hoping for the best for their kid, yet revealing their inner crazy.  The same thing happens to kid actor parents. One day they are a tearful mom clapping for their little Munchkin in the school play and the next thing they know they have created a tearful child because they are racing all over a city spending every play date time in a waiting room with 100 other miserable children and their hopeful parents.  The screams are maybe more internalized with stage parents, but they are screams nonetheless.
     When Sophie was still swimming in my belly, people were asking me if we were going to put her in “the business.” I joking would say that I am going to encourage her to be a neurosurgeon instead.  Because however difficult that is, it must be easier than the life of an actor.  At a certain point though, you begin to realize that your guidance is a mere suggestion and nature is eminent.  We have to embrace the fact that she was basically born backstage and raised in dressing rooms, making backstage anywhere feel like home to our little roadie.  
     EVERY parent, EVERYwhere between NYC to LA has had the revelatory moment as they watch their bundle of joy belt out “Let It Go” on the stage of their living room knows they are sitting on a star.  Some parents are satisfied to post it on YouTube or text to grandparents, while others start researching local agents and acting classes.  Our journey was somewhere in between those stories.
     Because of Eric’s career as an actor, we happened to know a casting director, who years earlier told us to call him when Sophie was ready. During Eric’s taping of the TV show, “Kirstie” for TVLand, Sophie begged that she wanted to do what daddy did...acting.  We called up our friend and Sophie took a few meetings with agents. They all wanted her and we asked her who she liked best. She chose the people who gave her candy...go figure. Her first audition was for “Grace and Frankie,” the Netflix show and she booked it! The first season she played Brooklyn Decker’s daughter, granddaughter to Jane Fonda and Lily Thomlin. As she went in for the audition, Eric told her to just be herself in his most valiant attempt at good stage parenting. Her response was indicative of all things Sophie as she matter of factly said,"No Daddy, I'm going to be the character." She loved the routine of the set and being part of the filming.  She would come home and transform her pink karaoke mic stand into a boom mic and held it over us, assigning us lines and staging, and directing us with “action” and “cut”.  What a pro! 
     Not too long after that job, we moved to NYC for Eric to do School of Rock and Soph took a break from being a pro to just be a kid. I signed her up for school plays like "Willy Wonka" in CA, where she played an Oompa Loompa, and she took a kids class where they learned basic acting stuff and performed a short musical at the end of the session.  
     While many parents might view the professional work as better than the school play, I’ve got to say both are equally valuable.  It’s important for kids to feel like they are part of the community at their school and to contribute to the greater good, understanding that the experience is a building block of an artist.  It might not be the role of a lifetime and there will be no school play that contributes to their college fund, but the community experience builds their life experience, so give them that too!  
     Just remember that unless Oscar and Tony are the names of your kids, they are not the most important names around.  

What My 3 Year Old Taught Me About New Year Resolutions.

     As we sat at the lunch table today, our conversation turned to the inevitable chatter of New Year's Resolutions.  Our table included 5 people ranging from 3 to 59.  It was easy enough to agree on the ever present goal of eating better and excercising more often...Planet Diet is now in orbit.  Once we cleared our minds of that certain universal truth, we came across the really interesting stuff.

    Setting goals or resolutions is a great way to reflect on where we have been, where we are and where we are going.  The goals we set say so much about our perspective on the world and what drives us.  Not only does it help us to understand ourselves better, but it also helps us to understand others.  

   This year, our 3 year old was ready to get in on the action.  When the conversation landed on her, she  informed us, with a fair amount of flourish, that she would like to be Belle and go to a farm in the New Year.  "Separately?  Or at the same time?" I asked.  "Seperately," she decidedly told her audience of adoring fanily (Fanily: Family who await, admire, and adore every action of a child or relation, with the same or greater fervor that would be awarded to a beloved sports team or celebrity.)  In the glow of her glistening cuteness, I considered pushing her for more info and more goals and more. More. MORE.  

     "Freeze!" I implored upon my impulse to project my own goals upon her .  This is great!  This is a mark of where she is at, how she understands the world and her desire to grow and do things she hasn't done before.  As an adult, those dreams and goals get wildly complicated and sometimes go out the window when met with any mite of adversity.             

     Therefore, in solidarity with my daughter's simple, well expressed desire for something of whimsy and something just beyond my normal everyday life, I am re-evaluating the way I make goals.  So many times we are measuring ourselves up to Nancy Neighbor (who is no longer just the Jones family who literally live next door.) Nancy is every Facebook post of smiling families, new jobs, vacations, engagements, and the like.  She isn't bad.  We just don't see her flaws.  She is that retouched, no dimension picture of a beautiful person made into something sterile and with a complete lack of uniqueness.  The blissfully simple goals of my 3 year old have not been tainted by the rounded off edges of social media...yet.  

     In the light of this moment, which took a fraction of a second to pass and 5 paragraphs to tell of, I am again washed over with a gratefulness for my daughter's unintentional, yet brilliant teachings.  

     My New Year's Goal will be to anchor all my goals and wishes in the beauty of simplicity.  A simplicity that isn't yearned for like something from a historical time long past.  A simplicity that isn't even contained by the holiness of childhood.  This simplicity is for the present version of everyone.  Empowering myself with this tool means that while I can be inspired by those around me, by technology and by events, the things that make me truly tick might be right under my nose.  

     Happy New Year!!!

   

     Lisa Marie Morabito Petersen

Everyday Storytelling in Families to Empower the Child.

Everyday Storytelling in Families to Empower the Child.

       Every parent tells the story of their child's birth through their perspective and that story is our evidence of the first impression we make on the world. My  mom's story for me was that she went to the hospital for a stress test and before she left to go home, she was in labor.  It was as if I said, "Welp, as long as your here...let's do this."  Thus me and , as my mother puts it, my cooperative nature were born.  I love this story and everyone's story of their children coming into the world.  It's  no accident that we start out the way we do.  Whether we remember it directly or not, surely the story has been told.  And whether it is the story in all it's gloriously simple reality or a broadened heightened version which serves as food for entertainment...the STORY itself surely shapes us.  Perspective has long been a potter of personality.  Being told we are something or did something has a lasting affect.  As adults, we discover that while it shapes us, it doesn't need to define us.  Interesting and complex, just when we have defined ourselves, along comes a new story, a new happening, a new experience that forces us to redefine ourselves.  

     With my own child, it becomes evident to me that she takes on stories we tell her and embodies traits defined by her past self in these stories.  We tell stories of her "great joke-telling abilities" to people and guess what?  This begets more jokes and increasing confidence as she tells them and tries new ones.  "A dinosaur rides in a car" is a Sophie original of her humorous imagery jokes followed by a slew of "Knock, knock" jokes.  Realizing the power we have in storytelling and the opportunity to encourage our children through positive reinforcement makes me absolutely tingle with gratefulness.  Knowing that power exists, we must use it wisely.  Telling certain stories around our children that we find particularly entertaining might not ALWAYS be the healthiest thing for their ego or growth as an interactive and social being.   It's important to weigh whether your humorous translation of "meltdown on isle 5" to an empathetic fellow mom is worth the laugh or if you child's radar on what's being said is going to make them feel embarrassment or a possible relegation to that behavior in the future because...after all,"This is just who she is or the way she acts."

     One of my daughter's favorite shows is "Super Why" on PBS.  The formula of each show has a character that "has the power to change the story."  She pretends to have this power as she makes up her own stories on the stage of our living room floor.  What a fantastic message to relay to our kids!

     Storytelling keeps traditions alive, families close, encourages positive experiences, provides tools for guidance, and broadens our experience by getting to know others by listening to stories.  So here's to encouraging friends and family to share their stories.  Give your child a culture through the storytelling experience...a culture and background to be proud of and to fill out in a positive way.   

      My family, like many of yours, is known for telling the same stories over and again.  This is a great tool to build character and relationships.   I love hearing stories about my grandfather picking cotton or running Morse code on a Navy ship, my dad training whales or serving as a small-town city councilman, my mom standing up for people and acting out compassion on a daily basis.  These stories weren't always told directly to me ,but were always floating around me.  They most definitely shaped how I viewed these family members.  Our little ones are all ears and very impressionable, so while storytelling might seem like it ends when you close the bedtime fairytale about "Jack and the Beanstalk", think again.  Stories are interwoven into our everyday life and become the fabric which defines us and holds us together.   

 

Parent Project: Magnetic Chalkboard

     At Sophie's dance studio, there is a chalkboard wall that calls to the children as they exit their class or wait for a sibling.  As I sat one day, watching the children play, I observed a young girl, who was barely 3 years old, take her chalk to the board and draw the letter A.  "You can do that at home," I heard her mother call from the exit,"Let's go."  She dropped the chalk and raced to her mom, leaving behind a bit of inspiration for me.  Hmm, I thought.  Where could I do a chalkboard wall?  The door seemed a perfect place for us, but you could really do this anywhere.   Just heed the warning from my friend who said, "Make sure your kids know that they are only allowed to draw on the chalkboard surface, otherwise you might end up with this..."

Hopefully you will end up with something more like this...

The items you will need to accomplish your goal are:

Sand paper.

Paint tray.

Small roller and two sponges to go on roller.

Painting tarp.

Two paint brushes for getting to the edge of the door precisely.

Magnetic Primer.

Chalkboard Paint (comes in many colors).

Chalk.

Eraser.

Directions.

Place tarp over floor.

Sand the surface.

Paint 3 thin layers of primer.  Each layer dries in 30 minutes.

Paint 2 layers of chalkboard paint.  Leave 4 hours between layers.

Once finished, leave to dry and set for 3 full days before using.

Do not forget to Treat Your New Chalkboard before using.

How to Treat Your New Chalkboard...kindly.  Ba, dum, ching!  

After the paint has set for 3 days, use the side of a piece of chalk and cover the entire board with a thin layer of chalk.  Then, wipe it down with a wet soft cloth. Create, draw, and play!

The Ballad of the Ballerina

The Ballad of the Ballerina.
A Sophie Petersen original work of live theatrical art, as depicted by her mommy, Lisa Morabito Petersen.

       My 3 year old and I have a weekly tradition of going to ballet class on Tuesday morning, followed by a trip to a neighborhood coffee shop.  Soph loves it because they have pink macaroons, bistro tables for two and a shop.
       My ballerina gracefully prances her way into the shop, which has an intimacy that recalls a French cafe.  In it, she looks like a living Degas portrait.  Her pink leotard and tutu bounce playfully and her giant round eyes bob with laughter and seem exceptionally large and beautiful today, as her hair sits in a perfect ballerina bun on top of her head.  The look is completed by a bedazzled mini tiara.
     We choose our snack and grab a table.  A steady stream of admirers pass by and remind Sophie how adorable she looks and inquire about her ballerina costume.  After we enjoy our pink and green macaroons, Sophie enjoys the freedom of choosing a children's book from a magazine rack at the front of the store..."All by her self." As Mommy, I love this feature to the shop because not only does it encourage us to bring our children to the quant shop, but to sit, read, and even stay a while.  Their selection for children are mostly books with heavy themes of being environmentally friendly and scientifically minded.  Oh, it makes me feel so smart and intellectual, I could squeak like a baby dolphin.  The book about invention is followed by a book about how aliens destroyed the world because they used all the resources irresponsibly.  Now that I have patted myself on the back for being such a great guiding mommy, we peruse the store.
     The store is filled with beautiful things...trinkets, candles, paintings, etc.  Deep in the store, one table is an oasis of children's books and toys.  Sophie is relieved when I give her the "ok" to touch the items on that table.  After she thumbs through a few books, she spots a notebook shaped tin with a picture of a ballerina on the front, containing (40+!!!!) magnets to design the dancer's scene.  She turns to me, with the tin hugged to her body. "Dress ups, Mommy!!! Can I take this home with me?  Please?" she says straddling a line of begging and sensibility just perfectly.  "We have so many toys at home Soph.  We just got some things yesterday at the store," I counter.  "But I want to play with this," she argues.  By this point, I am at the cashier prepared to pay for a friend's gift.
      As I turn to look at my daughter, she transports me into her tragedy.  All of the sudden, she becomes aware of the sad French song that is playing throughout the store.  She turns from me, defeated.  Her arms slump, her head hangs forward, and she drags her feet as she forces herself to return the toy to the table. As she gets a few feet from me, the music swells, she turns to me and holds out the toy with both hands, her eyes begging me to love her by buying her this.  She knows I have made up my mind, as she hugs the toy to her chest and dramatically turns toward the table.  She holds her position, as the singer quietly explains something in French.  To the beat of the ballad, Sophie does a trudge, trudge, trudge, trudge all the way to the table.  I laugh to myself, as I think that it almost worked on me. 
       As she lifts the tin, the singer and Sophie have clearly conspired against me.  She glides the tin over it's place on the table, spins to the neighboring table and places it down, with her mournful head on top. Sophie looks up, at just the right angle that might make you mistake her for a lost puppy.  She says nothing and although I don't speak French....I'm prrrrrrtetty sure the singer was narrating Sophie's dance with a "Why don't you love me.  If you loved me, you would buy me this."  Sophie continues her dance with the tin, to the French song.  I turn away, as I can feel my resolve melting by the soft ember burn of her perfectly executed ballet.
       "Bring it to the counter," I say still facing away.
       "What?" says a little voice infused with disbelief.
       "Well," I thought, "If she can't win a Tony for that performance, she should at least get a toy."
        In all seriousness, we, as parents, are constantly caught between the idea of wanting to give them the world and wanting to teach them how to deal with not getting everything they want.  It's a road well traveled and we all do our best.  Today, she showed me she had some real artistic determination and that...I just have to appreciate.  There's a lot of nuance in parenting...and apparently that is not lost on our children.  Enjoy it because, as they say, "It will all be over too soon."


*The picture is from last week's class, but it gives you an idea of what I'm working with here.  Pure cuteness.

Why This Mommy Decided To Get Schooled.

Why This Mommy Decided To Get Schooled.  
     Okay.  Now what?!  I read all the books on development during pregnancy, sleep training, and the anecdotal "make-me-laugh" books by celebrities with babies.   The What to Expect i-phone App gives you a little glimpse of Word Pictures, a track of where your child should be on average, but that just wasn't cutting it for me.  Baby Center offers their weekly advice and is a gathering of the minds and a cyber group where we can compare and contrast thoughts on what we are going through as parents.  I found that with each article I read, I was bogged down with different voices and many times these mommy cyber-hubs become stomping grounds for a virtual yelling match.
     As my search into educational programs for my little girl became more serious, I decided to take things to a whole. 'mother. level.   When it comes to life forms, there are always a number of scientific theories on developmental growth.  It will always be a study and never a definitive because there are so many variables with children that differ among the individual and environment.  Having taken my daughter to a number of classes offering different styles of learning, I was most intrigued by those programs that were yielding, what I observed to have the greatest impact on her social and cognitive growth.
     There was a program in New York City that had a great indoor playground space where we had an experience that made my question clock start ticking.  The lack of any structure at all and a teacher who waited for children to approach her resulted in many children being left behind.  I watched as my daughter tried to make a connection with another child using baby dolls.  The teacher rinsed brushes and then turned and sang a song with zero participation from her class.  As I watched the teacher with her stained apron and a vaguely absent look on her face sing from the corner, behind a desk, to a room full of 2.5 year olds, I wondered...how much glue did she sniff this morning?  We decided not to have Sophie continue in Ms. Sniff's class, but instead found an eclectic blend of classes and play spaces for our 6 months in NYC.
     The question that this experience caused me to raise to myself was, "What am I looking for in an educational environment for my daughter?"  The answer was...I don't know.  I was actually quite embarrassed by the fact that I wasn't privy to the new sciences or developments on education or school preparedness.  Well, I wasn't going to waste anymore time wallowing in my embarrassment.  There's no time like the present to start finding answers.
     Of course, there is the checklist of top schools or "feeder" schools (for those in a big city private school market).  This list only yielded more questions for me.  Why?!  Why are these the best schools or programs?  Is it because some celebrity kids went there?  Is it because it was a great school 20 years ago?  Is there something in the water?
     I had to go deeper.  I reflected on my own childhood.  30 years ago, there just weren't the options that we have today.  The social skills and cognitive learning that we acquired in preschool was often times a happy accident and less a calculated journey to what we now call school-readiness.  I was grateful that it was easy enough to acquire information about milestones from popular parenting websites, but I felt that there was much more to this nut.  I was merely scratching at the shell.
   I'm not sure how many times I read it before it really sank in, but here is the idea that sent me on my newest and most empowering journey yet.  I, as her parent, was her first and greatest teacher.  A while ago, a friend who works at a school in CA had asked if I would be interested in subbing.  I brushed off the idea because I thought I wasn't interested.  All of the sudden, I realized that maybe I needed to be. Maybe I don't need to make a career out of it, but I realized as we began to walk home from Ms. Sniff's disaster that I could acquire this knowledge simply to improve the quality of life and education for myself and my child.  I found a program with some classes that interested me through the UCLA Extension program and before I could blink, I had enrolled.
     What was this strange sensation?  My heart beat quickened.  My palms were sweaty.  This isn't what empowerment was supposed to feel like.  Ahhh.  Self-doubt, my old-nemises.  Long time no see.  What am I doing, I thought?  I've already graduated college.  I'm going to make a fool of myself.  How do you even attend a class online?  This is a joke.  I'm not going to really learn anything.  Arghhh.  I'm just wasting money and time.
     Log In.  As I signed in for my first classes, I began reading from the textbooks about Early Childhood Development and understanding the science of cell make-up, the forming of the child and the various theories and practices that have become widely used and appreciated in the world of Early Childhood Development.  Old Pouty Self-doubty had to retreat to some untapped recess of my now fully engaged mind.  The new information was exciting and I found that it wasn't simply acquiring the information that brought me enjoyment, but rather the fact that I could now, with life experience, bring something special to that information.  Nothing is more empowering than literally feeling yourself blossom from that Miracle-Gro blend of information and experience.
     Since beginning the continuing education classes, I have been able to help our family better define what is right for us in regards to school choice and we have an approach to "at-home" learning that works in tandem with what they do at the program where Sophie is now.  In September, I will have completed my Teaching Certificate through the UCLA Extension.  You don't have to become a teacher to access the information that I found so helpful through my continued education, but there is a world beyond what can be attained through "gut-parenting."  In this article, I mean to champion those who are out there who want more for your kids and are paralyzed or suffocating under a wealth of to-do lists and shoulds.  You don't need someone to tell you what you should do with your child in every circumstance and situation.  There is no perfect playbook.  What we can do is know our kid, know ourselves and teach them to reach...for greatness.

Have you ever thought about going back to school?
   

   

Turbo: Family Summer Movie Must-See

     Race, Race, Mooove.   Turbo opens today and is the perfect afternoon activity.   And if your first question, like mine, is what age of child should watch this...the answer is 1 to 100.  The content is funny, driving and an ultimately positive message for kids.

     We saw a screening the night before Sophie's 3rd birthday and the message of "Don't give up" obviously resonated with her.  At the end of the night, she looked at Daddy and me and said with a gravely serious expression "My birthday is over, but there will be another one.  I'm not givin' up!"

     That universal truth sank in with a 3 year old because this movie encourages freedom in imagination and gives us a license to dream.  There are sweet truths brought forward by our unlikely hero following his heart and we all need to be reminded that success is in the colorful journey, not just the ending.  

     The characters are more bright and distinctive than anything you will find on MMC.  The crew of snails have a humanity...an ability to move you and make you laugh. During one of the touching scenes where two brothers journey to understand each other, the reflection in the eyes of one brother, layered with the glistening of emotion you would see in an Oscar winning Streep performance, gives uexpected weight to these characters.  

     One thing is absolutely for sure.  You. Must. Have. This. Soundtrack.  As I looked in front of me, I saw little heads bobbing up and down to the driving music of this racing movie.  The music is infectious.  How can you not feel cool when Snoop is chanting his lyrics and the beats are crazy good.  I will be using this as my summer anthem now, thank you.  So when you see a Chrysler Town and Country Touring Van roll up next to you, with a car seat in the back, and Snoop on my speaks...you'll know it's this mommy feelin' oh so fly.

     Don't take it from me though.  My 3 year old is the real expert and she says seeing Turbo in the theatre is "so so much fun!"

     www.turbomovie.com

What is your favorite family summer movie?