A note from Wildcard Moderator Rachel Martin: I met Ilana Glazer exactly 10 years ago. Ilana and her co-star Abbi Jacobson enjoyed the success of their hilarious web series Broad citywhich later became a successful TV show. I interviewed both of them, but I had just returned from maternity leave for my second child and I have to say I was so exhausted at that moment.

What I remember from that interview to this day is Ilana’s energy. Like Energy with a capital “E”. They were bursting at the seams with ideas, stories and potential. And I share this because the tired young mothers out there often feel somehow alone and disconnected from the rested, creatively fertile people.

When I saw Ilana Glazer’s new comedy special on Hulu, Human magicWhen it comes to the crazy part of life that is early parenthood, part of me was selfishly glad that they had crossed the Rubicon and realized how exhausting it all is. But then I watched Ilana’s special and saw the same “capital E” energy, even though they’re now parents to a toddler, and I realized that’s just how this person is built.

From where I’m sitting, it looks like Ilana Glazer’s default setting is energy and enthusiasm, and I’m going to add joy to the mix because every time I watch them perform, I’m happier than I was an hour or two ago. That’s why I wanted them to play a game of Wild Card with me.

This Wild Card interview has been edited for length and clarity. Host Rachel Martin asks guests randomly selected questions from a deck of cards. Tap play above to listen to the full podcast or read an excerpt below.

Question 1: What form of rebellion did you have as a teenager?

Ilana Glaser: I didn’t really rebel as a child or teenager. I was doing very well and focused on achieving something. And my rebellion came later. To be honest, I wasn’t sure about rebelling against my parents until a few years ago. LOL. I am 37 years old.

When I was about to become a parent, I thought, “No, I’m separated from my parents.”

But of course I had a certain rebellion; It eventually came in the form of sex and smoking weed my senior year of high school.

Rachel Martin: I mean, this is pretty much outright rebellion.

Glazier: Yes, standard – I would honestly say patriotic. That’s how it ended up happening, and so did I.

And then I feel like parenthood has really helped me feel like I don’t care. Do you know what I mean? I don’t care if I’m accepted. For me it’s more about figuring out who I am and what I need. That is more important to me than crossing a line and resuming.

Martin: Wait, I need more on that. How does having a child make you rebellious?

Glazier: As long as I focus on meeting my needs and those of my family and child, I can be unpleasant. I don’t have to fill the supporting role I previously hoped to fill.

I have found that the boundaries of parenting are very helpful for the rest of my life. It forced me to draw lines that I never wanted to draw before. I want to be everything to everyone. And it is so important for my health and that of my child. And it actually serves the whole world to give her the healthiest child I can. So it was a very helpful restructuring.

Question 2: How comfortable do you feel being alone?

Glazier: I’m going to go against the binary with this answer and say: “increasingly.” Ooh – are you overwhelmed by all my therapy, Rachel Martin?

But that’s the right answer – increasingly. But it’s hard. I really feed off people. I love people. I love intellectual intercourse. I love socializing and getting involved, but I always feel more comfortable alone. And besides, being alone has become a greater relief for me, since I have such a needy little individual who needs me so often.

Martin: Yes. This may have been associated with anxiety before, and now it’s just so close.

Glazier: Yes.

Martin: I am someone who craves alone time.

Glazier: Yes. Are you tall?

I don’t know. I think I’m 1.70 m tall. My husband insists that I’m 5’6″ and 3/4 tall.

Glazier: Oh, copy that. I don’t know if this has changed, but in the early 2000s – I was a teenager at the time – for some reason I know, I got the toxic message that to be a model you had to be 5’10 m must be large. So you’re the size of a model, baby.

Martin: (Laughs) Wait, is that just a random interstitial?

Glazier: I don’t know – I just long to spend time alone and be tall, like I imagine you gliding through the streets of DC and undoing your collar and not wanting the bottom half of your face to be seen. I say, “Yeah, she likes to be alone.” I’m little and I say (Gremlin voice), “Hello everyone. Does anyone want to hear a joke?” I don’t know, I just wanted to imagine it.

Martin: I want you to always think of me like that. It’s exactly the opposite of who I am.

Question 3: Are you good at knowing when something should end?

Glazier: Yes that’s me. With Broad cityWe signed our contract for seven seasons, and then we both decided to end it after five – Abbi and I. Comedy Central was like, “Huh?” But yeah, I think that’s something elegant about me – knowing when things are over.

Martin: This is an admirable quality because it is not the same for everyone. And especially when there’s something good going on and there are people telling you, “It’s good, just keep going,” and when someone tells you it’s time to stop.

Glazier: Phew. Yes. And how to be able to trust that I will be productive beyond this moment, whether it’s a creative project or something like that – that I’m sure that I’m always creating new levels and that I’m happy to go without thinking. This was something that made the experience of pregnancy so incredible. I’m such an overthinker and planner. Creating a human without thinking about it was like, “I don’t even think about it and my body knows what to do.” And when we get a scratch and the skin grows back. It’s simply about trusting in my own humanity.

Martin: Is it just a gut feeling to end things? You’re just like, “I just feel like we should stop?”

Glazier: Yes. I was a drummer for many years. I miss it. I just loved percussion. For a while I thought, “I’m going to be an orchestral drummer.” Can you imagine me on a timpani, like “dun duh-duh duh duh.” And I think it’s like a rhythm thing. You know what I mean? It’s a bigger rhythm thing: “This is over,” you know, and also accepting the loss.