Conversation for a Cynic

Driving to daycare/work with the kids this morning, Nate was in a chatty mood. I was listening absentmindedly over the competing chatter from the radio, when the conversation took this turn.

"Mom, do you know what?"

"No, Nate. What?"

"There is no Easter bunny. He's just a man dressed up in a bunny costume."

"Sorry, what did you say, hon?" What?! What?!!!

"Yeah. There's no Easter bunny. It's just a guy."

"But Nate, the Easter bunny came to our house and brought you Easter eggs. We hunted for them."

"No mom."

"Well, Nate honey, sometimes people dress in costumes, but that doesn't mean that there's still not an Easter bunny. Mommy believes in the Easter bunny..."

At this point we were idling at a red light. I glanced back to see Nate contentedly picking his nose and staring out the window, completely unconcerned that his mother's world was crumbling around her ears.

Turning to look me squarely in the eyes, Nate gave a half-pitying smile, "Sorry mom. It's just a guy in a costume."

The light turned green and I bit my lower lip just a little as I accelerated through the intersection.

I knew the end of the innocence would come. I just didn't think it would be at four years, two months and twenty days.

What we've been up to...

Nate and Jake's Top 10 Reasons why Grandparents are cool:

10. They live in exotic places like Ontario.

9. They arrive with gifts like chocolate in the shape of fireman's gear.

8. They take you toy shopping for one toy and you end up with three. Just because.

7. They will play trains, planes and automobiles for hours on end.

6. They will play hockey and soccer for hours, and let you score not a few goals on them.

5. They will squish onto the cuddle chair for one more nighttime story.

4. They know the answer to any question you ask.

3. They will make up stories to tell you when you're tired.

2. Their bedtime tickles last 20 minutes longer than mommy's tickles do.

1. They are unconditional love and attention, all that's right with the world.

The Limp Noodle

I'd like to know what evolutionary purpose the limp noodle move serves.

I'm sure you know the move I'm talking about. Somewhere around 16 to 18 months, the child learns to have a temper tantrum. As an adult who occasionally has temper tantrums, I can understand this developmental milestone.

However, the temper-tantruming child who has learned to convert his/her bones to jello (aka the limp noodle move) while still screaming/crying/fussing/carrying on is the worst. Sometimes you can't let the tantrum ride it out. You have to pick said child up.

There is absolutely nothing like picking up a stream of squirming, twisting jello-child. Who oozes out your fingers and slithers back to the ground.

Tell me what evolutionary purpose this serves? Why do children learn how to do this and who teaches them? 'Cause I have a choice word or two for them.

In the meantime, any techniques on handling this phase?

Hiring Tips from an HR Guru (I Heard That Snort!)

I work in HR nowadays. I used to teach English Lit to high school students. Generally, I like people. I want them to do well. I want them to succeed.

In the interest of (possibly) your future success, I'd like to pass on a few observations about applying for jobs. A couple of things I've noticed, so to speak, along the way.

1. Figure out what my company does before you email me. I don't want to hear that you applied to my company because of a random Google search.

2. Figure out what career you are interested in. Telling me that you're a marketing, sales, office managing guru who wants to write code too is not a selling point.

3. I know we are an IT company, but don't write ur cover letter in IM speak, m'k? tnx.

4. Spell check was invented for a reason. I am not going to believe you are detail-oriented when you've misspelled Vancovuer [sic] in your address.

5. During the interview, I like you to feel comfortable. Not so comfortable that you are slouching in the chair with your knee up on the conference table though.

6. If you are applying for a job which requires a portfolio, come prepared to show it.

7. However, don't fill said portfolio with amazing works that get you through the door, only to tell me that you were responsible for getting the coffee for the people who actually built said works.

8. Don't use the words "f*ck" and "balls" even if it's culturally normative in your last office.

9. When I ask you why you left your last job(s) do not respond with a laundry list of everything that you hated about previous employers/clients/co-workers. I can guarantee you won't like us either.

10. What would you add?

I Need Some Inspiration

The sun's coming. It's been warm, welcoming weather. We bought a patio heater and some lounging furniture. I'm looking forward to spending some summer nights cuddled up to a French Pinot and a good book.

I've got some Pinots in the cellar. What I don't have are some good book selections.

I like all kinds of reading, from chick lit to award winners. My only criteria? A good story I can sink into.

I could never pick a top ten list, but here are some (of the more serious lit) stories that have grabbed me in the recent past:

1. A Fine Balance

2. The Kite Runner

3. The Poisonwood Bible

4. Memory Keeper's Daughter

5. The Secret Life of Bees

6. Not Wanted on the Voyage

7. Oryx and Crake

8. This Much I Know is True

9. She's Come Undone

10. Fall On Your Knees

11. The Book of Negroes

Can you help me? Do you have any suggestions. I like chick lit and murder mysteries too (I call it brain candy). Give my Pinot a partner.

Brotherly Love

After a day of way too much sugar, fictional bunnies and pouring rain, Nate found a blanket, popped in a Blues Clues DVD, invited Jake up on the "cuddle chair" and tucked them in for 20 minutes of parental peace.

I don't care what you think... I've got the cutest kids in the world.

Our Life Sorta Kinda in the Spotlight

I put Jakey's photos in to the agent and then never heard back, so I didn't think much of it.

Then one day, when I'd all but forgotten about it, I received a phone call and Jake went to an audition. Then he made it to the next round. He didn't get that commercial, but our agent, encouraged, sent us to another audition soon after.

And wouldn't you know, after a few weeks of waiting and deciding that nothing was going to come of making it to the second round, the agent phoned. Jake got the commercial. For Hasbro. National commercial. Mucho dinero.

I was thrilled! My new wardrobe Jakey's college would be paid for.

The only disadvantage was the total disruption to our lives. I had to take Jake to a fitting, which meant a half day away from work. During his nap time. Only to find out that they just needed his clothing sizes. Which I'd already written down during his first audition. And his second audition. But they dutifully wrote everything down and sent us, with a map to the shoot, on our way.

A day later, the production company called to tell me that the shoot was scheduled for 8am to 5pm. Problem one: Nate's preschool opens at 8am. Problem two: David was out of town on business. Problem three: Somehow I anticipated that a commercial shoot would only be, oh, say an hour long. I mean, it all gets edited down to 30 seconds, right? Problem four: Jakey, after a two week run of good health, seemed to be on the verge of a cold.

The other thing I learned was that all shoots with kids have 3-5 kids chosen (and ranked in order of preference), in case one's not performing, or the director wants to go with a girl instead of a boy, etc. He had no idea where my son fit in to the list and he added that we might go to four or five shoots before our child got to actually be in a commercial. I decided it was easier to think of Jakey as the last choice, so as not to get my hopes up.

Thursday morning, my fantabulous neighbours agreed to drive Nate in to school.

We arrived at the shoot, someone's house mansion, borrowed for the commercial.

Once four kids, five parents, and two baby wranglers were crammed into a small bedroom, I learned that Jakey was in fact the number two choice. My heart did a little inside dance, "Whoo hoo! My child's number two! He's number two!" To top it off, Jakey seemed in perfect health, in perfect spirits, and the number one boy seemed way to shy and personality-less, and, hmmmm, not nearly as cute, to be the star boy. (Nope, no stage mom-itis over here at all.)

Then wardrobe happened and I knew we had a problem. The clothes were way too big for the much-bigger-than-Jakey star. And, Jakey was the smallest boy of all of the kids in the room. How could they screw up wardrobe? Wouldn't they know that any kids' clothes can vary by an entire size depending on the maker? How could wardrobe sacrifice my child's chance at stardom?! (Um, yeah, stage mom. Over here.)

When everything was finally ready for the "Talent" as the actors were called, I watched on the monitor as the number one child failed to perform as desired. Even my untrained eye could pick up that there was a problem. And Jakey was busy playing away, in a great mood, ready, just ready, for his impending stardom.

And then it happened. The director called for a break. People gathered in the doorway of our holding cell cosy accommodations, and I knew it was time. I could hear them debating. Did they go for Jake or the number three boy, who was bigger. I wanted to scream, "You have to take Jake! He's number two! He's on! He's beautiful! PICK. MY. BABY!!" But I just smiled at them as they went with the bigger number three boy. (We stage moms are good at covering like that you know.)

But then number three boy went on camera and was "gold, pure gold" to quote the director, who we could hear via the monitor. At that point I shot daggers at his mom and rolled onto my back on the bed. This just sucked. My son should've been in there, getting all the glory. Getting all the greenbacks. Stupid number three. He wasn't nearly as cute as my kid.

Right about there, as stage mom took over my whole body, I started to think that maybe I had a teensy-tiny problem. Maybe.

The long and the short of it, is Jakey did some relief work (back of the head, hand angles), but you'll never know that THAT'S MY SON IN THAT COMMERCIAL! I may, however, request a copy of the commercial to see Jakey's hands in action, and post it here for all to see.

And I'll try not to mutter about how that should be my kid up there.

Seriously.

We were robbed.

The Three Amigos

Three straight nights of dinner parties (read: clean house, grocery shop, prepare meals, entertain guests) kept me off the computer all weekend. It was somewhat liberating. That being said. I haven't written installment two, which I'll try to get to for tomorrow.

As a brief interlude, I bring you "An Ode to Jello in the Key of B" (B for blue).

Is blue food colouring a food group?

And don't you miss days like these where going out for food and being silly with friends was the highlight of your Friday?

Our Life In the Spotlight

Vancouver is often dubbed Hollywood North, which means a lot of filming happens up here. This phenomenon has a few side effects:

1. The work crews regularly block traffic flows, invariably when you’re late to get somewhere, like picking up your kids from daycare where the penalty is 5 dollars per minute, so you’re reduced to yelling things you’d never thought would come out of your mouth like, “Get out of my way Jennifer Aniston!”

2. We regularly see a lot of stars, A-listers through to D-listers, around town. They like it here because Canadians don’t stalk (or gawk at) them… at least not too much.

3. My husband and I spend a good part of movies and TV shows identifying local landmarks.

4. Money spreads everywhere. Our office space was short-listed last week to shoot a Mike’s Hard Lemonade commercial. It pays way more than I imagined. Now I understand the price point on the bottle.

5. There are a lot of opportunities for actors (babies to adults) to have anything from minor to starring roles in commercials, tv shows and films.

This last point is where my story begins. You see, Nate was a Gerber baby: piercing blue eyes, porcelain skin, rolls of fat and light blonde hair. Witness:



Feel free to stop a moment to ooh and aah.

Now, every parent thinks his or her child is the most adorable baby on the planet, but after having everyone tell us to put our kid in commercials, I looked into it. I got Nate an agent (basically I filled out an online form and submitted a photo). And I waited.

Soon we were invited to our first cattle casting call, and I was full of excited anticipation, not knowing what to expect. I half hoped to see some crazy stage mothers doing blog-worth acts. In fact, I invited my closest mommy friend to come with me. Moral support is always best when you can gossip about people after the fact.

Over the course of many casting calls, I began to notice a pattern:

1. Your agent gives you roughly 12-18 hours notice to show up to the casting call.

2. Your time slot is always during your child’s nap time.

3. At the call you fill out the same paperwork (each time) and wait for up to an hour.

4. You and 10 other moms pass time amusing bored kids while pretending not to check the other kids out. Invariably one mom casually drops that her child was in a commercial last month and isn't this process such a drag. Couldn't they just fast-track the proven kids...

5. The baby wrangler takes your infant/toddler away to the other room.

6. You spend 2-5 minutes wondering if he smiled, giggled and wowed the crowd or if he screamed bloody murder.

7. You wait one week to see if you made the call back and start over again at number 1.

In the end, Nate was called to many casting calls, but he never made it to a shoot. He didn’t have the personality to go into the room without me. Even now, he’s the more tentative of my two children. Since we never signed him up to boost our own egos, but simply to see if he/we could have fun and earn money for his college fund, we pulled him out. No point stressing him or us out.

Jake though, Jake is a much more independent personality, even if he doesn’t have the classic Gerber baby looks.

When he hit seven months, I decided to try again. And that’s where the story really starts.

Installment two’s coming on Monday.

Photo Assumption?

Just a bloggy aside...

I was looking at Joe clothing line to see what they have for my kids. I hate shopping. I hate dragging kids shopping. I thought I'd do a pre-store-visit inspection. Overall, it was a fruitless endeavour as there are only a few shots of select outfits available.

However, I did run across this photo. Now, what how do you think the photographer achieved this shot:

Joe Fresh

www.joe.ca

Did he say, "You, on the left, smile, giggle and look like you're having a great time at the mall with your girlfriend. You, on the right, look off into space like a stoned Hollywood starlet leaving the club after one too many lines of coke."

I want a job critiquing this stuff. Do you think someone will pay me to make snarky comments about random photo ads?

** Updated to add that the sidebar ads cut the photo off on the right. Click the link below the photo to see the entire shot. **