I feel so lucky to have had the press coverage I’ve had leading up to the premier on April 5 of my show on Bravo Pregnant in Heels. So don’t take this post as a bratty ungrateful English lassy complaining about the glitz and glam of being a growing celebrity (well, you can if you like) but take it instead as a wee vent, because you can’t make this stuff up. And while Baby Wells is the best listener ever, he doesn’t seem to want to respond to my running commentary on today’s events and would rather pleasantly snore beside me all bundled up in completely impractical but totally yummy cashmere!
My day started off at 5 AM as usual with his early morning feed and I found myself wondering yet again why Starbucks doesn’t deliver (definitely the business plan of my future). I know you are probably thinking “buy a coffee maker, lady” but trust me when I tell you those machines see me coming and conspire to make coffee that tastes like gutter grit no matter how hard I try to follow the instructions!
Then, of course,today, the day I am carrying no less than my 6 week old, his stroller, car seat, bottles, and diaper supply for the day (who knows how many poops the little man will do?) PLUS a couture birthing gown PLUS a head of unfortunately frizzy hair, it was raining in NYC – YES, raining! Of course! Why would the weather make it easier?
Despite all of this I was super excited because a car was coming to pick me and the babe up (one perk of being a new reality TV star!). However, as usual, it was tough to tear myself away from my buckwheat pancake eating JR (somehow “buckwheat” sounds healthy doesn’t it? That is what I tell myself, anyway), especially because he is sick today, poor lamb. I hate it when my kids are sick, it is heart breaking and they don’t really understand what is wrong. My normal remedy is lots of hugs, honey and DVDs, but today I can’t stay and the anxiety of being a bad parent starts to build.
When the car finally arrived, the driver asked “You know where you are going right?” Eh-ehhm, no actually. I spent the next hour trying to program his GPS because clearly I look like I’d be good at that. He then gave me a lengthy running commentary on how Greenwich Avenue is a long street. Not necessary information, my friend -I’m trying to bond with my baby back here which is the least I can do considering I am dragging him to yet another photoshoot. Still hadn’t had any coffee yet and I’m freezing my little leopard print flats off and wondering why I didn’t go for the head to toe fleecy onesie I saw advertised last night on some fab channel, as opposed to the silky dress I yanked from the closet (not a smart move). Perhaps I’ll make them chic next fall! Maternity fleecy onesies….don’t laugh, they are sounding fabulous just at the moment.
So where was I? Ahhhhh, my ever growing anxiety that this career of mine is affecting my kids. My hubby reassures me this is not the case, at least not negatively, but it is hard for me to see the stars through the trees right now (or whatever that phrase is, I am terrible at phrases). I feel as though I am always running, I never stop to walk, and my children therefore have to run with me. Would it be better if I left them at home or should I continue to take them on all these crazy adventures: photoshoots, production meetings, trips to LA… Right now I feel as though bringing them with me is the best thing, even if it is not the easiest, at least when I can. I feel like we are becoming a nomadic family – perhaps we should start a traveling Christian rock band and be done with it?
But then again, when I stop to think about my childhood, I realize I grew up coloring in drawings at the House of Commons while my mum met with politicians, or back stage at the Opera House as my dad performed. It was amazing and I wouldn’t trade those experiences with my parents at work. So maybe I should get my head out of the sand and embrace this life, and my kids’ slightly unconventional days. Okay now I am tearing up – seriously this is embarrassing – all in the back of a town car!
Alas, the quest for work/life balance continues, my kids are a day older, I feel more than a day older and as I look at the sweet things sleeping my anxiety lifts, if only until the morning (or until I check my schedule for tomorrow!).