Why You Will Not Be Seeing My Family in a LIFE Cereal Commercial

Apr 22, 2009

A little more than a year ago, Rob, Jordan, Bennett and I got a call to audition for a LIFE cereal commercial – as a family. We were only one of a handful of families called to audition so I figured our chances were pretty good – better than winning the lottery, at least!

Anyway, logistics-wise, it wasn’t easy to get us there. Jordan and Bennett had school, Rob was conducting interviews at work, etc. They gave us the latest audition time at 5:15 on Wednesday and told me that if Rob still couldn’t make it, to just bring photos of him. (After much cajoling and a few teensy-weensy threats – this really isn’t Rob’s “thing” – he agreed to show up.)

They told me not to “prep” my kids. No problem with Bennett. How would you even begin to prep a 14 month old? But, Jordan . . . I told her nothing about any of this until I picked her up from school that day and even then, all I said was that we were going to meet the people who make LIFE cereal. I told her that when they asked her questions, she needed to speak loudly and clearly and behave herself. She was very excited about all of this and told me that she was going to ask them for the recipe.

So . . . we all got there by 5:15 and were directed into a small room with a couch for us all to sit on. There were three people in the room with us and they were videotaping us as they asked us questions. They told me that when they asked Jordan questions, I could rephrase them to help her answer them. For example, if they said, “What do you like to do for fun?” I could say, “Remember what we did at the beach last summer . . .”

Fine. So far, so good. Then, they began asking us questions . . .

Let’s just say, Rob, Bennett and I did just fine . . .

And then there was Jordan . . .

First of all, she kept slouching on the couch with her feet up, showing her underwear. I had to keep repositioning her. Then, she seemed to find a true fascination with the taste of her fingers – which I had to keep pulling out of her mouth.

When they asked her questions . . . honestly, my non-stop, mile-a-minute, yap, yap, yap child became a mute.

She claimed she didn’t know the answers (how old she was became a tough question.) She whispered and mumbled her responses. No prompting from me was about to help.

They asked us why we liked LIFE cereal and choose to eat it in the morning. I was in the middle of explaining how busy our mornings are and how much easier it is to pour a bowl of cereal than make a big meal when my daughter decides that now would be the perfect time to find her voice and speak loudly and clearly so that all could hear.

She said, “Actually, we like to eat waffles.”

Yep. That really sealed the deal for us.

As I was getting the kids into their carseats when it was all over, Rob said, with a smile, “I think we nailed it!” I looked at him, hopeful that he had seen something in the whole experience that I had missed. I said, “Really?” He laughed and said, “NO! It was awful!” UGH!! He was right. It WAS awful!

The next morning, as we were getting ready for school, I yelled to Jordan, asking what she wanted for breakfast. Clear as a bell, she called back, “LIFE cereal!” Rob started to laugh again and said, “Did you hear that, Mommy? She wants LIFE cereal for breakfast.”

Needless to say, we haven’t heard about a call back. Oh, well . . . guess it just wasn’t meant to be. At least I’ll never be one of those stage moms on Dr. Phil who believes their child is destined to be a star! As Jordan told my mom, with a roll of her eyes, when asked about the audition, “It was so boring!”

One naked brother

Apr 12, 2009

On Christmas Eve, the kids were getting ready for bed. Bennett (age 2) was already in his bed (as was the baby) and so I was helping his sister, Jordan (age 6), get ready. She was in her bed, waiting for me to come read to her, when Bennett called out that he had to "go potty." Thus, I went and got him and took him to the bathroom. We stripped him naked, from the waist down, and he did his business.

Well, once he was done, I told him to go to his room to get changed again. On his way there, though, he spotted Jordan laying in her bed, waiting for me. He rushed towards her, calling out, "Jordan, HUG!"

She looked at him (and his naked bottom) with such complete and utter disgust and, in no uncertain terms she announced, "You are not putting that penis on my bed."

If only the poor girl knew she has a liftetime ahead of her where she'll get to say those same exact words! :-)

Late to my own baby delivery

This past May, I gave birth to baby #3. This is how it went . . .

Why is it that things just never seem to go smoothly for me??? My c-section was scheduled for 10 am on Tuesday. I had been told this numerous times by my dr’s office and her nurse. We discussed (again, numerous times) that I should be there by 8 am. Anyway, I was up at 5:30, got dressed and packed and was in the midst of getting the kids ready at 6:30 am. The plan was that my inlaws would take Jordan (age 5) to school at 8 am and then head to the hospital and Rob and I would take Bennett (age 22 months) to school at 7 am on our way to the hospital. My parents were just going to meet us there before the surgery.

Anyway, at 6:30 am the phone rang. I thought it must be my parents or some friends calling to wish us luck. I answered it and it was the hospital calling. They told me that my c-section was scheduled for 8 am and that I was already a half hour late! I almost passed out. I said, “No, I was told it was scheduled for 10 am and to GET there at 8 am.” The nurse apologized and said it must be a mistake on their end and we got off the phone. But, I decided not to leave it to chance and so I called my dr’s office and had her paged and she called me back. She said, “Hey, Kelly. What’s up?” I said, “I’m just checking to make sure that you have my surgery down for 10 am.” She paused and said, “No, I have it down for 8 am.” AAAAGH!!!

I told her what I had been told and that now I was already 45 minutes late and the hospital was a good 20 minutes away (WITHOUT rush hour traffic!) She told me to jump in the car and start driving.

So, that’s what I did. I told Rob, “I gotta go!” He couldn’t leave with me because the inlaws hadn’t come over yet. Poor Jordan barely got to say goodbye to me. I kissed her and said, “Mommy’s leaving to have the baby!” and ran out the door. I hadn’t even gotten Bennett out of his crib yet!

I got in Rob’s car only to realize he had NO gas in it – we hadn’t been planning on taking his car to the hospital. So, I had to stop and get gas first and then I hopped on the highway – which, by then, was PACKED with cars for rush hour. I then proceeded to cry – sob, really – the WHOLE WAY there. I was thinking, “Not only am I late to my own surgery, but there is NO WAY Rob is going to make it” – and, as many of you know, I don’t do very well during c-sections. I have bad panic attacks when I feel like I can’t breathe. So, here I am, crying as I drive the car in rush hour, worried that even if they find time to still “fit me in” to the hospital and my doctor’s schedule and take the baby out today, Rob won’t be there for it. In addition, I had to call my parents and ask them to head toward my house to get Bennett and take him to school since my inlaws didn’t know where he went. And, for some reason, both my inlaws cell phones were busy, so I couldn’t reach them to ask them to head over any earlier than the planned 7 am. Rob, from what I hear, did his best to rush the kids into getting ready faster (not an easy task in our house!) Jordan kept telling him that “Mommy said I didn’t have to get dressed until Nana got here!” – which had been the truth when I thought all was going along with my pre-planned schedule!

Anyway, when that was all taken care of, I decided to call my friend, Michele, to ask her to pray that it would all work out and to help calm me down. I dialed her number as I drove and she answered the phone. It sounded like I just woke her up and so I said, “Michele?” She said, “yes.” I said, “Are you awake?” She said, “yes,” at which point I started to sob even harder, telling her how I was late for my surgery, how I was driving myself to give birth, how Rob was going to miss it, etc. I went on and on when suddenly she said, “Who is this again?” Oh My Gosh. I said, “Isn’t this Michele?” She said, very sweetly, “No, sweetheart. I think you have the wrong number.”

Are you kidding me?

Could the day possibly get any worse????

I eventually arrived at the hospital, found a spot in the parking garage and ran in – still sobbing. When the front desk realized that I was headed toward labor and delivery they kept telling me they’d get me a wheelchair. I had to promise them that I was NOT in labor – just late to my own delivery.

I got to the right floor and then had to check in. The guy at admissions must have thought I was a nutcase. It didn’t take long, though, for the two nurses who were “assigned” to me for the delivery to find me and calm me down. They kept reassuring me that the doctor knew I was there, that she was on her way, that they’d get me into the OR as quickly as possible, that everything would be alright, etc.

Then, the guy at admissions asked me if my husband would be there for the birth and I started to sob all over again!

To make a long story even longer . . . all turned out fine. Rob showed up just in the knick of time. My doctor told me she was glad she had the extra time to go get herself a cup of coffee and Maclain (that's our new son) made his appearance at 8:46 am, nearly an hour and a half before I even thought I’d be entering the operating room.

In actuality, I was the calmest I have ever been during a delivery – how ironic.

The hospital stay was pretty relaxing. I got a lot of sleep, watched a lot of HGTV and bonded with my new little boy. (Who, by the way, is yet another blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby.) How does that happen????

For starters . . .

I'm new to the whole "blogging" thing, but . . . I have been emailing my friends stories for years. Stories that revolve around my kids, my husband, my life . . . stories that seem to make my friends smile and maybe even laugh out loud. They've been encouraging me to share these stories through a format other than email, and so here we are . . .

While I "get the hang" of this blog, I'm going to begin by posting some "oldie, but goodie" emails that I sent out to everyone.

I hope my friends reading this enjoy reading them again. And, for those new friends out there, I hope they make you smile.

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