Guess which babies are going to be on Courteney Cox's TV show?

A few weeks ago I was chatting with a mom from my twins group WLAPOM (West LA Parents of Multiples or "Oui La Pomme" as Ian calls it, which, coincidentally is French for "yes, the apple"). This mom told me that twins are very desirable for television work, even if they're not identical. She should know, because her kids booked multiple episodes on a show and they're a boy and a girl. I've never been very attracted to the idea of hauling my kids around to sit and wait at an audition, surrounded by hundreds of other hopeful moms about to get their dreams crushed, but when she told me that she's never done an audition AND all the money they made was set aside for college funds, I decided it wouldn't hurt to check it out.
Several weeks later out of the blue the agent called. Jack and Christian had been selected to attend a "paid interview" for Courteney Cox's series (in it's second season) Cougar Town. They wanted to talk to the moms to see how we were to work with, and the agent's assistant recommended bringing Baby Einstein toys for them to play with so they'd be fun and interactive. Three sets of twins were being interviewed and two sets would be selected to be on multiple episodes so the odds of getting picked were pretty good.
Oh. Ok. I hung up and wasn't exactly sure what my response should be. I chose: I'm not going to make a big deal about this. But then I wasn't sure. Shouldn't I at least try a little to have them get chosen? I vacillated between grilling myself on possible questions and what my responses should be (mental notes went something like this: make sure to tell them the boys were on a USC student film and they LOVED being on set, as did I!! Everyone was thrilled to work with us!!!!) and debating about whether I should give the boys a bath that day because I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard. In the process, I was, of course, making a big deal about it.
When Monday rolled around I had a lot to do! I had to drive out to Van Nuys to the Board of Labor building (which is now closed the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Fridays of the month to cut the state budget deficit) and show the uncaring lady at the desk the kids' birth certificates so she could do up work permits. (It's for TV, whoopdee do she eye-rolled). While we waited I overheard batches of moms with sullen, extra-groomed kids in tow talking about how 'their agents should have faxed it in' and 'you promise it will be ready today? And what's your name?' I had to get Ian to run to the bank on the studio lot and set up a required Coogan account so our kids wouldn't be like little Jackie Coogan whose parents blew his millions and left him penniless when he grew out of his child stardom. Because after all, they could be making millions too. They could!
When we got home I bathed the babies, and then I thought about trying to trim Jack's hair so it would be the same length as Christian's. Ian told me that was way too much, so I tried to get his hair a little more curly so it would at least match more. (We were asked to dress them in matching clothes, but it wasn't necessary). I realized that I had a couple perfectly adequate matching outfits, but they were stained or shrunken a bit and I wanted my kids to look amazing for their first TV opportunity that would be the start of it all!
I rushed to the mall and bought super cute long sleeved shirts and matching overalls with a dog made of buttons on the front (it's for an interview for a TV show! I told the sales clerk. she nodded knowingly). The outfits cost more than the babies were making that day, but I didn't care. I had completely thrown my 'don't make it a big deal' strategy out the window because this had become a VERY BIG HUGE FREAKING DEAL. I hurried back, woke Christian up, dressed them both and headed over to Culver City for 'the interview,' my heart pounding and my palms greasy.
I pulled up to a huge set with hundreds of people milling about. The security guard pointed me to the 2nd Assistant Director. My guess is that she's in her very late thirties, but she looked much older. She was boney and her face was lined with stress wrinkles from a decade of running around on production sets. She smiled tightly and pointed me over to a grassy lawn where two women who were dressed alike held twin boys, also dressed alike. They were standing downwind from a grill that was churning out tons of smoke as it fed the masses seated under shade tents nearby. Somehow I had envisioned an air-conditioned room with couches and more attentive handlers. The other babies were dressed in well worn clothes, they were not wearing brand new outfits. This was not going according to plan. Then two other women, each holding identically matched baby boys, also in casual, well worn clothes, showed up on the lawn. As I was putting Jack and Christian in their stroller, the 2nd AD and another lady walked by and glanced at them, then headed over to the other moms on the lawn. I grabbed some wipes and scrubbed the babies' faces. As I walked up to the lawn the 2nd AD was asking the other moms if they could come tomorrow at 11 and 1:30pm. The other babies were pretty cute, and smaller than Jack and Christian, but my kids were definitely cuter. Let's get this started, I thought. Then I heard the 2nd AD say, OK, you guys can pack it up.
I haven't exchanged a single word with anyone yet, I thought. Must be some mistake. The other moms and I stood around and chatted for awhile and waited some more, they all told me they thought I was so brave to come alone... I was really wishing I had brought someone else with me so I'd be a little more together.
Then another lady told us, very loudly, we were done and it was time to pack it up and they'd give us a call with their decision. But they didn't hold my babies, I told her. They saw everyone and made a decision. We'll give you a call, she said.
WHAT?!? That was IT?? I hadn't even talked to anyone. Had anyone actually gotten a good look at my kids? So that glance back by my car? THAT was 'the interview.' And as I realized that the 2nd AD hadn't directed her question about showing up the next day to me...
In my mind, I know that this process is like going to the hardware store and looking for a particular size of screw- and Jack and Christian were not the 'size' or whatever you want to call it, that they needed for this show. The screws that don't get picked don't get mad or feel screwed, ;), they realize they weren't the right size, fill out their forms, and go home to set the table and check their email. In my mind I know this, but to my surprise, a huge sob was demanding to be released from my throat.
I never did get a call, and as the irksome silence sent me into a tailspin, I realized I had done a TERRIBLE job of making the whole thing no big deal. I can't believe I was thinking about trimming Jack's hair!! And I felt like the world's biggest dork for buying brand new outfits and making up question answers in my head. Oh dear, oh dear, my propensity to go the extra mile is good for some things, but definitely not for this.
As I started to drive myself crazy by replaying 'the glance' in my mind (if only I had someone else with me to hold the babies so they weren't in their stroller practically on the road, or if I hadn't been by my dirty car which I should have washed!) I realized how much I love being the one that gets picked and have exciting things happen to me. Don't we all. And I realized that there probably wasn't anything differently I could have done. I tried my hardest, I did my best, (to a fault?) and sometimes, or maybe most of the time, you just don't get picked. Living in Los Angeles means we're close to having exciting things happen, but in some ways we're just as far away as someone living in Nebraska. So. Ian and I both decided it would be best for our family if we didn't go out on anymore 'interviews'. It's just not a good fit for me.
As we joked around with the boys, and I put the babies down for the night and chatted with Ian, I savored our time together. While it wasn't my first choice, I'm glad that I don't have to worry about running my kids around, leaving Caleb and Julian at home, and being immersed in the child actor milieu on a bustling, crazy set on a show about divorced women getting it on. As the day revealed, even as I tried to be sensible, I shot all the way over to one extreme on the balance beam with such speed that I frightened myself. And for what? I thought, I'm really happy here, in my living room, with my kids and my husband. And this is where the universe wants me right now.
So yeah, some baby boys around 11months old are going to be on Cougar Town, but not mine. And the first chance I got, I returned the outfits. Figured I may as well save the money for the kids' college fund ;)