Mommywood (3 page)

When it matters to him, I hope I‘ll have given him all the tools he needs to be able to live out of the spotlight if that‘s what he chooses.

Baby Honeymoon

W
hen Liam was born, Dean and I took two months off
Tori &
Dean: Inn Love
. We had a maternity/paternity leave. It was a brief, idyllic period when Liam got to be a baby just like any other baby and I felt just like every other mom.

At first I was breastfeeding constantly. But I wasn‘t producing enough milk, so I supplemented with a bottle. We fell quickly into a rhythm. Liam would sleep, wake up, nurse, have a bottle, play, go back to sleep. He slept a lot, and I had downtime during the day for the first time in years. Patsy (remember, our baby nurse) got me back on soap operas. I hadn‘t seen soap operas in years. But nothing changes on soap operas. They practically move in real time. Here were all the same characters and story lines that I remembered from ten years before. In one day I was completely caught up. And hooked. So the schedule was more like watch
All My Children,
nurse Liam, watch
One
Life to Live,
give Liam his bottle, watch
General Hospital,
nurse Liam, watch
Oprah,
and so on. It was a taste of what being a stay-at-home mom would be like, and I loved it. (Okay, a stay-at-home mom with full-time help—not realistic, I know.) After a little bit we started to take Liam out in the world. I‘d never had a baby before. I didn‘t know what to expect. But Liam was happy to go anywhere. We‘d bring him to a restaurant in his car seat carrier. If he was awake, he‘d look around and smile. If he was tired, he‘d take a nap. Having a baby was a piece of cake. Patsy told us not every baby was so accommodating. We‘d been blessed with an easy baby and we took full advantage. We were blissfully happy and we wanted to celebrate. We went out for brunches, dinners, and drinks. It was the hotel hop—the Four Seasons for cocktails, the Peninsula for tea, the Beverly Hills Hotel for early dinner. Sometimes it was just the three of us: Dean, Liam, and me. Sometimes we brought Patsy to show her places she‘d never been before and tell her stories about what had gone down at one hotel or another in my single days. Every day we went out to walk and eat at least one meal with Liam.

The baby nurse, the fancy hotels, the time off, the easy baby—

these made us different from some, but the feelings we had were just like those of any new parents. It was so exciting. We were so proud.

When our two-month break was over, we went back home to our duties running our bed-and-breakfast, and our cameras followed for the second season of
Tori & Dean: Inn Love
. We packed up our car, drove up to the inn, showed Liam around, and settled in. Within a few days the phone rang. It was an offer from the TV station that was launching the first season of our show in England. They wanted us to come to London to promote the premiere. I ran to tell Dean the news. Dean‘s initial reaction was to say, ―No way! We just got geared up to work here. Liam is two months old. We can‘t do it.

I said, ―But they‘ll fly the whole family! And Patsy! To Europe! We should do it. It‘d be really great. The show could follow us there and film the trip.

Dean still thought the idea was insane. He said, ―Okay, it‘s crazy to do this right now. We‘re still adjusting to the new baby.

But as long as we‘re there, I want to take you to Scotland.

Dean‘s family is Scottish. He wanted me to see the homeland.

So now we were going to London and Scotland. And then to Toronto to do press for the Canadian release of the show. Our little trip grew to three weeks long.

We boarded the flight and walked to our seats in first class.

Peter Falk had the seat in front of me, and as soon as he saw that we were traveling with an infant, he pushed the call button. We heard him grumbling and talking with the flight attendant, and then they moved him upstairs (it was one of those double-decker planes with two stories of first-class seats). We were a little insulted. Why wouldn‘t someone want to sit near a baby? We didn‘t know it was unusual that Liam never fussed. Now I don‘t blame Peter Falk for moving. How could he have known that Monkey was an angel baby?

Liam did everything with us. He slept in cribs at the hotels.

He came to every stop we made on our media tour. We went on
Friday Night with Jonathan Ross,
who‘s like the Jay Leno of Europe, and Liam and Patsy hung out in the green room waiting for us. The chef Gordon Ramsay was on the show the same night we were. Dean is a huge fan of his. Gordon got us reservations at his newest restaurant, Maze. It is one of those hot, trendy restaurants that you usually need to book far in advance. We brought Monkey in his pajamas. As we ate the chef‘s tasting menu at nine p.m. on a Friday night, Liam was snuggled up in his car seat, sound asleep. That was the moment when I thought,
Wow, you don’t have to change your life for the
children
. Liam was fine. More than that, he was happy to be with us.

Part of me worried about the Peter Falk factor—that people would judge us for bringing a baby to a fancy restaurant. There was something awkward about arriving at a hip, upscale restaurant and asking them to put the stroller somewhere. It felt a little inappropriate. But we knew Liam would be quiet and we figured a little extra gear never hurt anyone.

In Scotland we took the opportunity to visit some local bed-and-breakfasts, just to see the difference. They were all very cute and charming. One day I didn‘t feel so hot and I wondered out loud if I could be pregnant again. Once the idea entered my head, I liked the sound of it. Dean and I knew we wanted more kids. Monkey was only two months old and I was still naïve about how children would affect our lives. Being a parent seemed so easy. And I‘d loved being pregnant so much. I missed being pregnant. I thought,
Great, perfect, another one.
I felt a little sad when I found out I wasn‘t pregnant. Maybe it was soap opera withdrawal, with a touch of jet lag. But I knew it would have been crazy: we weren‘t ready yet.

As we flew home with our peaceful babe in arms, I thought about how much had already happened in Liam‘s short life. If this was what raising a child and being a TV star meant, then so far it seemed harmless. Not just harmless, it was great! Liam was traveling. He was seeing the world. One day we‘d take him back to Maze. We‘d tell him how young he‘d been when he first went. When we returned, he‘d be old enough to taste the pressed marinated foie gras with Lincolnshire smoked eel, baked potato foam, and dill, or the confit rare-breed Sussex pork belly, pig‘s head, quince confiture, and parsnips. He‘d see the land of Dean‘s ancestors again, and next time he‘d remember what he saw. It wasn‘t a ―normal childhood, but we could make it a good one.

It was still probably too soon to tell, but having Liam didn‘t feel like a disruption. It felt like a gift. When work started up again, my soap opera habit was gone for good. No more midday TV. No more working on Liam‘s baby book. My days of being a stay-at-home mom had been all too brief. What I most regretted was the state of the blanket I was knitting for Liam. I started the blanket on the set of
Smallville
in Vancouver, just after we‘d announced that I was pregnant. I fantasized that he would take it to college and say, ―My mom made this for me before I was born. Then, when he got married, he‘d show his wife the blanket and say, ―My mom made this for me before I was born.

One day he‘d have his own little boy. He‘d give him the blanket and say…Oh, you get my point. When work kicked in again, I had to put the blanket aside. It‘s in a storage bin somewhere, still unfinished. If I stayed home to complete it, we‘d never be able to afford for him to take it away to college. But I figure I still have time to work on it. I have until he‘s old enough to leave for college, don‘t I?

Daddy’s Boy

L
eaving Liam to work on our show was an issue for me. Of all the things I wanted to do differently from my own mother, most important was that I wanted to be there. I always planned to raise my kids myself instead of leaving it all to a nanny. But I‘m a working mom. I have to have help when we‘re doing the show.

There are even some days when Liam‘s babysitter is with him all day long. It‘s really hard for me. It‘s an ongoing struggle, and it‘s one I expected. What I didn‘t expect was the challenge of being married to a hands-on dad.

Ever since Dean and I met, we have spent all our time together. Then we started spending all our free time in a threesome. Um, I‘m talking about Liam, of course. Dean loves children, and that‘s part of what attracted me to him. Liam has a poopy diaper? Dean is on it. Liam takes a tumble? Dean‘s there before he hits the ground. Time to get Liam out of the car seat?

Dean‘s already doing it. I want to do all those things for Liam, it‘s just that Dean always gets there first. When it comes to parenting he consistently beats me to the punch. He swoops right in there so fast that I‘m left saying, ―Um…I can do that…

to a no-longer-crying baby or an empty car.

When we brought Liam home from the hospital, the first thing Dean said to our baby nurse, Patsy, was ―I change a mean diaper. Within minutes they were having a showdown, demonstrating their flawless high-speed diaper changes and swaddling techniques. Meanwhile, I was still in the beginner‘s ring. I was like, ―Excuse me, guys? The cartoon characters go in the front, right?

There‘s a reason he could change a mean diaper: he‘d done it before. Dean has a son, Jack, from his first marriage. Dean‘s experience often comes in handy. Back when I was pregnant, I‘d gotten excited about a cool high-tech diaper pail and Dean said,

―Oh, Jack had that one. It doesn‘t work. Later, when Liam had blisters on his toes and it turned out to be hand, foot, and mouth disease or hoof, tail, and tooth disease or whatever, Dean just said, ―Jack had that, it‘s no big deal. Even when Liam had a seizure (more on that later), Dean was unfazed: ―Jack had those too. He grew out of them. He saw Jack learn to walk; he heard Jack learn to talk. It‘s great that Dean has experience. It‘s nice that he‘s calm when I‘m worried. But even though we share all of the big parenting moments, bad or good, I don‘t get to share the newness with anyone. It makes me sad sometimes.

From the very beginning, whenever Liam woke up, Dean flew out of bed, grabbed the bottle, and went in to him. That was great, but it happened every morning, and I started to feel like I never had a chance to give my son his bottle. As far as Dean was concerned, it was no big deal. He heard the baby, grabbed the bottle, and went in. But in my mind, who would be the first to get to Liam became a race. I started calculating: if I have the monitor on my side of the bed and make myself wake up early enough, then I‘ll see his head pop up before he makes a noise and I can flip off the monitor and shoot out of bed before Dean stirs.

I know how ridiculous this complaining sounds: ―Husbands, they‘re always trying to do more than their share of the child rearing. Are you with me, mommies? But it affected me because of how I was raised and how much I‘d told myself that
I
was going to be there for my child at all times. Plus, Liam was getting older. He was changing from a blob (albeit a lovable one) into a baby who could express desires. As soon as he could speak, he started turning into a Daddy‘s boy. When Dean walked into the room, Liam screamed, ―Dada! Meanwhile I walked in and…I could be the plumber. Not even—a plumber at least has cool tools. If we were in the car and Dean got out to pump gas or get a coffee, Liam got hysterical, even though I was sitting right there saying, ―It‘s okay, Liam. Mama‘s here. Dada will be right back. It bugged me. The doctors always said, ―Oh, kids go back and forth. Today it‘s the dad. Tomorrow it‘s the mom. My friends said the same thing. It was a phase. But for Liam, today was the dad, tomorrow was the dad, the next day was the dad…When was it going to switch to me? In the back of my mind I couldn‘t help wondering if there was something he wasn‘t getting from me. Maybe he wasn‘t feeling the maternal connection. Maybe I was repeating the past.

There were times when I was holding Liam and he‘d scream and cry and lunge for Dean. I know this happens all the time: a baby wants his father. But when Liam gave the smallest sign that he wanted to be with Dean, I‘d think I‘d already failed. I‘d hand him over, saying, ―He hates me. My own child hates me. I even had a moment when I decided that there was a maternal scent. You know how dogs can smell if people are dog people?

Well, maybe there was a smell that babies recognized as coming from a maternal person and
I didn’t have the smell
. Or worse—

maybe I had an antibaby smell! Maybe it ran in the family.

Maybe it was the Candy Curse! I was so afraid of becoming her that I convinced myself I wasn‘t meant to be a mom.

Finally, Dean sat me down for an intervention. He said,

―You have to stop saying Liam hates you. Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy? You‘re a really good mom. You just have to believe in yourself.

You don‘t start believing in yourself because someone tells you that you should. You have to make changes. Maybe it was a phase, but even so I needed to spend more time with Liam—

more
alone
time. I know I‘m lucky to have a husband like Dean, but when you have such an enthusiastic partner you kinda forget how to function solo.

One day it came time for Liam‘s swim class and Dean couldn‘t go with me. This was my chance. Operation Make Liam a Mama‘s Boy had begun. I was excited to get some time to myself with my son, and I could feel reasonably confident that he wouldn‘t lunge for Daddy‘s arms when Daddy wasn‘t anywhere in sight. But as I plunked him awkwardly into the car seat and fumbled with the straps I realized,
Wow, I don’t
actually take him in the car by myself very often.
I was always with Liam, but how much of the heavy lifting did I actually do?