Sunday, October 16, 2011

I am not one of those moms who believes my kid is the best looking baby in the world.  Do I think he's unusually cute?  Of course.  But, I'm not about to spend money on professional head shots and submit them to a modeling agency.  In fact, I've always thought those moms and dads who travel around promoting their kids and entering their offspring in contests are pathetic, embarrassing, and exploitative. 

So, when I saw this posting from my fave kid's store Magic Beans on my Facebook newsfeed...

"Casting Call: We need some cuties! We're doing a photoshoot for the holiday issue of our magalog, Surprises on Monday, October 10th and we need models. If you'd like your kid to participate, please send an email to facebook@mbeans.com with your child's age, clothing size, and a snapshot!"

...I, without a question in my mind, thought...

Hell no.  I have a firm position on these sorts of things.  And that's NO.

PICK ME!  My kid can model.  He's so cute.  He does tricks on demands.  He loves the camera.  Please, pretty please, with a cherry on top!

(The heck with values.  He could be famous.) 

So, I quickly sent an email with the requested stats, crossed my fingers, and immediately started working with Ari on his modeling pose and hair-do.

Impressive, eh?

So we waited.  And we practiced.  And we starved ourselves.  And we watched Zoolander.

And then, this popped up in my inbox:

"Dear JulieSue,

Thank you so much for submitting your child's photo for our casting call. We would be delighted if you and Ari can join us on Monday, October 10. We actually have sort of a special request. We're wondering if you'd be interested in modeling as well. We need a shot with a mom pushing a stroller and thought you and Ari would be perfect for it. Let me know ASAP if you're willing :) We'd just need you to wear skinny jeans, a cute top and maybe some simple ballet flats (or something along those lines) and Ari to wear something green."

I had to re-read it 3 times.  They wanted Ari.  Obvi.  And, did I read this right...were they asking ME to model as well?!  OMG.  Could this get any better?  Yes, it could have been anything but skinny jeans.  I think not.

So Ari and I spent hours trying on different outfits, settled on a pair of straight-leg jeans, a grey cardigan, and blue flats.  I did my hair.  Okay, you're right.  I got a blow out.  And then I did my own make-up.  Really.  And I looked pretty good.  (Ari who?)

At the last minute, I switched into a different top because it was an unusually hot and humid day, woke my little hombre from his afternoon nap, packed the diaper bag, and off we went to catalog stardom.  Now, if you recall the last time I was this excited about something, it was for my cameo in an Adam Sandler movie.  (What does this say about me?  Nothing good.)  As it turns out, the two experiences were eerily similar.  It was hot, there was a lot of waiting around, and by the time we were called in to shoot, I was oily and frizzy and I had to pee.  Ari still looked good.  He sat in a stroller and smiled.  (And he was a natural.)  I pretended to push the stroller.  (And I was an awkward mess.)  .

Click. Click. Click.  Before I could regret my wardrobe decision, it was over.  Bye bye lights, camera, Tyra Banks, action. 

It was a fun experience, but I am pretty sure I won't be America's next top mo(m)del. 

Ari, on the other hand...

...will learn there's more to life than being really, really ridiculously good looking.


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