Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [21]
So my husband was leaving me and I was in a panic at this point, with the show in even more of a panic. We were all at a crossroads—basically we couldn’t film anymore if I left Philly, since that was the only place set up for production. I would have happily moved back to L.A. but I had to stay in Philly (separated from my husband) because of the show. E! didn’t have the budget approved to follow us to Minnesota or L.A., nor did they have any filming permits, as those take several weeks to get. To set up a home for filming, they needed to install bright lights and shades and get the whole production crew there and arrange for them to stay in a hotel, not to mention work out paperwork, insurance, and everything else that goes with making a TV show. At best that would have taken a month. So even if I did decide to go to Minnesota, we wouldn’t have been able to film there immediately. None of this was my fault and I immaturely told E! they should have had plan B set up in advance, which they didn’t.
If I quit the show then I’d have been unemployed. That wouldn’t have bothered either of us before, but it was a wake-up call when the Eagles cut Hank. We realized we were a decision or so away from both being unemployed, homeless, and frankly on the verge of a separation, so we couldn’t take any chances. We both pushed forward with work because though we may have been oblivious to it before, we now knew our jobs were never guaranteed.
Life was hell. On TV nobody saw what really happened in Philly; you didn’t see me crying into my pillow or staring up at the ceiling all night instead of sleeping. They made it seem like everything was set up for us nice and easy, but that was hardly the case. On TV it looks like we flew to Philly and ended up in this nice penthouse. But that’s certainly not how it happened.
I spent a lot of time alone in Philadelphia with the baby after that, and while I may have thought I was making an effort to have friends and a life there, it just didn’t work. I knew I would be leaving soon, so subconsciously I hardly made an effort. Sadly that had been my mind-set for several years, since I never stayed in one location more than a couple of months at a time. I felt like an outcast, alone in a big city where I didn’t know anyone except for a digital Skype image of my husband a couple minutes per day.
I may have mentally been alone, but physically there were people coming in and out of my apartment all day. I still had a show to film, with or without my husband. Never mind the fact that I didn’t put a lot of effort into friend making; it was virtually impossible anyway given my schedule. We were in a mad scramble to make the show work, given the giant wrench that was just thrown into the overall plan and plot.
In order to make it through the day, I needed to enlist help to do the “dad/husband” things that I just wouldn’t be able to take care of while looking after Hank Jr. and working. We had the dog walkers, and my assistant, Eddie, came over every day (he lived in a hotel across the street) to wake me up and give me coffee and a breakfast burrito from a little café nearby. I don’t miss my Philadelphia situation overall, but if there’s anything I do miss about it it’s the burritos, the coffee, and, of course, the cheesesteaks. Something about a big city like that churns out amazingly greasy and delicious comfort foods.
The baby would wake up around sunrise and I’d feed him. As I woke up, the production team would start filtering into our apartment, setting up tripods and lights and wires, all while I’m trying to get Hank Jr. (oh, and myself too I guess) ready for the day. Then I would put the baby down for a nap, and while he was sleeping, we’d start to film the show. Until, of course, the