Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [9]
I was on cloud nine—“Hallelujah! I’m feeding my baby!”—and suddenly the producers of the show were knocking on my bedroom door saying, “We need to film this now!” Well, Hank and I went off on them. This was the first time our baby was breast-feeding and we needed to share this intimate moment. Hank yelled and got mad, screaming, “Get out of the room right now.” That’s my man!
That was a huge reality check for us. On the one hand we had invited these cameras into our lives to film us and we knew that was our paycheck, our job, our security. But on the other hand being new parents and having to go through all hours of the night and day with cameras rolling . . . it just wasn’t a good fit. It was just too much pressure. Talk about a father reaching his boiling point though.
I just wasn’t prepared for them to knock on the door like that. I will never let that happen again. I’m always struggling to find the balance between my family and my career, and I can’t afford to have either of them compromised. I know how to live in both worlds but if anyone’s going to combine them it’s going to be me, not a camera crew.
Hank and I came up with some rules for the show and the producers, the most important of which was to respect the baby’s feeding time. If you want to shoot me feeding him, just sit there and press “record.” Don’t tell me to say anything or do anything else. Don’t laugh, don’t help, and don’t pitch in, just film. Be a fly on the wall because if you’re not I will swat your ass. I learned my lesson and the producers learned theirs and I think we are all better off and happier because of it.
When you’re a new parent there’s no time to sit down and hold a town hall meeting. As a mom there’s no democracy; you are the dictator and everyone else has to listen to your rules, take it or leave it. In a family someone has to take the lead and make decisions, and in my family that’s me.
What am I getting at here? Well, modern motherhood means making your own path through uncharted waters. I have a lot going on in my life, but I can still be a good mom even if I’m not staying at home all day with an apron on. The role of a 1950s mom is just so completely foreign. I’ve got to give it to all of the moms who came before me; they did a hell of a job. But times have changed. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I’m still going to go out and drink with my hubby, I’m still going to look hot (who says moms can’t wear thongs!), and I’m still going to shake my booty on the dance floor. But hopefully I’ll be in bed and sober (PS: Chugging some Pedialyte is the ultimate hangover prevention and cure—it’s electrolytes without all the sugar) before the sun comes up. Because my little baby’s going to be up at the crack of dawn.
I knew my life changed the moment that baby popped out of me. I had a pretty good idea of who I was and where I was going, but then I became a mother and everything was different. So allowing my TV show to film my first years as a mom just added to the stress I thought I’d already be prepared for! I had not only brought my work home with me, I had let it set up cameras in every room.
My son, Hank, born and raised in Indianapolis, Indiana—ha!
And no matter how much help you have (or lack thereof oftentimes in my case), if you are a neurotic mom obsessed with perfection and planning every aspect of your child’s life right down to the number of ounces of milk he drinks for a snack, then balance becomes even harder. I find myself wanting to micromanage everything in baby Hank’s world because I love him and I want to protect him. And I’m scared that I won’t always be able to protect him. But I’m striving to navigate that, to find a way to be there and not suffocate him. I feel like I should be there for every milestone and experience in Hank’s life, which puts extra pressure on me. So while I recognize the importance of the nanny, I get paranoid that I’m going to miss something in the