My Family is Not Screwed Up Enough For TV

Just what the hell does the title of today’s blog post mean? Well, to explain, I need to go back in time a couple of weeks.

I was contacted on my author Facebook account by an individual. Let’s call him Barry.

Well, not quite who I meant, but sure, let's go with it.

Well, not quite who I meant, but sure, let’s go with it.

Apparently, he’d read one of my blogs on parenting and wanted to get in contact with me about potentially being a part of a new television series about gay parenting. I was like:





So, I didn’t give it much thought until I checked my e-mail. Guess what I found?

That's right! Another e-mail from Barry!

That’s right! Another e-mail from Barry!

I clicked on the link Barry provided, and it took me directly to a casting studio. And right there on the website was the general casting call for the show Barry was inquiring about.

It was real.

The diva in me instantly began contemplating the various wardrobes I’d have to purchase. If I was gonna be on television, I needed to be seen in brand new clothes.

That would be a good start

That would be a good start

I couldn’t wear what I’ve been wearing all summer.

You're speaking to the choir, Endora!

You’re speaking to the choir, Endora!

Then there was the new haircut. Just how would I style my hair for television? Did I need highlights or maybe just a color? I am forty now, and there’s a bit more grey on my head than I’m used to. I needed to call my hairstylist pronto!

Yes, Tabitha does my hair. What? You don't believe me?

Yes, Tabitha does my hair. What? You don’t believe me?

So as I had my people call Tabitha’s people, I mentally planned the inevitable shopping spree as well as the customary changing room montage we’ve all seen in some of our favorite movies.

Then I realized I’d forgotten about two important facts: I had yet to call the man back or broach the subject with my husband.

Yeah, that was an OOPS!

Yeah, that was an OOPS!

I called my husband and told him about the offer. After talking to him, I called Barry’s number he provided in the e-mail. During the conversation, he informed me that the show was about “extreme parenting” and that it was for Bravo.

All I heard was Bravo! The former home of Project Runway and Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List. The channel that featured the first and only gay-themed Bachelor-type reality show Boy Meets Boy. Where Queer Eye for the Straight Guy first aired, and home to the one-season only disaster I loved to watch Hey Paula.

Then I realized Barry was still talking, and that I hadn’t been listening. I’d been too busy accepting my Emmy for Best New Reality Show.

And the Emmy for Outstanding Lead in a Reality Show goes to...

And the Emmy for Outstanding Lead in a Reality Show goes to…


Um, where was I again? Oh, yeah, the phone call.

Well, Barry was going on about extreme parenting. What the hell did that mean? Was extreme parenting something like taking your kids skydiving to teach them about the importance of a parachute in life?

I needed some clarification.

Apparently, “extreme parenting” meant spoiling your children to excess. Or being a helicopter parent who never let your kids out of your sight. Or being extremely permissive and letting your teenager have sex and providing the condoms and the bedroom.


That’s just a


Well, after talking to Barry about how my husband and I parent, well, he wasn’t very interested in us. My Emmy dreams were dashed yet again!

Susan Lucci, I feel your pain!

Susan Lucci, I feel your pain!

But it didn’t last. In fact, I’d never felt better in my life.

Being rejected for television meant that my family wasn’t a train wreck. Sure, we have our issues. What family doesn’t? We fight, we laugh, we cry, but most importantly we love and support each other.

While that might not make good drama for television, it makes our lives great.

To me, that’s better than any award.