How do you have a baby and a career? I know people do it all the time, but I admit that I am baffled about the practicalities. Maybe it is easier if you work outside of your home. I don’t, and when I try to get anything done Sam starts typing on my computer or climbing the stairs or yelling or asking for milk or bringing me his favorite book or otherwise needing my attention.
So what I’m getting at is that it’s hard for me to work at home. I manage it, but just barely.
And then there is the part of working that forces you to leave the house once in a while. You know — meetings. Since most of the work I’ve done in the past year and a half has been for employers in Seattle and San Francisco and otherwise not in Los Angeles, so meetings have all taken place on the phone. And my blogging jobs tend to involve communication via email — even blogging.la, though we do meet up in person once in a while. Doing internet work lends itself to internet communication, naturally, so I don’t have to leave the house much for work.
Working as a writing team is a great thing for Will and me, creatively. But it presents us with a rather unique problem: there is no one to stay home with the baby when we go to meetings. With the rewrite, this wasn’t a problem because Will’s co-producer on the project has a five-month-old baby, so we all get together and play while we talk business. With the other rewrite it worked out fine because we just said we were bringing Sam to our only in-person meeting (which was at a diner).
But today we had a real honest-to-god official meeting at a production company. We were pitching them our take on a property they own the rights to (a comic book you’ve never heard of) which we want to write as a screenplay. For money. You know. So it was a pretty important meeting.
I won’t hire a babysitter, as such. Sam has only ever been without us on a handful of occasions, all for less than an hour and only with our mothers and Uccellina (all separately). I am not comfortable leaving him with anyone he doesn’t know and trust — though frankly, he seems pretty comfortable with the checkout clerk at Trader Joe’s, so maybe I should worry more about my own comfort. I asked Erin, who sometimes goes for walks with us and doesn’t have a 9-5, but she had a gig this week. I am delighted for her, but was kind of stuck for other ideas. I had resigned myself to Will pitching without me. And really, that would have been fine. I’d have gone with him (the executive wanted to meet Sam anyway) and then excused myself to walk the baby around the neighborhood. Will has my proxy. It would have been fine.
And then Tem called, and he’s in town, and he offered to come with us. Sam hasn’t seen him since he was 2 months old. But it is amazing how quickly my rule of only people Sam knows goes out the window when it is someone I’ve known for nearly 15 years.
The meeting went well. Very well. I mean, no one threw money at us (which is a pity, as I have always longed to be in a position to duck flying hundreds) but there is a next step.
And tomorrow we meet with a manager who liked our original script enough to inquire whether we are seeking representation. I don’t know if it will go anywhere, but I am hopeful. And Tem is going to watch Sam again. Not only is it incredibly great for us, but let me tell you — Sam is madly in love with Tem. L-O-V-E.
This is long and rambly and full of information, some of it only tenuously connected to the rest. I am exhausted and elated and too tired to revise.
Here is a photo of Sam in a conference chair. If he could say more than “mama dada nana,” I imagine he would say, “I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve brought you here.”