Free Mommywood by Tori Spelling

knowing that I had a job to return to. But this baby girl was due to be born when we were right in the middle of filming our third season, and she expressed no interest in waiting an extra few months. Assuming I was in good-enough health, I‘d return to work the day after I got home from the hospital. In my fantasy world, I would put my career and my finances on ice and take a year off the minute the second baby was born, but the reality was that we were lucky to have work, and sadly, it couldn‘t be put on hold for our brand-new baby.
    In Hollywood, if an actor doesn‘t work for any period of time, the casting directors forget about her. It doesn‘t matter why you‘re not working—because you can‘t bear the thought of playing another FBI agent, because you want to take time off for a trip around the world, or because nobody will hire you post–
    jail term. (No, none of these reasons apply to me, although a trip around the world sounds nice. Minus the plane rides.) The point is, as an actor, if you‘re off the job for a few months, that‘s it.
    You‘re over. Or so it seems. All actors have had dry spells and remember how stressful it is never to know if or when we‘ll work again. The same way an athlete worries about injuries, or a fund manager worries that his investments will go sour, or a Beanie Baby employee might worry that the fad will end. It‘s part of the job. Actors live in a semiconstant state of fear and anxiety that we‘ll never work again.
    I wish I could afford to be a stay-at-home-mom. I fantasize about taking Liam to a Gymboree class or going to Mommy and Me groups with the new baby every single week instead of just when I can fit it in. I imagined us living in a new neighborhood where I could walk the two of them to the playground in a double stroller every morning, then push the baby in the swing while keeping one eye on Liam in the sandbox. My friend Jenny is a full-time mom. She and I would soon have two babies the same age. We were already having Friday night family dinners with the boys playing together at one family-friendly restaurant or another. Our dream was to raise families together, and now we were, but wouldn‘t it be nice to do it…more? Sometimes I look at Jenny‘s life and wish it were mine: if she‘s pulled in multiple directions, it‘s by her two, soon to be three, children.
    She takes her oldest, Delilah, to preschool, then she might take Shane (Liam‘s buddy) to gym class. After preschool Delilah goes to ballet, then Jenny‘s back home making dinner. When Norm gets home from work, they eat as a family. I know she‘s just as busy as I am, and I know she gets stressed out, but she‘s doing mom stuff. She has one job. She never has the work versus family conflict.
    I‘m constantly working. I work seven days a week. It‘s not just the TV show. I have fifty million different projects and obligations. My jewelry line. My children‘s clothing line.
    Meetings about a new website. Talk show appearances. Building Dean‘s and my production company. Developing new ideas for TV and movies. Even writing books! For better or worse, I have the kind of fame where my name is a brand. I know it sounds weird, but we treat ―Tori Spelling like a business. What do people think of me? Do they recognize my name? Do they trust Tori Spelling‘s taste? Even when we‘re not working on the series, my life is a never-ending meeting about building the Tori Spelling brand. Not every actor goes this route: I suppose I could do the reality show and leave it at that. But I can‘t. I‘m telling you, it‘s the curse of the Hollywood actor. It‘s impossible to turn down opportunities. So then I think, I’ll work my ass off now, earn bundles of money, and then I can be home with my family one day. But we all know how that will turn out. I‘ll work hard for fifteen years, finally earn enough money to be home, but by then my kids won‘t even want me around. My prime earning years are their