Toddlers of celebrities always look adorable and are well behaved in tabloid photos. You think these pint-size “sons and daughters of” are all on drugs. No toddler you know, including your own, is that adorable or well behaved all the time.
It was unfortunate, to say the least, that the one toddler I just had to body check so my daughter could get a seat beside her best friend at a birthday party was Nevis. Yes, Nevis. You know, Nelly Furtado’s daughter. It was unfortunate because I love Nelly Furtado. (I have all your songs on my iPod! I swear!)
Okay, so I’m slightly exaggerating. I didn’t exactly body check Nevis. It was more of a nudge. In my defense, I was just being proactive. I’m pretty sure Nelly Furtado would have body checked my daughter if she knew that her daughter just HAD to sit beside her best friend, or would end up having a complete meltdown at a very lovely birthday party. And I’d understand!
It was also unfortunate that it was Nelly Furtado’s toddler because I’m a bit of a celebrity whore and I kind of wished my daughter could have become fast friends with Nevis, so I could become fast friends with Nelly Furtado and then meet Timberland and go to the Grammy Awards.
If only I had offered Nevis a chair, instead of stealing one from her, Nelly would have thanked me and we’d be partying together right now.
I’m the kind of person who has a completely irrational belief that my daughter would really get on well with the toddlers of celebrities like, let’s say, Courtney Cox Arquette (just like I have the completely irrational belief that if I just got to meet Jennifer Aniston in person, we’d become best friends and start tanning together at her beach house in Malibu).
Nelly Furtado, I am happy to say, seemed like a very normal mother. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans (and trust me, some mothers show up to birthday parties dressed as if they were going to walk down a red carpet) Nelly Furtado helped her toddler eat cake. She cheered when her daughter hit the piñata.
Nelly and Nevis seemed like most moms and three-year-olds at a kid’s birthday party. Which was reassuring. Thanks to tabloid magazines, I was starting to think that the toddlers of celebrities are all on some sort of drug (a drug, mind you, that I should definitely be on.)
I’m not embarrassed to admit that I used to love People magazine and US Weekly. I’d read them religiously. If you’re reading this (and good for you!), you’re most likely the mother of a toddler and maybe a mother two or three times over and, well, kudos to you for finding the time to pick up a book with words that don’t include, “Goodnight moon. Goodnight room. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon!”
US Weekly, at the end of a long day, is the only thing my “mommy brain” can handle. Tabloid magazines are like picture books for adults. Most days, my brain can take in colors and photos and short captions like, “Kate Bosworth at an after party!” or “Brad Pitt gets off his motorcycle,” or “Gwyneth Paltrow buys toilet paper!” and that’s about it.
And I love to read! Or at least I remember the days when I used to love to read. I used to stay up all night sometimes reading a good novel, but those days are long gone, even if I’m really into the novel. I know that in 6 short hours I’ll have to get up, and sleep has become my number one priority. That’s why US Weekly, People, and Hello! magazine is the perfect thing to read before bed. It’s short and you don’t feel compelled to finish the story about Britney’s new hair extensions before you nod off.
Needless to say, I’ve become somewhat of an expert on celebrities and their toddlers, since I’ve become a mother. I’m especially obsessed with the pages that scream, “Celebrities and Their Babies!” Or “Celebrity Moms’ Day Out!” Or, “Daddy’s Little Girls!” alongside photos featuring Ben Affleck and Heath Ledger with their daughters sitting on their shoulders, walking through a park.
I also really used to like the pages titled, “Stars! - They’re just like US!” (There’s Kate Moss with a flat tire! There’s Desperate Housewives’ Marcia Cross opening a bag of chips with her teeth! There’s Hayden Panettiere getting a parking ticket! There’s Lindsay buying groceries!)
But stars aren’t just like us. And not only because they have fame, money, and wear sunglasses bigger than their faces. Stars, from the look of it, are most definitely not “just like us” especially when it comes to being the mothers of toddlers.
Tabloid magazines NEVER show photos of celebrity kids who don’t look like the best-behaved, most adorable kids in the world. You never see Suri Cruise, for example, looking anything but adorable and happy. You never see Gwen Stephani’s son, Kingston, having a bad hair day. And he’s only two! And even though Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have friggin’ four kids, they’re always at a toy store, taking carriage rides in New York City, or going to the circus. Not one of their four children is ever pictured grabbing on to either of their legs, with tears down their faces, while mom and dad look like they’re going to cry too.
I honestly believe tabloid magazines should have a two-page spread called, “Celebrity Parents: They are Just like - US!” and show Maddox, Pax, Shiloh, and Zahara having meltdowns, screaming on the floor, “I want more ice cream!” or, “No! I want another toy!” or, “I don’t like you anymore!”
I want tabloids to feature Kingston yanking a fistful of his mother’s hair while Gwen yelps out in pain, and says, “Do NOT pull my hair! I told you not to PULL MY HAIR!”
I want to see Ryan Phillipe and Reese Witherspoon’s kids, not smiling and being pushed on a swing in a playground, but grabbing a toy shovel from another kid’s hand while Ryan and Reese scream out, “SHARE! SHARE!” as Ava throws sand in another kid’s eyes.
That’s reality! That would be “just like US!” And I’d way rather see that than read how Jennifer Garner “balances it so well, you never know how she does it.”
Why don’t we ever see Suri Cruise, for god’s sake, with food on her face? Why don’t they show a photo of Angelina Jolie in a washroom changing Shilo’s diaper after a meal of peas? Why don’t we see Heidi Klum and her brood looking anything less than perfect. Why can’t we see Henry smacking his sister in a sibling rivalry moment?
That, dear tabloid editors, would make me feel that “Stars are Just Like US!” That would make me not want to stop buying your magazines because I think it’s false advertising. Yes, it’s false advertising.
When I only see happy, spotless, well-behaved celebrity kids walking around with their relaxed, well-dressed, smiling parents, I’m only left thinking they’re all on drugs. They must be. Because no toddlers are ever that well behaved. And no mother always looks that laid-back.
So, celebrity mothers, can you let the rest of us know about these magic pills?
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