I'm too sexy for my diaper... and I shake my little tush on the catwalk

Glorious sunshine.  It's been a long and difficult separation, yet it seems we'll soon be reunited for another torrid few months!  Honestly, I've been lusting after the sun like something out of 9 1/2 Weeks.  I didn't know the pull of Vitamin D could ever be synonymous with a young, strapping Mickey Rourke of yore, but there you go...  I miss the long, long walks and the Toronto parks, not to mention the guilt-free gelato that invariably ensues.  And hopefully -- if you'll excuse the dreadful pun -- the chance to put to bed winter and its ailments.  A little good health is long overdue in this household.  Hard to believe we haven't even lived here for a full year yet.  For me, even after more than a decade away, Canada has never stopped being home. And Mr Green feels like he's been here forever, which could be a blessing or a curse depending which way you look at it. 

Around this time last year the idea of baby modelling secretly got lodged in our brains like a tic.  Secretly, because the idea makes me cringe in a Jon Benet Ramsey sort of way.  I mean, what kind of holier-than-thou vanity must a parent possess to think their baby is cuter than the rest?  Some people say all babies are cute, but between you and me I've seen the pitiful proof that this just isn't the case.  Some babies are downright homely, in a cute sort of way of course because they are teeny tiny.  But that's like comparing the sweet and fuzzy Gizmo to its scaly, snot-green Gremlin cousins.  The idea only came into our brains because while out with LGO we were (and still are) constantly stopped by adoring masses.  Not just cooing grannies, either.  A gaggle of teenage boys once stopped doing whatever it is that teenage boys do these days, to ogle LGO. 

I have a friend whose two children both model and earn a tidy sum for it.  She only fell into the business by happy accident.  But if her and her husband's genetic combined output produces such beauty, I figure why not share it?  What other purpose does beauty serve but to be admired by the non-beautiful majority?  Is it exploitive, you ask?  I don't think so.  Not at this tender age, at least.  Baby modelling takes more than a pretty baby face, though; it requires a certain demeanor, in guardian and child.  Last year around this time, LGO was routinely bothered by cutting teeth and (mal)lingering colic.  As you will know from historical posts, he wasn't exactly what you would call happy go lucky.  Now, like any toddler he can be impatient in the store, yet as soon as a stranger stops to admire him (which they do at practically every aisle), boy does he turns on the charm.  And he just loves having his photo taken.  Presumably the shoots aren't strenuous.  And I hear the dollars add up to a shiny education fund.  So, like I said, Mr Green and I are still toying with the idea.  It's something to do, and my friend enjoys getting out and meeting other moms and babes in the 'business'.

Problem is, there is an initial outlay just to register with a legit agency. With no guarantee that your baby will be chosen for a gig.  Does LGO have what it takes to model?  Of course we think he's cute.  But among the legions of cutie pies, is he cute enough?  Is he photogenic, really?  Do our own deep bias and the attention of strangers warrant the initial outlay?  Or are we setting ourselves up, like so many other delusional parents, for an embarrassing reality check?  And if he is selected for a photo shoot, or a commercial, will we have the gall to tell anyone other than our immediate families?  Embarrassment lies on either side of what should be, but isn't, harmless fun.  Because how can it be harmless when there's a whole shit load of dollars and parental pride at stake? I wonder if my friend ever feels any subtle (or not-so-subtle) jealousy from parents whose children will never have the god-given goods to model.  And if she does, is the feeling easy enough to shrug off on her way to bank her son or daughter's latest four-figure salary? Or when she sees their smiling cherubic face blown up on an upscale department store billboard for the first time?