INTERVIEW: Leigh-Allyn Baker
If you haven’t heard of Disney Channel’s upcoming sitcom Good Luck Charlie, you either live in a tiny hole somewhere in Antarctica, or you don’t have elementary-aged kids at home. Probably the latter. The sitcom, which premiere’s on Disney Channel on April 4 (8:30 p.m. ET/PT) and on the Family Channel on April 5, is about how a family of tweens and teens face the challenges of helping to care for their newborn sister, Charlie, when mom and dad return to work.
I recently had the opportunity to interview Leigh-Allyn Baker, who plays mom Amy Duncan on the new series.
How did you become an actress?
Well, I always wanted to do that. I was one of those people that kind of always knew what they wanted to do. I started doing plays when I was really little at the community theatre in Kentucky and I continued doing them and I decided I wanted to go to a university that had an emphasis and get my BFA in theatre so I went to USC and stayed out here and just kind of wound up in television my Emphasis was Shakespeare, I went to Oxford University.
So was there any part of you, when you first got involved in television, that felt like you were betraying your theatre side?
I didn’t feel like I was betraying my theatre side... I felt like I was a sell-out. Like, "Yeah, I am a major hack—wow." And then I got my first check and I was like “Whoa! [TV] makes a lot more than theatre does.” I only hack for money.
I have two little girls who, when I told them I would be interviewing you, about fell over. They knew you from your stint on Hannah Montana.
Oh yeah! I was pregnant with Griffin.
And now how old is Griffin?
Griffin is 14 months old.
How are you doing juggling real-life parenting and play-life parenting?
You know it was really hard at first. It all kind of came down so fast that I didn’t really know what hit me and I just kind of plugged through. But there were days when I would sit in my dressing room and cry. I took him to work with me quite a bit but it just wasn’t practical to have him there on shoot days. And we do have a set—we call her our set baby—we have Mia who plays Charlie, and so she and I are really close because if I couldn’t be loving on him, I’d be loving on her.
Did you have any guilt with that?
Yeah, I had a lot of guilt! I had a lot of guilt and I had a lot of like… Mia is the most beautiful baby you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Now granted, mine is too—he is beautiful, especially for a little boy. But when the cast goes on and on and ON about how great Mia is, I start to act like a little kid who gets her feelings hurt.
Of course!
You know, “My kid is really cute too! My kid is lovable, too! My kid makes an elephant noise! Or what a giraffe said—the giraffe says ‘chrt-chrt-chrt-‘ That’s what my kid does!!” (laughter) You know. I love Mia and I know her mom and I adore her as well. It’s all one big happy family, believe it or not.
Now that you’ve joined the pantheon of television moms, what does that feel like?
You know what? It’s kind of about time. I was a little young, I felt, to be playing this part. But Disney has been courting me for awhile to play a mom and I was always way too young at that point to be playing a mom. And I kind of feel like hey, you know what? When I’m done with this stint, I’ll actually be the age everyone thinks I am to be able to play the part. (laughs)
Throughout the course of this show do they have any scenes showing you in labor?
Yes.
Okay… did you do it realistically? Because you know how we real moms hate those scenes-- because we know what the pain of labor looks like.
And believe me, six months prior to that I did 33 ½ hours of drug-free labor with Pitocin. I know what labor’s all about.
So you put some realism in there…
I was just going for it and they were really buying it and then the note comes down, “Okay, I want you to contract on this line but by the time you say this line I want it to be over.” I looked at the producer and I said “A ten-second-really-hard contraction doesn’t come and go.” I was like, “Get out of my world! This is my part!” (laughing) It was the first time I felt like saying to them all, “Let me do my job! You don’t know what you’re talking about here!”
And they had a real little newborn for me to cuddle…
Oh my gosh, it wasn’t one of those TV newborns that are actually like 8-months-old?
He was 2-weeks-old and he started getting a little hysterical and crying because whoever handed him to me had done a really bad job swaddling him. (hurriedly) And I just said, “STOP! I need FIVE SECONDS!” I laid him down, I swaddled him up—(mimics sounds of swaddling), I put him on my shoulder, shhh, and bounced him up and down a little bit… sound asleep. And then I had to hold him strategically for the rest of the scene because I had a major let down.
(laughter—she’s referring to breast milk, as she was a nursing mom at the time)
Of course you would! Now that’s a really good subject there—does that happen with Mia, where she cries and you’re like [suddenly ready to nurse]?
Yeah, because I breast fed Griffin for a year and it was more of like, “Okay guys I need a break.” Yeah, only one more scene. “Okay guys, it’s been an hour, I really need a break.” Okay, just one more “GUYS! Uhm, I was a C cup at the beginning of this scene and now I’m like a double G. You have GOT to let me go pump.”
Everybody knew about it, you couldn’t hide it. Everybody’s like, “Leigh needs to go pump! Let her go!” And the all kids would stand up for me, “We’ll do my scene, Leigh needs to go feed Griffin.” Everybody pitched in to help.
How do you get along with the rest of your coworkers? I mean, you’re working with a lot of kids. And they’re all lead actors in this, right?
You know, I thought it would be boring or I thought I would be dealing with a bunch of little hacks who don’t have any idea how good they’ve got it, but I couldn’t be working with a sweeter group of kids. I love them. I hope mine turns out to be as good as they are. I love Eric Kramer who plays my husband (Bob Duncan). We are all very tight, close, close friends, we are like a family.
It sounds like you feel supported in terms of your own motherhood… If your son is sick—you probably have a back up plan but, do you ever have to call in sick?
We had to learn that the hard way. There was a time when Griffin and I both got very sick. It was one of those things where I maybe would have gone into work, but there was no going into work. I said, “I’ve got to take my child to the doctor and I’m not coming in.” It’s interesting. It goes from, “I’ll do whatever you want” in this business to, “Wild horses couldn’t get me in there. I’ll be at the pediatrician’s office.”
So coffee: Best friend, or BEST FRIEND EVER? I’m assuming you have a caffeine addiction.
I’m drinking it right now. I didn’t drink it at all when I was pregnant. I didn’t drink it at all when I was nursing. And if you try shooting a series that works as hard as ours does, with no caffeine, while making milk… ohmygod I had no energy.
You were like a slug.
I was like a slug. You just go on adrenaline. And then I gotta be honest with you: Once I stopped breast feeding, I dropped 15 pounds, my baby weight came off, I was back on the sauce. (laughter) And I got my energy back. It really took it out of me.
So in terms of recommending this show to moms—absolutely?
Oh my gosh yes! Save yourself from the other shows and watch this one. (laughter) I’ve seen everything that’s out there on the kids networks. Yeah, you’ll like it. And moms come to this show and they’re like, “We think you’re great.” And I said, “Well, I am your demographic.”
It’s really good. I think there’s something in it for everybody. I think there’s something in it for the dads. I know there is. Eric Allan Kramer is a fantastic comedian; great actor… and you know what? You’ll like the relationship between the husband and wife. It’s very realistic. And it’s not just grouchy, it’s a couple who’s really in love with each other who also gets on each others' nerves. It’s very realistic.
The gritty underbelly of motherhood
At the ripe old age of 40, I have come to understand that one must find the good in situations whenever one can.
Case in point: A mom moment.
First the grumbling, then the whining. And then…her sleepy eyes widened as her cheeks puffed out a-la-Louis Armstrong. I reacted instinctively, cupping my hands bowl-like at the base of her chin. Less than a second later my hands were filled with the all-too recent contents of my 6-year-old daughter’s stomach.
Instantly and through her wailing, big stepbrother rushed over and ushered her to the bathroom. Everyone else around me began to move about in a completely indecisive flurry, hopping back and forth with the desire to help but with the uncertainty of where to begin.
All the while I stood frozen, cradling the regurgitated remains of my 6-year-old’s dinner as I barked the same words over and over: Towel. I need a towel.
Staring at the gooey mess, I was struck by two thoughts. First, she actually had eaten dinner. Good. Having been absent from the table during the meal, I wasn’t sure I trusted little Miss Picky’s assertions that she did, in fact, eat what she said she had. Not that it did a lot of good at this point.
My second thought: Why do I do this? Why the cupping, the attempted catching of a massive quantity of liquid, of all things? For a start, IT WAS GROSS. Yet like most things mom-ish, gross is never really a factor when leaping into action to help my kids. I mean, if my child were drowning in raw sewage, I would leap in up to my neck without a second thought. And this vomit catching? This wasn’t a first for me. I cannot begin to count the number of times I have found myself in similar situations—at home, in public, in my car—suddenly cupping handfuls of the stuff.
The real issue is the futility of it all. I’m not saving a mess from occurring. Heck, I’m barely even decreasing the mess I’m faced with. My hands can’t contain the matter, and I can’t move anywhere with it, and now I can’t even cross the carpet to help my sick one in the bathroom for fear of leaving a trail—which would now be of MY making.
My son runs forth, attempting to hand me two hand towels and I remain frozen: They’re decorative towels. I can’t use the nice decorative towels for this!
So now my gross, already futile situation has expanded into a gross, futile, and truly ridiculous situation. “They’re just the Halloween towels,” I tell myself, “and you got them on clearance, for the love of gawd. Soak them in bleach later. Whatever. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’RE HOLDING.”
I’m not a bright girl, but I know what gross is. After a short pause, I acquiesce and use the decorator towels… mere seconds before I turn to see my husband approaching with two old dish rags.
Later, as I disinfected my entire body in a scalding shower, two other things crossed my mind: First, how incredibly attractive I must have looked, cupping said goo. These are the images that a woman really wants to sear into the retinas of her man for all time.
But second, and maybe most important of all, the bright side to this gross and ridiculous and pointless situation: If vomit catching was an Olympic sport, I would be a gold-medal winner.
That’s pretty bright, right? …Maybe I’m trying too hard.
Always epic
Jon Stewart's impression of conservative commentator Glen Beck is one of the best pieces of theatre I've ever witnessed on television.
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The times, they aren’t a changin’
I sit at the dinner table silently watching my brood chatter, and I reflect on my own teen years.
My mind dances over one particular period in middle school, which began with a single day marked by streak of confidence. That day my hair looked good, my makeup went on right and I loved the outfit I was wearing. I felt, perhaps for the first time in my middle school years, cool.

When I arrived at school, a friend commented on how great my outfit looked. And so, with the assurance that only such compliments can ply, I proceeded to wear that same outfit everyday for the next 3 days, and then as often as possible in the ensuing two weeks.
My mom tried to get me to change my clothes, but I was convinced I was onto something important here. I mean, looked good! And I felt good. My clothes, however, were starting to get natty…
And so went middle school.
It didn’t matter what my mom said; she just didn’t get it. And my father? Pshh. Why would I even bother to listen to him? Nobody understood me or my life or the horrific travails that I faced as a teen; nobody on Earth could possibly understand the pain and sorrow of being me. At least when I was sad, anyway.
Other times, no one could possibly be as “right” about everything, as I was. Because I WAS right. All the time. About… well, everything. Duh.
My opinions were grounded in ABSOLUTE FACT and I always remained completely unswayed by other people’s completely valid arguments, until such a time I thought it prudent to reveal that they must have been completely confused because I actually thought exactly like they did the whole time.
My vast knowledge of life and its trappings was only outsized by my enormous sense of empathy and my unfailing desire to change the world but was vastly, enormously, unfailingly curtailed by my wee-little attention span. Oh, that is so awful! Oh, that is so terribly sad! Okay I get it, I get it, what’s on MTV?
Quite frankly, I was expert at spotting injustice, both elsewhere and against me. There are people starving in Africa? That is so wrong! I can’t go to the mall? That is so wrong!
My mother—who understood me best of all—would stare at me blankly, or roll her eyes and shake her head at my self-absorption. My father would smirk. "Theresa Lynn," he would say, smiling at me sweetly from across the dinner table, "I hope that one day you have a daughter. Exactly. Like. You." And I would smile back at what I saw as his loving nature, not realizing that he meant it as a curse.
I sit now, years and years later, at a different dinner table, with memories of my own asshattery fluttering past my mind’s eye, and watch my own children plod their way through those same awkward years: one wearing the same outfit day-after-day, refusing my entreaties to change into clean clothes; another swimming in her own outsized sense of empathy and stifling self-absorption; while a third declares passionately and irreverently that she is absolutely and unequivocally 100% correct.
I smile inwardly and sigh, seeing my father’s curse play out before me, and I send up a little thank you to him: first, for the ability to experience this, and to see the humor in all this angst.
And second, for not killing me back then.
INTERVIEW | Star Crossed Series: I’m a fan
As an avid reader, I was a little excited to have the opportunity to interview author Bonnie Hearn-Hill about the latest book in her Star Crossed series: Aries Rising, on her Blog tour. Check out the interview, and be sure to enter to win the iPod touch!
How long have you been writing novels? How did you get your start? I wrote my first one--a Nancy Drew episode--when I was in elementary school. It's all I ever wanted to do, but I found no mentors and little encouragement back then. Twenty-three years passed from the writing of my first "adult" novel and my back-to-back three-book deals for my novels in 2002. I finally got lucky with the right book, the right time and the right agent. Like almost every successful novelist I know, my real secret, if you can call it that, is that I was too stubborn to give up.
How did you decide to tie astrology in with your characters? Is astrology an important part of your life? Humorous astrology writer Hazel Dixon-Cooper is in my critique group. You can't be around Hazel long without asking if Mercury is in retrograde or if Pluto has moved into Capricorn. Seriously, she's fascinating, fun and habit-forming. Everything I know about astrology I learned from her. Since she's my best friend, astrology does have some impact on my life, although I use it primarily to get the down-and-dirty on people I'm just meeting. Thanks to Hazel, I can sometimes even guess someone's sign.
Is there a message you try to convey to your young, Star Crossed readers? A couple of messages, and I hope they come organically out of the story and don't appear tacked on. One is that no one -- not your guy, not your parents, not astrology--can do it for you. The power is within. Two, is that true friends are more important than guys, what's currently cool or anything else. One of the reasons my editor bought the series is that the three best friends want something other than guys (although they want them too), and that they are loyal to and supportive of each other.
I'm a Sagittarius. What does that say about me as a writer? It's a great sign for a writer. You're the opposite of my sign, Gemini. Like Gemini, Sadge likes to talk (and talk and talk). It's natural to transfer that to paper. Most Sadges also love to travel. If you're one of them, be sure to include those colorful places you visit in your writing.
If you could invite 3 famous moms to dinner, who would they be? And what would you serve? You, Hazel Dixon-Cooper, a Pisces, and Laura, my Taurus agent. So, we'd have a Fire sign (you), a Water sign (Hazel), an Earth sign (Laura), and an Air sign (me). Perfect balance. I couldn't miss. I love to cook, so I would probably feel you out as to what you like. And I would be sure to serve Star Crossed Brownies for dessert. They're fabulous and rich, and there would be plenty of leftovers to take home to the kids.
Thanks so much for letting me stop by on my tour. Be sure to register for the free iPod Touch.
And thank you, Bonnie. Especially including me in your "famous mom" dinner; my Sagittarian ego LOVES it!
~~~~~Enter for the iPod Touch~~~~~~~
The Aries Rising Blog Tour & Book Giveaway continues through March 31. Destinations will be posted daily, and a free copy of Aries Rising will be given away at each one. At the conclusion of the tour, a drawing will be held for an iPod Touch. No purchase is necessary.
You can enter as often as you wish, and you can qualify in three ways.
1. Be an Aries. Just send your birth date (month and day) to starcrossed.contest@gmail.com.
2. Write a review and post it anywhere. Send the link to the same address. (More work, I know, and I appreciate all of you who have taken the time to spread the word about my astro series).
3. Post a fan badge on your Facebook page and send the link to above address.
On each entry, include your name, address, e-mail, and phone number where you can be reached March 31.
Perpetually anxious/simultaneously exhausted mom of a blended family of 7 kids & 2 pets. Writer about same. Wife to one amazingly patient husband. Drinker of wine. 




