Tony Curtis was totally hawt.
That is all.
What’s your favorite Tony Curtis movie? Mine is Some Like it Hot. I need to watch it again.
Now that the experts tell me that I am no longer supposed to dose my sniffly, sneezy, miserable infant with the all-purpose wonder drug that is liquid Benadryl, what are my options? That’s what I’m pondering in my latest post over at Babble.
Sometimes – actually lot in the past week or two – I have this feeling that this has all been a prolonged, not so funny joke (after all, Henry really loved to pull pranks). A few times – when I am alone at home, or everyone else is already asleep and I’m doing laundry or something – I have actually found myself saying out loud, “Okay sweetie, you can come out now.”
And then, for just a moment, I expect him to peek out from behind the drapes or pop up from the back side of a chair – with that sweet, mischevious grin of his lighting up the room.
Always, always, he could make my day with one of those smiles.
(If you can, go offer some support to another mama who is struggling to parent a beloved firstborn child who is struggling himself)
We have had a big development at our house this month; J is now DRIVING!
She got her learner’s permit recently, after she turned 15 in August. She studied hard and passed her test with flying colors.
This is a parenting first for me – having a teenage driver – because Henry really wasn’t that interested in driving, and frankly, we didn’t really want him driving – for obvious reasons. He did get his learner’s permit when he turned 15, but he basically never drove as a teenager. Ever.
So J is my first teen driver. I played no role in teaching her to drive; her dad handled all of that, and it appears he did a fantastic job. She’s very good, very careful and very confident (I worry that she’s overconfident). She loves to drive, as one would expect, and she wants to do it at every opportunity. Whenever we get in the car, she’s asking to drive. And I find myself wanting to say no more than I want to say yes.
My reason for wanting to turn her down on the driving is all about me and has very little to do with her; even though she is clearly pretty good behind the wheel, riding in the passenger seat with her driving makes me unbelievably, irrationally nervous. As she pilots the Honda minivan home from school or to the grocery store with great elan, I sit beside her, chewing my nails and biting my tongue. I literally have to consciously prevent myself from commenting on every move she makes. Often, I fail miserably, and I suddenly blurt something out about turn signals or following too closely, and I can see that I’ve just made her nervous rather than helping her in any way. But it’s like I am possessed by Satan when J drives; I can’t keep my mouth shut. Something compels me to spew unsolicited and often unhelpful advice.
I will keep working on this. Maybe by the time G turns 15, I will have myself under control.
Mark your calendars: on October 27th at 7pm EST, WBIR in Knoxville (the NBC/Gannett affiliate) will be airing a 30 minute special on the epidemic of drug addiction in our community and across the country.
The commercial-free special will tell the story of Henry’s life and death, and his battle with drug addiction, as well as our family’s struggle. The hope is that by putting a real face and name and story to even one of the thousands of overdose deaths that will occur in this country this year, the show will help viewers better understand the problem, and perhaps inspire them to get help for themselves or their children if they need it. Resources for getting that help will be shared as part of the show.
East Tennessee is blessed to have a television station like WBIR. The people there truly care about this community and those of us who live and raise our children here. That whole “Straight From the Heart Thing” that WBIR talks about is the real deal.
Why are so many baby outfits so complicated to get on and off? What’s with all the crazy snapping-up-the-legs schemes? Where do they find those scratchy appliques designed to irritate babies’ chests and bellies? These are the kinds of questions I am asking over at Babble in my latest post at Baby’s First Year
I’m finally opening all of the cards and letters that people were sweet enough to send our family in the weeks following Henry’s death and G’s birth.