Sunday, October 25, 2015

Monday, October 19, 2015

Monday, October 12, 2015

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Adam, Costa Rica, 2006

My baby Baz

Motherhood suits me better than I would've ever expected. That doesn't mean it's always perfect. The other morning I kept emailing friends with the threat that I was going to throw myself off a building. But believe it or not, even in moments like that, I know how damn lucky I am. This little boy is incredible. I love you so much, baby.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Love you, Uncle Jon

Yes, I did need caffeine

Read from the bottom up ...

From: Adam Sandler
Sent: ‎Thursday‎, ‎October‎ ‎8‎, ‎2015 ‎11‎:‎47‎ ‎AM
To: Allison Landa

The only other option was iced chai. But I guessed you needed caffeine. Ly, FFF
On Thu, Oct 8, 2015 at 11:41 AM -0700, "Allison Landa" wrote:

Oh God. You know me too well. Ly fbbd

On Oct 8, 2015, at 11:40 AM, Adam Sandler wrote:
I bet an iced latte helps. Ly, FFF

On Thu, Oct 8, 2015 at 11:22 AM -0700, "Allison Landa"  wrote:

Uh ... Sort of ... Ly fbbd

On Oct 8, 2015, at 11:15 AM, Adam Sandler wrote:
Happy family now? Ly, FFF

On Thu, Oct 8, 2015 at 11:04 AM -0700, "Allison Landa" wrote:

Got him down, showered, going to Trieste soon. Ly fbbd 

Monday, October 5, 2015

I have the best friends

Part of a response to a Facebook post where I postulated that I may have a bit of postpartum depression. I love this lady:

You have wonderful friends giving you great advice. Now, reach out your right arm as far as it will go in front of you. Bend your elbow and reach your right hand as far back onto your back as it will go and pat it. Yep. Just like that! You have discovered a natural reality about having a baby: it's hard and that's okay and you can get PPD and that's normal! Take the advice of your friends (all of it seemed good to me, especially the rest and diet part, if you can do it).

But also take my advice. Drop the expectations that may be haunting you. 

You're doing a great job. Everyone can tell.
You have a wonderful, loving husband who clearly sees that great job you're doing. 
Baz is happy, healthy and already plays the piano.

You're golden. Even more so than usual.

You're loved. 

Sunday, October 4, 2015

From a short piece in progress

My father is waiting in the arrivals hall. One glance and I exhale with tentative relief: he appears to be in a good mood. This can change at any moment, but my father’s version of bipolar disorder typically involves less rapid cycling than that. He is undiagnosed and untreated, by far the most dangerous type. One doesn’t need to be a shrink to know that.

“Welcome to New York,” he says, and folds me into a hug. The way my father hugs is a bit of a tragedy. There’s an awkwardness there, even with me. Especially with me. He too has flown in today, traveling from Southern California, where I grew up. He grew up here but swapped coasts when I was four years old, rarely if ever looking back. My father is not a nostalgic man. His memory is too good for that.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Promises, promises

ME: That would be nothing compared to the (fill in the blank) that I would give you if you booked a trip to Europe.

ADAM: I'm still waiting for my (fill in the blank) from that time at Spaghetti Factory.