You know what? The obvious is obvious for a reason.

When you're in @#*!#-ing hell, your forehead can feel a wee bit feverish. (By the way, that's the way my wife actually curses. She doesn't use dirty words; she'll literally say "asterisk, pound sign, exclamation point, the-letter-'A'-with-a-circle-around-it, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk.")

There's something that happens in that delivery room, when a woman becomes ten times more a woman, and a guy becomes six times less a man. You feel really dopey and useless and like a spectator. I did, anyway.

But at the same time that the experience is pulling you apart, it's also bonding you. You have this joint venture! You both made this baby. And that's the thing I still can't get over

We have such a long, familiar history with Peter Falk. The minute his mug is on that screen people smile.

The jewel in the baby product crown is the stroller. And if in America you are what you drive, then in Parentland, you are what you push.

She kind of reminds one of Helen. There's something very similar about Elizabeth Perkins.