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Posts Tagged ‘Hugh Laurie’

Carpe diem, House

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , on May 21, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Again a show that I love has left the airways.  Again I was very happy with the final episode.  I must say I loved that House worked in a reference to Dead Poet’s Society…hee hee hee.  And I know it doesn’t happen often anymore, but I’m glad they left it open. Technically they could do a reunion show, albeit without Wilson, but…

Little bit Thelma and Louise at the end, not that I think they are going to drive off a cliff, but just taking off is freeing.  I was speaking with a coworker about it earlier today and we wondered if House and Wilson would rent a convertible, drive off,  and pick up Brad Pitt, which I think Brad would have done it.  So carpe diem to us all.

I didn’t get to watch the behind the scenes special before the final episode…work.  But I am sure I will watch it over the weekend.  Currently, Kenneth Branagh is playing in the background in Love’s Labour’s Lost.  (Geeky trivia question for you-what does Kenneth Branagh have in common with both Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard?)  Papers must be graded, tests must be scored, laundry must be folded, and trash must be put to the curb.

But it will be done with a satisfied brain, pleased with the end of House.

Oldest son claims he can no longer sleep with his brother in the same bed.  They’ve shared a double-size bed for six years and now he’s decided he can’t share a bed.  At the moment, there really is no other option for him, so his solution is to sleep on the chaise in the living room.  Yeah, sleep.  Wink wink, nudge nudge.

Youngest son was devastated by this event.  He was crying as he tried to go to sleep and fessed up to the fact that he is scared of the dark.  I didn’t tell oldest son this information as I didn’t want him to feel even more power and control over his baby brother.  I checked on youngest son several times as he was falling asleep.  He is sleeping soundly in the bed, cuddling Blue Bear and his Elmo’s blanket.  Oldest son is tossing and turning as he pretends to sleep on the chaise.

Oldest son did not like when I ignored his questions during House.  He kept asking why I was crying and I wouldn’t answer. Then he would ask why I was laughing and I wouldn’t answer.  He kept pretending I was waking him up with my reactions to the episode.  He’s really got to work on his delivery.  It’s too over the top and obvious.  I was trying to make a point however that he was well beyond his 8:30 bedtime.  In theory, they should have been asleep before the episode even started and then it wouldn’t have mattered.  But he likes to be a ham.

I like that the series gave us little pictures, snapshots, of where the other characters went after House’s grand exit.  Fans deserve that type of ending.  Monk did the same.  Left everybody basically doing the same-old-same-old just without our voyeuristic eyes peering into their lives.

But the best lives to peer into are our own.  I know why my sons were still up-they were waiting to see me, or to get a few more minutes playing a video game.  They do like to grab a few minutes with me when I get home and, with my current late night schedule, I don’t mind if they are up for a wee bit when I get home.  I miss the little buggers.

Well, remember the lessons we’ve learned from House.  There are books on the philosophy of House, but I sum it up like this.  Mystery is a good thing, friends do matter, and everybody lies.  Of course, the most important lesson:

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Chopped Liver

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , , on July 16, 2011| Leave a Comment »

I don’t know how it happened.  I do know when it happened.  This is the summer of my discontent.  My sons have taken the first step to independence and I have become chopped liver.  Their world was parent-centric.  Now it’s play-outside-all-day-and-what-do-you-mean-I-have-to-come-in-centric.

Yes, I’m happy for them.  Yes, it’s means they’re growing up just like we want them to, with independence and confidence.  Yes, it means so many wonderful things.

But, first I’m going to have myself a bit of a pity party.

Where are my babies?

Okay, pity party’s over.  What an exciting time.  Yeah, yeah, for them, but I mean for me and my hubby.  We could pick up our hobbies again.  Heck, I’ve already been cast in a show.  I’m going to rehearsal tomorrow and the boys have to come with me, instead of me going with them.  My husband and I have had actual conversations in the recent weeks.  Conversation that were uninterrupted by “Mom, he’s touching me.”  I’ve been completing whole thoughts all at once.  I’ve been working on house projects, including catching up on Hugh Laurie and House.  I’ve done, dare I write it, reading for FUN and the book was a grown-up book with no pictures.  I’m current in the grading for my summer class.

While it is hard to think that the early childhood years have almost passed, it is invigorating to know that the early work took hold.  Our sons are getting it.  No, not perfectly-we really need to work on that talking back to your mother thing-but they are problem solving, compromising, sharing, thinking of others, and having fun with their friends.  They have entered that time of their life when they have secrets that mean the world that they forget the following week.  They make secret clubs and handshakes.  They can do anything, be anything.  It’s the time of youth when everyday objects hold magical powers, the days are never long enough, and the plans they make will really happen.   This summer marks the beginning of one of the best times of their lives and, oh my sweet sons, I am so happy for you.

It’s like the summer in It when the six of them first battle It.  Okay, I don’t hope that my sons end up in the bowels of the sewers battling a monster so hideous one can only call it It, but this is like that summer.  The summer of innocence when a child can still believe in monsters and the tooth fairy.  This won’t be their only summer like this, they’ll have four or five more, but this is the first one for them.  One of the boys they play with (an older boy, he’s 11) is in his last summer of innocence.  You can see it changing for him.  Some days he can completely suspend disbelief, other days he struggles and usually goes home.  The summers of suspension of disbelief.  They’re awesome.

My job now is to let them have their grand adventures.  To let them believe.  To quickly bandage their scrapes so they can back out there.  To hug them when their feelings are hurt and they’re never going to talk to so-and-so again (at least till they’re back outside talking to so-and-so again).  I’ve got to say, it hurts just a wee bit to let them have the space and time away from the “safety” of home.  But only until one of them runs in to get a toy, and pauses to come to me, wrap his arms around me, and say, “I love you, Mom.”  Then the hurt is not so bad.

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