When Leo was 1, David recommended we hire Simone, an 18-year-old aspiring actress whom he mentored. As the primary breadwinner, I continued to take on new acting roles - mostly theatre gigs, but also occasional small parts on popular shows including True Blood, New Girl and Masters of Sex. David offered to stay at home with the baby he loved being involved, and he was an amazing father. I was 40, and knew that this was probably my only shot at becoming a mother. Instead, all I got was an “Aww.”īut after six years of dating, I pushed David to have a baby. I was hoping for a moment straight out of a romantic comedy, where he would call me the love of his life, too. “You know, it just hit me: If we end up staying together, you will go down in history as the great love of my life,” I told him one night after four years of dating. It was of our babysitter, Simone, sans clothes - and it was dated 2011, a year before David and I had even gotten married. But the oldest video on David’s computer wasn’t one of Leo splashing in the bathtub. The computer had once belonged to me, and I wanted to make sure I hadn’t left any important videos - such as Leo’s birth - behind. So when David accidentally left his laptop at my place, I didn’t think anything of turning it on. Though he had moved out of our Los Angeles apartment, David would visit frequently as we tried to keep things as normal as possible for our 4-year-old son, Leo. Three months after my husband, David, and I decided to end our marriage in 2013, I was impressed with how successfully our co-parenting strategy was working. The 47-year-old Weedman - author of Miss Fortune: Fresh Perspectives on Having It All From Someone Who Is Not Okay (Plume, out now) - told New York Post’s Lindsay Putnam how her marriage fell apart. The actress had been with her husband, David*, for 11 years when she found evidence of his affair with their teenage babysitter. Amazing moments like the protagonist stepping in a huge pile of dog excrement, and her later tirade about same, make for unique viewing.Gwen Stefani and Jennifer Garner are just the latest crop of famous women whose husbands were allegedly involved with their nannies - and it’s a cliche Lauren Weedman knows all too well. What keeps it watchable is not so much interest in the characters as the feeling of having absolutely no idea where, if indeed anywhere, the film is going. It all plays out rather flatly, as our heroine gets in some trouble and runs away from home, and begins cohabitating with an absurdly benevolent prostitute. There's a bit of nudity to keep the audience from throwing things at the screen, but the story is actually an earnest drama with very little sex. There is, technically, a "jailbait babysitter" in the film, but anyone expecting some underage thrills should look elsewhere. Surely the film's title, in the grand exploitation tradition, was tacked on to try to sell a product on the basis of something it doesn't really deliver. It is a strange film, full of odd, seemingly miscalculated moments. I remembered little of it from my previous viewing. A few weeks ago I caught a theatrical screening where I was forced to give it my full attention. I suspect I began fast-forwarding at about the ten-minute mark. I seem to recall renting this film from Music+ about 17 years ago.
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