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me initially because I did Playboy (they are very conservative and old-school). He is a huge mama’s boy, so it was hard on me at first because I had to tell Hank I didn’t want his mom in my room folding our laundry all the time like she liked to do for him. I loved the fact that his mom offered to help out like that, and I secretly loved having a parent around in that role. But I also needed to set boundaries because I couldn’t just have Mrs. Baskett roaming around my bedroom whenever she wanted. If I want sex toys lying around in my room that’s my right! I don’t need my mother-in-law coming in and seeing my vibrator sitting on the bed. But Hank was used to having his mom come in his room to iron and hang his clothes. He cried when I told him she couldn’t do that anymore, and when we told her she cried too. But she respected that I was the woman in his life now and that I needed her to have boundaries. She never held that against me. She stepped aside and to this day loves me, Hank, and the baby as much as she possibly can.

As I write this book, Hank’s dad is occasionally staying with us at the house because he has cancer. He comes in every few weeks for extended stays to get chemo treatment. That’s our family dynamic; we know it’s not all about us. If my mom ever needed that attention from us, she could come stay with us.

Would I love to have my mother-daughter relationship back? Yes. Would I want little Hank to have his other grandma in his life more? Yes. I would love for her to be happy with how he’s growing and to be proud of me. After where I came from—from being addicted to drugs and partying and Playboy to now having my own home and career and having a son and doing the best job I could have ever imagined doing in that department—I would want my mom to be proud of me. Just to reach out and say, “I’m so proud.” That’s all I need. I have fans who come up to me and say how proud they are. Neighbors come up to me and say it. I say it to Hank all the time. The world tells me, “Well done, Kendra.” The whole world except my mom.

I’ve set up an e-mail account so my mom and grandma can send e-mails to baby Hank, since no one writes letters anymore. It’s an e-mail account that Hank Jr. can have forever and where he will always be able to read e-mails from family members, even after they are gone. So far, only my grandma has sent them.

My mom reached out to Hank when she heard about his dad having cancer. I guess someone told her. Maybe there’s hope after all.

Chapter 17

Parentnoia

Being famous doesn’t exempt you from the neurosis of being a first-time mom. Every new mommy is desperate to make sure that she’s doing everything right and beats herself up whenever she gets it wrong. And, trust me, there have been plenty of times when I have gotten it wrong.

I am not a perfect mom and I don’t play one on TV. But I do a damn good job; not bad for someone who spent the first two-thirds of her life snorting, smoking, and drinking whatever she could get her hands on. I’m not one of these perfect stay-at-home moms cutting the crust off her kids’ peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I certainly don’t throw out a slice of bread because there’s a tiny piece of mold on it. Just cut off that part and toast the rest!

I try to be the best mom I can be, focusing on my kid and trying to do it all fast, efficiently, and right. And that’s not to say I’m not going to have a little fun with it along the way. But I’ve learned that once you have a kid, every day is a battle, and no matter how prepared you are, you still never have everything that you need.

I also try to be the most prepared person ever. I always overpack. If we’re going out for a few hours, I pack enough diapers for a week. For one day at the park I pack like I’m going out of the country. What if I get stranded? Hank Jr.’s a baby; he can’t fend for himself, so I need to do that for him. For me it’s all about what-ifs and “just in case.”

But as any mom knows, you can make sure you’ve got diapers, bottles, cream, food, milk, formula, pacifiers, toys, bibs, medicine,