
Kathie Lee Gifford recently celebrated her grandson’s birthday.
Gifford’s grandson once dressed up as his late grandfather.
Gifford’s son and his partner are in a happy relationship.
Kathie Lee Gifford is best known as a co-host on “Today” on NBC. She has been a staple on the network for many years, and fans have become acquainted with her family as she often talks and posts about them.
Most recently, Gifford shared the news that her grandson had celebrated his birthday. Fans and friends alike took to the comments section of her post to wish the young man a happy birthday and express how much they loved the family.
Gifford shared a photo of her grandson strapped into his car seat, beaming at the camera, and wished him a happy birthday before saying::
“So grateful to God for the gift of Frankie.”
Gifford’s grandson is named after her late husband, Frank Gifford, who passed away in 2015. Many fans mentioned they could see Frankie’s grandfather in the child, while others thought he looked more like his father, Cody.
Other fans wished little Frankie a happy birthday, while others talked about how cute the tot was. Some people thought Frankie looked like his mom, but most saw a strong resemblance to his father and grandfather.
One fan said that he was clearly doing his namesake justice and they knew Frank would have been proud. Another called him his “father’s twin” while others called him “adorable.” An adoring commenter said Frankie was “like his Grandpa and daddy.”
Frankie Dressed Up As “Big Frank”
In keeping with the sentiment that little Frankie looks so much like his late grandfather, Gifford’s daughter-in-law, Erika, shared a sweet comparison photo of the pair in January this year. The first photo showed Frank Gifford as a young man, and the following picture showed Frankie dressed in an almost identical outfit.
Erika called Frank Gifford “Big Frank” and her son “Little Frankie” before saying they were proud of Frank’s previous NFL team, the New York Giants. Frank holds a football in the first photo, while in the second, Frankie chews on a plush toy version. Fans were charmed by the pictures.
Some once again commented on how alike the pair were, while other fans thought the comparison photos were “the cutest.” Gifford herself commented on the snaps saying how adorable the comparison was.
Fans mentioned that Frank, Cody, and baby Frankie all looked very much alike. Some fans thought that Frank would have loved to meet his grandson and said they were three generations of lookalikes in the family.
Others simply said baby Frankie looked “so much like his Grandpa” as others again talked about how proud Frank would have been of the tiny tot.
Who Is Gifford’s Daughter-In-Law and Her Son’s Long-Term Love?
Gifford shares a close relationship with Cody’s wife, Erika, and when he proposed in 2019, Gifford shared her joy that her son had found the love of his life and was set to tie the knot with her.
Shortly after the proposal, Gifford took to Instagram to share a photo of her son and then-soon-to-be daughter-in-law kissing as Erika held up a bejeweled left hand. Many people sent messages of congratulations on the post.
Cody’s sister, Cassidy, also shared the news of her brother’s engagement on Instagram, saying how happy she was for the pair and that she was excited to welcome Erika into the family as her sister.
Fans commented on the engagement posts and said Frank would have been proud of his son. A year later, Cody and Erika caused mass excitement again on their September wedding day.
Gifford again used Instagram as her news platform, sharing that her son and daughter-in-law exchanged vows on Labor Day weekend. She featured a photo of the bride and groom walking and holding hands as they gazed into one another’s eyes. The caption read:
“God gave us a glorious day to celebrate this glorious couple. So grateful.”
Before Erika and Cody got engaged, they had been together since 2013, and Gifford was more than ready to welcome Erika into the family officially. Erika shared that although 2020 had been a challenging year for many, their wedding was a silver lining in a dark cloud.
Erika shared that only their closest family and friends had been in attendance, and they had taken all the necessary precautions to make it “the most blessed and perfect day of [their] lives.” However, the wedding had its share of hiccups.
Erika had a personalized veil, but the word “the” was misspelled as “The.” She joked it was to be expected from a year like 2020. Gifford commented that it was a testament to their love that they didn’t let slight inconveniences ruin the day.
Cody and Erika welcomed their son into the world two years after they tied the knot. When naming his son, Cody knew he wanted to honor his father and name his baby after him.
Cody and Erika named their son Frank Michael Gifford, and when Gifford found out, she admitted:
“I was surprised Cody named him after his dad because Cody knew what it was like to grow up in the shadow of a great man. But I guess he’s never gotten over, really, and he never will, the loss of his dad at an early age, and he was his hero, and he still is.”
Gifford shared that when she got the news that her son was expecting a baby, she told him that his father would be so happy with all the positive things happening in their lives and that he was smiling down on them.
Little Frankie’s name does not only honor his late grandfather but also a family member on Erika’s side. Frankie’s middle name, Michael, is a tribute to Erika’s uncle, who passed shortly before the little tike was born.
Frankie was born three weeks premature, but he and his mother were healthy following the birth, and he has now grown into a bouncing, happy, and healthy one-year-old who is adored by his family and his grandmother’s fans worldwide.
I Discovered My Husband Mocks Me in Front of His Friends & I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

I’m a full-time mom. About a year ago, I left my job to take care of our three-year-old daughter, who is autistic and requires a lot of support. Lately, I’ve noticed that my usually feminist husband has been criticizing me in a group chat.
Transitioning into the role of a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) wasn’t something I had envisioned for myself. I used to thrive in the fast-paced world of marketing, surrounded by campaigns and fueled by brainstorming sessions over coffee. But all that changed a little over a year ago when my husband, Jake, and I made a significant decision. Our daughter, Lily, who is three and autistic, needed more attention than what her daycare could provide. Her needs are complex, requiring constant care and support, and it became clear that one of us had to be with her full-time.
I won’t sugarcoat it — leaving my career behind was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I miss the freedom of earning my own income and the satisfaction of a job well done. But here I am now, spending my days planning meals, cooking, and baking. I’ve found joy in these tasks, and experimenting in the kitchen has become my new creative outlet.
Our backyard has turned into a small garden oasis under my care, and I take care of most of the household chores. Jake does his fair share too; he’s actively involved in chores and parenting whenever he’s at home. We’ve always considered ourselves equals, rejecting traditional gender roles, or so I thought until last week.
It was a regular Thursday, and I was tidying up Jake’s home office while he was at work. It’s filled with tech gadgets and piles of paperwork, typical for someone in software development. His computer screen caught my eye — it was still on, casting a soft glow in the dim room. He usually left it on by accident, but what I saw next wasn’t accidental at all.
His Twitter feed was open, and I froze when I saw the hashtag #tradwife attached to a tweet. Confusion washed over me as I read the post. It glorified the joys of having a traditional wife who embraces her domestic duties. Attached was a photo of me, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, looking every bit like a 1950s housewife. My stomach churned as I scrolled through more posts. There I was again, tending to the garden and reading to Lily, our faces thankfully obscured.
This was Jake’s account, and he had been crafting a whole narrative about our life that was far from reality. He portrayed me as a woman who relished her role as a homemaker, willingly sacrificing her career for aprons and storybooks. The truth of our situation — that this arrangement was a necessity for our daughter’s well-being — was nowhere to be seen.
I felt betrayed. Here was the man I’d loved and trusted for over a decade, sharing our life with strangers under a false pretense that felt foreign to me. It wasn’t just the lies about our relationship dynamics that hurt — it was also the realization that he was using these glimpses of our life to bolster some online persona.
I shut the computer down, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. All day, I grappled with my emotions, trying to comprehend why Jake would do this. Was he dissatisfied with our situation? Did he resent my decision to stay home? Or was it something deeper, a shift in how he perceived me now that I wasn’t contributing financially?
The rest of the day passed in a blur. His posts kept replaying in my mind, and eventually, I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I decided to call him and address everything head-on.
“Jake, we need to talk,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He answered, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, the weight of my discovery weighing heavily on me. “I saw your Twitter today…”
His expression fell, and he let out a long sigh, indicating he knew exactly what this conversation was about to entail. He started to respond, but I interrupted him.
“Calm down,” he said, dismissing it as “just harmless posting.” That was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce, called him out for his deceit, and ended the call.
Jake rushed home immediately. We argued, but with Lily’s strict schedule, I couldn’t let the conflict drag on. He pleaded with me to have a proper conversation after putting Lily to bed. Reluctantly, I agreed. That night, he showed me his phone, revealing that he had deleted the Twitter account. But the damage was already done.
A week passed, and my anger hadn’t subsided. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. It was a breach of trust. Jake attempted to explain, claiming it started as a joke, but he got carried away with the attention it garnered. But excuses weren’t enough.
Motivated by a mix of hurt and the need for justice, I decided to expose him. I took screenshots of his tweets and shared them on my Facebook page. I wanted our friends and family to know the truth. My post was straightforward: “Your husband belittles you in front of his friends behind your back. Sound familiar?”
The response was immediate. Our relatives were shocked, and the comments poured in. Jake was inundated with messages and calls. He left work early once more to beg for my forgiveness. He knelt, tears in his eyes, pleading that it was all just a “silly game.”
But I couldn’t let it go. The trust that bound us together was broken. It wasn’t just about a few misguided posts; it was about the respect and understanding we were supposed to have for each other. I told him I needed time and space to think and heal. I moved out with Lily to another apartment.
For six months, Jake begged for forgiveness. He sent messages, left voicemails, and made small gestures to show he was sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. I told him that if he truly wanted to make amends, we needed to start anew. In my eyes, we were strangers now, and he had to court me like he did years ago when we first met.
So, we began again, slowly. We went on dates, starting with coffee and progressing to dinners. We talked a lot — about everything except the past. It was like rediscovering ourselves individually and as a couple. Jake was patient, perhaps realizing this was his last chance to salvage our once-loving relationship.
As I sit here now, reflecting on the past year, I realize how much I’ve changed. This betrayal forced me to reevaluate not only my marriage but also myself and my needs. I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t just about accepting an apology; it’s about feeling secure and valued again. It’s a gradual process, one that we’re both committed to, step by step.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Share your thoughts on Facebook.
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