The last couple of mornings, Owen the 2-year-old has taken to crying and latching onto my leg when I pick up my briefcase and open the door leading to the garage. Today, we had this conversation: Me: I have to go to work…let go! Owen: No, Dad-dy, no! Me: Quit […]
From left to right: the blond sprouts of Owen’s hair against his black car seat, Emilie’s staring into the bottom of a bag of gas station pretzels, Maddie’s disgust over her confinement to a car seat with no car, and Lola’s attempt to shield her pasty legs from the sun […]
Instead of in a bassinet in our closet, baby Lola now sleeps in a Pack N Play! In our closet.
Among the pages of captioned color photographs from my 2003 deployment is one that sticks out. There’s a woman in uniform, not unlike every other picture I have of persons in Iraq. But then there’s this guy. He has no BDU t-shirt or DCU pants; he’s in a white cotton […]
When each of our children was born, as soon as the hospital released the Mrs, I dropped her off at our house and went to work. The only time I provide exclusive childcare is in the evenings while they’re sleeping and on Sunday afternoons while she mans her store. Any […]
