It's our fourth child, but our first induction. I have some thoughts on that.
I'm writing this letter to you because I recently realized that you will remember almost nothing of your life so far.
It's been a full year since Samuel Peregrine graced us with his presence, adding new excitement to our family life in time for a pandemic.
My son Charlie just turned two years old, and I'm pretty sure he's my best friend.
After two years of being a dad, I finally had an entire weekend of parenting all by myself. Here's what I learned from the father-son bonding time.
It’s hard to believe that my newborn son is already more than a month old, but this calls for some reflection on the new stage of life that we have entered—man-to-man parental defense. With one month in the books, I’m proud to report that we have thus far largely flourished under these new conditions.
As of this writing, our son is three days past his due date and rapidly approaching four. Four days? Is that really all it's been? Each of those days has felt like at least a week.
They say that patience is a virtue. I'm sure it is. Unfortunately, I've always been a big fan of instant gratification. This makes the nine-month journey of pregnancy--a beautiful and wondrous experience, to be sure--just a little bit torturous towards the end for a guy like me.
We have now entered the same month as our due date, the official sign that we are in the pregnancy home stretch. Soon we will reach the surreal point where the milk in the fridge has a later expiration date than this pregnancy. Are we ready?