Donald and I want another baby. It’s a fierce desire, this longing for another child.  We look at our family of three at the dinner table and feel that someone is missing.  We see our daughter totter about independently and want →MORE...

About two months ago, Charlotte came to me with a book in her hand.  She handed it to me, then held open her arms for me to pluck her up on my lap.  And then she began to flip the pages →MORE...

When I was deleting images last night, I came across this one and was stunned by how much has changed in the past eight months.  WHO IS THAT BALD BABY?

My daughter is beginning to throw temper tantrums.  And, wow, between signing NO every time she sees the car-seat and wailing at the top of her lungs whenever life is minutely frustrating, the entire dynamic of parenting seems to have changed.  →MORE...

Donald loves numbers, which is probably how we wound up with no fewer than six counting books in our midst.  I do not love numbers, but of all the counting books we read to Charlotte, I have to admit that I →MORE...