For the past few months Larkin has been helping me make coffee in the morning. This began as a way to pry her free from the books she makes us read as soon as we take her out of her crib. "Want to go downstairs and have breakfast?" we ask, after the third book. "Want to help Dada make coffee?"

"Yeah!" she says.

So I take my little barista downstairs and into the pantry. She stands on the countertop, and… Read More

You know how sometimes, before your child is born, or when she's still a tiny infant, you and your spouse raise these hypothetical questions about how she'll turn out? What if she hates sports? What if she's uninterested in school? You reassure yourself that everything will be fine, you'll love her no matter what she does or doesn't like.

But what if she doesn't like to read?

Of the things Molly and I hope to transmit to Larkin, a love of books… Read More

Twice a year, we visit the World's Most Amazing Children's Yard Sale, a three-day extravaganza, one town over from us, run by a woman who started it small and grew it to epic proportions. Molly and I have bought some of Larkin's favorite outfits there, as well as Baby Freaky, the doll who is her inseparable companion. For $50 we haul away more swag than you'd believe. But the real reason I go is the high I get from seeing how insanely well-organized the yard sale… Read More

Because I'm a writer and spend my days trying to call forth words from the void, I'm fascinated by how a toddler who's learning language does precisely this -- and by how the words, in turn, call forth the toddler. The onset of language in a child raises one of life's great chicken-and-egg questions: which comes first, the idea or the word? When I say to Larkin, "Can you ask for that politely?", she responds, "Yes please Daddy Cooper!" Clearly, an almost-2-year old understands language functionally: she… Read More

An unexpected thing happened at poker. I play with a group of guys, all in our late 40s. For four hours we drink scotch, tell stupid jokes, and trash-talk each other. We also keep the table loaded with junk food.

Most of the others have kids 10 years older than Larkin; my belated entry into the ranks of marriage and fatherhood provoked considerable mirth, since I'd been seen as a fairly hard case. The razzing can get raucous. But Paul, a college professor, doesn't… Read More

Every weekday I pick Larkin up at Fabiola's and ask her what she wants to do for the afternoon. Go to the park? Visit my friend Dan, aka The Monkey? Head to the library and read some books?

Stroll through the center of West Hartford and check out the host of wacky, life-sized bovine sculptures known as the Cow Parade?

Or how about food shopping? "Want to go to the supermarket and have some fun?" I'll ask her.

"Please!" she says, which in her… Read More