As I write this, Larkin is in her room, screaming. It's a terrible, soul-crushing sound.

"She's upset that I tried to put her shoes on," Molly said when I went over to see what was up.

Larkin is just a year and a half old, but she has started the Terrible Twos already. She tests boundaries, she whines, she throws the occasional full-blown tantrum -- you know, the kind where she arches her back, goes rigid, and falls to the floor, writhing in… Read More

Today's blog is an exercise in pure anxiety. It's about my newspaper problem.

Years ago in my pre-fatherhood life, over lunch with an old college friend, I mentioned something I'd read that morning in the New York Times, and he winced. What with two little kids, he told me, he no longer had time for the Times. Couldn't keep up. He'd begun actually to hate the Sunday Times in particular, he confessed -- it was so big. Finally he let… Read More

In the beginning was the Word, the Bible tells us. But parents of a 1-and-a-half-year-old know otherwise. In the beginning is the Wail. Then come the Shriek, the Laugh, the Demanding Grunt, the Gibberish ... And only then -- at last, when you've waited and waited -- the Word.

Today is the day Larkin exploded into language. What a marvelous moment it is.

For months, she's been on the brink. Along with "Mama" and "Dada," she had a list of five words… Read More

Every morning when we bring Larkin down from her room, headed for breakfast, we pass a series of objects along the way, and I quiz her on them. Where's the diver? (The poster of an Olympic diver in the upstairs hallway.) Where's the window? (Over the stairway, bright with morning light). Where's the big bird? (A hand-carved eagle my parents bought 50 years ago in Arizona, now hanging on our landing wall.) Where's the light? (The stained glass chandelier.) Where's the fan? (The living room overhead.)

Larkin… Read More

Molly and I made it through our 30s without children, and our circle of friends included couples with kids and couples without. We never thought much about the difference. But after Larkin was born, suddenly it loomed large.

On the one hand, I was amazed by all the baby-lovers who came out of the woodwork -- a cadre of women who just wanted to be around babies, the way some men want to be around athletes. Like Elizabeth, a colleague of Molly's and… Read More

The SUV zoomed up close behind me, veered out to pass, then cut back in. It was massive and menacing and way too close. It was threatening my baby. I hit the horn. "Hey, you big fat cumquat!" I yelled, as Larkin chattered on in her car seat, oblivious.

Back in our pre-Larkin years, I resented those Baby on Board bumper stickers. What, I'd say, am I supposed to drive more slowly just because you have a baby? Is your baby's life somehow worth more… Read More