At Washington, D. C.

At Washington, D. C.

Two weekends ago Tom took David to Washington, D.C. for a father-son adventure. They rode the train, and the subway. They visited the zoo, the Museum of Natural History, and the National Air and Space Museum. A post shared by Tom Krieger (@thomas_c_krieger) on Feb 26, 2017 at 1:04pm PST If you ask David about the

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Imitating life

It has been unreasonably hot here for the past few weeks — we’ve spent all of our time in the air conditioning or the pool or wishing that’s where we were. But don’t misunderstand me — even when I’m sweating through my shorts at the park, chasing the shade and praying for a breeze? Just a small one? Is a breeze be too

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Due date

Today was Thomas’s due date, which means at this time last year I was eating an entire bag of Cheetos every day and coming to terms with the fact that I was going to be pregnant for the rest of my life. I signed up to be pregnant for 40 weeks. Forty weeks and one day means I’ll probably

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Deja baby

I get a lot of comments about how similar my kids look. “There’s a Krieger prototype,” I always respond. The truth is, though, I see my kids’ personalities so clearly that I really don’t think David and Mary Virginia look alike at all. And I used to joke that I could interchange the boys’ baby

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On family dynamics and age gaps

Recently I wrote age order posts about each of my children (David, Mary Virginia, Thomas) because, when I have time to think, I think a lot about my kids — about who they are and what they need as individuals, and about how they fit into and shape our family. Our kids are pretty close in

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Big-brother, dream-killer

Mary Virginia: Look Mommy! I’m twirling! I look like Cinderella! David: No, Mary. You look like Mary in a dress. Mary Virginia: Mommy, can I wear that alligator shirt? David: Uh, Mary, it’s not an alligator. It’s a dragon. Mommy: David, Mary Virginia is pretending. If she wants to pretend this is an alligator costume she can,

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The oldest of three

Most mornings, David asks me how we’re going to spend the day. Often, he asks if we can go to the children’s museum. No, I tell him over and over. We aren’t going to the museum. Inevitably he asks why and I tell him the truth: Because Mommy’s afraid to go to the museum with

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