My son, acting a lot like his father

My husband is sort of a tech guy. That will come as an understatement for anyone who knows him. Wherever Tom goes, he leaves a trail of various devices, chargers and cords behind him. And when we were on our honeymoon (in a cabin in Montana), he tried to teach me binary. David’s favorite toy

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Birthday breakfast

I’ve set an alarm just once in the past year. Every other morning Tom and I wake up when David starts making pterodactyl noises in his crib. Tom is always uncharacteristically optimistic early in the morning and says, “Maybe he’ll go back to sleep.”  But David never goes back to sleep. One of us (usually Tom) rises from

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Three years today

Tom and I met in 2001, started dating the last week of 2007, and got married three years ago today. If, the day before Tom asked me out on a date, someone had told me that I was about to go on a date with Tom Krieger I would have laughed in their face. In

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Happy Father’s Day

When my grandma (my dad’s mom) met David for the first time, she asked if Tom helped change diapers. She told me that her husband, my grandfather, never changed diapers. Are you kidding me? Tom is a diaper-changing specialist. He changed almost all of David’s diapers for the first two weeks of his life, and

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My office, now.

My kid already knows how to work the power seat. He’s gripping both arms of the chair like he’s Donald Trump in the board room.  And that look of annoyance? It’s the kind of annoyance that comes with a feeling of superiority…and being forced to wear seersucker. It’s as if he’s saying, “I might be drooling

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How I know I married an honest man

We started giving David some solids. Over the past few days he’s had avocado, potato and banana. He LOVES it. It’s wigged out his digestive system, though. He went from pooping three or so times a day to…zero. I’ve heard this is normal, and that when his system decides to move it will MOVE. I

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Love.

Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the

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