
On his third day of life, our little guy, a month early and ramen-noodle-yellow with jaundice, was coccooned in a sling and carried on the subway to the doctor.

On his third day of life, our little guy, a month early and ramen-noodle-yellow with jaundice, was coccooned in a sling and carried on the subway to the doctor.

O, Mr Softee! We live 50 feet from an excellent old-school Brooklyn ice cream shop, but there’s still something about those trucks that makes a kid’s pulse surge. more…

It is hard to overstate what a great place Brooklyn is for raising a kid. The range of people and experiences that are immediately accessible is spine-wrigglingly exciting. more…

The other day the Boy said, half to himself, “I can’t wait ’til I’m eight, so I can have my own key and go to the bodega by myself.”

The Boy has been lucky with babysitters, from the lovely Bangladeshi woman who took care of him as a little one, to the ageless, old-school Brooklyn woman whose energy is a match for any five-year-old.

My apologies to those impatient for resolution to the Cyclops’ story. more…

Buoyed by the success of our Channukah post, I’m attempting more…