For the first twenty weeks after Harper was born, Marissa and I were pretty laid back about our daughter’s bedtime ritual. She’ll go to sleep at some appropriate hour, we had rationalized, and when she wakes up in the middle of the night, we’ll deal with it. (In the interest of accurate reporting, Marissa dealt with it, since each time Harper woke at those ungodly hours, my wife was more biologically gifted at nursing her to sleep.) Read more
On my drive from New York to Cape Cod, I noticed a disparity among the Do Not Litter signs posted along the interstate. In Rhode Island, the signs warned drivers that the punitive fine is as low as $55. But one state over, Massachusettsans–now that’s a word and also some insight as to why outsiders opt for the term Masshole instead–can be charged up to $10,000 for chucking a piece of trash from their car window. Read more
While I love everything to do with the Cape Cod’s stretch ocean and the vibe of New England beach towns, the one thing that I seem to plot out each time I visit is how many clam shacks I’ll be able to squeeze into one trip. After a recent visit to the Upper Cape, where the best clam shacks in Cape Cod are arguably located, I was able to map out four seafood experiences that are worth a visit. Read more
To date, Marissa has dutifully breastfed our daughter for seven months. That’s not to say it’s been easy, (for her). There were those endless nighttime feedings that took place when Harper refused to sleep for more than three hours straight; those two-in-the-morning pump sessions; and those daily commutes with a giant breast pump that looks like a pocketbook that the prison system would distribute to inmates, (if there were a prison program to give pocketbooks to the incarcerated). Read more
When Marissa and I were expecting, a father of two young children told me that he wished there was a blog that told parents where to dine with their kids. I told him that there probably were a number of blogs like that already. As a father, I’m not of the same mindset as that dad; I’ll take Harper to most restaurants that won’t give us the boot. But on Father’s Day, I found the perfect place for parents who don’t want to go fine-dining with their infant. (More on that next month.) Marissa surprised me with an itinerary that included a stroll over the Brooklyn Bridge, a walk through Brooklyn Bridge Park, and a food tour through Smorgasburg, a Sunday food market that begins at 11:00 am. Smorgasburg, I realized, was the dining experience that the father with the two young kids needed.