When I first arrived in Gothenburg, one thing that became most apparent was that it would be a city of children. Inside the Landvetter Airport, a jungle gym had been erected in the waiting area at the gate and deserted strollers littered the terminal as if dozens of toddlers had planned a coup and sprinted off all at once, sending their adults on chase. While the strollers turned out to have nothing to do with a miniature-person mutiny and were only positioned throughout the terminal because Landvetter does not allow prams to be gate-checked or returned upon disembarking in Gothenburg, my hypothesis that the city would be one filled with kids was true. Read more
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
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.
My wife had reservations about flying with an infant. “What if she cries for the entire flight? What if everyone hates us?” Read more