his little plastic pliers, to match my dad’s real metal ones, to twist the door frame. there was much grunting and production involved. and i stood just inside the porch watching them thinking, these days are numbered, and it almost made me cry. something about being a parent makes you see time more clearly, see that it will pass, that it is a constant. this is a comfort for stressful periods, when you think you can’t make it any further, and a sadness for happy periods, when you wish the night would never end. it’s striking me much more with this second pregnancy. i see my husband and our life 