Jenifer DeMattia

He draws them constantly. To someone who doesn’t know him, they would just assume it’s squiggles on a piece of paper.

I am a mother of two boys. No girls yet, so maybe I’m a little partial. If I was ever brave enough or drunk enough to decide to have another child, and that child was a girl, I’d be over the moon.

I remember my first son lighting up as a baby when he saw me, but nothing like this.

Maybe, some men don’t really ever grow up. Maybe some men are living the adventure.

The crib used to contain them, provide some sort of barrier between them and the ground. And then one day they get brave enough to climb over the “great wall,” open the door, and look at you in a whole new way.