Father Does Not Know Best. (But neither does Mother.)

When Zach was first born and I was unsure of how to keep him alive, let alone help him grow up to be kind and generous and able to fix a toaster, Jeff and I would fight.  Jeff thought that Zach was gaining weight just fine; I thought we should take him in to the office to put him on the postal scale. He thought giving Zach a pacifier was fine; I thought it would doom him to a life of insecure attachment.  He thought Zach's latch was just fine; I thought my nipples were going to spontaneously c … [Read more...]