I tried to sound nonchalant. Stammering only raises those (cute) little antennae. But there is nothing quite so stressful as aiming for mellow.

This week in Parenthesis, Jim Griffioen dazzles (again) with his creative kid costumes, Charlie Capen looks back on his child-fearing days and Kristen...

This week in Parenthesis, Rebecca Woolf cops to birthday-planning paralysis, Kristen Howerton throws a thorny question out to her community and more. ...

Why do so many care that there were children in the theater? Or, more specifically, why do so many care so much that this is what they focus on before the bodies of the victims are even buried? And why do they feel so strongly that they actually suggest those who died might have brought this on themselves?

I remember the first time I left the house without a diaper bag; just me, a child, and a destination. But what I don't remember was the last time I did bring those things along. If I had realized it would never happen again, would I have savored or celebrated?