Saturday, June 27, 2009
Dear Baby #3,
You don't exist yet. Not even a tiny cluster of cells. But I'm beginning to think about you. Your sisters are a handful and yet I crave more. More chaos. More cheeks. More.
The Dalton School. Yale College. Columbia Law. My resume, if I still had one, would have that triple-Ivy-League luster. But, alas, here I am in my blue jeans, a five second lawyer, a rookie novelist, a Manhattan mom of two, musing about everything from motherhood to morality. Am I just another spoiled soul who is wasting an elite education? Could be…