Roby’s not a thing, she’s a person. Obviously. But Abby and I came to the equally obvious conclusion that having Roby was the best thing we’ve ever done. It just sort of came up in conversation, and it felt very true and very right. Everything before Roby, B.R., feels like a trailer to the real deal. In some ways it makes me wish we had had children earlier, but of course that means we wouldn’t have had Roby, and I also wasn’t in a position to be the person I am for her until right this moment. The timing was exactly right. Ordained even, perhaps, potentially, probably, almost certainly. 

And speaking of not having Roby, I wonder sometimes about the precarity of it all, had I done a jumping jack the morning of her conception she’d be a completely different genetic expression of her mom and me. But of course I didn’t, and now Roby’s trying to go to sleep in Abby’s arms right now instead of Ulysses or a different little girl with the name Roby. 

I don’t think that that’s random chance, I don’t think that Roby is just a one in a trillion chance of person we just happened to end up with, I think she’s exactly right. The divine porridge of a daughter. She’s exactly right for her time and place and circumstance and the universe could not accept a different outcome than her specific perfection within it in this moment. It just had to have Roby