The Russell hard hats are a huge hit. The original idea for them came after an 11 month old Grace fell ass-over-bambox all the way down a flight of stairs. Oops. Godmother Hadley and I were busy looking at dresses in the closet. And then Whit, too, tumbled down a whole flight, while the Woods were over to trim the tree at Christmas 2005.

This past weekend at the Vogts’ house, Whit scrambled up the stairs from the basement and wandered into the dining room where the adults were eating. Clenched in each fist was a dart. Several of the other assembled parents gasped and looked at me. Truly, my honest reaction was what I said out loud: “Darwin.”

I am indeed my mother’s daughter. For all of my OCD, type-A, anal retentive compulsions in my own life, I’m a remarkably laissez-faire parent. Where did this come from? It must be rooted in some deep confidence in the children’s abilities to survive, and thrive, despite whatever accidents befall them. So, for this blind trust that Grace and Whit will manage in an environment of profound love and absolutely no tissue-paper-wrapping, I thank my parents … This sense of trust in the world is a real gift, and I’m grateful for it. I am consistently surprised – and, frankly, pleased – by the ease with which many of the small bumps of parenthood pass beneath my feet … not upsetting the apple cart, just creating mild turbulence.