Jeff Ruby

If there were Pregnancy Police, I’d be calling 911 right now. As it turns out, my wife’s not really respecting the laws of the bed rest. She’s using the extra time to launch all kinds of complex projects involving sewing and reorganizing bookshelves and figuring out why our bathroom smells like a hungover moose. I can’t stop her, and she can’t stop herself... Read more

In 2000, I proposed to Sarah at a B & B in Lakeside, Michigan. Got down on one knee, took her hand, the whole thing. She proposed back, rings were exchanged, and then we were just kind of like: What do we do now?... Read more

Hannah lost a tooth the other day, her fourth. In our home, the Tooth Fairy has a grand tradition of leaving these big fancy notes of congratulation—in addition to the money—in exchange for the tooth under the pillow. So that’s what the Tooth Fairy did, even though it was 11 p.m. and he had worked a long day and was tired, and he still had to clean the kitchen and take out the recycling... Read more

Bed rest. Just say the words and women cringe. Then they offer to bring over lasagne. Sarah’s been having crazy pains all over her body, especially in that special contraction zone, which makes O.B.s awfully nervous—and ours, the unflappable Dr. Harth, finally told Sarah that if working was causing her pain, then stop working. So she has... Read more