Epic Moments

Rosie is Number 1!

The Privilege of Parenting

Ouiji Board Nights

I'm a Believer

Dating Disasters

Bump Up Your Style

Traffic Terror

Dreams Come True

Queen Victoria's Toupee

Daddy Issues

Simple Needs

Babymoon Bonanza

Fluent in Rosie

Difficult Decisions

Push It

Mr. Roboto

In Da Club

One Size Doesn't Fit All

Something to Chew On

Bye Bye Baby

An Amazing Journey

The Nanny Olympics

Great News

You Got Served

Gagging the Children

The Root of the Problem

Culture Clash

Phobias and Leather Bandeau Tops

Au Naturel

Edgy and Outdoorsy

Serious Stuff

Lisa's Diary

Fashion Rocks

Scared Like the Rest of Us

Crazy as Usual

Serving and Gagging

Rosie Pope, Negotiator

Mina's Diary

Back to Reality

Holy War

Epic Moments

Daron will never forget the placenta smoothie scene.

When it’s all said and done, there are only a handful of moments in our lives which are truly epic. Moments which remain fresh in our minds forever and change us in some fashion.

January 27th, 1991: I’m in the 24th row of Tampa Stadium. Scott Norwood misses a 47-yard field goal with no time on the clock, and the Giants win Super Bowl XXV by one point. In the ensuing madness, someone steps on my jacket and cracks both the Vanilla Ice and Tom Petty CDs in my left-hand pocket. But I don’t care. I now understand the meaning of unadulterated happiness.

July 1st, 2004: I’m in a swanky N.Y. Hotel elevator, heading to happy hour. I’m feeling great -- wearing an outdated Hugo Boss double-breasted suit which may have shoulder pads. My friend is about six drinks past sober, unsuccessfully trying to flirt with a gorgeous blond. In the most enchanting English accent, the blond asks me if I can get my childish friend under control. As I apologize, she smiles at me. I’m finished. I will spend the rest of my life with this woman.

September 15th, 2008: I’m on the 3rd Floor Trading Floor at Lehman Brothers. My firm has just filed for bankruptcy in one of the most extraordinary collapses in financial history. I guess this evening’s client dinner is canceled. Oh and I have no idea what I’m doing with the rest of my life. Tonight: I’m watching the last few minutes of Pregnant in Heels. Fritz, who seems to buy his clothing from the set of Sergeant Pepper and likes to expound on the virtues of “Elimination Communication” (Rosie has the patience of a saint), is cheering on his wife, Christina, as she gulps down a placenta milkshake. Christina puts down the glass and reveals a placenta milk mustache on her upper lip. This image, which is both terrifying and strangely awe-inspiring, is immediately imprinted on my brain. I will carry it with me for the rest of my life. And this epic moment, like any other, has changed me forever. Don’t get me wrong. I’d give a lot to erase the last hour from my memory. But the fact remains -- there was the Daron of old, who would have called the placenta milkshake an urban legend, and the Daron of now, a man who must find the strength to accept that placenta milkshakes do, in fact, exist.