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For months, my parents had been trying to prepare me for the arrival of a real sibling. They had given me a doll to play with and encouraged me to take care of her. And when the baby, a little boy they named Rahm, finally arrived, they encouraged me to help take care of him, too.

I had to force myself not to be overly protective because I had lost one child.

My worst moments as a parent have been much like my greatest moments as a parent: the product of complete and perfect accident.

As an only child lacking siblings and playmates, I was alone a great deal of the time. Much of this was spent reading virtually anything I could get my hands on.

I have two little children. I didn't want to be missing their childhood while I was away, busy writing about children.

I had a great bond with my father. Even when I was a kid, my bond with my dad made me want to be a father myself one day.

My dad died when I was three so my mom had to raise four kids on her own, and I think there's a part of me that pulls upon having watched my mom do that our whole lives. She had to make it work.

Though I made my share of mistakes, as all parents do, I was devoted to my kids. I walked them to school every morning and walked back to pick them up at 3.

The needs of babies and toddlers were constant and drained the life out my sense of self and my family's relationship with each other.

Since I was a boy, from this house, I was out rescuing crocodiles and snakes. My mum and dad were very passionate about that and, I was lucky enough to go along.