When my wife and I had our first, I spent the gestation with a fantasy that now I would be the potter to my offspring's clay. Molding, creating.

But kids aren't clay. They are little learning machines with their own motors and directions.

My image now is the old-time children's game of hoop bowling. The one where you use a stick to keep a rolling wooden hoop going. Having a kid is like dropping one of those hoops on a steep hill. It takes off, you start running after it, and try to keep up. You've got some control, but if you push the hoop too hard, or try to change its direction too fast it just falls down.