A bridge collapsed yesterday a few miles from our house. It’s surreal, isn’t it? Huge structures aren’t supposed to just come crashing down without warning, killing people and crushing metal.

“This is just a reminder that we could all die at any time,” I told Dan, as we were trying to make sense of the disaster. “There are a million ways we could die every day.”

Neither of us slept very well last night.

At six, I pulled Shef into our bed for maximum dozing. Before he opened his eyes at seven, he said determinedly, “I want to be a big brudder.”

“I know, kiddo,” I said.

And do I ever. Last week, he repeatedly told his whole class he was getting a baby. Congratulations, his teacher finally told me on Friday. I tried to smile as I refuted the news.

“Tell me when the baby is done growing in your tummy,” Shef continued this morning. “Actually, let’s grow two babies. That way we can each hold one.”

And so there have been lots of reminders that we are not, in fact, in very much control at all.