From the Publisher

It's 6 a.m. and I'm on the road. Approximately 30 minutes from home I was preparing to visit one of the five restaurants I oversaw when I got the call.

"I think my water broke." Shifting into race car driver mode, flashers on, 68-mph in a 45-mph zone, no problem. Barely getting my work van into park, I am running into the house. Expecting to find Kelly, in a chair in the kitchen doing those breathing techniques. Nope, she's in the bedroom ironing her clothes to wear when she comes home from the hospital. We arrive at the hospital, get checked in and in our room by 7 a.m.

In my twenties, I knew...