Nothing in my life compares to my children. I have had a career overwhelming in its depth, excitement, intrigue, mystery and consequence. I love my wife Tammy deeply—loyal, beautiful, provocative—my friend for more than fifty years. It's a privilege and an honor to be married to her. I can't believe my good fortune in a partner. But nothing in my life compares to my children. And they in turn love their children. Julian and his wife Jillian have three. That's an increasingly rare accomplishment. They were bested on that front, however, this week. My daughter Mikhaila and her husband Jordan welcomed the arrival of their fourth child Francis Jordan Fuller, eight pounds one oz, Tuesday, July 28 at 11:14 PM. Mother and son are doing well. Let us take a moment, in consequence, to marvel at women. Over the last three years, I watched my daughter Mikhaila juggle my affairs and my illness, start and run Peterson Academy with her husband Jordan, launch Afterparty, a new commercial product, while preparing two more (coming soon), and initiate a formal clinical trial of a dietary intervention for autoimmune disorders—all the while, pregnant and with small children. George is not yet three, Audrey not two, and now, in the midst of all that, Francis. And her pregnancies have not been easy: Mik's health is precarious, in consequence of her auto-immune condition, which manifested itself early in her life and took two of her joints: her left ankle and her right hip. She's managed to put into remission what the staff at the Toronto Hospital for Sick Children described as the worst case of juvenile rheumatoid arthritis they had even seen. But maintaining that requires constant attention and management. Mikhaila has an older child, too. Elizabeth Scarlett, now nearing nine. She's an absolute delight, as healthy, well-managed children can God willing be: clowny, happy, clear-headed, playful, beautiful, social, friendly, smart and talented. George, a little clown himself, is thriving and—more miraculously—so is Audrey. That little girl was hospitalized last year with a rare virally induced cardiac problem. It almost killed her. Mikhaila and my son-in-law JF spent weeks in the hospital with their new baby. Thank God she recovered. None of that stopped my daughter. In the midst of catastrophe, she determined to bring forth new life: three children in the last three years. An all-consuming enterprise, which she has managed without being all consumed. I suppose in some ways it's the most commonplace of things, although the deadly low birth rate in the West suggests otherwise. But life is the miraculous in the commonplace: there are some nine billion of us, but every one of us is unique—something that never happened before and never will again. The wise remember that every second of their lives. And now we have Francis. Congratulations, to Mikhaila and JF. Congratulations, Tam, my love. And to baby Francis Fuller: welcome to the world, terrible and wonderful as it is.