The other day Sari had an appointment in Manhattan, so I took care of Phoebe for the afternoon. Couple hours into it and Phoebe wakes up starving from her nap. Just as I sit down with her and a bottle of pre-pumped breast milk, the phone rings. It’s Sari.

“Is Phoebe hungry? Are you feeding her now?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised at her timing. “How’d you know?”

“My boobs were tingling.”