Surviving the 3 AM Panic: A British Dad's Guide to Baby Rash Cream
The glow of the GroEgg in the corner of the nursery was an ominous, angry red, which felt entirely appropriate given what I was about to uncover inside Florence's sleepsuit. It was 3:14 in the morning, a time when human...
The baby registry target reality check: What you actually need
"You don't need anything except a box of diapers and some onesies," my mother-in-law announced over her Pinot Grigio at my baby shower, which was aggressively unhelpful considering I was already sweating through my maternity leggings. Then my best friend...
Dear Past Me: The Truth About Baby Rudin And Math Milestones
Dear Sarah of exactly six months ago, You're currently sitting on the cold kitchen floor in Leo's old oversized Ninja Turtles hoodie, aggressively googling baby Rudin while eating stale Goldfish crackers out of a plastic bag at 2:14 AM. You're...
Why I Took Kitchen Scissors to My Infant's First Pair of Sneakers
I was sweating through my shirt in a Target parking lot in late October, wrestling with a foot that looked exactly like a Hawaiian sweet roll. My oldest son was eight months old, and I was determined to get him...
The Have a Baby With Me Daniel Caesar Lie You Actually Believe
I was sitting in my Honda CR-V in the garage with the engine off. It was a Tuesday. My toddler was finally asleep upstairs, and I was just staring at the steering wheel while the Bluetooth kept playing whatever Spotify...
Hang In There Baby: Surviving The Fourth Trimester Beta Test
The digital thermometer on the nursery wall read exactly 68.4 degrees. It was 3:14 AM on Day 42 of our daughter's life, and she was executing a continuous, high-pitch audio loop that I was pretty sure violated several international treaties....
Letter To My Sleep-Deprived Self About This Incredibly Gassy Baby
Dear Jess from exactly six months ago. You're currently sitting on the edge of the glider in the nursery at 3:17 AM. You've got an Etsy order for fifty custom trucker hats due on Tuesday that you haven't even touched,...
When the Internet Decides Your Toddler Needs Street Cred
I was wiping smeared avocado off my toddler's chin at the local park when a pack of ten-year-olds sat on the bench next to us. One of them had a phone propped up, blasting gang baby lyrics into the humid...
Debugging the Roblox Baby Nessie Meltdown
Whatever you do, don't try to explain the mathematics of random number generation to an eight-year-old who's actively weeping onto your couch cushions. I learned this the hard way last Saturday. My nephew Leo was visiting for the weekend, huddled...