Magazine
The Baby Shark YouTube Dilemma: Troubleshooting Infant Screens
My mother-in-law swore that firing up a specific bright yellow video was the only way to hard-reset a tantrum. My senior dev pinged me on Slack claiming that same video permanently alters neural pathways. And the guy steaming oat milk...
The Great Baby Seat Illusion (And What Actually Worked For Us)
It was 87 degrees, I was exactly four days postpartum, and I was sobbing into a half-eaten blueberry muffin in the back of our Honda CR-V. Maya was screaming in her brand new car seat like we were torturing her,...
The Real Truth About People Actually Finding Your Baby Registry
I was sitting in a literal pile of bright pink cardboard boxes on my living room floor, four days after my first baby shower, ugly-crying into a burp cloth because not a single person bought the organic crib sheets I...
A Rat in the Playroom and Why I Tossed All Our Plastic Toys
I was holding a lukewarm mug of chai, stepping over the scattered debris of my toddler's morning play session. Beside the television stand, there was a grey lump. At first, I thought it was just a discarded lint ball from...
Troubleshooting Baby Potatoes: Air Fryers, Skins & Starch
I was wrist-deep in my eleven-month-oldβs mouth, desperately trying to scrape a wet, glued-on piece of potato skin off his hard palate while he shrieked like a dial-up modem. My wife, carrying a laundry basket, froze in the doorway, took...
That Time A Baby Possum Taught Me Everything About Infant Sleep
I was standing in my gravel driveway at two in the afternoon, sweat pooling in the small of my back, holding a literal shoebox containing a shivering, bald little creature while my oldest toddler screamed so loud the neighbors probably...
My 3 AM Colic Panic and the Truth About Gripe Water for Babies
It's 3:14 AM. Tuesday. Or maybe a Thursday, time is a flat circle anyway when you haven't slept more than forty consecutive minutes in a month. I'm wearing my husband Dave's gray sweatpants with a mysterious crusty stain on the...
What The Gypsy Rose Baby Taught Me About Generational Trauma
Itβs 3:14 AM. Iβm sitting on the cold tile of my bathroom floor wearing Daveβs gross college sweatpants with the mysterious bleach stain on the left knee, holding a sleeping Leo who currently feels like a thirty-pound sack of wet...
The Brutal Truth About H&M Sizing and My Fast Fashion Paradox
I was literally sitting on the floor of Mayaβs nursery, which was painted this exact shade of sage green that I spent three weeks hyper-fixating on during my third trimester, crying over a tiny beige cardigan. She was maybe eight...