Magazine
The disaster of picking a baby boy easter outfit
It was ten in the morning on a Sunday and I was staring at a mustard-yellow blowout that had completely breached the hull of a forty-dollar miniature linen suit. My mother-in-law was knocking on the powder room door, asking if...
What I Wish I Knew Before Googling Dwarf Baby Tears
Dear Sarah of November 14th, currently sitting on the cold bathroom tile at 3:17 AM in yesterday's yogurt-stained Lululemon leggings. You have your phone in one hand and a screaming four-month-old Leo in the other, and you're desperately typing things...
Navigating The Difference Between Gas Bubbles And Baby Moving
It was 11:42 PM on a Tuesday, I was wearing Daveβs stained college sweatpants that smelled vaguely of old laundry detergent, and I was absolutely convinced there was an alien trying to claw its way out of my lower intestine....
That Cute Little Green Alien Herb is Definitely Not for Kids
I was standing in line at H-E-B last Tuesday, wrestling my squirming two-year-old on my hip while trying to order a baby shower gift for my cousin on my phone. She is completely obsessed with that Mandalorian show, so I...
When Can You Finally Stop Burping Your Baby? A Mom's Honest Story
I remember sitting in the dark in the rocking chair that squeaked every time I leaned back, aggressively patting my oldest son's back like I was trying to dislodge a stuck vending machine snack. It was probably 3:14 AM on...
Spare Ribs vs Baby Back Ribs: A Dadβs Guide to Debugging Toddler BBQ
I was standing at the meat counter of our neighborhood New Seasons in Portland, panic-googling whether "baby back" meant the ribs actually came from a baby pig. My wife Sarah was three aisles over dealing with a minor avocado-related meltdown...
Dear Past Marcus: Those Aren't Pale Ants, They're Baby Termites
Dear Marcus of exactly six months ago: Put down the flashlight. That tiny, pale, squirming thing you're currently poking with a cotton swab at 2:14 AM on the bathroom tile is not an albino ant. It's a baby termite. Don't...
The Honest Truth About Your Baby Dedication (And Surviving It)
Let me paint a picture for y'all. It's Sunday morning, roughly 10:15 AM. I'm sitting in the second pew, sweating clean through my nice silk blouse, while my oldest sonβwho was supposed to look like a literal angel from heavenβis...
My Absolute Worst Night With Matching Baby Christmas Pajamas
The zipper was officially jammed in the microfleece reindeer antlers. It was roughly two in the morning on December twenty-third, and my six-month-old, Maya, was screaming with the raw intensity of a level-one trauma arrival. Her face was the color...