The Hilarious Truth About Planning a Baby Moon in the Real World
I was hunched over a Buc-ee's toilet somewhere off I-35, entirely convinced I was going to throw up my own spleen, when my husband tapped on the stall door and asked if we should start booking our baby moon. Iβm...
The 3AM Kitchen Panic: Surviving the Baby Motrin Maths Test
There's a highly specific, deeply stressful kind of maths you only ever do at 3:17 in the morning, standing barefoot on a cold kitchen tile while a tiny, feverish human wails from the nursery. I usually have a sticky bottle...
Surviving the Baby Mozart Delusion With Two Extremely Loud Twins
It was 3:14 AM on a dismal, rain-soaked London Tuesday, and I was pinned to the sofa beneath two howling six-month-olds, frantically jabbing at my phone with my nose. I was trying to skip a shockingly loud Spotify advert for...
The Real Reason I Cried About My Baby's Name at the Hospital
I was sitting in exactly the wrong position on that terrible plastic-covered hospital mattress, wearing mesh underwear that I swear was designed as a medieval torture device, nursing a lukewarm cup of what the cafeteria boldly claimed was coffee, when...
The 3 AM Snot Exorcism: A Guide To Your Baby Nose Sucker
It's 3:14 AM. I'm sitting on the edge of the nursery glider, wearing a nursing bra that definitely smells like sour milk and my husband Dave's faded Pearl Jam t-shirt. My four-month-old, Leo, is making a sound that I can...
Is That Tiny Baby Nutribullet Actually Worth Your Counter Space?
I was standing in my kitchen staring at a raw sweet potato like it had personally offended me, completely paralyzed by the sheer volume of conflicting advice Iβd received in the last forty-eight hours. My mother-in-law had just been leaning...
A Letter to Past Me About That Melting Baby on Board Sticker
Dear Tom of Six Months Ago, You're currently standing in the drizzle outside the Tesco Extra in Purley, holding a half-eaten, saliva-dissolved rice cake in your left hand while using the thumbnail of your right hand to furiously scrape at...
What to Do When Your Kids Find a Tiny Opossum in the Backyard
Tuesday morning. 7:14 AM. I'm standing in the damp grass wearing my husband's oversized flannel bathrobe, one fuzzy sock because the dog stole the other one, and holding a mug of coffee that has already been microwaved three separate times....
What the Story of Baby Patrick Taught Me About Surviving Fatherhood
Before we even left the hospital car park, the senior midwife leaned into my personal space with the gravity of a seasoned war general and whispered that I absolutely must do skin-to-skin contact for exactly forty-five uninterrupted minutes a day...