Magazine

Dear Priya from exactly six months ago. You're currently sitting on the bath mat in our freezing Chicago apartment, staring at the crooked grout lines while your son screams on the other side of the door. The e baby monitor...

It was a Tuesday afternoon, roughly forty-five minutes before I usually cave and put the television on, when Florence trotted up to me holding what appeared to be a very angry, moldy tennis ball. She deposited it directly onto my...

Dear Tom, You're currently sitting on the edge of a spectacularly uncomfortable plastic mattress in the maternity ward at St Thomas' Hospital, staring into a perspex box containing two squirming, purple, vernix-covered creatures. They look less like the cherubic infants...

It's 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, the Portland rain is actively trying to break my windowpanes, and I'm standing in the exact center of the nursery desperately trying to remember the bridge to a 1996 Mariah Carey pop anthem. My...