When My Back Gave Out: The Ugly Truth About a Baby Hip Carrier
We were twenty minutes into the Parker County Peach Festival when I felt something in my lower spine actually shift. It was 98 degrees in the shade, the air felt like a wet wool blanket, and my sixteen-month-old son, Beau,...
Why the wild baby lion parenting trend is completely exhausting
I'm standing in the produce aisle at Marianos while my two-year-old arches his back so hard he resembles a freshly caught trout. He's furious because I won't let him bite directly into a raw, unpeeled sweet potato. An older woman...
Surviving the Chaos: The Truth About Raising a One-Year-Old
I was on my hands and knees, using a blunt butter knife to scrape a disturbing amount of smashed avocado out of the grooves of our Victorian skirting board, when I realised the greatest lie of modern parenting. The lie...
The exact number of tiny teeth to expect (and how to survive them)
There I was, standing in our London kitchen at four in the morning with a screaming toddler on each hip, trying to sort through three entirely contradictory pieces of advice I’d received that week. My mother-in-law had cheerfully suggested rubbing...
Why the Sweet Stuff Is Off the Menu: A Guide to Honey for Infants
Tuesday, 3:18 AM. Twin A (the one with the lungs) has developed a cough that sounds vaguely like a sea lion demanding fish. My phone vibrates on the nightstand. It's my mother, who possesses a bizarre sixth sense for when...
Surviving The Boss Bitch Baby Phase Without Losing Your Dignity
Tuesday, 6:14 AM. The sun hasn't quite breached the London skyline, but my flat is already the site of a hostile corporate takeover. Clementine is standing in her cot, holding a soggy rice cake like a gavel, demanding that I...
Surviving The Kpop Demon Hunters Baby Phase With Twin Toddlers
I'm currently crouched behind our kitchen island at 6:15 am, clutching a lukewarm mug of instant coffee and watching my two-year-old daughters attempt a synchronized tactical roll across the living room rug. One of them is holding a rather grubby...
Buying Lil Baby Tickets: The Great Airplane Lap Infant Lie
The seatbelt sign dings with that specific, mocking chime. I'm currently wedged into row 14B of an easyJet flight to Geneva, sweating through my jumper. Twin A is arching her back with the rigid intensity of a feral cat dodging...
The Only Sane Guide to Finding the Best Baby Walker Right Now
When Maya was eight months old, we went to a family barbecue where I received three entirely different lectures about baby mobility in the span of twenty minutes. My mother-in-law cornered me by the potato salad to insist that I...