The Truth About Baby Shoes: A Letter To My Clueless Past Self
Dear Sarah from exactly six months ago. You're currently standing in the clearance aisle at Nordstrom Rack at like, 2:15 PM on a Tuesday, wearing those black leggings with the dried yogurt stain on the left knee, aggressively holding a...
The Great Plastic Illusion: A Dad's Guide to Baby Bottles
I was holding a six-month-old plastic bottle up to the harsh LED light of my kitchen exhaust hood at two in the morning when I realized something was terribly wrong. Next to it on the counter sat a brand new...
The Exhausting Truth About Buying Baby Wipes in the Modern Age
It's 3:14 in the morning, the room smells vaguely of sour milk and despair, and I'm furiously yanking at a packet of supermarket wet cloths that have decided to chain themselves together like a magician's endless handkerchief. I only need...
The truth about raising a dutch baby (and eating one)
I'm currently scraping dried egg batter off my kitchen cabinet at seven in the morning while my toddler aggressively signs for more bananas. This is the exact opposite of the tranquil, well-rested maternal ideal I had pictured when I started...
Surviving the Baby Boomer Years of Grandparenting
Don't, under any circumstances, politely accept the garbage bag full of your own crusty childhood stuffed animals just because your mom has misty eyes. I did this when my oldest was born, and let me tell you, it was a...
Baby Shower Games That Won't Make Your Guests Cringe
I was thirty-five weeks pregnant with my oldest, feet swollen into the shape of overcooked sausages, sitting on a floral armchair in a rural Texas living room while my mother-in-law's friend Brenda aggressively inhaled a microwaved Snickers bar smeared inside...
My 3 AM Million Dollar Baby Obsession
It's 2:47 AM on a Tuesday. I'm sitting on the nursery floor wearing a hoodie that smells faintly of regurgitated sweet potato, trying to rock one of my twin daughters back to sleep while her sister aggressively kicks the cot...
The brutal truth about picking baby names that won't ruin them
My mother-in-law cornered me in the kitchen at twenty weeks pregnant to gently suggest that our child's name needed to reflect our deep ancestral roots. Later that afternoon, my hipster neighbor in Logan Square casually mentioned over the fence that...
Mein absurder Kampf mit Fast Fashion und warum ich fast alles wegge...
Es war 2 Uhr morgens, ich trug eine graue Jogginghose, auf der undefinierbare, verkrustete SΓΌΓkartoffel-Brei-Reste klebten, und starrte auf einen gigantischen Berg von Babyklamotten. So richtig grelle, chemisch riechende Neondinosaurier-Strampler aus Poly-irgendwas und Hosen, die sich anfΓΌhlten wie aufgeweichtes Plastik....