Magazine

Dear Jess from six months ago, You're currently holding a soiled diaper under the bathroom nightlight, poking at a perfectly intact yellow kernel and wondering if you've fundamentally broken your third child's digestive tract. Put the diaper down, wash your...

You're sitting in the semi-dark at 3:14 AM, the harsh blue light of your phone illuminating a stack of pristine, unread hardcovers on your nightstand while your newborn does that weird pterodactyl screech. You bought all of them when you...

It was 2:00 PM on a Tuesday, and I was sitting on my living room rug nursing a lukewarm coffee while a giant plastic jungle gym flashed neon green lights directly into my six-week-old's eyeballs. The thing was blaring some...

Before we hit play on a Saturday afternoon, I received three entirely distinct pieces of advice about this film. My sister-in-law, who curates her children’s wooden toy collection by color, warned me it was corporate propaganda designed to rot the...

Somewhere around the eighty-fourth consecutive rendition of The Wheels on the Bus, you experience a big sort of ego death. I was standing in the kitchen at 6am, wearing a t-shirt entirely crusted in dried porridge, aggressively miming the swish-swish-swish...