Hush Little Baby: A Letter to Exhausted Me About 3 AM Survival
Dear Jess from six months ago, You're currently standing in the hallway at 3:14 AM wearing a nursing bra that smells suspiciously like sour milk. You're bouncing rhythmically, staring at a chip in the baseboard, and desperately whispering the hush...
My Messy Journey With the Tula Carrier (And Why I Kept It)
It was a hundred and two degrees in July, right in the middle of a rural Texas Target parking lot, and my arms were bent backward like a stale pretzel. I was leaning heavily against the side of my minivan,...
What I Learned Debugging Life With Baby Pigs
I'm currently sitting on the kitchen linoleum at 3:14 AM with a laser thermometer in one hand and a syringe of milk replacer in the other. My 11-month-old daughter is finally asleep upstairs after a brutal teething episode, and I'm...
Watching my kid fall off the playground cured my helicopter anxiety
The wind coming off Lake Michigan was aggressive enough to make my eyes water, but I couldn't blink. My two-year-old was fifteen feet up a rope climbing pyramid at Maggie Daley Park. His left foot was wedged between two cables....
The Theater Beta Test: Bringing an 11-Month-Old to the Movies
I was standing under the dripping marquee of the Hollywood Theatre here in Portland, staring at the decibel meter app on my Apple Watch while my 11-month-old daughter Maya actively tried to chew off the zipper of my rain jacket....
A Letter To Past Tom About Hanging Baby Mobiles
Dear Tom of six months ago. You're currently standing in your socks on a wobbly Ikea step stool at 2:13 AM. You have a plastic, battery-guzzling, brightly coloured spaceship contraption in one hand and a tiny screwdriver clamped between your...
Dear Jess: Surviving the Baby in Yellow Phase (And Other Shocks)
Dear Jess from six months ago, You're currently sitting on the peeling linoleum of the downstairs bathroom at 3 AM, holding your three-day-old up to the harsh vanity lights, trying to figure out if you're sleep-deprived and hallucinating or if...
The real baby driver 2: A letter to my past self about car seat panic
Dear Marcus from six months ago, You're currently idling in the driveway of the Hawthorne Fred Meyer in your Subaru. The engine is running. The heater is set exactly to 70 degrees because you read somewhere that anything else will...
Surviving the baby dragon phase and other midnight disasters
Itβs 4:12 AM in our London flat, and Florence is standing upright in her cot, gripping the wooden bars like a tiny, furious inmate, screaming for a mythical reptile. Matilda, her twin, is entirely asleep but sporadically kicking the plaster...