Magazine

At exactly 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, I found myself holding Twin A directly under the hallway spotlight, trying to determine if her irises were the colour of the ocean or just the murky grey of the Thames at low...

Don't, under any circumstances, ask your postpartum wife if she's crying because the Wi-Fi dropped while she's reading in the dark. I learned this at exactly 3:14 AM last Tuesday. The eerie blue glow of her Kindle was illuminating the...

The blue light from my cracked iPhone screen was violently illuminating the dried spit-up on my shoulder, and the microwave clock in the kitchen read exactly 3:14 AM. I was pinned under an eighteen-pound milk-drunk four-month-old, my legs were entirely...

It was 3:14 AM, the glow of my second monitor was illuminating the living room wall, and I was holding a cylindrical tube of incredibly tight, moisture-wicking spandex next to my 11-month-old’s chubby left forearm. He was gnawing on a...

The microwave clock in our kitchen glared a neon 3:14 AM, and my husband, bless his sweet but entirely useless heart in that specific moment, decided the absolute best way to get our screaming firstborn to sleep was by blasting...