Dear Past Me: The Truth About Parenting Lifelines and Sanity
Dear Sarah from exactly six months ago. Youβre sitting on the sticky linoleum floor in the kitchen right next to the dog's water bowl. You're wearing Daveβs oversized gray hoodie that smells faintly of old garlic and you're mainlining your...
Is There Actually an Accurate Baby Gender Predictor Out There
At fourteen weeks pregnant, I went to a family dinner, stopped for coffee the next morning, and saw my obstetrician that afternoon. My mother-in-law took one look at my chin breakouts and declared I was carrying a girl who was...
Finding Safe Baby Ear Piercing Near Me: A Dadβs Honest Review
Hey Marcus from six months ago. You're currently sitting in the dark, bathed in the blue light of your phone at 2:14 AM while Maya sleeps on your chest, casually typing baby ear piercing near me into Google Maps like...
The Midnight Terror of Silent Reflux (And How We Survived It)
"It's the fenugreek in your dal," my mother-in-law announced via a grainy WhatsApp video call. "Prop his crib mattress on two thick telephone books," a random mother in my neighborhood Facebook group swore. "He just needs to latch longer to...
What nobody tells you about babies and the great sugar debate
I was standing in my kitchen last Thanksgiving, elbow-deep in a massive pot of mashed potatoes, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom unwrapping a little caramel log. She was aiming it right at my...
Searching For The Wham Lil Baby Trend Broke My Pediatric Brain
I was sitting on a freezing bench at Oz Park when I overheard two teenagers walking by. One of them muttered something about giving their lil baby weed, and then the other brought up the wham lil baby protocol. My...
The brutally honest truth about when your baby can drink water
We were sitting on my back patio in Chicago, the humidity hovering somewhere around ninety percent, when my mother-in-law casually pulled a tiny stainless steel cup from her purse. She filled it with tap water from the kitchen and moved...
That 3am cough, the sticky spoon, and the great honey panic
It was 3:14 in the morning, rain was battering the living room windows of our London flat, and Twin A was barking like a chain-smoking seal. Twin B, not to be outdone by her sister's theatrics, had started a sort...
How I Survived the Absolute Chaos of Infant Blowouts and Runny Poop
I'm standing in the cramped, overly bright bathroom of a Buc-ee's somewhere off I-35, staring at my oldest son who's currently painted from waist to shoulder blades in what looks like radioactive mustard. He's screaming his lungs out. I'm actively...