Magazine

It was 3:14 AM. The blue glow of my phone was illuminating Twin A's aggressively gripping fist, which was currently tangled in my collarbone. I was scrolling blindly with my free thumb, desperate to keep my brain awake while the...

My mother-in-law was dead serious when she handed me my beard trimmer. We were sitting in the living room, staring at the side of my 11-month-old's head, which currently looked like a poorly maintained lawn. He had thick patches on...

I was sitting on the floor of our living room, sweating through my t-shirt, trying to peel a heavy-duty waterproof band-aid off my eleven-month-old's thigh without triggering a level-five meltdown. He had scraped his leg on a rogue piece of...

You're standing in aisle fourteen of the Belmont Target right now. Your toddler is actively trying to consume a cardboard price tag she peeled off the shelf. You're holding a familiar pink bottle of mineral oil because you thought it...

Before the twins arrived, my mother-in-law handed me a beautifully wrapped, eco-friendly grooming kit containing a wildly soft bristle brush and a tiny wooden toothed implement. I looked at the ultrasound pictures stuck to my fridge—two indistinct blurry blobs that...