The Late Night Triage Guide for When Your Baby Won't Stop Crying
The radiator in our Chicago apartment was hissing that metallic, rhythmic sound it only makes in mid-February. My son was exactly six weeks old and screaming so hard his face was the color of a bruised eggplant. I spent six...
The Truth About Cradles and That Scalp Crust Nobody Mentions
The smell of lemon wood polish hit me the second I walked into our Chicago apartment with a three-day-old infant in my arms. Sitting right in the middle of our cramped living room was a massive, dark wood antique baby...
How I Survived the Relentless Baby Crying Sound With Twin Girls
It was a Tuesday in mid-November, roughly 5:14 PM, when the air pressure in our London flat simply ceased to exist. I was holding a half-empty bottle of formula in one hand and a rogue, suspiciously damp sock in the...
The Real Baby Blue Background Nobody Warned Me About
Iβm standing in bedroom three with a roller brush dripping Sherwin-Williams "Serene Sky" onto my favorite sneakers, feeling incredibly smug. I was building the ultimate calming environment. I honestly thought that establishing a literal baby blue background on the walls...
The Great Baby Audio Lie We All Fell For (And What Works)
It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday in November, and I was standing perfectly still in the dead center of Mayaβs nursery wearing a pair of maternity fleece pants that had a massive hole in the left thigh, terrified to...
The Absolute Truth About Baby Alpaca (And Why My Kids Wear It)
I can still smell the sour milk and panic. It was February 2018, and I was standing in the middle of a crowded Brooklyn coffee shop, sweating through my own coat while frantically trying to unzip my four-month-old son from...
Surviving the Fourth Trimester: When Your Newborn Owns You
I was wearing a nursing bra that smelled aggressively of sour milk and my husband Daveβs old college sweatpants with a mysterious crusty patch on the knee, standing in the kitchen at 3:17 AM swaying like a seasick sailor. Maya...
Why We Blasted Baby Pluto To Survive The Fourth Trimester
Itβs 3:17 AM on a Tuesday in November. Iβm sitting in the driverβs seat of my husband Daveβs Honda Civic, parked securely in our own driveway with the engine idling. Iβm wearing a gray fleece bathrobe that smells aggressively like...
A Letter To Myself About Surviving The Evening Scream Fest
I found this note sitting in my drafts folder from exactly six months ago. My mate Dave had just texted me from the pub (a man who currently thinks 'tired' means getting eight hours of sleep but waking up once...