The 3 AM Reality of Raising a Baby Chick With a Toddler
It's three in the morning on a Tuesday. I'm standing over my bathroom sink with a warm, damp paper towel, delicately wiping dried feces off the backside of a baby chick. My husband is asleep. My toddler is asleep. I'm...
Why Every Baby Math Formula Is Basically Lying To You
It was 3:14 AM, and I was sitting on the nursery floor wearing my husband Markβs oversized gray college sweatpantsβthe ones with the mystery bleach stain on the kneeβaggressively typing numbers into my glowing phone screen while my coffee from...
How to Debug the Exact Baby Blue Color Code for Your Nursery
Three different people gave me completely conflicting advice while I was standing in an empty room holding a dry paint roller. My mother-in-law called to insist I needed to find something she referred to as "stork blue" because it supposedly...
Dear Past Sarah: The Local Kids Store Is A Complete Trap
It's Tuesday, 10:45 AM, and you're currently sweating through your favorite grey Madewell tee while standing in the middle of that aggressively aesthetic boutique downtown. Your four-year-old, Leo, is lying starfish-style on the polished concrete floor, screaming something that sounds...
The Tactical, Data-Driven Reality of Buying Baby Girl Clothing
My daughter's left foot is currently wedged somewhere inside the armhole of a tulle skirt that somehow features six different layers of synthetic mesh, and she's screaming at me like I just tried to permanently delete her favorite stuffed animal....
Surviving the baby markt: what I bought versus what actually works
The screen brightness is turned all the way down to a sliver, but it still burns my retinas. It's 3:14 in the morning. I'm trapped under a sleeping ten-pound dictator who will wake up if I shift my left leg...
The Great Baby Spielzeug Overload: Surviving the Toy Avalanche
It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, and I was performing what I thought was a routine diaper exchange protocol in the dark when my left heel made contact with a singing plastic farm animal. I don't know what kind...
Did Rihanna Have Her Baby? A Dad's Take on Celebrity Parenting
It was 2:14 AM, the Portland rain was actively trying to breach my window seals, and my eleven-month-old was staring at the ceiling fan like it held the secrets to the universe. We were deep in the middle of some...
A letter to my pregnant self about newborn clutter and tiny things
I'm writing this to you from the floor of the nursery. It's 2 a.m. in Chicago, the radiator is hissing, and I'm staring at a pile of miniature laundry that somehow multiplies when I blink. You're probably six months pregnant...