Magazine
The baumwoll leggins damen obsession: Decoding my wife's closet
I'm standing in our Portland basement at 11:45 PM, staring at a laundry basket that appears to contain fourteen identical black fabric tubes. Our eleven-month-old just successfully executed a tactical diaper blowout ten minutes after falling asleep, which means I'm...
My Complete Breakdown Over The Trendy Baby Tee Crop Top Phase
It was exactly 9:43 AM on a Tuesday, and I was bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle over the damp sand at Centennial Park, frantically trying to dig what looked like a half-chewed cigarette butt out of my four-year-old Maya’s...
Ditching the Plastic Jumper for a Real Montessori Activity Space
I was sitting on my incredibly stained living room rug at 6:15 AM wearing yesterday’s maternity leggings—the ones with the hole in the left knee—clutching my third mug of desperately black coffee, while my firstborn, Leo, aggressively bounced in what...
The Great Baby Overall Winter Survival Guide for Exhausted Parents
My forehead was pressed against the freezing cold steering wheel of our Ford Focus, beads of sweat pooling in my eyebrows while both twins screamed at a pitch that I'm fairly certain cracked the rearview mirror. We hadn't even left...
Why long-sleeve terry bibs actually saved my sanity and my rug
It was 11:14 AM on a Tuesday, and I was wearing a cream-colored cashmere blend sweater. I know. Stupidity at its absolute finest. Leo was exactly six months and four days old, strapped into his high chair like a tiny,...
Why lätzchen personalisiert saved my daycare sanity
It was a Tuesday in late October, and I was staring at the neckline of my middle kid’s shirt like it was an active crime scene. The blue terry-cloth drool catcher around his neck had a faded, washed-out Sharpie mark...
The Frottee Lätzchen Era: Why Terrycloth Bibs Finally Fixed My Meal...
It was a Tuesday night, about six years ago, and my oldest was covered in what looked like a marinara-themed crime scene. I’m talking sauce in his eyebrows, sauce down his neck, and somehow, sauce inside his diaper. He was...
Why The Wrong Infant Play Mat Will Ruin Your Tuesday Afternoon
It was 2:14 PM on a particularly bleak, rain-lashed London Tuesday, and a plastic, primary-coloured toucan was aggressively singing a distorted, tinny version of ‘La Cucaracha’ while swinging precisely three inches above my daughter’s nose. I was sitting on the...
Decoding The Baby Mütze Winter: Thermal Dynamics And Myths
We were in the produce section at New Seasons when a woman holding a reusable canvas tote tapped my shoulder to inform me that my eleven-month-old daughter was going to catch meningitis because she wasn't wearing a hat. It was...