Dear past Priya: the brutal reality of buying new born clothes
Dear Priya from six months ago. You're currently sitting on the floor of the nursery in our Chicago apartment, surrounded by a mountain of miniature denim jackets, tulle skirts, and button-down flannel shirts. You're feeling very proud of yourself. You...
When do you feel baby move: The messy timeline
I was exactly eighteen weeks pregnant with Maya, standing in the middle of a Target aisle wearing oversized maternity jeans that kept sliding down my hips, when my phone vibrated three times in a row. I had one hand clutching...
Why that cheer up baby dailymotion search won't fix the crying
The glow of a smartphone screen at three in the morning is uniquely depressing. My son was doing that arched-back, red-faced screaming thing. I had a bottle in one hand, a pacifier clamped in my teeth, and I was frantically...
The brutally honest guide to naming a boy
I was thirty-four weeks pregnant, sitting in the hospital cafeteria with a lukewarm grilled cheese, getting bombarded via text. My mother-in-law insisted we needed something that commanded respect in a boardroom, preferably something multi-syllabic and deeply traditional. The charge nurse...
Finding the best formula for babies: A letter to my past self
You're standing in aisle four of the Hollywood Fred Meyer, it's 2:14 AM, and the fluorescent lights are making your left eye twitch. You're holding a purple can in one hand and a gold can in the other, desperately trying...
My kid turned into a highlighter (and other early release bugs)
It was day three of parenthood, and I was holding my naked son up to a rain-streaked Portland window like Rafiki presenting Simba, convinced that forty-five seconds of overcast Pacific Northwest UV radiation would magically fix his liver. My wife,...
The Hilarious Truth About Baby Vans: Stiff Shoes & Sprinter Dreams
It was a Tuesday at precisely 10:14 AM. I was wearing leggings that definitely had dried sweet potato puree encrusted on the left thigh, clutching my third iced oat milk latte of the week. Leo was about eight months old,...
Why My Humiliating First Attempt At A Baby Sling Made Me Cry
It was exactly 4:13 AM on a Tuesday, and I was standing barefoot on the cold kitchen linoleum, sobbing quietly while trying to maneuver twenty feet of stretchy grey fabric around my torso. Maya was exactly three weeks old, screaming...
The Truth About Your Newborn's Baby Skull and Spooky X-Rays
It was 2 AM, the only light in the room was the glowing screen of my phone, and I was holding a three-day-old Tucker while panic-typing "is my newborn an alien" into a search bar. I was staring at his...