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How Baby Sign Language Finally Stopped the Dinner Time Screaming
I was standing in my kitchen staring at sweet potato puree dripping from the ceiling fan, holding a stack of shipping labels for my Etsy shop, while my ten-month-old son arched his back so hard I thought he might actually...
Why Rescuing That Adorable Coastal Baby Seal Is A Terrible Idea
We were twenty minutes into what was supposed to be a restorative family morning on a Cornish shingle beach, locked in a desperate battle with a pop-up windbreak that refused to pop anywhere but directly into my face, when Twin...
The Baby Registry Amazon Myth That Totally Ruined My Saturday
I was wearing Dave's oversized college sweatpantsβthe ones with the bleach stain on the left knee that he absolutely refuses to throw awayβsitting on our living room rug with my third cup of lukewarm, frankly terrible coffee, just sobbing at...
Debugging Infant Water Safety and the Sea Otter Parenting Method
I'm currently losing a wrestling match with a wet, angry noodle on a bench that smells aggressively of bleach. My eleven-month-old son has somehow managed to triple his body weight purely through the physics of being slippery, and the acoustic...
Ready For Baby One More Time? A Dad's Glitchy Guide
It was 3:14 AM. The air was thick with the smell of organic sweet potato puree and sheer desperation. Our 11-month-old, Leo, had just executed a flawless system override by projectile vomiting directly into my left slipper. I was standing...
Debugging the Ultimate Spreadsheet of Baby Names for Girls - Dad Log
Dear Marcus from six months ago, You're currently sitting at your desk at 2 AM. Your daughter is five months old, sleeping for a miraculous forty-two-minute stretch, and your brain is finally quiet. Then your buddy Dave texts you. He...
The Midnight Google Search for Baby Metal That Broke My Brain
It was roughly 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, a time of night when the human brain is largely just a puddle of lukewarm porridge, and I was pinned beneath Maya, the heavier of the twins, who had recently decided that...
Reclaiming The Title Of Baby Mama And Surviving Year One
My wife is asleep next to me, emitting a low, rhythmic wheeze that means sheβs currently in deep REM, and I'm sitting in the dark, furiously scrolling through a Wikipedia rabbit hole about billionaires. I literally caught myself googling how...
Dear Past Tom: The Expensive, Absurd Reality of Baby Jordans
Dear Tom of six months ago, You're currently sweating through your grey t-shirt, pinning Florence between your knees while attempting to force her inexplicably square, fleshy foot into a miniature, stiff leather basketball shoe. She's screaming as if you've suggested...