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When I was pregnant with Maya, I was sitting on my living room floor in those terrible maternity leggings—you know the ones, the ones that pill between your thighs after literally three hours of wear—when I received three distinct, entirely...

"Just put on that little animated kid, it's basically a mute button for crying," my lead engineer told me over Slack while I bounced a screaming infant on my knee. "If he looks at a screen before he's two, his...

It's currently 2:14 PM on a Tuesday, I've exactly three minutes to move laundry from the washer to the dryer before my youngest wakes up from her nap, and my oldest is somewhere in the living room pressing a button...

The radiator in our Chicago apartment was making that rhythmic clicking sound it only makes at three in the morning. My toddler was executing a flawless, rigid back-arch scream, the kind that usually shows either a dropped pacifier or a...

It's 3:14 AM, and my eleven-month-old is currently trying to shove a completely intact, unpeeled banana into his left ear while maintaining unblinking, terrifying eye contact with me. I'm wearing sweatpants I haven't washed since Tuesday and a Mandalorian t-shirt...

I was standing ankle-deep in fiberglass insulation in my parents' attic last Thanksgiving, holding a massive, dust-caked Rubbermaid tub. Inside was what my 1998 brain calculated to be roughly $40,000 worth of brightly colored plush toys. I actually looked at...