Magazine
Apocalyptic Parenting: Surviving the Tuesday Dystopia
The biggest lie they peddle in those damp, aggressively brightly lit NHS antenatal classes is that the primary threat to your childβs existence is external. The cheerful woman with the laminated diagrams heavily implies that your main job as a...
The truth about heirloom infant jewelry and unexpected search histo...
The clasp on the 22-karat gold chain was so tiny it took three aunties and a pair of tweezers to fasten it around my six-month-old's neck. We were at a family gathering, the air thick with the smell of roasting...
Surviving the British Guard Beannie Baby Phase
Sweat was actively pooling in the crevice of Florenceβs third chin. It was Boxing Day, the central heating was aggressively set to what I can only describe as 'Florida retirement home,' and my mother-in-law had just wedged both twins into...
Dear Past Jess: The Messy Truth About Board Books for Babies
Dear Jess from six months ago. You're currently sitting on the peeling linoleum of the kitchen floor, surrounded by three baskets of unfolded laundry, staring at your youngest child. You just had to stick your index finger into his mouth...
Balcones Baby Blue 750ml: What Parents Actually Need to Know
My husband walked into the kitchen when Maya was exactly three weeks old, holding a heavy brown paper bag by the neck. He had this proud, exhausted smile on his face, the kind you only see on new fathers who...
Surviving the three am panic over mysterious newborn baby lesions
I was staring at a tiny, raised red bump on my son's cheek at two in the morning, convinced I had somehow broken him. He was fourteen days old. The nursery smelled heavily of sour milk, zinc oxide, and absolute...
The Messy Truth About First Words (And Why I Stopped Panicking)
I was wearing those awful grey maternity leggings that I refused to throw away, smelling faintly of sour milk, sitting on a beige rug that's now permanently stained with something I refuse to identify. Leo was fourteen months old, pointing...
A Letter to Myself About That Ridiculous Digital Baby Tiger
Dear Jess from six months ago, I know you're currently standing at the kitchen island, elbow-deep in raw chicken while the baby aggressively throws cheerios at the dog, but I need you to drop the tongs and walk into the...
Unpacking the Baby Three V3 Toy Trend and Having a Third Kid
It was Sunday morning and I was standing in my kitchen wearing the exact same cranberry-colored yoga pants I had slept in, desperately waiting for the coffee machine to stop dripping, when my sister-in-law walked in and handed my seven-year-old,...