Magazine

I spent the first three months of my twin daughters’ lives doing exactly what you shouldn’t do: I bought a terrifyingly cheap, unbranded camera off the internet that broadcasted grainy, unencrypted footage of my children directly to, presumably, a server...

It's three in the morning and I'm digitally zooming in on a pixelated chest, holding my own breath to see if my son is taking his. I spent five years on the pediatric floor at a Chicago hospital, managing central...

We were somewhere around mile marker 240 on Interstate 35, completely surrounded by pitch-black Texas cattle country, when the panic hit me. Jackson was three months old, my first baby, and he had been screaming for forty-five minutes straight before...

My husband was standing in the hallway in his underwear at two in the morning, aggressively poking the back of our internet router with a bent paperclip while swearing under his breath. I was sitting on the floor of the...

We're exactly 42 minutes into what the internet brutally refers to as the nine-month sleep regression, and my son's night vision monitor feed looks less like a peaceful nursery and more like found footage from a Roswell crash site. His...

It was two in the morning and I was staring at a buffering wheel on my phone screen while my router blinked an angry red in the hallway. My expensive, top-of-the-line smart camera was attempting a firmware update right as...