The Only Honest Guide to Venues for Baby Shower Celebrations
I'm currently sitting on the floor of my Etsy inventory room, aggressively tearing off pieces of packing tape for a massive stack of custom nursery signs, while my youngest child uses my left ankle as a teething ring. My phone...
Writing a Baby Shower Card That Doesn't Sound Completely Awkward
My mother told me a shower card must make the pregnant woman cry tears of deep joy. My buddy Dave said I should just scribble "Sleep is a lie, good luck" on a Post-it and tape a twenty-dollar bill to...
Why Thinkbaby Sunscreen Is The Only White Paste I Trust On My Kid
Sand was quite literally glued to my son's left eyeball. We were at Oak Street Beach. It was ninety degrees in Chicago, the concrete was radiating heat, and he was screaming a pitch usually reserved for the pediatric triage desk....
How to choose a baby gift without getting blocked on WhatsApp
I'm currently standing in my narrow London hallway holding a four-foot-tall plush giraffe that aggressively blares a tinny version of 'It's a Small World' whenever you look at it funny. It's Tuesday morning, my two-year-old twin girls are currently screaming...
Why The Baby Delight Bassinet Might Actually Save Your Sanity
It was 3:14 in the morning, and I was staring at a fifteen-hundred-dollar spaceship of a smart sleeper that my colicky firstborn was currently screaming bloody murder inside of. That was the exact moment I realized the biggest myth in...
The Honest Truth About Using Baby Oil Gel on Newborns
My mother-in-law told me to massage my son in warm mustard oil until he resembled a glazed donut. My favorite attending physician from the pediatric ward said to stick to dry air and benign neglect. The internet moms told me...
Midnight fridge audits and the great baby carrots recall panic
It was exactly 11:42 PM on a Tuesday when I found myself knee-deep in the bottom drawer of the fridge, clutching a flashlight between my teeth like a cat burglar who specialises exclusively in stealing root vegetables. The twins were...
Dear Past Me: A Messy Open Letter About Buying Baby Sandals
Dear Sarah from last May, You're currently sitting on the cold linoleum floor of aisle 14 at Target. You're wearing those embarrassing faded black leggings with the tiny hole near the left knee, holding a venti iced cold brew that's...
Dear Past Marcus: Please Stop Overcomplicating the Baby Registry
You're currently sweating through your vintage Timbers hoodie, keeping nineteen browser tabs open, hovering your cursor over an "Add to Cart" button for a Bluetooth-enabled diaper pail. I need you to step away from the keyboard. It's me. Future Marcus....