I stared at a bare plastic folding table in my driveway at 7 AM. Seventeen ten-year-old boys were descending on my Atlanta home in exactly three hours. My son, Leo, was turning ten. He requested a massive, block-building gaming setup. I had a pathetic stack of thin green plastic squares in my hands that barely…
The Texas heat was already doing that thing where the air feels like soup. It was May 12th, 2025. I stood on my Austin patio staring at a pile of iridescent cardboard. My golden retriever, Barnaby, had smartly retreated under the outdoor sofa. I had exactly three hours before nineteen three-year-olds descended on my backyard…
I was scraping edible silver luster dust off my kitchen ceiling at 2 AM the night before my youngest son Sam’s second birthday party. It was October 14, 2023. My Portland kitchen smelled strongly of burnt sugar and panic. People constantly text me to ask what food to serve at a disco party, mostly because…
Twenty-six sticky hands. Thirteen spilled juice boxes. One exhausted Houston teacher. That is my reality. I am Ms. Karen. I teach pre-K and I throw at least six classroom parties every single year. Last spring, I decided my wild bunch of three-year-olds needed a civilized event. I wanted a fancy spring celebration. I started searching…
I teach twenty-two loud, sticky, wildly unpredictable five-year-olds at a public elementary school in Houston. I throw at least six classroom parties a year. Valentine’s Day. Halloween. The 100th Day of School. You name the holiday, and I have panic-bought generic mini cupcakes for it. I am a professional at crowd control. I can silence…
Twenty-two second graders. That is my daily reality as a public school teacher here in Houston, Texas. I survive on lukewarm coffee in a dented Yeti cup. I laminate absolutely everything I can get my hands on. Because I throw at least six classroom parties every single academic year—Valentine’s Day, winter break, the hundredth day…
My dining room table currently looks like a bright yellow explosion of caution tape, chocolate crumbs, and crushed graham crackers. Last week, staring at a deeply chaotic spreadsheet at 11:42 PM, I frantically typed exactly how many treat bags do I need for a construction party into my phone while my four-year-old, Leo, slept peacefully…
October 14, 2023, is a day permanently burned into my retinas. The temperature in Austin was a blistering 92 degrees. My golden retriever, Buster, was panting heavily on the kitchen tile. Outside, twenty-two screaming seven-year-olds were about to descend upon my backyard for my nephew Leo’s birthday. I stood paralyzed over my dining room island….
My golden retriever, Barnaby, was absolutely covered in blue papier-mâché dust. It was March 15, 2024, and my living room in South Austin looked like a craft store exploded. My best friend’s son, Leo, was turning eight. He requested exactly one thing for his backyard bash: a massive, candy-stuffed sonic pinata. I thought grabbing one…
Marcus turned 8 on April 4th last year. The original Minecraft Movie release date was floating around as “Spring 2025” and I didn’t think anything of it. Then the trailer dropped and I realized: the movie opens on my kid’s birthday. My first thought was to get tickets. Eleven eight-year-olds in a theater at noon….
