Leo turned twelve on June 14, 2025, and my basement still smells like wet cardstock and cherry-flavored sugar. Living in Denver means you have to plan for the “Mile High” factor, mostly because the thin air makes kids run out of breath faster, but also because a sudden afternoon thunderstorm can turn your backyard BBQ…
My kitchen table currently looks like a supernova exploded in a glitter factory, and honestly, I am not even mad about it. My sister-in-law, Sarah, turned thirty last Saturday, and I volunteered to host her “Galactic Disco” bash here in Portland. Between managing Maya’s middle school drama, Toby’s soccer practice, and Leo’s obsession with “space…
My ears are still ringing from the sheer volume of eight second-graders screaming about Bruno. On April 15th, I hosted a magical Colombian-themed fiesta for my niece Sofia’s eighth birthday. I was entirely in charge of the music and activities. Finding the best noise makers for encanto party celebrations sounded incredibly easy. It wasn’t. I…
Sophie’s ninth birthday arrived on a biting Saturday morning in Denver this past March 14th, and if you think a kid outgrows the Heeler family by the time they hit third grade, you haven’t met my daughter. She didn’t just want a party; she wanted an immersive experience where every guest felt like they stepped…
@the_real_sadie Race Car Cake Topper Dilemma! Okay, party people, help a mama out! My little Leo is turning 5 soon, and all he talks about is a race car party. I’m thinking a cool two-tier cake, you know, one of those ones that look like a racetrack? Arjun, my 10-year-old, is even getting into the…
My living room floor was basically a graveyard of half-eaten cupcakes and shredded wrapping paper after Sophie’s 7th birthday last October, but the one thing the kids didn’t leave behind were the tiny rescue packs I’d obsessed over while trying to find the perfect paw patrol party favor ideas on a shoestring budget. Living in…
March 14th was a Saturday I will never forget. My daughter Sophie turned twelve, and in our Denver household, twelve is the final frontier before the teenage years hit like a mountain blizzard. Eighteen kids were coming over. Eighteen. That is a lot of energy, a lot of pizza, and a desperate need for the…
My living room in Beaverton looked like a prehistoric crime scene last April when my middle kid, Leo, turned eight. We had seventeen boys charging through the house, and let me tell you, seventeen eight-year-olds with foam tails strapped to their waists are a literal force of nature. I thought I could DIY the headwear,…
Last Saturday morning, I found myself standing in the middle of a Target aisle in south Denver, staring at a wall of pink glitter and feeling completely out of my element. My daughter, Maya, was hitting that weird bridge between “I want to be a magical royal” and “I’m way too cool for fairy tales,”…
Barnaby, my 80-pound golden retriever, spent most of August 12th trying to eat the decorative seagrass I’d painstakingly arranged on our dining room table in north Austin. It was 102 degrees outside. The humidity made my hair look like a discarded bird’s nest. I was three hours away from hosting eleven four-year-olds for my daughter…
