My daughter Maya hit fourteen last November, and I figured we were finally done with the glitter phase of fatherhood. I was wrong. Dead wrong. She walked into the kitchen in our Atlanta house, looked me straight in the eye, and told me she wanted a “nostalgic unicorn aesthetic” party. I thought she was joking,…
I was standing on a shaky kitchen chair in my Midtown Atlanta apartment, sweating through my favorite Braves shirt, while forty feet of pink crepe paper wrapped around my neck like a very festive boa constrictor. It was June 12, 2022, and my daughter Maya was turning four. I had this grand vision of a…
My living room in Atlanta usually smells like damp cleats and disappointment, mostly because I’m a Falcons fan, but last February, it smelled like cedar wood and expensive buffalo sauce. I’ve spent the better part of seven years flying solo as a dad, which means I’ve graduated from the “throw a bag of chips on…
I stood in the middle of my basement last November 14, clutching a clipboard and staring at twelve energetic kids who were vibrating with the kind of intensity only pre-teen sugar rushes can produce. My son, Leo, was celebrating his transition toward his big twelve-year-old year, and I had promised him a cinematic experience that…
Twenty-two sweaty six-year-olds in a portable classroom during a Houston September is a highly specific kind of chaos. Throw a “Prehistoric Pals” birthday celebration into the mix, and you are basically begging for a migraine. I teach first grade. I throw at least six of these massive, sugar-fueled classroom shindigs every single academic year. I…
Cooper, my seventy-five-pound Goldendoodle, was currently wearing a pink tutu because my niece Lily decided her twelfth birthday needed to be “aggressively Peppa Pig” themed. We were three hours into the planning phase at my kitchen island in South Austin, surrounded by iced lattes and a growing pile of glitter. Most people think a twelve-year-old…
My living room looked like a glittery butterfly explosion had occurred on the morning of October 12, 2025. It was my daughter Maya’s 7th birthday, and I had spent three hours the night before trying to find the exact right shade of purple for the table settings. My oldest, Leo, who is 11 and suddenly…
Hey GINYOU fam! It’s Mei, here from Albuquerque. Military spouse life means we move every five years, and every move seems to mean more kids wanting bigger and better things, haha! This Easter, I’m trying to be a real frugal genius, but I’m staring down the barrel of seven Easter baskets: Isla (1), Nora (3),…
I never thought I’d be the mom scrubbing potting soil out of a beige rug at 11 PM on a Tuesday, but here we are. My youngest, Leo, just turned one, and because I’m apparently a glutton for punishment, I decided on a “One Let’s Grow” theme. If you are scratching your head about how…
Twenty-two toddlers in a two-bedroom Chicago bungalow sounds like the start of a horror movie, but for me, it was just Tuesday. Actually, it was April 14th, the day my twins, Leo and Maya, turned two. I had exactly thirty-five dollars in my bank account designated for this party, and a living room that smelled…
