Twenty-two kindergartners high on red frosting and the sheer adrenaline of a Friday afternoon is a specific kind of Houston humidity-induced madness. I stood there, clutching a clipboard like a shield, watching Tyler try to put a traffic cone on his head while the rest of the “Pit Crew” buzzed around the snack table. Last…
My kitchen smelled like burnt cornmeal and desperation at 6:00 AM on May 12, 2025. I was standing there in my mismatched pajamas, staring at a stack of failed arepas while my five-year-old twins, Leo and Maya, chased our terrier, Pickles, through the living room. We were four hours away from hosting nineteen energetic kindergartners…
My nephew Leo turned eleven on April 12, 2024, and he decided his entire personality was now Optimus Prime. Living in Austin, I usually lean toward high-aesthetic, minimalist gatherings with fancy charcuterie, but an 11-year-old boy does not care about goat cheese or eucalyptus branches. He wanted robots. He wanted metal. He wanted “Energon.” I…
My living room smelled like damp carpet and sugar-free apple juice by 10 AM on a Tuesday. It was Leo’s second birthday—he’s four now, but I still have the faint ghosts of strawberry frosting on the floor to prove it—and I was currently wrestling with a peppa pig tablecloth that refused to stay flat. Portland…
My kitchen floor was a literal sea of shredded orange tissue paper and stray googly eyes last Tuesday afternoon while I tried to prep for Sam’s 9th birthday bash. Portland rain was drumming against the window—shocker, I know—and I was three cups of coffee deep into a DIY project that was rapidly spiraling out of…
The humidity in Austin last Saturday was thick enough to chew on, but that didn’t stop ten frantic seven-year-olds from scouring my backyard for clues. My dog, Barnaby, was wearing a trench coat. He looked miserable, yet somehow professional. We weren’t just hosting another backyard hang; we were deep into the “Case of the Missing…
Austin sun is no joke, especially when you are trying to wrangle sixteen toddlers in Zilker Park while keeping a tray of vegan cupcakes from melting into a puddle of pink goo. Last month, March 14, 2026, to be exact, I found myself in this exact predicament for my niece Mia’s third birthday. I am…
My kitchen looked like a neon butterfly massacre on the morning of March 14, 2025. Purple glitter clung to the grout like it had been there since the Great Chicago Fire, and I had exactly three hours before the twins, Maya and Leo, turned twelve. Most parents in our Lincoln Park neighborhood spend more on…
The “doo doo doo” rhythm still haunts my dreams, but seeing my godson Leo’s face light up during his 6th birthday bash in Austin last July made every single decibel worth it. We were standing in a backyard in Mueller, the Texas sun hitting 102 degrees, and seventeen six-year-olds were about to lose their minds…
Asher’s Construction Party Dream – How Early Do I Really Need to Start Digging? @marcusdoescrafts: Okay, fellow party pros, I’m already in a bit of a panic spiral thinking about Asher’s next birthday. He just turned 6, and all he can talk about is a construction party. I mean, diggers, dump trucks, hard hats –…
