Twenty-two second-graders, four gallons of neon-pink frosting, and one very brave teacher who clearly forgot to drink enough coffee that morning. That was my classroom last November 14th. I have been teaching in Houston for twelve years, and if there is one thing I know, it is that a “simple” baking activity will turn into…
Twenty-two first-graders in a Houston classroom during a March humidity spike is a recipe for a very specific kind of chaos. I have spent the last decade dodging flying juice boxes and sticky fingerprints, but nothing prepared me for the “Pink Out” Friday we had on March 12, 2024. I thought I was being the…
Houston humidity does things to paper products that no teacher training manual prepares you for. Last March 12, 2024, I found myself standing in the middle of a third-grade classroom that smelled faintly of sour milk and over-applied hand sanitizer, trying to keep a Pikachu ear from wilting. It was my co-teacher Sarah’s 30th birthday….
My kitchen smelled like old tuna and damp cardboard for three days after Sam’s sixth birthday party back on October 12, 2024. That is what happens when you try to build a pirate ship out of refrigerator boxes in a Portland garage during a typical autumn downpour. Everyone wants to know how much does a…
Frozen Party Backdrops: My Grandkids Deserve a Winter Wonderland, But How?! Chloe King (the_real_chloe): Oh, my goodness, party planning is just the sweetest thing, isn’t it? My little Cole is turning four next month, and you know what that means – another Frozen party! He absolutely adores Elsa and Anna. Last year, for Emma’s 10th,…
My kitchen floor is currently covered in a fine layer of orange glitter, three different types of juice boxes, and a stray yellow hard hat that Ben, my four-year-old, insists on wearing to bed. This is my life in suburban Portland, where the rain never stops and the birthday parties are always a little bit…
Living in Austin means I spend half my life stuck in traffic on MoPac and the other half trying to find the perfect shade of “ocean blue” for my nephew Leo’s birthday. Last Saturday, March 28, 2026, was the big day. Leo turned eight, and despite my attempts to pivot him toward a cool “space…
My kitchen floor currently glitters with the remnants of twenty-four iridescent wings and enough purple frosting to coat a small sedan. If you think having twins means double the fun, try having nine eight-year-olds high on sugar and imagination descending on a Chicago bungalow during a surprise April sleet storm. Last Saturday, I faced the…
I stood in my Denver kitchen on March 12, 2024, staring at a mountain of sprinkles that had somehow migrated from the counter to the dog’s ears. My daughter Maya, who had just turned four, was leading a pack of 18 other preschoolers in a chorus of “Baby Shark” while holding a half-eaten gingerbread man….
Blue dye dripped down my forehead like some sort of radioactive sludge while I stood on a shaky step ladder last June 12th. I was trying to tape a massive “web” of red and blue paper to the ceiling for Leo’s 4th birthday, but the humidity in our Denver basement had other plans. My knees…
