My kitchen smelled like wet dog and cheap pepperoni last Saturday because I decided, in a moment of sheer madness, that 17 seven-year-olds in my living room was a great idea for Leo’s birthday. It was loud. The sound of seventeen boys screeching about “Robux” and “Noobs” echoed through my thin suburban walls while I…
My living room smelled like a mixture of generic brand pizza and damp sneakers on the afternoon of March 14, 2025. It was my son Leo’s tenth birthday, and ten rowdy boys were currently vibrating with the kind of energy only sugar and pixels can provide. As a single dad living in a cramped apartment…
My nephew Jaxson turned ten on October 12, 2025, and I decided to throw him the kind of carnival bash that would make P.T. Barnum himself weep with envy. Austin was hitting that perfect ninety-degree “fall” weather, and I had exactly ninety-one dollars left in my “Aunt of the Year” fund to make it happen…
Standing in my kitchen on a drizzly Tuesday last March, I realized I’d made a massive tactical error. My daughter Maya, who was turning seven, had just informed me that her entire social standing depended on the specific shade of indigo in her rainbow birthday invitation. In my house, we take birthdays seriously, but we…
I’m standing in my kitchen in Kirkwood, Atlanta, covered in blue frosting and questioning every life choice that led me to owning a life-sized cardboard cutout of a cartoon shark. Last March, my daughter Maya turned seven, and despite my prayers that she’d move on to Minecraft or literally anything else, she demanded a Baby…
My daughter Maya turned twelve on March 12, 2025, and I realized I was completely out of my league. Being a single dad in Atlanta means I usually excel at two things: finding the best wings in the city and failing miserably at Pinterest-perfect birthdays. Last year, I tried a “nature hike” theme that ended…
@sophia_ferr: Hey everyone, San Francisco foster mom here, currently planning what feels like my millionth kids’ party in as many months! We’re doing a princess theme for Ellie’s 7th birthday – think tiaras, glitter (send help for the cleanup!), and lots of pink. My husband Leo usually handles the food, but I’m on supplies duty…
My backyard in Jefferson Park looked like a blue explosion had occurred at a paint factory. It was June 14, 2025, and my twins, Leo and Maya, were turning eight. I had exactly sixty dollars in my pocket and a list of thirteen hyperactive kids arriving in two hours. Living in Chicago means you never…
My living room looked like a recycling center exploded. On June 12, 2025, I stood amidst a mountain of Amazon boxes, half-empty cans of silver spray paint, and enough duct tape to repair a bridge. My son Leo was turning five, and in my infinite wisdom as a single dad in Atlanta trying to outdo…
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