Twenty-two second graders in a humid Houston classroom on a Friday afternoon are essentially a pack of caffeinated squirrels. I have spent fifteen years in the trenches of the Houston Independent School District, and if there is one thing I know, it is that a party theme can either be your salvation or your swift…
My kitchen floor was a disaster zone of sticky apple juice and neon green frosting when the realization hit me like a Chicago blizzard. We had survived the “Cocomelon Chaos” of my twins’ sixth birthday on March 12, 2024, but I had completely blanked on the appreciation part. Maya and Leo were still buzzing from…
I spent three hours on my knees in my Atlanta living room last October scraping blue frosting off the hardwood because I thought a Pokémon-themed “Gym Leader” coronation for a bunch of toddlers was a good idea. My son Leo was turning three on October 12, 2024, and I was determined to be the cool…
My living room still smells like pepperoni and sugar-free fruit punch, a lingering scent-memory of the Saturday afternoon I decided to host a budget pj masks party for 6 year old kids without losing my mind or my retirement savings. My son, Leo, turned six on February 12, 2026, and his only request was to…
My living room looked like a silk-screened crime scene on the morning of May 12, 2025. I was sitting on the hardwood floor of our small house in the Cabbagetown neighborhood of Atlanta, surrounded by enough glitter to choke a vacuum cleaner. My daughter, Lily, was turning seven, and she had decided six months prior…
My living room looked like a red Muppet exploded. It was April 2, 2025, and I was sitting on my scuffed hardwood floor in Beaverton, surrounded by three different shades of red cardstock and a lukewarm oat milk latte that I’d forgotten about two hours ago when the glue gun started smoking. Leo, my oldest,…
Rainey Street was already buzzing with the Saturday brunch crowd when I realized my biggest mistake: I had sixteen grown women coming over for a “Tutus and Tequila” 30th birthday bash and exactly zero headwear that didn’t look like it belonged in a preschool cubby. I spent three hours scouring local boutiques in downtown Austin,…
Twenty-two third-graders in a Houston classroom during a thunderstorm is a recipe for a migraine, especially when you are trying to celebrate a birthday without losing your sanity. My classroom floor usually looks like a glitter bomb went off by 2:00 PM on a Friday. Last February 12, 2024, I decided to lean into the…
My son Leo turned nine last April, and I decided, in a moment of sheer parenting bravado, to host the “Leo’s Grand Prix” at our local park here in Atlanta. It was eighty-five degrees, humid enough to melt a popsicle in three seconds, and I had thirteen boys vibrating with enough sugar-induced energy to power…
Zilker Park on a Saturday in March is basically a gladiatorial arena for parents, and there I was, knee-deep in red tissue paper and tiny plastic spiders. My nephew Leo was turning six on March 14, 2026, and his only request was “webs and red stuff.” Since I’m the designated “cool aunt” with a borderline…
