My living room in Austin looked like a literal bomb had gone off in a blue paint factory last March. It was chaotic. Nineteen five-year-olds were sprinting through my backyard in the Mueller neighborhood, screaming about “Magic Asparagus” while I tried to prevent my golden retriever from eating a fallen hunk of blue-frosted sponge cake….
The living room smelled like spilled apple juice and pure desperation on the morning of March 12, 2024. My twins, Leo and Maya, were turning three, and I had exactly $99 left in my “don’t go broke” party fund to entertain 17 toddlers and their exhausted parents. Chicago winters are brutal, so we were stuck…
My living room floor was a disaster zone of yellow glitter and half-eaten Krabby Patty gummies last Saturday afternoon. Sophie, my seven-year-old, decided that her “Under the Sea” birthday needed to be 100% Bikini Bottom or nothing at all. I found myself frantically searching for the best party favors for spongebob party at 2 AM…
Leo looked at me with those giant three-year-old eyes on the morning of August 12, 2025, and I knew I was in trouble. He didn’t want a cake. He didn’t care about the bouncy house I had spent four hours inflating in our backyard in Denver. All he wanted was to be the “real king”…
My kitchen floor still has a faint orange stain from the time I tried to DIY “Tiger-tastic” punch for Leo’s second birthday back in May 2023. I remember standing in the middle of the Dollar Tree on 82nd Ave here in Portland, clutching a crumpled list while my four-year-old, Henry, tried to climb the display…
My living room floor looked like a stadium exploded after a championship win, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It was April 12, 2024, and my twins, Leo and Sam, were turning twelve. Eighteen boys crammed into a Logan Square apartment is a recipe for chaos, but with a strict $72 budget,…
I stood in my kitchen on October 12, 2024, staring at a puddle of blue Gatorade that looked suspiciously like a Squirtle had met a tragic end on my hardwood floors. My son Leo was turning two. I had nine toddlers screaming in the backyard, and my living room looked like a category five hurricane…
Twenty-two kindergarteners sounds like a manageable number until you realize they are all pretending to be rabid cheetahs in a humid Houston classroom. The air conditioner was struggling on March 12th, and my “Roar and Explore” party was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Leo, a sweet boy who usually loses nothing, managed to…
My backyard looked like a crime scene involving glitter and juice boxes. Last April, on a Tuesday that felt eighty degrees too hot for Central Texas, I hosted twenty-two eight-year-olds for my niece Maya’s birthday. We did a full-blown outdoor adventure. I searched high and low for the perfect scavenger hunt tableware for kids because…
My living room currently looks like a glitter bomb went off in a tulle factory, and honestly, I’m only about 40% sure I’ll ever see my hardwood floors again. It’s Tuesday afternoon here in suburban Portland, the rain is drumming against the windows like it always does in April, and I’m surrounded by tiny organza…
