My golden retriever, Barnaby, sat judging me from the kitchen tile as I desperately tried to hot-glue a pair of felt dog ears onto a headband that was definitely too small for a human head. It was April 5, 2026, and I had exactly forty-eight hours to pull off the impossible: a “retro-cool” celebration for…
I stood in the middle of my living room on May 14, 2024, staring at seventeen miniature hay bales and wondering why I thought a cowboy centerpiece was something a single dad could handle on a Tuesday night. My son Leo was turning three, and I had this grand vision of an Atlanta backyard transformed…
Maya stood in the middle of our cramped Lincoln Park kitchen last March, her twin brother Leo trailing behind, and declared that she absolutely, positively needed to live in a dreamhouse for her ninth birthday. My heart sank. We live in a two-bedroom apartment where the “dream” is usually just finding a parking spot on…
Houston humidity is no joke, and neither is the smell of twenty-two second-graders after recess on a Tuesday in April. I have spent fifteen years in the trenches of elementary education, which basically means I have survived more glitter explosions than a Vegas showgirl. Last March, specifically on the 12th, I decided to tackle a…
I am a thirty-four-year-old man standing in the middle of a craft store in downtown Atlanta, entirely covered in iridescent green dust. My daughter Maya was turning four. She specifically requested a “forest fairy” theme for her big day. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. After three previous birthday disasters involving a…
Twenty-two second-graders staring at you during a rainy-day indoor recess is enough to make any sane person retire, but I am apparently a glutton for punishment because I decided to host a budget hippie party for toddler chaos at my house last March. Being a teacher in Houston means I live for a good theme…
Nineteen kindergarteners staring at me while a tropical humidity level of 94% turns our Houston classroom into a literal rainforest is exactly how my Friday started on April 4, 2025. It was our end-of-unit celebration for Pacific Island cultures, and naturally, that meant a full-blown Moana-themed bash. My student, Leo, was already vibrating with excitement,…
Toddlers are tiny, caffeinated squirrels who haven’t learned how to use a napkin yet. Last March 14, I found myself in the middle of a Houston humidity spike, trying to host a birthday for my nephew Leo, who was turning two. The backyard was a sea of green balloons, but the real stress lived on…
Teaching twenty-two second-graders in Houston means I live in a permanent state of controlled chaos, glitter in my hair, and a calendar full of classroom parties. Last April, my fellow teacher Sarah decided she wanted a “Level Up” 30th birthday bash, and I was drafted as the unofficial creative director. Finding a mario backdrop for…
I was standing in my kitchen at 2 AM on March 14, 2023, covered in spray adhesive and existential dread. My son Leo was turning five the next morning, and I had decided, in my infinite single-dad wisdom, to build a “cloud ceiling” out of five pounds of polyester stuffing and fishing line. It looked…
