My five-year-old, Leo, stood in the middle of our Atlanta living room last October 12, 2024, wearing a colander on his head and a pair of red oven mitts. He looked me dead in the eye and whispered, “Dad, I’m the imposter.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but I knew I…
I found myself kneeling on my hardwood floor last Sunday, April 12, 2025, wielding a pair of tweezers and a shop vac while my five-year-old son, Leo, practiced his “web-slinging” on the dog. We had just finished hosting eighteen sugar-charged kindergartners for Leo’s fifth birthday bash here in Denver. My back ached. My living room…
My kitchen floor is currently a sticky, neon-pink mosaic of dried frosting and discarded craft glitter. My daughter, Leo, turned four last week, and we threw a “Trolls Band Together” extravaganza in our Denver backyard that would make Queen Poppy herself dizzy. Between the sugar rushes and the inevitable hair-tangling, I realized something important. The…
Pink glitter is permanently fused to the grout in my kitchen floor. I scrubbed it yesterday with a toothbrush. Still there. Being a mom to Leo (4), Maya (7), and Sam (11) in suburban Portland means my house is a perpetual craft disaster zone, mostly coated in a fine layer of rain, mud, and whatever…
I am a single dad in Atlanta, which means my life usually revolves around soccer practice, oil changes, and trying to remember if it is library book return day. My journey into the high-stakes world of whimsical stationery began with a complete disaster. On June 12, 2023, I attempted to host a party for my…
My six-year-old daughter, Maya, decided on June 12, 2025, that her entire existence depended on becoming a mythical sea creature. I am a dad who cares about two things: keeping my kids safe and not lighting my wallet on fire. We live in Denver, where the closest thing to an ocean is a very large…
Muddy puddles were never going to stay outside on April 12, 2025, when my daughter Maya turned four. I live in Denver, where a spring birthday means you either get a 70-degree day or six inches of slush, and last year, we got the slush. Twenty-one kids, all aged four, descended upon our living room…
My living room looked like a neon jungle exploded, and honestly, I wasn’t even mad about it. It was April 12, 2025, a Saturday that hit a blistering 92 degrees in Austin, and I was determined to give my nephew Leo the “Wild One-Zero” 10th birthday party he deserved. Being the resident “cool aunt” and…
The smell of scorched popcorn kernels and the sound of fourteen six-year-olds vibrating with sugar-induced energy is a specific kind of chaos I didn’t fully appreciate until last April. My son Leo turned six on April 12, 2025, and in my infinite “Dad wisdom,” I decided a backyard carnival was the only logical way to…
Last July 14th, the Denver sun hit 98 degrees before noon, and my backyard smelled like a strange mix of chlorine and SPF 50. I stood by the grill, flipping burgers for my son Leo’s second birthday, while eight toddlers buzzed around the edge of the plastic kiddie pool like caffeinated dragonflies. My mission was…
