The sound of nineteen twelve-year-olds screaming at a single popcorn machine is something I still hear in my dreams, especially since it echoed off my living room walls here in Logan Square. It was April 12, 2025, the day my twins, Leo and Maya, turned twelve. I had exactly sixty dollars in my pocket for…
The living room smelled like wet flour and desperate ambition on April 12, 2024. My twins, Leo and Sam, were turning three, and their only demand was a “red fast car” party that I had exactly $50 to pull off. In our cramped Chicago apartment, space is tight but my stubbornness is infinite. I looked…
Austin in April is usually a literal dream, but last year on April 12th, the humidity decided to hit 90% right as I was hauling three bags of tulle and a 15-pound cooler into Zilker Park for my niece Chloe’s 9th birthday. I had spent three weeks obsessing over the perfect princess party party hats…
Austin in late March usually feels like a dream, but when my nephew Jax decided he wanted an “O-Fish-Ally 8” birthday, the Texas sun decided to show up early with a vengeance. We were at Brushy Creek Lake Park on March 12, 2024, trying to keep twenty-two screaming boys from jumping into the water while…
My kitchen smelled like a weird mix of scorched sugar and wet dog last Saturday, and honestly, that is just the glamorous reality of being a mom of three in the Portland suburbs. My middle child, Maya, turned seven on April 12th, and she decided she wasn’t quite ready to leave Sunny Day behind, even…
The glue gun is my best friend and my worst enemy. Last Tuesday, I accidentally glued a tea party invitation for kids to my own favorite cardigan. It was for my third-grade class party on March 12, 2024. I had twenty-two nine-year-olds to entertain on a strict $64 budget. Most people think I am crazy….
The basement smelled like wet Chicago concrete and cheap silver spray paint on that Tuesday afternoon in March. My twins, Leo and Maya, were turning twelve, and they had decided that a “space odyssey” was the only acceptable way to celebrate reaching the double-digit pre-teen threshold. I had exactly $47 in the party envelope and…
Maya’s bedroom looked like a glittery glacier had exploded by the time we hit the two-week countdown for her seventh birthday last March. If you have a seven-year-old girl in suburban Portland, you know the vibe. Everything must be “ice blue” or “snow flake white,” and the pressure to find the best crown for frozen…
My second-grade classroom usually smells like a chaotic blend of pencil shavings, half-eaten string cheese, and that unidentifiable floor sticky that appears every Tuesday. Last October, however, the air in Room 2B was thick with the scent of ozone and victory. Leo was turning eight, and his mom—a woman I deeply respect for her ability…
My niece Chloe turned sixteen last July in the middle of a Houston heatwave that felt like living inside a giant hairdryer. She decided she was too old for bowling but apparently just the right age to spend six hours glued to TikTok looking at cottagecore aesthetics. She wanted a fairy-themed bash, but my sister’s…
