I was standing in my Portland kitchen at 11 PM on a Thursday, staring at a pile of faux pearls, burnt lace, and a rapidly cooling glue gun while regretting every life choice that led me to this moment. My eldest daughter, Lily, was turning 11. She had explicitly banned anything remotely “babyish” for her…
Twenty-two first graders and one very small bowl of fairy confetti don’t mix as well as you might think. On October 14, 2024, I learned that the hard way when Leo, a sweet boy with a permanent case of the sniffles, leaned in too close to the “magic dust” bowl and let out a sneeze…
My living room looked like a blue crepe paper factory exploded. It was November 12, 2024, and the Portland rain was drumming against the windows with that persistent, gray rhythm we all know too well. I was on my fourth cup of coffee, staring at a half-finished octonauts banner for kids that my seven-year-old, Leo,…
Twenty-one four-year-olds are a lot louder than you’d expect for a group of supposed stealthy ninjas. On April 12, 2025, my backyard in Denver transformed into a chaotic training ground for my son Leo’s birthday. I spent three weeks hunting for the best ninja party supplies because I refuse to pay premium prices for plastic…
My living room looked like a robot exploded in a disco last March. My daughter Maya was turning nine, and she had decided, with the absolute authority only a third-grader possesses, that her birthday theme would be “Future Galactic Rockstar.” This meant everything had to be silver. I spent three hours trying to find the…
I stood in the middle of my Houston classroom last Tuesday, holding a hot glue gun like a tactical weapon while nineteen toddlers vibrated with the kind of energy only organic apple juice and plastic blocks can produce. We were attempting the impossible: a lego birthday crown that would actually stay on a two-year-old’s sweaty…
The Austin sun was absolutely relentless on June 12, 2025, when I decided to host a “Dog Days of Summer” graduation bash for my nephew, Leo. He just finished third grade, and he is still—bless his heart—obsessed with Chase and Marshall. I love a good theme, but I draw the line at a backyard that…
Austin in August feels like standing inside a giant, humid blow-dryer, but that didn’t stop me from trying to recreate the coolest bedroom aesthetic of 2001 for my dog’s third birthday. My Golden Retriever, Barnaby, sat there looking regal and slightly confused on August 14, 2025, while I frantically tried to light a set of…
Leo turned three on March 12, 2024, and I decided, in my infinite Austin-mom wisdom, that we absolutely had to have a full-blown Mushroom Kingdom in our tiny backyard. It was eighty-five degrees. The humidity was already creeping up. I had seventeen toddlers coming over, a dog named Cooper who thinks balloons are personal enemies,…
I sat on my kitchen floor last Saturday surrounded by seventeen half-eaten arepas and enough purple glitter to be seen from the International Space Station. My niece, Maya, had just turned four, and she insisted on a Mirabel celebration that didn’t involve her parents taking out a second mortgage. Being an elementary teacher in Houston…
