Teaching third grade in Houston means I live for the summer, but I spend my weekends submerged in glue sticks and glitter. Last Saturday, April 11, 2026, I found myself in my backyard at 103 degrees Fahrenheit trying to explain to nine sweaty 12-year-olds why they couldn’t actually climb the brick wall. My nephew Leo…
Twenty-two sets of sticky fingers were currently pressing against my classroom windows while I frantically tried to untangle eight rolls of crepe paper. It was May 14, 2025, a Tuesday that felt like a long-drawn-out Friday, and I was in the middle of transforming Room 402 into a tropical rainforest for our end-of-year reading celebration….
February in Chicago is basically a test of human endurance, especially when you have four-year-old twins named Leo and Maya who are vibrating with enough energy to power a small city. Last year, on February 12th, 2024, I decided to lean into the madness by hosting a full-blown cocoa-themed bash in our tiny Logan Square…
The smell of Elmer’s glue and damp cardboard usually signals the end of my sanity, but on April 14th, it signaled the greatest Fourth Grade “Paleontology Gala” Houston has ever seen. I stood in Room 402 with 21 nine-year-old kids who were vibrating with excitement. Mason, a boy who usually communicates only in Minecraft noises,…
My backyard looked like a candy-coated war zone after Leo’s 10th birthday party last Saturday in the Highlands area of Denver. Between the stray confetti and the sticky residue of eighty-four fruit chews, one thing stood out as the undisputed MVP of the afternoon: our battered, cardboard carnival pinata. I’ve spent the last three years…
My kitchen table looked like a glitter bomb detonated on April 12th, exactly three hours before Maya and Leo’s fifth birthday party was set to start. Living in Chicago means you never trust the spring weather, so I had two plans: one for a sunny day at Millennium Park and a backup for our cramped…
Austin heat is no joke, but neither is a four-year-old with a very specific vision for his “Grown-Up Wild One” birthday party. My godson, Leo, decided that he was over primary colors and wanted something “fancy like a knight,” which translated into a black and gold theme that tested every ounce of my party planning…
Leo turned seven last April, and I spent three sleepless nights obsessing over the structural integrity of a paw patrol party treat bags set. Most dads in Denver worry about their lawn or the Broncos’ offensive line, but I was elbows-deep in Children’s Product Certificates (CPC) and lead-paint testing results for tiny plastic whistles. My…
The roar inside my two-bedroom Chicago apartment was deafening. Eight ten-year-olds vibrating with pure sugar adrenaline. Maya and Leo’s milestone tenth birthday had finally arrived. Bringing a magical Colombian casita to life in a cramped urban space felt utterly impossible. Normally, I am the undisputed queen of the fifty-dollar birthday bash. I scour clearance aisles….
My dining room table was completely covered in silver spray paint, black frosting, and exactly three dozen miniature styrofoam balls. Leo and Maya were turning six. Living in a two-bedroom Chicago apartment means hosting 21 hyperactive kindergarteners is an extreme sport, but paying $400 for a two-hour slot at a suburban trampoline park just wasn’t…
