This weekend we did what any sane parents who need a little relaxation but who also know that packing up three kids and two adults for longer than a couple days is straight bonkers would do–a staycation.

It’s Father’s Day weekend! Just wanted to check in and say that I hope you and the fatherly figures in your life are celebrating.On this blog and in the world, we give moms a lot of the credit for all the kid- and family-related work, but dads are toiling away in the background and often […]

But it’s just that we spend so much damn time analyzing our baby’s growth and his feeding and the color of his poops that we forget to keep track of our own, and other moms’, mental health and strength. And often to our own detriment.

It was dark outside, well past my 4-year-old son’s bedtime, and we were crammed into his twin bed, nose to nose. He was in that very distinct stage of not-quite-sleep where all the silliness wanes and the sweetness surfaces.

There are long days, and then there are long, rainy days with three children under the age of 4 in your house. I’ll let you take one guess as to which one feels longer.

Reporting to you tonight live from the trenches, where I am currently sheltering in a corner of my house while FIVE–count ’em, FIVE–children literally tear my house to shreds, I bring you today’s edition of “Get Familiar.”

Breastsleeping is when a breastfeeding mother co-sleeps with her infant, allowing the baby to nurse on demand throughout the night without leaving the comfort of bed.

Hi friends! Here we are, two weeks into raising our third baby, and I find myself going through a lot of the same emotions and routines that I did with our first two kids.

Remember–in the times before iPads and smart phones–when summer was dedicated to swimming pools, idle time, dripping ice cream cones and juicy slices of watermelon?Remember catching lightning bugs and putting them in jars? Staying out so late that your sunburn already melted into a perfect golden brown tan by the time you actually headed inside […]

It is 2am. You are standing in a drafty hospital room, naked except for a paper-thin robe. A nurse just finished sticking you with a needle and popping one of a vein in one of your hands. (Surprisingly painful.) You haven’t slept in 20 hours.