Yes, I’m that weirdo you see at Starbucks talking to her phone and saying things like, “I’ll call you right back, semicolon. I’m holding the baby, period. See you soon, exclamation point!”

Pin it I spent the morning in Target (because it is a day ending in “y,” and also #summertime, and #3kidsunder4), and a funny thing occurred to me, as I swept past the toy section with my three kids–desperately trying, and failing, to distract them from the sea of plastic we were passing.One preternaturally calm […]

Before I tell you the mental short circuit that led to the above-mentioned moment, let me assure you that she’s all good. They were bamboo sharks, which if Wikipedia is to be believed, are “harmless to humans.”

My kids are slowly destroying our house, one flooded bathroom floor and lipstick-painted rug at a time. As I write this, my daughter is digging Nutella from the jar with a Lego and eating it. She is failing mightily at actually getting it into her mouth.

Ask any mom: One of the most fun and rewarding things about giving birth to a tiny human is dressing said tiny human in their early years.

So. Baby wearing. Let’s talk about it.I can’t say that in the past I’ve ever been a fan.It’s not that it’s not perfectly adorable and kinda sweet; it’s just that all the carriers that friends recommended to me made me feel less “Chic New Mom” and more “Slipped Disc Waiting to Happen.” After carrying around […]

These days, nestled somewhere between power washing the driveway and re-organizing my sock drawer on my list of priorities is working out.

After the birth of our son, our first child, there was an actual worn path in the nursery room carpet, in the shape of a Figure 8 from the hours and hours I would spend pacing, trying to get him to sleep.

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.