A few weeks before the baby came, my aunt showed up at the door with a small cloth bag. Inside were dry, brown, wrinkly things that looked a bit like old dates. “Reetha,” she said. “This is what we used for you. No powder. No smell. Nothing.” I smiled and thanked her. Then I put …
It was 11 p.m., and I was standing in front of the washing machine with a basket of tiny clothes on my hip and no idea what to press. The dial had fifteen programs. Cotton. Synthetics. Quick 15. Hygiene. Allergy. Something with a little picture of a baby on it, which seemed promising until I …
I had five browser tabs open, a cup of cold chai beside the laptop, and a shopping cart that kept growing. Six bottles of baby detergent. Every single one promised the same things: dermatologically tested, safe for your baby, plant-based, gentle, chemical-free. And every one of them cost a different amount. I remember sitting there …
It was 3:40 in the morning, and I was standing in the bathroom with a wet muslin cloth in one hand and a white onesie in the other, staring at a stain that hadn’t been there four minutes earlier. If you’ve fed a baby, you know this moment. The feed went well. The burp happened, …
