At first, Karoline Leavitt’s maternity leave barely left a dent. Secretary of State Marco Rubio stepped behind the podium and wooed the press corps. Reporters were still talking about his briefing days later.
Vice President JD Vance filled in twice. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent took his swing, earning some chuckles with that dry humor of his. Even Dr. Oz popped by to take our questions.
Over the last month, though, the briefings had simply stopped. And truthfully? Trump doesn’t really need a press secretary. He takes so many questions on his own that briefings can start to feel redundant.
But there’s something about the anticipation of gathering for a briefing. The buzz in the room. The jockeying for a question.
And as much as President Donald Trump takes questions, he rarely takes 40 in one sitting. Karoline does. Her schedule is predictable, too. Which is to say, I like knowing there’s a guaranteed shot at questioning the press secretary. I miss the routine.
Wednesday night, as I was about to head to bed, the White House daily guidance hit my inbox. I scrolled the schedule. And there, at the bottom, was something I hadn’t seen in a while: Press briefing. 1 p.m. With Karoline Leavitt.
She was back.
By Thursday morning, the briefing room was packed again. In a weird way, it felt like a reunion. I exchanged hellos and hugs with White House reporters I hadn’t seen since the last briefing in June.
Then that little voice came over the intercom, and the room hushed.
“Two minutes until the briefing.”
Two minutes later, Leavitt took the podium. She was dressed in pink, like she never left.
I liked my chances of getting a question. I’d worn a red and white dress that stood out in a room of black and gray suits. But right as the briefing began, a tall man sat directly in front of me. Not even my booster seat could lift me over his head.
Panic set in. I leaned all the way to the left, practically into my neighbor’s seat. Annoying, I’m sure. But you do whatever you can to get called on.