Carrie Saum

But seriously, Babywatchers. STOP IT. It’s none of your business. Commenting on a woman’s body in general without any solicitation from the woman is not only unwanted, it’s inappropriate.

By 13, I clearly understood: Thinness was next to Godliness, and I could never achieve either without extraordinary means. Jesus loves skinny people.

I LOVE brunch. I love brunch more than I love most humans/animals/home renovation shows. It will come as no surprise when I tell you that I revere brunch like many people revere Lady Gaga and The Big Lebowski and Christmas. Brunch is a Big Deal for me — I take it seriously.

I've spent the last week in sunny California. I was there for a massive food expo. It was also Spring Break.

[CN: emetophobia] I wish my son's gut could handle more than a few foods. I wish there were a magic Google function that could tell me and all of Echo's doctors how to manage this jerk of an allergy.

Apparently, there's a thing happening in Houston this weekend. A sportsball game of some sort and people are super excited about it.

Instead of making lunch once a day, I make it once every three days. It saves on energy, brain power, and I don't have to figure out feeding myself in my janky kitchen more often than absolutely necessary.

Friends. I have discovered something magical.

Here’s a crash course on self-talk. Self-talk is the voice in your head, the invisible responder, the captain of your brain ship.

Gather anything orange, brown, olive green, harvest yellow, and dead. Dead leaves, dead flowers, dead hopes and dreams, and arrange them artistically on your front doorstep.