Joni Edelman

I just listened to my four and six year-old children (one boy, one girl) have a lengthy bathtime conversation about babies, growing up, m

In today's HELLO, OBVIOUSLY news: National Coffee Day.

My husband and I recently traveled together without our kids for the first time . . . in a while. And it was a brand-new ball game.

It seems that "at 18 months, almost 60% of toddlers were sleeping for 13 to 14 hours per night." HAHA you're so funny Reuters!

The FDA has approved a new drug for banishing double chins . . . it's ACID.

A weekly trip to Walmart would end in tears — first theirs, then mine. Them pining in the toy aisle. Me saying no. Over and over. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to buy my kids whatever they wanted, it was that I couldn’t.

In honor of World Bipolar Day, I present a sample stream of consciousness based on my experiences living with this disorder.

Body politics activist. Photographer. Chronic quoter of Monty Python. Unapologetic fat chick.

When I was little, any time I got an insect bite or stubbed my toe, I had to ask my mom, “Am I going to die? If I was going to die from this, I’d already be dead — right?” I also had a 30-minute prayer that I needed to say at each meal or else everyone would be poisoned and die. And corners. I had to check all of them before I went to bed.

Attention Civilians: Colonel David Iverson does not want to see your boobs.