Joni Edelman

The Interent is ugly sometimes. And raising kids using it doesn't always make it easier.

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.

I’m lucky to be smart, to have an astonishingly good memory. Or maybe I’m lucky to be bipolar.

It's always so good to know the folks doing the work you're doing.

Suffering is America’s favorite thing to do. We starve ourselves to lose weight, and we’re a success story. We don’t sleep, and we’re just getting SO MUCH DONE. We do a thousand things a day and involve our kids in a thousand activities, because somehow, in some perverted way, that makes us successful.

They will 

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.

My daughter just had 75 of her Instagram yoga images pilfered. What is going on? And what can we do about it?

The argument against homeschooling is always the same: “Kids need to socialize.”

At certain points in the month I definitely feel worse about my body. I'm much less confident and more prone to eating the wrong things, and not doing physical exercise.