Joni Edelman

I don’t think of myself as fat. Not inside, anyway.

photo credit: Lindy West (instagram), by

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

Good god, where will I ever find someone who will love me in such a pitiful condition?

With the help of the midwife—and immense effort on my part—Ella finally slid out into the water. But she was limp, pale. It was scary.

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

Don’t most kids feel afraid to come home?

She says she’s worried that the cat, whose name is Jack, doesn’t know what’s going on. She tried to explain to him that she was leaving for a while.

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

Our relationship has been a little complicated. I've loved you a lot, and I've loathed you at least that much, but mostly you've just gone unnoticed. Except for those 5 to 7 days every four weeks when you made your presence quite evident, what with the river of life blood and the random excruciating, and from what I can tell, unnecessary, contractions.