Joni Edelman

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.

I didn't get a lot of mothering as a child, but when I did, it was from her. She taught me how to sew, how to crochet. She taught me how to stand up for myself, to be tough. She taught me how to make fried chicken and fried okra, which I will never make, because it's fucking gross.

It doesn’t get any more difficult to insult ourselves, regardless of how old we are. It would be ideal if it got easier to respect ourselves, but it generally doesn’t do that either. Every year you age, and every year the aging you looks at the you of the years before and thinks, I can’t believe I thought I was fat/ugly/etc.

By baby three, well let’s just say things are a little anticlimactic, at least where furnishings are concerned. Hand me down crib. Check.

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.

Do you want people to for-sure panic? Tell them not to panic.

Help. Me. Please. And by help me, I mean, bring me my jumbo size jar of

Psychiatric illness is still stigmatized. And that’s hard when you have a psychiatric illness.

We've got Trump, Vladimir, Comey, and all the other players lined up for you. Here are the facts, followed by our IRL translation, to make sure you know that you know all abouts that latest (and possibly tenure-ending) Trump scandal.