Carrie Saum

I've been taking some time this summer to focus on self-care.

Quiche. It's a bit of a unicorn, isn't it? You chase the perfect texture, combination, flavors, and rise in hopes that it equals perfection.

[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.

Peanut butter can provide a good hit of protein and in the mornings, that’s what I need more than anything else. Except I love pastries.

I do this thing that I'm really proud of: 

I eat leftovers.

On a whim, I grabbed some feta cheese at the store and fresh parsley. Then a few sweet peppers, cucumbers, garlic, yogurt, dill and mint found their way into my cart, as well. What transpired was nothing short of an absolute inspiration.

We had no turkey, no casserole dishes heaped sweet potatoes or creamy green beans, no pies made from scratch, no beautiful table settings or nice dishes to heap our non-existent feast upon.

Last month, I heard my kid say "I'm sorry" to a complete stranger at Target for no reason.

The shame was overwhelming. Why was my body broken? What had I done to my baby? I began to spiral into self-loathing. Gestational diabetes felt like a failure.

We're in flu season hell! In fact, according to, uh, science, it’s one of the worst seasons we’ve seen in the last 10 years.