Joni Edelman

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

Misogyny is pervasive. And my three boys are living it all.

I'll never forget the day I discovered the name for my mental illness.

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

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

[CN: suicide, overdose] Gratitude stops me from ending my life, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to end my life. Even the fierce love I have for my family doesn’t mean I don’t feel utterly hopeless sometimes.

As the mother of three teens, I'm here to tell you: You have nothing to freak out about.

As a former Mormon, the Church's revelation that they're going to start “loving and accepting” the LGBT community makes me laugh. Hard.

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.

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