When I was pregnant with my first child I received a mailer from a very worthy international non-profit that had "EVERY TEN MINUTES A PREGNANT WOMAN DIES" printed on the envelope. The organization was referring to women in Chad, but I was hormonal and terrified and nuance was pretty lost on me. Was a hysterical email…

IT IS MAY, THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE.

The jar is massive. I'm pretty sure I can put my whole fist in it.

I'm a mom, and not a hipster or someone who finds safety in cynicism, and I think this holiday is ridiculous. Did I accept my day to sleep in and my excellently rendered picture of a...something colorful and my industrial-sized jar of Nutella? Yes, because I'm not an ingrate. But I'll never begrudge anyone who doesn't…

Ah yes. Be the change you wish to see in the world. Or perhaps not.

That is really upsetting. Babies are so easy to hug. They're light and cuddly and when they're upset and you hug them and they stop crying you feel like A PARENTAL GOD WITH THE POWER TO CALM YOUR OFFSPRING WITH YOUR MIGHTY HUGS. Sure, they might barf on you, but whatever. PARENTAL SUPERPOWERS.

Hug your babies, people. It's not that hard.

Other nostril. God forbid it's twins.

The British are trying to have babies out of their noses. Brits. They're weird.

Sure—it's The Popularity Papers series. It's aimed at 8-13 year-olds but please have a go. The seventh and final installment will be coming out in September.

When my kidlit book was translated to Korean the (gay) fathers of a main character were changed into "best friend roommates." It's eye-rollingly obvious that Daddy and Papa Dad are together, but the Korean publishers still insisted on the changes in order to be able to sell the books.

My husband was just trying to "do the right thing" and show respect to my dad—his heart was in the right place. Now he understands that my dad gets his respect when someone comes to him for gardening advice. Of you talk to my dad as though he owns his kids, he will not like it; treat him as though he is MASTER OF ALL…

When I warned my father that my then-boyfriend wanted to ask him for my hand in marriage, my dad was taken aback. "Why would he do that?" My dad asked, "If you like him who the hell cares what I think?" My dad rocks.

I graduated from an all-women's art college. We all took a self defense course as part of our first year orientation and everyone, regardless of major, had to take a non-credited woodshop class. It was awesome.

Just write any old thing. Write about the first time you cooked something for yourself or describe the weirdest person you ever met on public transportation. It will probably be terrible but it will get your writing brain nice and churned up. Writer's Block isn't a real thing—if you call it what it is, which is a fear…

It's been four hours and my story hasn't changed. When you have to go, you have to go, and you should be able to wipe yourself after you go. My words and my thoughts are mine and mine alone, although I'd like to believe that many people agree with me, particularly those who have recently eaten inexpensive Mexican…

You don't replace the toilet paper?!?

My real toddler just rubbed peanut butter all over the front of her shirt. FASHION!

JESUS CHRIST.

My 1-year-old is not my best friend. But I do hang out with her the most, so I'd say we're pretty tight.