I remember I was so crabby in my third trimester - I got gestational diabetes because I'd been acting like I was in a one-woman pie-eating contest.

I was just the youngest in the family, and most in desperate need of attention.

Being in therapy is great. I spend an hour just talking about myself. It's kinda like being the guy on a date.

I'm so into momminess.

You can always tell when someone's lying to you, because they're male.

I constantly walk into a room and I don't remember why. But for some reason, I think there's going to be a clue in the fridge.

It's so easy to judge everybody and for some reason extra weight is the one thing everything feels OK to joke about.