By Raakhee Mirchandani for Elle Magazine

A few months ago, a friend said she potty trained her daughter in a single weekend. I myself was a few weeks into the toilet training ordeal with my own toddler, bribing her with everything from chocolates and Elmo videos to a selection of fresh-out-the-box toys, including a massive plastic Doc McStuffins veterinary clinic that took my husband an hour to put together. I briefly considered giving her $100 per toilet turd.

By Raakhee Mirchandani for Elle Magazine

A review of the book Adnan's Story: The Search for Truth and Justice After Serial by Rabia Chaudry

By Raakhee Mirchandani for Elle Magazine

Things never seem to move fast enough. People in the street walk too slowly. I always call a restaurant at least twice between the time the order is placed and my buzzer actually rings and no matter how hard I try, it takes me less than five minutes to inhale my lunch, each lettuce leaf hurtling like an express train down my throat. It's not ladylike, but it's effective.

By Raakhee Mirchandani for Elle Magazine

Capturing the perfect selfie can be a real pain in the elbow. Seriously.

It's time to add "selfie elbow" to the growing list of problems your social media addiction is causing. Like tennis elbow or golfer's elbow—minus, you know, any actual exercise—a dedication to selfie-taking is landing people in the doctor's office.

By Raakhee Mirchandani for Elle Magazine

My daughter Satya and I talk about lots of things. She's 2.5 — the .5 is important, she's very clear about that — so our daily musings vary between the importance of pooping in the potty, rather than next to it, if dogs are better than cats (they are, duh), and if butterflies and bumblebees have mamas that make them eat broccoli. But earlier this week we had a different conversation. It seemed ridiculous not to talk about it, given the tragic scene in Orlando last week.