Eliana Osborn

If he were an a--hole to my kids, things would be easier. But he’s not. He’s good with them. He’s his best self. It makes me alternately happy and heartbroken.

I’m proud of you right now, even with all the sadness. Proud of you for heading to rehab, leaving the kids, the man, the house — all of it — to get on top of things. Doing it instead of just thinking about it, talking about it even, hemming and hawing? That’s pretty badass.

I’ve got two tales of hideous male behavior — at the elementary school, somewhere typically full of good vibes and happiness and all that.

My husband is worried about stigma, about Owen feeling different, about epilepsy being part of his identity. Those are sweet concerns, really. And I get it — I love the kid too. I’d never want to make his life harder in any way.

My sister Liz is full of wisdom, like my favorite quote I’ve shared with practically everyone I know: “Every pair of underwear has two good sides.”

Don’t listen to horror stories about airplane tantrums. Listen to me while I let you in on the secret perks of seeing the world with kiddos.

I’m not a fan of repeating things over and over so that they lose their meaning. "Pledge: a solemn promise or agreement." It is that extra level, the solemnity, that makes me uncomfortable with casual usage.

After this, I’m not going to be able to complain about Meghan Trainor and having to teach my son that "All About That Bass" is talking about girls with big booties.

I cried every single day of my life until I was 18 years old. I did not know this was abnormal.

Look, Connect Four is not a good game. But it can be over quickly, which is pretty great.