Eliana Osborn

When I’m staring at the wall trying to keep my cool when my 6-year-old is hysterical about the tiny bump on his finger, I attempt to channel some of the good parts.

I’m not broken by this therapy failure. Jane wasn't the person to help me at this point of my life. Someone else WILL be.

You may have heard the term "bromance" and tried to wash your ears out with bleach (bad idea). Sadly, scientist types heard the word too.

I’m full of emotions: pride, awe, fear, nerves. The spelling bee first, then the piano recital. Two different kids, same mom. Same me, wanting to prevent my boys from pain and discomfort. Same me, biting my tongue and smiling broadly in support.

Your partner will make you want to throw up at some point. Pure, unadulterated disgust.

Really, you should thank me. I’m just protecting your future self.

I always have a small piece of my brain on mom mode, no matter what else is happening. I have no problem with this, since that is how humanity has survived.

"Sharknado 3" has an especially unique moment when a human baby is born by being cut out of the side of a shark. Don’t ask questions, there’s nothing to explain.

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.

We take weekend turns. He does vacations and summers. Literally. He takes them away. It is great.