Eliana Osborn

Kirk Cameron in all his Growing Pains glory was the ideal crush. Unthreatening, goofy, good kid with very reasonable weekly conflicts. And a good smile. Always been a sucker for that.

I wanted to write a book last summer. Then I realized what a terrible goal that was and modified accordingly.

Now that I’m a mother, I’m much more sympathetic to a woman who just couldn’t take it anymore. Not saying I’d leave my kids in a parking lot and hope for the best . . . just saying that I can understand the impulse.

I’ve developed a fast and furious passion for the new Daily Show host, Trevor Noah.

I’m not there yet. But I need to be honest—I’m closer to 40 than any other multiple of five.

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.

Eighteen hours, even if prepared with reading and art material, snacks, and an upgrade to China Airline’s family couch seating, is still EIGHTEEN HOURS.

Best case scenario? A few hours of activity, then we all fall asleep comfortably. Worst case? Well, let's just say it involves blood splatter on those weird double-paned airplane window.

I get how we want to make our kids successful and everything, right from the start. Feeding into the pressure, here’s the tagline from Starling’s company: “The world’s first word-tracking system that can improve your child’s trajectory for life.”

I, like far too many women in this country and the world, have had a wide variety of experiences involving sexual harassment.

I am going to have amazing posture. My neck will look so skinny just from the way I hold my head.