Eliana Osborn
Bio
Eliana Osborn Articles
Sometimes the nicest kids turn into whole new people when they come over to your house.
Read...If you kill a tortoise, even on accident, you probably shouldn’t have children.
Read...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.
Read...What’s That Smell? Sniffing Out Weird House Odors
Read...How do you love someone who continually does things to hurt himself? I’ve been holding a phone with my stoned, sobbing brother on the other end for nearly 20 years. I keep picking up the pieces, keep having my heart break, because he’s my brother.
Read...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.
Read...There are some days of parenting that are magical, full of unicorns and four leaf clovers and lottery winnings. Those are the moments when I catch myself, just for a second, feeling content and happy and looking around trying to freeze things. Out of 7000 days, those maybe make up five a year.
Read...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.
Read...I’m terrified of wrongful imprisonment. To be the only one who knows the truth and have to live every day in a cell, wondering, why, god, why? [...] Sitting hooked up for gadgets to monitor every aspect of my mind and body, in a small room without any distraction, I see how a person could lose herself — or the truth — for a moment.
Read...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.
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