Eliana Osborn

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

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.

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

Standardized tests are taking over the world. I can say this because it is true. Like a creeping vine that seems attractive and charming at first, tests appear to be reasonable for the data and direction they can provide.

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

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

My main reason for doing reading testing, enduring a bus ride to a field trip about weapons engineering, and other thrills? Stalking.

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.

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