Food Horrors

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by Eliana:

My husband told me he'd found a cute little croissant shop for us to try for breakfast. The whole family was excited when we left the hotel the next morning. When we arrived, it wasn't crowded which surprised me in such a touristy area. There were indeed hundreds or thousands of croissants inside, on racks organized by filling. Plain, chocolate, manzana (apple), etc.

Just one problem. At least two hundred bees.

All over the food, plus flying around the air. I tried to be cool and get croissants from the non-infested racks. This proved impossible. Some shelves had just one bee to every three croissants. Others had ten bees per croissant. I can honestly say, I'll be having nightmares for the rest of my life.

Also, I somehow did buy four croissants. They weren't very good.

Dear readers, please share your stories of disgusting or terrifying food experiences. Solidarity will help us all to heal.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best. Twitter: Eliana0Eliana. Website: elianaosborn.com.
Image credit: poppet with a camera (used with permission).

My Kids Are Strangers

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by Eliana:

“They’re such good travelers,” my husband and I tell people about our children.

“Owen just talks to his fingers in the car and looks out the window,” I say when asked about the 10 hour drive for a weekend trip.

“They read and color and then the last hour we let them use a device of some kind.”

All of these sentences are true. Most of the time in fact.

But on this trip, right now, they are lies. Bald-faced lies about children I have never met. The two kids living with me in this rental house in Chapala, Mexico, are terrible. They clearly have never left their homes before.

School Violence

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by Eliana:

We are a family of pacifists by any stretch of definition; my husband, 6’4” and 300 pounds, has never hit anyone in his life. I got in a fight in fourth or fifth grade when another girl called me an egghead. Otherwise, nothing. Our laid back, quiet family is such that our first son, Cole, spent his early years confused by kids who were aggressive on the playground. It was so outside his experience that he’d come back, flabbergasted, asking why a person would push him.

Cole’s in third grade at a school focused on science and engineering. It’s a public school but a specialized one. He loves it and I love that they are all a bunch of nerds running around together, oblivious to the fact that not everyone talks about computer coding while playing soccer.

A few days ago I got an email from Cole’s teacher. There had been an incident. The kids were standing in line to go to lunch when Girl behind my son started punching him in the back. In his version, “I told on her,” he cried, life went on. At the end of the day, Girl came over to apologize; Cole was sitting down, she stood above him, said sorry, then gently slapped his face.

Immediate thoughts as I read this email with several hours left in the school day: should I go get him and rescue him? Can this Girl be disappeared? Then, almost as quickly, have I done something to make my son a target?

Dear Editor: Hairstyles Too Extreme

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by Eliana:

I have very little memorabilia from my years at BYU. I don't think I ever owned a piece of clothing or anything stamped with a logo. I had a lot of pens from their fabulous selection in the bookstore, but those are long gone.

What I do have is this very special letter to the editor, circa 1998, from The Daily Universe. The letter was written about me, by a stranger. I feel pretty special, even all these years later. Oh how I don't miss the self-righteousness of the Cougars, though it seems to be alive and well from the stories I still hear about leggings, skinny jeans, and the testing center.

Do you have any classy 1990's memorabilia? Kolob Kitsch can probably help if you are feeling nostalgic for EFY cds and such.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best. Twitter: Eliana0Eliana. Website: elianaosborn.com.

An Infographic: Should I Homeschool?

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by Eliana:

Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best. Twitter: Eliana0Eliana. Website: elianaosborn.com.

Never Compound Shame

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by Eliana:

The Gospel Doctrine lesson this past week was about burdens, or at least that is what I took away from my preparations to teach it. We have very few verses to read and I focused on those near the end of Luke 7.

A woman, sinful, is serving Jesus. Since most sins aren’t known to others, she’s got to be well known for her sins, yet she doesn’t hide away in shame. Like most of us do, right? If I know I’ve blown it, praying is difficult for a while. But this woman, she just wants to be close to Jesus and show him her love and respect. I love that.

In the Book of Mormon my favorite part has always been when the Lamanites are captive and receive a rather unusual blessing—not freedom, like I would want, or the bad guys to fall over dead. Instead they are blessed to not feel the burdens on their backs. Combined with great Nephi paintings of my childhood, imagine the muscle mass on these guys!

How a Temple Visit Changed My Life, Just Not Like You Expect

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by Eliana:

I'm not a big temple goer but I recently was an escort for a young friend getting married whose family couldn't participate. We were at the Mt. Timpanogos Temple in Lehi, Utah (or thereabouts—all those towns slide together to me). Being there just for someone else, not thinking about myself, was a really good experience for me.

During some of the waiting around in the sealing room, I thought of the last and only time I'd been to this temple in particular. I will take you back in time now to 1996 when Mt. Timpanogos Temple was first opening …

I was an 18 year old sophomore at BYU-Provo, just known as BYU back in the day. I was engaged (it is so hard to keep typing this without throwing up) to the former roommate of my former boyfriend. I KNOW! He'd gotten baptized at the University of Utah over the summer and we decided to go to the temple open house with his mother in town visiting.

Till We Meet Again, Bravermans

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by Eliana:

Talking about television is a bit tacky but I’m doing it anyway. The NBC show Parenthood has just ended a five year run. I’m in mourning. For those of you not in the know, Parenthood is about the Braverman family—two parents, four grown children, and their families. Problems ensue. Happy things happen as well as challenges. It is the most realistic depiction of family that I think I’ve ever seen on television.

Before I open this up to comments about what we each love about the show or different characters, let me get into some of my reasons. I am not going to list characters, though I’m tempted. Wikipedia is helpful for that sort of thing. I’m not going to tell you to watch it, though you should. Everyone has a different comfort level and sometimes people on Parenthood do not follow all the standards in the For the Strength of the Youth pamphlet. One of the reasons I like the show is because there is follow through: actions generally have consequences. Kind of like real life.

• Forgiveness: People hurt us. We can move on. In the show, as life, this doesn’t have to be fast or simple but in order to move forward in our relationships, we have to do it.
• Family: The people who know us best, at our best and our worst. And they love us anyway.
• Plans: Go ahead and make them. Maybe life will work accordingly but maybe (probably) not. You have to roll with it and not give up.
• Love: Such a complicated thing. Loving people who are jerks. Learning to love. Allowing someone back into your heart. Loving at different stages. Love, sweet love.

I hope I’m not the only Parenthood fan out there. That would make me sad. I should be offering t-shirts for commenters but I’m just not up for it right now. I want to hear about your favorite moments that spoke to you, like a very accurate portrayal of how it feels to be a sibling to someone on the autism spectrum, for example.

We’ll miss you crazy Braverman clan. I know a way your family can be together forever, if you’d like to learn more.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best. Twitter: Eliana0Eliana. Website: elianaosborn.com.

10% Happier

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by Eliana:

I walked by the new nonfiction book shelf at my library and a title caught my attention:

I didn't read the small text to notice that this was a memoir of sorts. All I saw was 10% Happier. It seemed intriguing and realistic. So I took it home.

Now I'm finished. It was interesting, though I don’t know anything about the author, Dan Harris, a news anchor for ABC news. Basically he tells of his career and finding meditation. That's what makes you 10% happier: it doesn't fix your life of course but it helped him change his whole way of thinking. Here’s a clip of him briefly discussing this:



For me and probably other Christians generally, meditation has always been mixed with prayer for me. But quiet thoughtfulness is different than meditation. Pondering I guess is the word I would use—thinking, feeling, working something out in your mind. Meditation is trying to be silent though, to not think about problems or anything. I appreciated Harris' descriptions of this, as well as his honest description of dealing with different 'gurus' or perspectives on mindfulness.

I feel like I need to try meditating, to give it ten minutes a day for a month, and see if it is a positive experience for me. I'm fairly sure, based on science and common sense, that it would be good. Maybe I'll report back. Here is a basic guide to meditation.

So, fellow Mormons, do you meditate? How do you feel about adding Buddhism to your Christian faith? Share your experiences, please.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best.

The Worst Gifts

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by Eliana:

Remain anonymous if you must, but this is a safe space for sharing. In the church we talk a lot about the best gifts—service and such—but not much about the worst ones. Things under the tree frankly have nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas, so lets come out of the shadows and speak truth.

My mother-in-law gave me a pair of queen size panty hose one year for Christmas. I was not remotely queen sized. That was the entire gift.

I looked early at my gifts only once in my whole life, 8th or 9th grade. I was getting a hideous bright purple long dress coat and a Gameboy. At that moment I realized that my parents knew me not at all. I spent the next week or two trying to come up with good reasons to return the ugliest coat known to man.

There's one other horrible gift I can think of but I'll save that for if we get enough comments coming in. Please share. We all need this after busy weeks of lots of travel and family and cheeriness. Now real life has to come back. Spill the beans: worst gift this year (hello coupon book for service from anyone over the age of 15) or of all time.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best.
Image credit: Kasia (used with permission).

Invasion of the Body Waxers

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by Eliana:

Driving from Spanish Fork, Utah, all the way to Idaho Falls, Idaho, I start feeling like I need some sort of enhancement procedures. I don’t love how I look generally but I accept it; then on I-15 I see all my options for boob jobs, fat sucking, teeth whitening, plus some things involving lasers that I don’t quite understand.

Contradictions: Bodies are temples, gifts from God. We should keep them clean and perfect. No tattoos, minimal piercing, covered generally, with hair and makeup ‘tasteful’ and discrete.

So what about teeth whitening? Is it ok because it isn’t permanent, like hair color? Acrylic nails have no point beyond aesthetics, yet they are definitely widespread among all generations in my ward. Again, they are temporary additions to the body rather than permanent alterations.

How do we justify breast enhancement? Do we need to justify it or is it just a personal decision? How do we explain surgery for no medical purpose, to change our God given physical appearance? I don’t have an answer here—I have no problem with a woman doing something to make her feel more confident. But the message I hear, at least given to the youth, is that beyond general hygiene and social mores, our appearance shouldn’t matter.

An Interview with Jared Garrett, Author of Beyond the Cabin

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by Eliana:

Jared Garrett has recently published a YA novel titled Beyond the Cabin based on his own experiences growing up in a cult offshoot of Scientology. I've followed him over the years as he's gone through draft after draft, editorial hope and crushed dreams. I read the book, even though I don't read much YA, and found it interesting—especially when coming from an LDS author even though the church has no part of the book.

Eliana: Beyond the Cabin ends much earlier than I would have hoped. Why do you choose to end it then instead of after a successful escape?

Jared Garrett: Long answer to this, but it's at the heart of everything in this story. Please bear with me! Beyond the Cabin was a tough story to write. For one, it's sort of my story - particularly how I would have preferred to have handled my experience in the cult. Another reason it was challenging is because the story takes place over around 4-5 months, but it includes events that happened over a ten-year period, in a very different order too. So I had to find the right story to tell—the right arc for Joshua to travel as he comes to terms with his life and circumstances. But I also needed to make sure that the story was true to who he was and who I am.

The truth is I never escaped, per se. I did a lot to gain control of my personal, inner life and eventually by extension my destiny. From age 10 to age 13, I subsisted on fury and bitterness. I realized my temper was a mess, so I started studying the Dao and meditating. Through that, and honestly through some of the stuff the cult had us do, I found control over my emotions, eventually finding a way to switch them off. After gaining this control is when I started truly seeing the cult around me with open, clear eyes. At that point, I had for all intents and purposes escaped from their control. I didn't do punishments. I ignored tyrannical edicts. I let adults scream at me while I smiled at them.

Feminist Club

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by Eliana:

My entire extended family on the maternal side got together for a reunion over Thanksgiving. It was fun, I chatted a lot, yada yada yada. My mom has four sisters, no brothers. They are loud women with lots of opinions. My mom is probably the most mellow which I can't believe I am even saying. I've grown up with strong, interesting women for my whole life—and all of that generation are active in the church.

My little cousins (by which I mean Grown Women Younger than Me) cornered me and asked if we could have dinner together one night. A girl table! How fun! Not having to eat with children! This is how Nichole and Abby presented their offer:

"Eliana, can we have dinner with you tonight so you can teach us about Mormon feminism?"

How can a girl say no to such a request? I let go my laughter at the idea of having anything to share or having any special knowledge on the subject and agreed to go for it.

Best. Conversation. Ever.

It’s a Small (Mormon) World

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by Eliana:

I have a recurring dream, maybe two or three times a year. I walk into sacrament meeting and see a new family. New to the ward that is: an ex-boyfriend, his wife and a pile of kids. In the nightmare it is just awkward all the time, not dramatic, but I don’t really want a calling with this woman and don’t want to share a pew with a man who broke my heart.

We all know the do you know? game in Mormondom, based on mission or where you once lived. The weirdest part, the reason we keep doing it despite the long odds, is that often we meet someone we are connected to. I’d like to share three stories of my own about the small, small world of church members. Some are great moments, others an unwelcome blast from left field.

• Freshman year in college at BYU I had five roommates. One of them mentioned my name to her father on the phone. Yada yada yada, he and my dad were mission companions. Interestingly, both had first daughters whom they gave weird names to. More interesting were the stories from both parties.

A Dream Deferred

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by Eliana:

You know that poem by Langston Hughes? Even if you don't do poetry, you've at least heard of the drama A Raisin in the Sun. I've always loved it, despite it being very foreign to my existence.

The options, according to the poem: a dream can dry up (like a grape becoming a raisin) or it can explode. I may be losing some of the linguistic beauty, but that's the Cliff Notes version.

I had a dream this year, the year my youngest child started kindergarten. My dream was to write a book. It has been simmering and floating around for a long time but I knew it would need more focus than I could manage with a small person around.

The Child Welfare System

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by Eliana:

I went to family court with a sister from my ward recently. She's working a plan to get her children out of foster care and back home with her on a full-time basis, after more than a year of only visits.

I was there to support, nothing more. And it was hard. It isn't a good situation for anyone involved. Waiting for our turn in the courtroom, we ran into another couple from our ward. They were having a hearing about the foster child they are in the process of adopting.

Our time in front of the judge was brief, mostly making sure that progress is being met, with check-ins from five or six institutional entities: case worker, guardian ad litem for the kids, attorney for mother, attorney for absent father, and more. It was exhausting to me even though I had no personal involvement in the issues.

Ten years ago my husband and I became licensed foster parents in Arizona after hours of classes, building a higher fence around our pool and numerous other small home changes, background checks, and letters from friends and relatives vouching for our sanity. We agreed to take a sibling group, up to three children, since they can be hard to place together. I quit my job.

Then … nothing happened. Our case manager essentially disappeared; no one would return our calls. We had a paper saying we were legit and legal but it didn't seem to matter. A few months later we got a call to do an emergency placement: little baby, just for a weekend, while her regular foster parents had to leave the state for a family event.

There was very little sleep on my part—baby was only eight weeks old—but otherwise our three days went very smoothly. When I had to give her back, meeting the foster folks in a Walmart parking lot, I knew she was safe and sound. 72 hours, maybe a little less. Still it was extremely hard to hand this baby over.

At that moment I realized that foster care was not going to work for us.

Esperanto in General Conference?

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by Eliana:

Why I care about conference talks in non-English:

• Less ethnocentric. I don't want to debate blue suits/white shirts, but this is a small step in recognizing that English and North American culture is not inherently more righteous.


• Romance languages. Dreamy. Everything sounds better.


• Young Folk. We need to have people who look like us to look up to. This is a problem in the larger church (non-local level leaders) that has many valid causes. Hearing someone who speaks your language in a leadership position is powerful in seeing yourself there someday.


• Respect. How would you feel having to stand in front of the largest audience of your life and not be able to speak in the way you are most comfortable.

What else am I missing? What are your thoughts on the subject?


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best.
Image credit: GeoLocation.

Can You Talk Good English?

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by Eliana:

I made friends with a woman at church several years ago, the one you do, based on compatible children. We were miserably pregnant at the same time too, so our bond was sealed for life. She happens to be smart and funny and sardonic which helped too. Oh, and she's Japanese which is slightly less rare than finding a blue lobster in our community. 

Through my friend I met a few other Japanese women, and when she moved away I got to know one lady in particular quite well. Eventually, through my Yakuza-like insider connections to the hub of the Japanese diaspora on the US-Mexico border, I met Rina.

Rina is my conversation partner. We meet each week for an hour to talk. (I suspect my husband might be paying her to try to use up my word allotment each day.) Rina wants to practice her English and noticed, through various social encounters, that I speak clearly. I have so few talents that I appreciate such a compliment and immediately liked her.

Dream Jobs

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by Eliana:

A few days ago I caught the end of a story on the NPR program All Things Considered. Apparently there's been some confusion about the North Carolina/South Carolina state line. You can probably imagine the bureaucratic nightmare of having your home or business in a different jurisdiction than you thought. 

The five second transition after the story is what caught my attention: a music clip of the Robin Thicke song Blurred Lines. See? The story is about lines and they aren't clear … which is another way to say blurred? Genius.

My dream job is to be the NPR music person—not doing stories about celebrities or albums. I just want to be in charge of the sneaky snippets of music serving as an inside joke if you can place the song and figure out it's connection to the story. When done well, these brief moments elevate my enjoyment of a piece to a whole new level.

Other dream jobs:

• The one I already have, teaching community college without dealing with politics, but in my fantasy there's an entirely different pay structure involved.
• Back-up dancer for a big concert act. 
• Researcher, primarily for a quirky billionaire with flexible deadlines.

And you? What's your dream job? 

*It goes without saying that if you have influence regarding hiring for any of my dream jobs, I fully expect you to pull some strings for me.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best.
Image credit: Atsuke (used with permission).

Marriage Advice

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by Eliana:

From my father-in-law to his son, my husband, at some point between ages 21 and 26 when we got married: "There's a lot of women who are good in the kitchen. You got to make sure you find one who's good in the bedroom."

From the musical and actual novel Les Miserables: "To love another person is to see the face of God."

From my grandmother at my bridal shower: "Before you get married, keep your eyes wide open. After you get married, keep them half shut."