My Nanny has dementia

My Nanny has dementia. The recent confirmation, paired with an event that landed her in the hospital, has our family in one of life’s inevitable, difficult transition periods.

Three weeks after she turned 93, my last baby turned 1. Time has become an unavoidable specter in daily life.

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14th wedding anniversary, turning 35, and my three sons

Yesterday Noah and I celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary in a very 14th wedding anniversary way:

  1. We had dinner at the restaurant where we had our first date (as we've done every year)

  2. One of us counted Weight Watchers points for the meal

  3. Afterward we went to Barnes & Noble and got a coffee and some books

  4. We picked up our three children from their grandparents' house by 7:30

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All about Harry, part 1: the gestational period

I've got a thing with pregnancies. I make great babies, but it takes a toll.

We stayed on top of monitoring all the possible conditions, which did absolutely nothing to prevent the onslaught of those conditions. Only this time I also had been diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder prior to pregnancy, so they'd be watching the baby extra closely as well. Knowledge is power! I mean, terror!

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A return to reality after having taken to the waters. Reality, turns out, isn't so bad.

We went back to the beach, and it was wonderful. We went to the aquarium, and it was great fun. We faffed about, drove into Oriental a few more times. I'm actually going to do a Travel, In Brief post about Oriental, but I will say that for having been there for only two weeks, I started to feel like a local.

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The plight of the whales, Little Baby Lens, and lupus: a snapshot of my idiosyncrasies

Lately, the weeks have been flying by (cliche), but the speedy passage of time has just further added to the minor funk I've been in. Ethan is finishing 4th grade, Oliver is prepping for kindergarten, Harry is sleeping in his own room, the whales are dying because of plastic. Also I have wolf-face disease. Anyway, life is fleeting. (<—name that quote! It’s an obscure one…)

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The night I met David Sedaris

Almost ten years ago, I attended a reading by David Sedaris. Some unlucky circumstances led me to leave after several hours, before my turn to meet him and get an autograph. Last night, Noah surprised me by taking me to a reading for David’s new book, Calypso. I finally got the autograph and, incidentally, David sort of called me a hooker. Don’t worry, it wasn’t mean or #metoo. For one thing, he’s gay, so I’m certain he wouldn’t have been interested in my services anyway.

You’ll just have to read on for the explanation.

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Why we walked away from foster-to-adopt

More often than not lately, parenting has felt like a delightful surprise. It's not always, of course. Sometimes it's like having an upset feral cat around while I'm trying to do...well, anything. Anything is difficult when you're responsible for an upset feral cat.

When so many good days line up with very few blips, it's easy to remember what makes parenting the best, most challenging yet rewarding responsibility I've ever chosen. It’s also impossible not to think about the time I was a foster parent, about our foster baby, and what might have been.

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