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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All about Harry, part 3: His surgery, the recovery, and the end of summer

The hospital called the afternoon before to give us our arrival time: 6am. Good. First surgery of the day, no anxious waiting around, no time for anxiety bowels. My parents came over at 5:30, my dad to stay until the big boys woke up, my mom to ride with us to the hospital. 

And little Harry, absolutely no clue what he was about to experience.

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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 2: his arrival on planet Earth

When we last left off, I was on an oxytocin drip and having contractions. Still, after a few hours, I hadn't progressed much beyond where I was to begin with. I wasn't surprised, because with both Ethan and Oliver, the labor was slow until the breaking of the bag of waters.

I had to wait for my doctor until almost 4:30 to break my water, because he was delivering some other lady's baby. Ugh, people, amiright?

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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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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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Six months: Reflections on life without Debbie

On our way home after the reception, I felt crummy. Minutes after walking through the door, I was hit with chills and a high fever. I had an infection that I'm convinced took hold after the release of stress and tension culminating at the memorial service.

Since then, I do think of Debbie often, but not in the all-consuming way of those first few months. It's actually been six months today.

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