Archive - March 2019

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Purple Day—Our Epilepsy Story
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How To Choose A Baby Name
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Why I Broke My “No Juice For You” Rule
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The 411 on Shingles

Purple Day—Our Epilepsy Story

When our daughter was eight months old she was diagnosed with a chromosome 3P deletion/duplication disorder. Doctors told us to expect some devastating things. Some came true, but thankfully most did not. The one thing they didn’t tell us to expect was seizures—those began when Avery turned three. We were caught completely by surprise.  One afternoon I put Avery down for her nap and when it seemed to last a little longer than usual, I went to check on her. When I stepped inside her room I knew something was wrong. There was vomit on her crib rails, she was blue, and she wasn’t breathing. I scooped her up, limp in my arms and called 911. I must’ve screamed because our son, who was six at the time, had come out from his room and was looking at me with the most fearful eyes.  I said, “Sebastian don’t be afraid, but in a few minutes some fireman are going to come through the door. They’ll help Avery.” I didn’t understand what was happening. I’d never seen her have a seizure. We didn’t know yet that she has epilepsy. I told our son to keep out of the way and that[…]

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How To Choose A Baby Name

One of my daughter’s favourite Education Assistants at school is expecting a baby. This has resulted in great excitement at home and a lot of questions from my daughter. Like, “When are you having another baby, mum?” (Um, when pigs fly.) And, “When can I have a baby?” This one always breaks my heart a little. And, “Is Mrs. R’s baby going to be a boy or a girl?” (We now know the baby is a boy!!) And, “What will we name him?” Notice how she’s inserted herself into the process?  We won’t know the baby’s name until he’s born because they’re keeping it a surprise. Smart move.  When my husband and I were expecting our first baby we had a name reveal party—just for a few close family members including the grandparents and godparents. It was mostly an excuse for a festive get-together. Pregnant women will go to great lengths to have food made for them. We did this later into the pregnancy when we were confident this one was “for real.” Those who have miscarried know what I’m talking about. Somewhere around dessert we shared the boy and girl name options for our soon to be first born. We kept it[…]

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Why I Broke My “No Juice For You” Rule

As a new mom-to-be, I swore my kids would never drink juice or pop or even know the taste of sugar. I absolutely believed that as I rubbed my pregnant belly and made all kinds of rigid proclamations about my future parenting. I also vowed that my babies would be exclusively breastfed until they could talk. But, thanks to birthing two tongue-tied infants, that didn’t quite go as planned. I made loads of rules, including the one stating there would be absolutely no television until school age. Ha! I really wish I could find the photo my husband took of our infant son—bottle propped up by a pillow and tipped toward his mouth, totally fixated on a Baby Einstein DVD while I rocked his bouncy chair with my foot from the couch. You learn quickly as a new parent that plans change. The most successful and relaxed parents are cool to roll with it and they don’t beat themselves up about it. I really did try to limit the amount of sugar in our house, including fruit juice.  But then my daughter started taking anti-seizure medication three times a day and they were horrible. They tasted like chalk dipped in[…]

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The 411 on Shingles

If you think you’re too young to get shingles—think again.  When I took my son to our doctor about a lingering cough, I thought since I was there I’d asked her about seven red weird welts on my hip. I thought they could be spider bites. (Thank you to my brother for putting that horrific thought into my head.) I also wondered if I could be allergic to my new jeans — specifically the dark wash that was dying my skin blue. My husband helpfully suggested the hives could be from “tight pants and all the rubbing.” He paid handsomely for that comment.  I assumed that when I lifted my shirt to expose the rash on my lateral muffin-top the doctor would say, “That? Oh it’s nothing. Just dry skin. Be on your way you adorable little hypochondriac.”  Imagine my surprise when she told me I had SHINGLES! “Are you kidding me?” I gasped. “What am I, eighty?!” Turns out my indignation was misplaced. Apparently the shingles virus is not elderly exclusive. Upon announcing my affliction on Facebook, as one does, I was surprised to learn many of my young-ish peers have also suffered from this painful ailment. One friend told me when she experienced shingles in[…]

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