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When Luca was 8, we took him to the gay pride parade, and he was like, “I’m not gay, I’m hungry, and I don’t want to be here.” I know it all sounds pretty hip, but we’re just like any other family.I’m the control freak, and Chris is the disciplinarian.It looks like Americans are headed in that direction, with kids moving home after college and grandparents moving into their children’s places instead of retirement communities.
My older daughter, Mischa, is in kindergarten, and though it’s sometimes tough for my sister to make the block-long walk, she’s out there to greet her niece at the bus stop in the afternoon as often as she can.
She also comes up with little games to get the girls to eat healthy dinners and makes sure they know it’s okay to color outside the lines.
I never could’ve predicted that this would be my path; while my feelings about motherhood are steadfast, my thoughts on our arrangement depend on the day.
Sometimes it feels pretty ideal—because I have so many hands on deck, I get to have a mom’s night out or work in the evenings and not scramble for a babysitter.
Amazingly, it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable—probably because we’d known each other so long.
And it didn’t hurt that Curt has a fabulous eye for decoration.That’s how we got our son, Luca, who was born in Ethiopia.Now five of us live in the same happy, chaotic three-bedroom apartment.(Although there were some disagreements about which diapers to choose and whether organic baby food was really healthier.) Two years later, we tried for another baby, but I had two miscarriages.It was just too emotionally painful, so we all agreed we’d adopt.Other days, it feels like the most confining thing I could fathom—three adult women living in very close quarters.I’ll call my girlfriends to chat while I’m waiting at the car wash because that’s a rare moment of privacy.I’d always been very committed to becoming a mom someday; I’d created my own business and developed a flexible schedule based largely on that objective.So when I said goodbye to my fiancé at 30, I decided that if I hadn’t met somebody I wanted to have a family with by 37, I’d go for it another way. At the same time, my parents were having marital troubles, and I wanted to encourage my mom to create some distance from her marriage.Not the traditional way—we did artificial insemination DIY-style, with help from a sterilized measuring cup, a homemade ovulation calendar, and a turkey baster.After three months of trying, I got pregnant in August 2001.