House Arrest (25 page)

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This is one of those circumstances where the Acknowledgments word count could easily outnumber the actual word count of the book, but I will endeavor to keep it short.

To Ammi-Joan Paquette, Virginia Euwer Wolff, and Tamra Tuller—you brought Timothy and Levi to life. I couldn't have done any of this without you. Thank you. And to everyone at Chronicle—
a million high fives for being so darn supportive. I often wonder if I'm the most fortunate author in the whole universe.

To Tracy, Annie, and Chris, thank you for your professional
expertise.
I am amazed and awed every day by people who work
in the juvenile justice system and with Child Protective Services. You are heroes.

To Sam Mirrop, a king among men, a leader among doctors, and the best Tigger impersonator I've ever met, here's to no more Letters of Medical Necessity.

To Anne, Michelle, and Delicia, thank you for your years of loving hard work. When a mother learns she's going to have to share her baby with in-home nurses it's kind of hard to accept, but
you all became part of our family. Thank you for being nothing
like Mary.

To everyone on our aerodigestive team at Cincinnati Children's
Hospital, and especially to the nurses in the Complex Airway ICU and step-down unit—you made a difficult time so much easier. You are amazing, and you saved our lives in more ways than one.

There are not enough thanks in the world for Don and Carole, Rose Marie and Ken, Julie and Chris, Sharon and Adam, all my mamas who circled the wagons when we needed it most, and of course to Amy, who saved me a thousand times just by making
me laugh (and making me eat). I love you all more than you can ever know.

Big hugs and loving noogies to Sam and Georgia for having been through so much, but with such empathy and triumph. And to my husband, Steven—we didn't realize the whole “for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health” thing would be quite so literal, did we? And yet we did it. Are doing it. Hand in hand.

Immeasurable gratitude goes to Dr. Robin T. Cotton, who,
after five years of complex surgical procedures, including completely
reconstructing my son's trachea, said to us, “Thank you for letting me help you,” when my son was deemed healthy enough to be released from his care.

And to my sweet Isaac—it was a hard road, kid, and you never stopped smiling. You still haven't. I love you, little dude. With all my heart and then some.

About The Author

K.A.
H
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l
t
has kept a lot of journals
but none of them court-ordered
(at least not yet).

She is the mother of three,
a lover of breakfast tacos,
and a sucker for poetry
of any kind.

Her most favorite thing in the world,
other than embarrassing her kids,
is to write books
that may or may not
embarrass imaginary kids.

Kari lives in Austin, Texas.
Her journal has a lot of entries
about sweating.