Gather round and I'll tell you the tale of the never-ending blanket... It all began last summer, as Thing 1 was preparing to leave for college. I decided to make…
Well, I'm back (sorta)!We had an amazing time on our vacation. But I think my brain may still be there! I cannot seem to get back into the swing of…
We're coming up on the end of 2018 and I've been thinking a lot about all that's happened this year... My oldest daughter graduated from high school in May and…
Fostering is Easy.
My husband and I began our adventure into the crazy world that is the foster care system the end of last year. We received our first placement – a sibling set of newborn twins and a 1 year old – on December 1, 2017. A friend of mine came over about a month later. She and her husband had fostered for a couple of years and we were swapping stories of our limited experiences. (I’d only been at this for a month. She’d already tread these waters and survived to tell the tale.)
Our toddler was in meltdown mode. It was past her nap time and she had an audience… cue the Terrible Two’s. Every toy she saw seemed to require screaming, crying, and arguing about (with no one in particular – an imaginary friend, maybe?) and me, trying to keep her from waking up the babies and have a conversation with my friend, all while maintaining a smile and still trying to keep my home in a somewhat non-pigsty type order. (There are seasoned foster parents laughing hysterically right now at my naivete… I did mention I was only a month in at this point, right?)
My friend then went all sage-ish on me and broke down the foster care system in 7 words. The sentence she spoke was tragic, enlightening, semi-freeing… and incredibly sad.
You don’t have to give her toys.
I looked at her like she’d just informed me she’s dodging the feds and – should I ever need her – she’ll be hiding out in Mexico with her lesbian lover AND she’s not taking her precious baby boy because that’d be too inconvenient. (Yeah, it wasn’t a good look on me.)
Eventually, I got my mouth to form words again: (more…)
Now that my girls are older, I rarely get the opportunity to read children’s books.
Okay, that’s a lie…
On occasion (aka not so occasionally), you can find me sitting in my library/sewing/writing/soon-to-be-bed room reading Dr. Seuss — out loud. (Not sure what it says about me that there’s a room in my house with an identity crisis) (Also, in case you weren’t aware… out loud is the ONLY acceptable way to read a Dr. Seuss book!)
Since my girls are now 17 and 12, there aren’t many children’s books that I’m even willing to read, let alone take the time to re-read over and over again. (Other than Seuss, obviously.)
For a book to achieve such an honor in my currently WAY overloaded schedule, it has got to be phenomenal. To be honest, I would have told you such a book did not exist.
Turns out, I was wrong (again). (more…)
So you don’t know me (yet), but you will.
First off, before you read this…. SPOILERS! (One day, you’re gonna find that funny and pity anyone Who doesn’t get it.)
Right now you’re 18, pregnant, and scared out of your mind (and too proud to admit you have no idea what you’re doing and just how scared you are). Things with the father of the child you’re growing are bad… and they’re only going to get worse. For the first time in your life, all you want is your mother (you’re too proud to admit that too).
You’re about to do something that, a week ago, you would have punched anyone who suggested it… you’re going to ask your mother to take you in. You have it in your head that you’ll move back in and put everything in the past behind you. You’ll finally bond and she’ll be there to talk you through all the hurt, fears, loss and confusion you have right now. You’re clinging on to that picture in your head for dear life because you don’t have anything else to cling to… it’s the only hope you have.
I wish I could tell you that it works out that way, but it doesn’t. (more…)