This summer, I joked with some friends, "I think I'm ready to be a mom again." My husband and I have raised 3 good kids, we've survived the bumps in the road, and I'm a lot smarter now. I kind of feel like I know what I'm doing. In my imagination, I'd bring home a new baby and would know all the right things to do. No more guessing, no more fretting and hoping for the best. I wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
Three weeks ago, the call came. Could we take in two little girls? We hesitated for maybe 10 minutes before saying yes.
And now, my wish has come true. I am a mom to young ones again; a first grader and fifth grader.
And guess what? I'm still not sure about what I'm doing. This is a different kind of parenting. Fostering children is not like raising my own children. I find myself still fretting and hoping for the best.
And so we go at it again. We will make decisions the best we can. We will still worry. We will laugh and we will hold them and love them while they are with us.
I am a mom to young children again.
|The sandwich assembly line that comes with making lunch for 7 people.|