Apparently, cupcakes are a pretty big deal to two-year-olds. Well, at least to my Sweet Pea. The first time I saw him eat a cupcake was at his birthday party, which was only a few weeks after he arrived. He enjoyed his birthday cupcake immensely, but he still couldn’t say the word cupcake. It was only when he learned to say it, that I realized just how often his thoughts seemed to be dominated by cupcakes. And I thought I was the only one thinking of cupcakes thirty-seven times a day. We are two sweet peas in a pod.
One morning, on our drive to daycare, Sweet Pea said cupcake over and over again as he looked out the window. I had no idea where he was seeing them. Did I miss a billboard adorned with a giant cupcake? Was someone waiting at a bus stop eating a cupcake? Was he imagining that the clouds were giant, fluffy white cupcakes? I never figured it out.
The random cupcake sightings continued. And then they became requests. What was I to do? I mean, I firmly believe in cupcakes,...
I will start this post with a warning that I occasionally give my boyfriend Tony before I text him.
MUSH ALERT! Read at your own risk. Have gagging spoon handy.
My favorite word that Sweet Pea learned from Todd Parr’s Be Who You Are was HEART. I told him that hearts mean love, so now that’s how he says it. Heartlove. Like it’s one word. Sometimes I tell him what love means, too. That because I love him, I think he’s awesome and special and hilarious and kind, and I will take care of him and protect him. When I tell him these things, he looks at me like I’m a little bit crazy, but I like to believe that in his heartlove, he gets it.
There was a time when I was pretty much ready to give up on love. I mean, I was this close.
Then there was Tony.
Before we even met in person, I decided that it would be a brilliant idea to text him that I was in the process of becoming a foster parent. I figured that every guy’s dream girl was one who could become a parent at any given time, to any given kid...
One warm Friday evening back in October 2017, I went from having zero kids to having an almost-two-year-old. Just like that. I had been preparing to be a foster mom for over a year, and the training was thorough and informative, but, let me tell you, there was nothing that could have truly prepared me for this (beautiful) chaos.
I’m an English teacher, a book nerd, a writer, and a scatterbrain, so while most foster-moms-in-training were probably stocking up on essentials like sippy cups, bibs, and diapers, I was buying this imaginary child books, books, and more books. Books ARE my essentials.
When I got THE call on my drive home from work, I realized that I only had about an hour to prepare for this little sweet pea’s arrival. Naturally, I did what any well-prepared foster mom would do. I called my incredibly patient boyfriend in a panic and asked him to come and finish setting up the crib, and then I put a stack of about twenty-three picture books on the coffee table. Piece of cake.