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April 22, 2018

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. 

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