“Mommy! Mommy! It’s my birthday!”
The little girl hopped out of her foster mother’s van and ran to her biological mom, curls bouncing behind her. Her mom embraced her and gave her a kiss.
“I know baby girl. Happy birthday!” The little girl squirmed out of her arms and marched inside to her dad.
“It’s my birthday! It’s my birthday! I’m going to get presents! I’m going to get cake!” she sang.
“Oh…I don’t think we have cake today,” her mom trailed off. “But you do have presents!”
The little girl stopped marching. She planted her fists on her hips and rolled her eyes.
Continue reading “Touching Lives with Birthday Cake”
Have you seen those giant, Valentine’s Day teddy bears?
They’re huge, like 4 feet high just sitting. If you stretched out their legs, they would probably be life size. You could use one as a mattress. You wouldn’t even have to buy bedding because most of them come with a velvet heart pillow sewn between the paws.
Continue reading “What Kids See in Giant Teddy Bears”
This kid is a tornado.
From the moment our little foster boy had leaped through our door, he had not stopped. Running, talking, playing, laughing, spinning, dancing, yelling, crashing, crying, pooping (that is another story); the kid did not run out of energy. We called him the energizer bunny. He kept going and going and going and going…
Continue reading “The Kid Who Copied Love”
Memories have a way of finding me suddenly, off-guard, and all at once.
Like a free children’s book that arrives in the mail one day, reminding me of little girls who used to live with my family.
The book was one of their favorites. They would ask me to read it to them over and over and over and over and over and over…
I got pretty good at using different voices while reading in order to make it interesting (for myself). They never got tired of the book. Even when I picked out other books to read, one of the girls would go find that book to add to the pile.
When I read the book, the older girl would “read” it along with me. Her little voice would mumble along until we got to the repeated “No!” parts, which she would pronounce loud and clear. She knew if I skipped over any parts and would remind me to read everything on the page.
I made sure she had her own copy of the book when she left our foster home. It put a smile on my face knowing that she would have her favorite book at her new home. Hopefully, it put a smile on her face too.
And hopefully her mother can forgive me for including a book that she has had to read over and over and over again!
Babies are like puppies.
They both come over to where you are cleaning and try to lick their own puke.
Maybe sometimes, despite your yelling and snatching them away, they are still successful in getting a taste test.
Now I am gagging.
Jeggings don’t make anyone look good; let’s just be honest.
But they especially don’t flatter babies with full diapers.
Moms, please, spare your children.
“Are you playing with fried chicken?”
My little sister nods, flailing the plastic drumstick in my face. “Bawk-bawk.”
“No, that’s the sound chickens make. This is ‘chicken’.” I reply. She nods.
“Bawk-bawk?” she asks, handing it to me.
“Sure, I’d love a bite of bawk-bawk. Thanks.”