Starting to get a bit pissy about how old this kid is getting without us. I want to add him our family already!
This morning, after I had put Champ into his car seat, I picked Buddy up to buckle him in too giving him a quick kiss as I put him in.
Champ instantly objected.
Champ: “You can’t kiss him!”
Me: “Why not?”
Champ: “Cos you didn’t kiss me. Come around here and give me a kiss!”
Apparently when the boys went to their visit this afternoon their mum asked Champ where his scooter was (she bought it for his birthday, and he takes it along to visits. It was left at home today because it was too hot and visit was going to be at the office instead of the park).
He replied: “It’s at mum’s.”
“At mummy’s house.”
Ouch, that’s got to hurt. I stand by my decision to be called ‘mum’, I think it’s best for the kids, but gee it can’t be nice for her. Sorry.
I thought I would write a note to all the new foster parents out there, especially the single ones, and also to myself with Prince Charming arriving any day, week, or month now.
When the boys first came it was hard. Very hard. Very very very very hard. Without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever done. I was living minute to minute, gasping for breath. I genuinely wondered if I had truly given every aspect of my life up. I didn’t consider quitting, I wouldn’t allow myself to, but I did wonder if I would ever again feel enjoyment in living life. I’m not kidding. It was hard.
It got better. Much better. We found our place with each other, the boys and I. I started breathing again. I found joy.
It gets better.
It gets better.
Repeat after me: It gets better.