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I cried the first time I got a B+ on a test in college. I was 18, and I was plagued by a perfectionism I didn’t yet understand. It didn’t matter that it was an advanced biology class or that it was my first test and not my final grade, my frantic need to prove … Continue reading You Know What They Say About Assumptions

I’d been standing in the checkout line at CVS for about five minutes when I realized I had poop on me. I smelled it before I saw it, and, in the absence of anything obvious to wipe it off with, I proceeded to place my items on the counter, pay, and walk home. It had … Continue reading On Parenting a Child with a Child

P wondered aloud the other day if I’ve called the police more in the past few months than in the past few years combined. The truth is, before she moved in, I’d never called the police before. But, as of today, I’ve called 911 twice and the non-emergency number about a dozen times. I sat … Continue reading That’s just not my life.

Someone gifted me a four-pack of paper towels as part of a housewarming gift. That was 11 years ago, and, so far, I’ve only replaced it once. I have margins to care about things like sustainability—it’s one of the luxuries of my middle-class life. So, I recycle and compost and have been purging my daily … Continue reading Sometimes love looks like Styrofoam

I was a pretty adventurous kid. I also got hurt a lot. There’s a correlation there, I’m sure. But no matter the scenario—falling out of a tree or getting hit in the face with a rock: my default reaction was to curl into a ball. To protect myself. To make myself as small as possible … Continue reading Stay Open

I often wonder what my dad would think about my life. About my parenting. About the choices I’ve made or the kids I’ve fostered. I wonder what kind of encouragement he would offer when I’m exhausted and overwhelmed from sitting with someone else’s trauma. I wonder how he would help me celebrate the everyday victories—how … Continue reading They were enough

Have you ever had one of those weeks where you’ve thought: Well, it can’t get worse than this! only to find out it can, indeed, get way wo­­rse? That’s the kind of week I recently had with L. At 9:20 a.m. Monday morning, his school’s number popped up on my phone. I was in a … Continue reading Foster Care + COVID

Since T moved, I’ve done respite a handful of times. I’ve given other foster parents a week or so to regroup. Most of the time it’s been fine. I tell myself I can get through anything for a few days. After all, I survived two and half years navigating life with T. But I wasn’t … Continue reading Remembering to Remember

T moved a year ago, and so much of my life looks different now—in good ways and hard ways and ways I never could have imagined. At times it seems impossible that I raised a traumatized child for two and a half years—like it never even happened. And then there are moments that the reality … Continue reading A Year Later

Dear T, I love you. So, so much. You are, far and away, one of my favorite people in the entire world. But it hasn't always been easy, has it? Thanks for always forgiving me when I mess up. Thanks for extending grace on the days I didn't do everything right. I hope you continue … Continue reading Whisper it if you have to, but shout it if you can