The road to dog rescue is paved with the 3 Bs: Bugs, Barf, and Bites, and I’ve had my share of them all. Date night with Karen is less likely to involve a romantic dinner and more likely to involve detonating flea bombs in my car to eliminate party favors left by a recent transport.
Category: Foster Parenting
My Sweet Child, We are finding ourselves once again in a familiar dance. The catalyst being the bruising of your tender places and the grand finale undoubtedly containing quite the bang. When you were young, I would sit in the middle of your room as you spiraled and raged around me. Silent and still, just sitting…waiting.
I have officially been a foster mom for an entire year. In that year I have learned many valuable lessons that I would like to share with you here. In addition, I have included a section written by my 15-year-old foster son. He has been in homes other than mine, and has used his life
Life, it sure has a way of slapping you in the face on a random Wednesday. Let me set the scene for you. I was a hot mess, lying in bed because I was home sick with a terrible stomach ache, and the phone rang. The number did not look familiar so I ignored it.
A little over eight months ago I became a foster parent at the age of 28. When I started the fostering process I was nearly positive that I would end up fostering a younger child. A few weeks before submitting my final piece of paperwork I decided I would offer to foster teens as well.