J.C., the sweet angelic boy I wrote about last time, lived with us along with his sister for 16 months until they were reunified with their parents. During the time we fostered them, J.C. refused to go on the “big boy potty.” Try as we might, nothing worked. Bribes, sinking cereal, promises of great presents and the potty dance all left him amused, and us …Click here to continue reading
I’ve been asked many times why I chose to foster. My answer is simple. I didn’t. It chose me.
Sitting at a meeting one hot August night, I found myself accosted by a 2-year-old boy with an angelic face who promptly jumped into my lap, buried his sweaty little head in my chest and sat there for the entire two-hour meeting. When the meeting ended, I looked at his presumed parents and playfully asked …Continue reading this post