Sometimes it’s hard not to be angry

I love doing therapeutic foster care. Even when I feel like I want to pull out my hair with three teenage boys visiting the house, I love it. Sometimes though the minutae slips away and I am angry at people and the damage they have done to their children. Angry. And I know we all have demons and some parents have lived impossible lives themselves. And I’m usually good at living in the moment, and dealing with whatever comes up. And it’s just not my job to judge. Still, sometimes I feel angry.

Children should never have legs broken by their parents, or be so severely neglected that their developmental delays may never be overcome.  And drugs and alcohol and all the following ramifications. And abuse of all types, and neglect, and pain and hurt. And an education system that treats kids like they need special ed, or a medical profession that medicates everything, in the exact same way. And the stigma of foster care. It’s really too much.

And the kids? They’re awesome. They really are. Resilient and strong and broken and amazing. Really. You should all be in awe. And humbled.  And I want to pick up the broken pieces and tape it all up until it’s good as new.  But I can’t. I’ll help though. And my house is here when foster parents need a little break, and my house is safe. It’s not much of a house, but there is food and laughter. And a Wii.

So hug your kids if you have them. And know that we are part of many families in our lives and biology isn’t everything….  It’s a huge part of who you are and where you came from but it’s not everything.

And love? It is the most amazing thing. We have an infinite capacity.

Mara ~ whose ‘kids’ are giving her more than she could ever give them.