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I know this is a big risk for privacy, but there’s no other way to blog about it…

today is Aaron’s birthday.  He is 7 years old and tickled pink.  We are giving him all sorts of hugs, making his favorite cake, his favorite dinner, and he is picking the activities for the day (train museum, here we come!)  He is so HAPPY and honestly, because I was focused on his birthday, I’d forgotten completely the 9/11 anniversary until someone mentioned it at church.

It’s nice to have a joyful distraction.  I love making his day like this – his joy just multiplies through us all.


This morning, I saw a parallel universe, where we weren’t foster parents.

It was after church.  Husband and Little Daughter were mixing up the pancakes in the kitchen, Junior and Big Daughter were playing a game on the floor, laughing with each other, and I was sitting on the couch, nursing Baby.

It was Rockwell-esque.  No trauma, no meetings, no caseworkers, no wacky bioparents.  Just us.

Comfortable, easy, tranquil.

I took a deep breath and enjoyed it.  Then I opened my mind and my ears, and listened for the sound of Aaron and Allie, in the front room, where they were playing with a tape player.  I let them back in to my reality and came back to this universe.

I’ve forgotten completely how it arose, or even what he was actually trying to say, but Aaron reportedly came out of the bathroom and told Husband:

“Guess why I’m real glad I’m a woman!”