Life cycle of a foster case
Did you hear we have a new placement? My goodness, I thought there would be more problems associated with something like this…
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foster-to-adopt
Toasters and coasters and give us this day
We have been ferried up, up, up the excruciating climb, full of dread and horror. Now we creep over the edge and hang poised.
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In which I attempt to love my enemy
How do you work closely with people you distrust, for days and months on end? What if your generosity is enabling them to keep failing? Or, God forbid, to succeed?
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In which I arise today
This is the stage that all of Shari’s thinking blog readers have been dreading for years, when her humor and good sense desert her and she disintegrates into dramatic, navel-gazing grief for weeks on end.
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Advent
The point of Christmas is that Christ entered. Here. He is the last person in the world to be upset with a mess, or rattled by the unforeseen. He is acquainted with grief.
When I am stressed, I bake
Here, baby, watch me blend the ingredients
When I am done, lick the cookie dough spoon
For when I am stressed I bake, I bake
And when I am stressed, I bake.
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A theoretical date with George
This post is not a confession. I ought to have one blog on which to confess and one on which to brag. But you wouldn’t read the brag blog, would you? Oh that’s right, you would–you already read fifty others. Sigh. You’ll just have to put up with the occasional non-confession from the Confessions girl.
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There’s going to be a baby
(Maybe.) ***** I do not know if you will be a boy or a girl. I do not know if your skin will be black or white, or something in between. I do not know if you will be an infant or already grown into a toddler. I do not know if you will come
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