Even Being Black Cant Save You From Everything

I quite dislike phone calls. I dont mind in the office. The phone rarely rings more than once there. I usually enjoy that patient interaction because most of the time they appreciate I am trying to help. I dont even mind calling several numbers for one solution at work. But that is my work life. In my personal life I feel my skin crawl when the phone rings or when I see I have a missed call. I understand why I feel this way but it does not change it.

Today was one of those days. In my world there are many children. Ones that arent so young anymore. The first would be 11 now. She was my world. That is how life is when you have foster siblings. You expect to come home to children you dont know. You love people before you know anything about them. But it does break my heart somedays. Today is one of those days too. I really only know 3 of 4 because the last is too new for my knowledge it seems. But those three babies could be my world. I love the way they smile and hug me and will decide my room is the room to watch movies in and play in even though I want to get ready in it. I love that they dont live with us but every single time they come over it is like they never left. But it makes every part of me ache knowing that they dont have everything. That they werent born into the life I was. That the care they get with me isnt the same as what they have on a regular basis. It isnt their fault. Today, for once, there was an intervention. My babies cant stay at home right now. And I dont have the means or my own home to take all four of them, or I would. I offered up my room so two of them could live with us. They may not. But it sure hurts to know that they might have to live with someone else, and that someone probably wont ever be able to love them the way we do.

I guess I get too attached. I cant help it. I dont know how to not love. I dont know how to let the children into my life and not forevermore think of them as part of the family. We have a large family these days, mum must have at least 50 kids now. No wonder she worries so much.

So I dont know if I will get to have even a couple of them live with me again or if that chapter is over. I am not sure if this will just be a few days or a few months. Sometimes it takes awhile for life to sort itself out. All I know is that today will  be a hard day for 4 children that I love very much.

Gangsters and Blizzards

Enter. A little black man appearing to be 7 years of age wearing a Lakers flatbrim snap-back along with a diamond stud.

I dont know how you are supposed to react when you see that your previous foster brother who is now three years of age looks like a gangster. Thug life forever.

I couldnt believe how tall him and his sister are. I remember holding them as babies, they have been around our home a lot over the past five years, and now they are huge. She is up to my chest now at 5 years of age, I mean I am pretty average in size but having a 5 year old more than half my height.. it's a little disheartening.

And that was only the beginning. The storm began the next day and being snowed in seemed logical. The tang came out and snowcones were made from the ever drifting snow. Only to be followed by a 645 true wake up of pushing a car out of the gridlock of snow.

I forgot so much when I left. Not once did my snow dreams involve shoveling over and over again or pushing cars or being blinded by the whipping snow while running for a door. Nor they did involve my little babies turning into thugs. Life really has a way of reminding me what is real. And reality is that even blizzards dont mean actual days off in this land. And this land is my land. *chestpound* Peace.