Foster Further

 I had the strangest experience today. In the hundreds of thousands of hours I've spent mulling over foster-adoptive relationships for the past two years, this was a novel thought that had never occurred to me before. We were in the car driving home after I'd picked up the three littlest ones from school. James did something small that did not annoy me one iota today, but which I distinctly remember made me extremely angry a few months ago. Like, lose-my-shit kind of angry. The kind of anger that, even in the moment, you're thinking: whoa, what the hell is THIS?  I remember yelling. I remember his face. I remember feeling terrible. The worst self-loathing that boils in my gut for hours. I also remember that it was one of the last time I got that angry. I can see now, reflecting on the changes over the past few months, that I was finally starting to come out of wherever I've been for the past two years. Why? Why was I so irrationally angry about a tiny typical little kid...