Foster Further

Spring is really here. The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, my children are outside playing in the dirt every second of the day. I'm getting yard projects crossed off my list, we're having fires outside just because we don't want to come back in the house. Everyone is going to bed with sore muscles and clear minds. And Jane, like a shy flower, is blossoming at last! A few weeks ago she began earnestly "helping" around the house. It's only things that a 4-yr-old can do but she does it all on her own without prompting and is so deeply proud of herself that it's absolutely endearing. I hug her and kiss the top of her head and thank her genuinely. She beams. It's lovely. I love it when she has her own idea instead of copying someone else. I love it when she focuses and completes a task. I love having something to genuinely praise her for. The day she organized all the shoes on the porch into neat pairs nearly made me cry with happiness--finally, a...

I hung up the phone, put my face in my hands, leaned against the kitchen countertop and wept. Waves of emotion rolled over me and flooded my hands, then one tissue after another. I could not stop crying. Relief, joy, surprise, but mainly just relief to be finally getting some good news about something, anything. Gus stood there awkwardly patting my shoulder, totally unsure what to do. Jane came into the kitchen, her internal antenna finely-tuned for drama, bringing her downstairs from where she'd been playing in her bedroom. I tried to pull it together for her sake but could not. Gus tried to explain for me, "Mom is happy. She's crying because Seth got into...a...school. A really good school." A damn good school. His "reach" school already calling to scoop him up in an early admission offer. He hasn't even applied anywhere else. Heck, he hadn't even finished his application for this school! He hadn't submitted his final essay or sent any re...