Sometimes I think maybe we'll stop with the one kiddo we have.
I'm loving the balance of friends, family, and work I have going on right now. (I'm still working on not spending too much time on the internet before bed, but that's another story.) Why upset that, right?
The dream of chaos and multiple kids still lives somewhere. It pops at times I have 3 adorable little boys on my lap, all clamoring for attentions and wanting to read, play, giggle...but there are usually other adults around at the time, so I'm not solely responsible for every child at all.
But then there are times like last night.
We mistakenly gave Nolan too many oranges. After several doctor's visits and too many prescriptions, we discovered that one very good way to keep his recurrent and painful diaper rashes to a minimum is to cut down on the acidic foods he was eating.
Yesterday was too many oranges (He loves them) and screaming when he needed his diaper changed. The kind of screaming that breaks a mama's heart, the kind that makes me want to do anything to make better.
I held him tight and I didn't want to stop, even though he just wanted to read books with Daddy and then go to bed.
That kid really irritated me that night with his scratching and clawing and biting. But then that face and those cries.
I am going to try my best to explain what is happening in my heart because I think it is (slowly) changing the way it needs to to get to being a foster/adoptive mom.
Because sometimes Nolan makes me mad (with the scratching, clawing, biting), so I turn away until I gather my composure. I bite my lip. I'm not perfect, but I don't hit him. I don't physically retaliate. I want the best for him, and that includes teaching him ways to cope other than physically hurting another living being.
As he cried and I tried to make it better, even though his butt hurt so much and I couldn't immediately make it better, I really couldn't help of thinking of all those stories we hear about kids being purposely hurt, the moms who don't turn away, who retaliate way too much. And all the stories we don't hear.
I know I have "a bit" of a savior complex and that's not entirely good, and I know I can't change everything for everyone, but I also know I need to be the mama of just one of those kids. I need to whisper in just one of their ears that they're safe with me, that I love them so, so much, no matter what, always.