Short Story: Foster Home

I was sitting in my dreadful History class and got a text message from my mother, "Call me as soon as you can.”

This sent me into immediate panic. Was she hurt? Did she find out about ____? I asked to be excused, and I called my mom. "Hi mumma." "Do you want two little boys?"

"What the hell do you mean do I 'want two little boys '? " I demanded, forgetting that we had been approved as a foster home. "DHHS called. There are two boys who need a placement; they’re two and four." "Mom can we talk about this tomorrow? I have history right now, and my college class tonight." "They would need to be here in 4 hours." I went into a huge panic. Everything went quiet, and I could just hear my rapid heart palpitations. "Mom, I don 't know. This is all too fast. Are you sure you 're ready for two little kids?" I asked worried about her being overwhelmed. "Yes." I could hear her smiling while she said that. Such a simple word, but she was happy. "Let 's do it." My heartbeat slowed down and I smiled. I was on the fence about the answer I chose. I was a Freshman in high school, taking a college class at University of Rockland, trying to fit in and find friends, and trying to figure out who I was. I

Our current child could be here for three more days, or three more years; it’s not made clear. Running a foster home is a constant feeling of floating in the unknown and at the same time it’s waking up at two in the morning to change a diaper, or soothe after a nightmare. Sometimes I go to school or work because it’s less stressful than being at home. It’s learning to be a second parent in running a foster home; it isn’t about my comfort or happiness. It’s about changing a child’s life; creating a safe home for someone who may not have ever known a safe place. I hope it’s enough because all I want to give these kids is something they can hold onto after they leave; because they do leave. And, then, in a few days or weeks, we’ll start all over again with new