We were sitting in a park in my hometown, watching a merry batch of seven-year-old girls throwing softballs to each other and then chasing the errant balls down like kittens with string. One girl put her helmet on backwards. Another drew in the sand by third base, oblivious to the girl at bat. My husband and I giggled to each other in between our cheerful waves at a girl with a bright pink mitt. How did we get here so quickly?
Two days ago, I had planned to spend the evening streaming some of my favorite shows and drinking a glass of wine. The evening would be relaxing and low-key. Then, I got a phone call, and three hours later I was showing my first foster kiddo around my house. A day later, I’m sitting at a park with my husband at T-Ball practice.
That’s right. One minute, I’m thinking wine. The next, I have T-ball practices, T-ball games, and swimming lessons scheduled. As one friend put it, suddenly I’m seven years into parenting, starting yesterday, except I’m a complete novice. Life changes that quickly.
Our foster kiddo seems to be settling in fairly well. She’s sweet, and we plan to enjoy however much time we have with her.