Fostering memories....

My sister and I have always been very close. We share the common history of our childhood, making her the only person in the world that really "gets" me, and I her. My kids call her Auntie now, but when Greta was a little younger she would sometimes slip and call her Mom. It was an honest mistake, we talk alike, look alike, and ever since Greta was a baby, when I was tapped out by her or she by me, Auntie was there to offer respite, quite like a second mother would.

In early August, a baby was placed in the foster care of my sister. Being a single foster Mom is like mothering on steroids. Added to the everyday (and night) care of an infant are the court ordered visits, the full time job, and the strength it takes to love with her whole heart, not knowing where and with whom the little one will grow up.

Greta finds humane solace in the idea that when a child isn't being cared for properly, someone like her Auntie is there to help.

We had the pleasure of a visit from these lovely ladies this weekend. From soccer games to magical beaches, from pumpkin hunts to just plain lounging around and eating good food, it was delightful, and we can't wait until they come again.