My Blog

---

Over the past 39 years, my family and I have opened our hearts and home to countless children through foster care. Some of those stories are filled with laughter, milestones, and unforgettable joy. Others are marked by heartache, hardship, and difficult choices.

Why Share These Stories?
Because foster care is real. It's not always picture-perfect, and it rarely follows a script. But it's worth it. Through the good and the bad, we've seen children grow, heal, and find hope, and we've grown with them.

What You Can Expect in This Section:

• Honest stories from our foster care journey
• The beauty and heartbreak of reunification 
• Challenges raising teens with trauma 
• Moments of connection with children who needed to know they were loved 
• Lessons we've learned—some the hard way 
• And encouragement for those thinking, “Could I do this too?”
   

Foster care isn’t easy. But it changes lives—including yours.

My 100 lb. Toddler Who Slept Sitting Up

Category: Real Life Stories  Tags: foster care trauma, toddler neglect, healing journey, real foster stories, foster parenting challenges

In our years of fostering, there are some children who leave an imprint so deep, you carry their story with you forever. One of those children came to us as a three-year-old boy, but not in the way most would imagine a toddler. He weighed over 100 pounds. At just three years old, he wore a size 10 in clothing. He had never received proper nutrition, and his young body was already struggling under the weight of extreme neglect. We worked with doctors, nutritionists, and therapists. Slowly, with small changes to his meals and routines, his weight began to shift toward a healthier range. We celebrated every pound lost like it was a mile gained toward healing.  But what broke our heart even more wasn’t just the physical signs, it was how he slept. He didn’t know how to lay down. This little boy had never slept in a bed before. The first night he was with us, I tucked him in gently, but he sat straight up, wide-eyed, silent, and confused. He didn’t cry. He didn’t ask questions. He just sat there, as if waiting for something else to happen. That first week, we learned that he would only fall asleep sitting up.

He had spent his life sleeping upright, usually in places no child should find rest—in corners, car seats, or wherever he was left. It took months of patience, love, and routine. At night, we read books. We hummed lullabies. We reassured him, night after night, that he was safe. One night, a few months into into our journey, he laid down all by himself. It was quiet and gentle, no fanfare. But it was one of the most powerful moments of my life. He snuggled his stuffed animal and finally allowed himself to sleep lying down like the child he truly was.

This is the reality of foster care. Behind every intake call is a story we won’t fully understand until the child arrives. There are physical wounds. Emotional scars. Behavioral challenges. But there’s also hope. That little boy didn’t just lose weight he gained trust. He gained safety. He gained the knowledge that someone would show up for him, night after night, until the world didn’t feel so scary anymore.  Not every story is easy. Not every child is ready to trust. But every single one deserves the chance to learn what safety feels like. This little boy did. And we were honored to help him take that first step. 

In the end, about a year later, we found an adoptive home for him where we would go to visit with him. His parents were overjoyed with their new son and he more than thrived in his new environment and excelled in school.  He is now a 30 year old successful executive in the music industry! SUCCESS!

The Never-Ending Return of Babysitters ~OR~ Eight Kids, Three Ducks, One Dog, and Zero Babysitters Remaining

Some families had scrapbooks.
We had police reports.
And the babysitters?
They never stood a chance.

Babysitters came and went faster than pizza delivery.
One by one, they showed up with optimism and left with thousand-yard stares, survivors of a battle they never signed up for.

One of our foster sons, bless his heart, took it upon himself to guarantee no babysitter would ever survive more than a single shift.
His strategies were the stuff of legend:

• Swallowing live frogs in the backyard, visible through the kitchen window, while the younger kids screamed bloody murder inside. 
• Crafting homemade fire torches with aerosol cans, parading through the house like a pint-sized pyromaniac. 
• Shoplifting a BB gun from Walmart and orchestrating a window-shooting spree down the block with his equally fearless friends.
  (Walmart, in an impressive display of corporate wisdom, refused to accept the BB gun’s return.) 

We even tried recruiting babysitters from our church, sweet young souls, armed with faith and innocence.
One girl lasted exactly three hours before calling it quits with a trembling apology:
"Please... don't ever call me again."
We didn’t. (Last we heard, she moved three towns over.)

Another brave sitter put the kids to bed, breathing a sigh of relief, only to find four of them missing twenty minutes later, having launched a full-scale escape through the first and second-story windows.
Cue the frantic call to us during dinner, neighbors switching on porch lights, and the police, who, at this point, practically had their own coffee mugs at our house.

The Fire Department Chronicles

The fire department got to know us pretty well, too.
One afternoon, fire rockets were launched into the trees, an impromptu backyard fireworks show that ended in flashing lights and fire hoses.
Another morning, a well-intentioned daughter tried to make breakfast, set off every fire alarm in the house, and invited another visit from our town’s finest.
Not to be outdone, a second daughter attempted to take a relaxing bath — complete with a scented candle,  and absentmindedly threw a towel on top of the lit candle.
While we enjoyed a barbecue outside, the firemen stormed the front door and raced upstairs to put out the mini inferno just in time.

The Animal Circus

Did I mention we also had eight kids, three ducks, and a dog?
Because chaos alone wasn’t quite enough — we needed a farm.

One unforgettable day, my son decided to toss a baby chick to his little brother — forgetting we also had a dog with an excellent sense of opportunity.
The dog caught the poor chick mid-air.
Moments later, my youngest came barreling down the stairs, cradling the tiny, limp chick with tears in his eyes:
"Mommy, can you fix him?"
(It broke my heart more than I can say. We did everything we could, but miracles have their limits.)

The Neighborhood Watch

Meanwhile, the neighbors watched it all unfold like live theater.
At all hours, I’d get calls:
"Uh, I think you’re missing a couple of kids again. We saw them climbing out the windows."
At some point, it just became part of the neighborhood charm.

Lessons Learned

Yes, these were serious events.
Yes, there were moments of panic, heartbreak, frustration, and exhaustion.
But with time, they became the stories we tell over coffee, over dinner, and over late-night calls with old friends.
Proof that we survived what felt unsurvivable.
Proof that love can thrive even in the messiest, most chaotic places.

We may have lost every babysitter who crossed our threshold, but we never lost our humor, our hope, or each other.

And honestly, that's the kind of victory no babysitter could ever understand anyway.

Have any wild babysitter survival stories of your own? I'd love to hear them in the comments!
(Or: Stay tuned for more Real Talk from the front lines of foster parenting!)

Running a holiday sale or weekly special? Definitely promote it here to get customers excited about getting a sweet deal.

Have you opened a new location, redesigned your shop, or added a new product or service? Don't keep it to yourself, let folks know.