Usually I can spend a mere two to three hours with my niece and nephew to realize that kids aren't in the cards for me. . .yet. I'm not ruling them out as a possibility, but when I start to imagine grand world trips, I know where my heart is leaning. One or none at this point, people.
Then I read delightful little stories that we pass off as news and become even more scared and horrified. First there's the woman that used her child as an object to beat her boyfriend with. I've been exceptionally mad at Patrick, but I'd like to think that my baby wouldn't be used as a bat. Maybe that's just me. But the possibility still is out there enough to scare me.
Then there's the foster mother that's trying to give her child back. She adopted him and now wants to unadopt him. Apparently he had an extensive history of abuse, mental health problems and suicide attempts that the STATE NEVER TOLD HER.
I understand that a child has a right to privacy, but when he is a threat to others and this woman spends her life adopting foster children, then something needs to be said. She only found out any of it because as a 12 year old, he sexually molested a 6 year old and 2 year old. While taking him to his trial, a caseworker showed her his file. That's just not cool and yet another reason while I don't have the patience or sainthood needed for foster kids.
So, basically, the media is starting to scare women sterile. They better be careful before we all catch on.
Well, I must now go home to change clothes for an event I totally forgot about. Monday night events are like that. You have so much focused on the weekend that when someone says "Are you excited about tonight?" and you draw a blank, you know your weekend was good. Mine was fabulous. I drove up to Greyskull, hung out with He-Man and She-Ra, Precious and Mr. Precious, and Swampy and Swampette. I only wish Chef could've rounded out the bunch.
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