Do I sound EMO?

I keep getting texts/messages/calls/emails about how people are praying for me and thinking about me.  And it’s leading me to wonder, do I sound so emo in these last few posts?  Cause, I mean, I’m not depressed.

So I’ll talk about something else besides adoption and foster parenting and motherhood today.

Inspired by The Daybook, I’ll do my own awkward & awesome post.


honestly, if this isn’t the most awkward picture you’ve seen, i don’t know what is…

The Awkward

–When we went to the playground with two (black) foster kids.  When it was time to leave little girl threw a big fit and the husband picked her up to take her to the car.  I’m pretty sure people thought we were kidnapping little children.

–When I was explaining the new seating charts to the students in my class (we’re doing a team approach) I said, “I had a hashtag genius idea this week…” and everyone groaned and said I was being an idiot.  Do 7th graders not say hashtags?? I thought I was cool!

–I made banana ice cream for foster kids and this family that came over for a playdate this week.  Kiddies loved it.  The adults thought it tasted like baby food.  And I don’t disagree.

The Awesome

–Actually being a mom for a second.  FYI, I loved it.

–I scored some awesome fabric for my new-to-be-made pillows I’ve got in the works for the bedroom redo.  Thanks to anyone who bought something from my instasale!  I now had a few dollas to make up a big enough budget to do something. (And yes, I feel more than slightly guilty that the monies didn’t go to Africa this time.  But more on that later.)

–I went back to the library and checked out the second book in The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer.  I feel so ashamed to say that I’m loving a book about cyborgs, but I really do.  It’s such a fun read.


4 thoughts on “Do I sound EMO?

  1. Child of a different race throwing a fit? Check. When we were first visiting with our kids, we brought them to our house on weekends from their foster home. We had several episodes where our future daughter (whose birth mom, unknown to us, the foster mom and the social workers, was telling her that we were bad and dangerous people) hung shrieking onto a fire hydrant and couldn’t be coaxed or prodded to get into our car. People on the street corner were not impressed. We feel lucky that no one took aggressive action against us.

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