Where the Rubber Meets the Road

Sometimes our principles and ideals are put to test. This past January I found out exactly where the rubber meets the road, I had to put my money where my mouth is, show and prove and every other cliche you can think of.

Put up or shut up.

So my nephew and his girlfriend both suddenly became unavailable to parent their child. The reasons are not all that uncommon, but suddenly I was faced with a decision. Either take the kid myself or let him go off into foster care.

I know there are a lot of good foster parents and homes out there. But there are quite a few that are not so good either. And the idea of sending a kid off to total strangers didn't sit well with us either. My mother and I.

But my life is so different from when I began this blog. Then I had Ye Old Matey and Little Arabella and the double duo Mighty Mutts. Now, Ye Old Matey is Ye Ex Matey. Little Arabella isn't even College Arabella. She's Grown Up Living In New York with her Lesbian Girlfriend Arabella. The Mighty Mutts are both dead.

I'm back home with my mother.

I went back to school and finished an Associate's Degree and an internship. I've made several career moves since then and I finally landed a job that seems to be lasting.

The last thing I expected to be doing at this point was raising a toddler. But who am I to claim that "children need homes" and deny my own family? So, here I am, typing with a two-year-old at my knee.

It's where the rubber training pants meets the road. I hope I'm up to the challenge. Again.

Round two.

Ding ding.