So, if you read yesterday’s blog you know K and I are visiting family this week. First stop – Michigan! We are at my sister’s house in a cute little home overlooking the woods. This isn’t the sister with the curly hair; this is my other sister, the therapist sister. The one who spends her working life in counseling sessions and when she isn’t counseling others, she is studying, learning and reading, honing her craft, getting better professionally.

Sis has worked in the mental health field for twenty odd years and has seen it all. She isn’t an adoption specialist, but happens to work with all sides of the adoption triad in her practice. She listens and occasionally dispenses advice to parents and teenagers on issues like attachment and ODD. She is always concerned about children, wanting to look out for them and keep them safe.

This is the same sister that when I first told her I was going to adopt through foster care, she sent me the books, Primal Wound, and Holding Time.
My sister is highly intuitive and cares deeply for the welfare of children. We have a mutual respect and understanding, and often see different sides of an issue. As a foster-adopt parent, I’m in the throes of trying to live a normal life with whatever kids may come into my home. We’ve talked about how kids lie, or make up stories, or how sometimes the parents don’t know how to parent. That the foster kids sometimes make up stories thinking they’ll get to go back home. Sis always sees the biggest picture and tries to keep a spiritual perspective when we talk.

Tonight we are all are hanging out, having a good time eating guacamole and laughing while I put PJ’s on K. Sis notices a Pooh Band Aid on K’s knee.

Sis: “What is that?’ Sis asks gently.

K: “My Band Aid”

Sis: “But what happened to your knee?”

K: “My Mom did that.” K looks at me, almost starts crying.

Sis: “What?”

Me: “What?”

Sis: (Looking concerned, going immediately into therapist mode). “What happened honey, what did mom do?” (not accusing me at all, just trying to get information)

K: smiling, “Mom put the Band Aid on.”

Sis and I laugh. Sometimes a kid is just a kid, a Band Aid is just that, and the kids are just fine. And that’s just how its supposed to be.