Welcome back to Taylor Talks!
The other day, I wrote about my only memory of the day I became a big sister for the first time. Today, I thought I would talk about the part that I do remember; the children who made me a big sister.
The other day, I wrote about my only memory of the day I became a big sister for the first time. Today, I thought I would talk about the part that I do remember; the children who made me a big sister.
When my parents and I thought we were going to get a foster child for the first time, that’s exactly what we thought: we were going to get a child. What did we actually get? Two children. An eighteen-month-old girl and her newborn brother. Back then, when I was three years old, the laws were different. Today, a child can only stay with their foster family for a year, possibly a little longer if the judge grants an extension (for example, if a parent is almost done with parenting classes but needs a month or two longer before they can get their child back). When I had my first foster siblings, they lived with my family for two years.
Two years is a really long time, especially when you’e a little kid. All I knew in life was my little brother and sister. But when I was five years old, I had my entire world shattered when they were taken away from our family and returned to their biological father. It was extremely hard to lose a brother and sister for the first time. I mean, it has been hard every time it happens, but the first time was especially rough. I was suddenly an only child again, and while I no longer had to share my toys, I longed for the company of my siblings again. It was so hard to lose my brother and sister that we seriously considered not doing foster care anymore. But it was a good thing we did keep going, because the very next child that was placed with us was the first of my siblings to be adopted.
I’d greatly appreciate it if you would share this blog with friends and family through your favorite social media sites. If you’re sharing on Twitter, don’t forget to tag me (@TayTayK02) and use the hashtag #TaylorTalks.
Thanks!
Taylor
Two years is a really long time, especially when you’e a little kid. All I knew in life was my little brother and sister. But when I was five years old, I had my entire world shattered when they were taken away from our family and returned to their biological father. It was extremely hard to lose a brother and sister for the first time. I mean, it has been hard every time it happens, but the first time was especially rough. I was suddenly an only child again, and while I no longer had to share my toys, I longed for the company of my siblings again. It was so hard to lose my brother and sister that we seriously considered not doing foster care anymore. But it was a good thing we did keep going, because the very next child that was placed with us was the first of my siblings to be adopted.
I’d greatly appreciate it if you would share this blog with friends and family through your favorite social media sites. If you’re sharing on Twitter, don’t forget to tag me (@TayTayK02) and use the hashtag #TaylorTalks.
Thanks!
Taylor
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