"You Know They Grow Up, Right?"

When I tell people I am a foster parent because I LOVE BABIES, I will often get the snide remark:

"You know they grow up, right?"

As if this was a new revelation.

Listen, I've been a parent for half of my life.  I never once looked at Tiernen and wished she would revert to another age.  I fully enjoyed each and every age she was.  She was a gorgeous baby and toddler.  She was a spunky kid who would tell adults, "I don't like your attitude."  She was and is smart and funny and unique and artistic.  At 23, I don't wish she was a baby again.  I'm glad she is in graduate school, got her BA in four years (with under $10K student debt, I might add).  I'm proud that she buys her cars for cash and makes practical financial decisions.  She drinks responsibly and has nice friends.  She's never been on drugs and has never come home pregnant.  

Is she perfect?  No, of course not, and I hate parents who fall into the "not MY child" cloud of parental ignorance.  

I see her for who and what she is, the good and the bad.  She's shitty at math and often has an attitude with me I think she shouldn't have.  But she isn't a bad kid.  And I certainly don't look at baby pics of her and wish she were little again.  I enjoyed it then.  I enjoy her now.

But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy babies.  A lot.

And no, I don't want to be a grandmother.  At least not any time in the near future.  Maybe at 60?  Maybe never?  I guess Tiernen decides that.  But I will still love babies.

I figured fostering was a perfect solution for this baby mania.  Because yes, babies grow up, but foster babies also don't stay.  They are with you, and even though it sucks, they leave.  

And then, if you are lucky, you get another one.  And you do it all over again.  

Babies forever!  You can be kept in a perpetual state of diapers and midnight feedings and tiny clothes.  

This is torture to some people, but I love it.

Bring them on.