“Does he call you dad? What does he call you?” are questions I often encounter. For as long as I can recall, the idea of fatherhood had always appealed to me. Becoming a foster parent, however, was a clash of expectation and reality. I had envisioned being affectionately called “dad,”…

Trigger Warning: Sexual violence, domestic abuse The intent of this article is to provide a high-level overview of my journey into foster parenting — in case this is something you may be interested in pursuing and what you might expect along the way. …

“When people are financially invested, they want a return. When people are emotionally invested, they want to contribute,” tweeted Simon Sinek, best-selling author of “Leaders Eat Last”. Imagine sitting in a room (or, more relevantly, a ZOOM conference) with nine other team members. It’s a typical Tuesday morning. You’re providing…

My kid’s words caught me off guard. ‘I’m scared of you,’ he said, his lips quivering and eyes brimming with tears. ‘I’m scared you’re going to yell at me or freak out if I do something wrong.’ Scared of me? The thought took me by surprise. Despite the tension, I…

“You’re such a mom,” my kid teases, delving into the snack bag I packed for our road trip. Granola bars, a bit of cake, and some chips — standard fare to fend off the notorious teenage munchies. I took his comment as a badge of honor. Navigating single parenthood often…

Two weeks before my foster kid moved in, I found myself at an adoption event. It was like speed dating, but instead of searching for a soulmate, prospective parents and foster children were being matched. During this quirky meet-and-greet, I clicked with two boys. God had other ideas. The call…

As I’ve often lamented, our home seems like a revolving door, constantly welcoming various Child Protective Services (CPS) personnel — state-mandated agents, placement agency staff, the family attorney, among others involved in my foster child’s case. …

5:50 am “Are you awake? Hello? Are you awake?” I’m pounding on his door, his soothing alarm audible in the background. We have 40 minutes to leave the house — he to the bus station, me to the office. Time is ticking. 6:30 am In the car, we exchange a…

Most days, I relish the role of being a parent. There’s a certain joy in welcoming my child home from school, in the ritual of assembling his lunch while he recounts the events of his day across the breakfast counter. I confess, there’s a part of me that even savors…