As I sit at my kitchen table watching three kids fight over the last of the milk, I wonder how in the world did I get here. I didn’t have these kids, or adopt them. I only have one and yet I’m taking care of three extra kids. I treat them as though they were my own. This frightens me. More than raising my own son, who I am not so frightened about raising. I think it might have to do with the idea that if I mess up I will be letting down not only the three children but also their parents, if they were around.
Thus my question how did I get stuck?
I didn’t set out on this journey, nor did I ask for it.
All I wanted out of life was to move to Europe and live as some kind of artist. Naive, I know. It was just my dream. Still is, and I’m working very hard to make it happen even if the odds are working against me. Even if my husband is neutral on the idea.
I am hoping that today will give me some kind of insight into the future, that I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I just hope that it is not a narrow view, that the light is brighter and closer.
Other wise I just might lose my mind!