Twenty-three years ago, my daughter had just turned 19, and I got hit with a bad case of empty nest syndrome. My big house felt suddenly lonely, and after decades of working at a bank in a role that felt increasingly impersonal, I wanted a change. I had a client who fostered, and I thought, Well, why not try it, at least for a bit" I?d been thinking it was time to leave my job anyway, and I?d never had the chance to be a stay-at-home mom. So I did it. I retired on a Friday, and the following Monday, my first family of kids arrived.

I had no idea this world existed. I was brought up with Happy Days and family and friends and camping and activities. I quickly got an education in what life was like for these kids, who arrived at my door with a truckload of trauma. It was truly shocking at first. Nowadays, foster parents get hours and hours of training and education before taking in kids, but back then there was hardly any instruction (not that you can ever truly be prepared!). My home was suddenly chaos, with kids throwing things, breaking things and stealing things, and it was all incredibly overwhelming. They wouldn?t sleep?and neither did I. There were a lot of tears. I was terrified that I was doing something wrong, that I was causing more damage to these kids, that I wasn?t the foster parent they needed. One day, I reached out to my resource worker, who said, ?Oh, this is all very normal! This is what you can expect now.? That stabilized me. A...