Two Guesses Which Kid Became A Windy Agnostic Republican

Yes, the Partridge girl looking one with the white pleather go-go boots , medallion, page boy cut, and ruffled bohemian collar. Go ahead click on it to get a closer look. I'll wait. Oh, this pic I found between pages of a high school yearbook brings back memories...

This was taken in the years when my family fostered in the 70's . The little boy on the far left next to my brother is Jimmy. We tried to adopt him. Social services said we had a fine amount of kids to foster, but not adopt. He was severely abused by his mother (starved, locked in closets abuse) and after living with us for two years, was finally placed in a "suitable" home with a Contra Costa sheriff who was a closet alcoholic and physically abused him. He came to see my mom as soon as he turned 18 and yes, he called her "Mom." Jimmy was a great older brother and I loved him so much. People said we looked alike. He was blond and fair like me in a family of dark hair and olive skin.

Yes, this is the same brother I wrote about in posts before:

"Maybe, after our gorgeous duck that my brother and foster brother naively tried to make fly with clipped wings, had it's legs cruelly and compound-ly fractured, there was some effect. My sister compassionately gave the poor thing Popsicle stick splints. In the end, said brothers were forced to slaughter said pet duck with ax as punishment, but 7 year-olds don't do a very good job and only tortured the duck so much more. Yep, forced to eat said protein. "

Yep, maybe there were other reasons that Jimmy couldn't be adopted by us...

In my mother's arms is Kevin. My mother had him from two days old until 18 months. He'd been abandoned. He was her baby, but we weren't the right color to adopt him even though it was the only home he'd ever had. They placed him in another home--a black home. It seemed a good home (two Berkeley professors) and my mother was allowed to visit Kevin a few months later. Kevin immediately screamed, "Mama," and my mother was never allowed visitation of her baby again. Kevin was my baby too.

Overall, my parents fostered over 26 kids, most with histories of physical, emotional, or sexual abuse. It was a time in my parents' life when they wanted to have the big Mormon family and seemed destined to have only four. These kids were broken and came with a cacophony of need and behavior problems that overwhelmed any needs of the existing kids. Near the end of fostering, my two littlest sisters were born. (edited)

And that cute dog? Strawberry? One of many dogs I became attached to that eventually became inconvenient and(edited) dumped...

I am just coming to the realization what a roller coaster by early childhood was. The later years where I rejected my family's religion, most of their values, and joined the Army to pay my way through school because Berkeley wasn't good enough--only BYU would do--were pretty bad, but the early one's had their own set of tragedies as well.

'lisciously scribed by Scout's Honor @ 9:19 AM