I honestly thought that having a younger brother and sister would be fun. I was dead wrong.
When the foster kids arrived, they were quiet and cute... for the first five minutes once they stepped foot into my house.
Taylor is the cutest because she's 1 year old, she has chubby cheeks, and just overall cute. But since she's a baby, she needs a lot of taking care of. Tyrone, on the other hand, is a 3 year old and probably needs a whole freaking police force to take care of him. He is cute, don't get me wrong, but he is really stubborn. I guess that's what growing up in a foster home does to you. He thinks everything is his, and would say no to every single thing we ask him.
"Do you want juice?" No.
"Do you want to watch tv?" No.
"Do you want to go to food?" No.
"Do you want to balance this chemical equation that requires figuring out the quantum mechanic function of the reaction?" Yes.
I feel like I'm the one who is taking care of him the most even though I don't want to. I'm only 16 for crying out loud! I cannot take care of babies when I still feel like a baby myself since I'm the youngest in the family.
I just feel so overwhelmed by how so many things changed within a day and a half. Hopefully, things will simmer down. Hopefully.
Yeeah, I just jinxed that.