I don’t have any bio children of my own, so I’m no stranger to the complex array of emotions that swirl when a friend shares the news of their baby-to-be. Total excitement because babies are wonderful, messy, inspiring little beings that are truly worth celebrating. And worry because change is hard and the friendship we’ve had up to this point will likely never be the same. For either of us.

In my late thirties, my husband and I became foster parents. With zero parenting experience we knew we’d be different. We’d be able to do it all. Be amazing parents and not change any of our relationships pre-kiddos. Riiight. It was exhausting having people over – cleaning the house, having food available that doesn’t dispense from a baby bottle – or packing what felt like our entire home to go to a friends house for a visit only to be completely stressed that our little babes would make a mess of their beautiful baby-free abodes or find themselves in imminent danger because their homes were in no way baby-proofed. And so alas. I got it. It was easier to do neither. Then came the guilt. I was letting people down left and right and was not investing in my friends and family like I always had before; it was killing me and I felt alone.

I also don’t have any human babies, just the furry four-legged ones but have always loved kids. Even as a child in daycare I was caring for the other kids around me and obsessed with all the babies. Today, I am surrounded with littles left and right. I have 9 nieces and nephews as well as many friends with kiddos of their own. As I grow older I realize more and more the value of a community for children and families. But that doesn’t mean me or my home are prepared for kiddos.

In 2022, I was co-hosting our annual Friendsgiving event that my friend usually hosted. Many of our friends’ families had grown since our last Friendsgiving which meant we had exponentially more kids running around. Being a DINK (dual income, no kids), I don’t have kids toys or anything preparing me for what ensued. With the pitter patter of toddlers and big kiddos running a muck and getting into all the things parents, and myself, don’t want them to get into, I locked eyes with Amanda and with a deep breath, shrugged and said, “I only have dog toys”. I had no clue simple things like my lamp (that did end up broken) and my cactus plant shelf would be so enticing to kids – I was stressed all day, and so were my friends.