"Don't mess with my kids, ya schmuck!"

In September, My mom and I went to a party/barbecue/hangout-in-the-pool-day at her friends' house.
Because my Dad couldn't come, I got to sit at the grown-up table!
I am 22 years old, and I act like a kid on Christmas whenever I get to sit at the grown-up table, it's such a rarity. (My sister was at the party too, and I love her, but she doesn't count because she had to sit at the kids' table.)
So we're sitting at the grown-up table and they started asking me about my upcoming trip to Tanzania.
Oh my gosh, I just remembered there was Port Wine cheese at this party, AAH I LOVE Port Wine cheese!
Sorry, I'm hungry.
So we were talking about Africa, and then the grown-ups started making bets on whether or not I'd ever come home.
Mr. and Mrs. Mistretta said I would come home, but then come back to Africa.
Mr. Koch said I would come home, but it would be with an African baby.
Mr. Susich said I was never coming home.
Mrs. Koch, Mrs. Susich, and my mom said I was definitely coming home... or else.
And I just cried. You'll find I do that a lot.
(I think that was right, if I got your vote wrong, I'm sorry, it was 5 months ago.)

Listen guys, I'm definitely coming home. I want Chili's.
I think they were all right.
That's correct. I'm bringing a baby home.


Not really, but I wish. How thoroughly do you think they check your bags at customs?
I will be home in May, and I know it will be great. I miss my family, my friends, my dog, my boss and coworkers, my job, my clients, and FOOD.
But I know I will be back here.
My home will always be in New Jersey.
But they say home is where the heart is.
And these kids took their little hands, shoved them through my chest, took out my heart, and divided it amongst themselves.
I will never get it back.
And I'm okay with that.
This is home too.
I'm sitting here on our front stoop, writing this, listening to the crickets, the dogs barking, and the Maasai guys in our neighborhood doing their weird Maasai singing/yelling.
And it feels normal.
It feels like home.

Today, some friends and I took the kids from the Hope Orphan Center to Lake Duluti to go swimming.
It was so much fun!
The kids were scared of the water and I was swimming with multiple children hanging on my neck, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they were MY kids.
Some local guy was splashing them and grabbing their ankles and trying to scare them.
I was getting so angry.
At one point, I had a little boy on my back, and this rude guy tried to swim between my legs to scare us.
So what did I do?
Well being a crazy girl from New Jersey, naturally, I shut my knees together and squeezed the guy's head.
Before I realized it's a bad idea to squeeze a person's head underwater, I thought, "Don't mess with my kids, ya schmuck!"
And then I let him go.
I just feel so protective of these kids. I have to take care of them, there's no choice.

They've been placed in my life.
They're mine.
Rosie is mine.
Angel is mine.
Over the past four months, my family has expanded immensely, along with my heart.
There are days when I'm ready to go home, when I just want to watch Lifetime movies with my mom, or go to the beach with my friends, or hang out with my dog (that's not weird), or even go to work.
But in reality, I do not know how I am going to be able to leave my babies.
I just have to hold on to hope that I will see them again.
I have less than six weeks left.
That's nothing.

So here's what we're gonna do.
I have like 60 kids that I'm bringing back with me.
So you guys need to mail me like 45 suitcases, and when I get to the airport, everybody grab a suitcase and run.
Go in different directions to throw the cops off the trail, and then we'll meet at Chili's at around 6:00.
Dinner's on you, cause I don't have money, and I got 60 mouths to feed.
Okay? Okay.
Sounds great, see ya then.

-Braver than I Believe.