By the time most people are pouring their first cup of coffee, my day is already halfway gone. That morning was no different. I had burned toast—again—signed permission slips I didn’t remember receiving, and somehow found Sophie’s missing shoe in the freezer. Jason and Evan were arguing about whether a spoon counted as a weapon, and Katie was yelling about her hair like it was a national emergency. This is my life now. Loud, chaotic, exhausting—and the only thing that’s ever felt right. I’m forty-four, and for the past seven years, I’ve been raising ten kids who don’t share my...
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