As if our home wasn’t already a bustling hub of fur, scales, and fish tanks, we decided to add a little more chaos to the mix. Not chaos in the stressful sense — more like chaos wrapped in fluff and armed with tiny claws. Yes, we’ve taken on fostering two six-week-old kittens (we  were also watching their tabby brother Digby for a week while his family was on a trip) .
And let me tell you: these babies are adorable. Think fuzzy jelly beans with big eyes and wobbly legs. They’re impossibly cute — the kind of cute that makes you forget you’re on your third load of laundry or that someone spilled cat food in your shoe (again).

The Foster Fail History
Now, full transparency: I have a long-standing reputation as a “foster fail.” For those unfamiliar with the term, it basically means you start off with the intention to foster… and then end up adopting. Every. Time.
But this time? I’m determined. I keep telling myself (and my family) that we are not keeping them. I say it confidently, like I totally believe it — even though I know there will be tears when they leave. Especially mine.

The little girl already has a loving home lined up once she’s old enough, and the little boy will stay with us until we find a perfect family for him. I’ve already assured him that there will be no “free kitten” Craigslist ad in his future. He deserves better, and he’ll get it.

Health Concerns and Tiny Victories
When we first brought them in, there was some concern from the vet that the male kitten might have a neurological issue. But honestly? I’m not convinced. If anything, he’s just the runt — a little behind the curve, maybe, but eating like a champ, using the litter box like a pro, and cleaning his wobbly little paws like he’s auditioning for a cat food commercial.
He’s feisty, full of personality, and holds his own in kitten wrestling matches. If there’s something wrong with him, you wouldn’t know it by the way he pounces on his sister or chases shadows like a seasoned pro.

The Parenting Side of Fostering
My 9-year-old son is already in love — which I expected. I mean, who can resist kitten cuddles? But before we brought them home, we had a talk about what fostering means. That our job is to help these babies grow strong and healthy so they can go on to live their best lives with families who love them.
He said he understood and that he felt he could do it. And I believe him. But I also know there’s a small part of him (okay, maybe a big part) hoping we’ll change our minds and keep one. Honestly, I can’t blame him. I’m right there with him, trying to balance attachment with responsibility.
Still, we remind him — and ourselves — that what we’re doing matters. Even if we don’t keep them forever, we’re giving them the love and care they need to have the best possible start in life. That’s no small thing.

Morning Mayhem and Cat-Fight Coffee
These days, our mornings begin with a show: two tiny fluff balls doing their best WWE impressions while we sip coffee and try not to melt from the cuteness. I was almost late for work the other day because one of them started purring on my lap. I mean, what kind of monster stands up and breaks a purring kitten moment?
Exactly.

A Full House (and Then Some)
In case you’re wondering, we are definitely at capacity. Our current crew includes:
3 dogs
4 cats
1 bearded dragon
5 fish
Their ages range from a few ounces (hello, kittens) to 21 years old (our eldest cat, the true queen of the house). We’ve raised most of them since they were babies and fully intend to be with them until their last naps in sunbeams. That’s just how we roll here — love them hard, love them always.
What’s Next? Who Knows.
So, will this be the time I don’t foster fail? Maybe. Hopefully. Possibly not. But whatever happens, there’s no doubt these two kittens have already brought so much joy (and a little extra fur) into our lives.
Stay tuned — I’m sure there will be updates, unexpected turns, and probably a few tears (happy or otherwise). For now, I’m just trying to enjoy the chaos and soak up every little purr-filled moment.