Reignie Neight

I normally don’t take subtile hints, subconscious clues, or hints that things that happen are because bigger and badder things are in the horizon, but I got a phone call this morning that Reignie Neight, the foster child I mothered in 2001/2002 to prove I was a fit mother and get back the custody of my own Pogo, has died from her heart birth defect. She was eight years old.

Also, today marks the first day of about ten, that I’m going to be strictly caring for five children and a senior with intermediate Alzheimer’s by myself. They’re all up and demanding food. Except for poor, nocturnal Pogo, who is just now going to bed. I somewhat feel like a failure because I can’t get her back on a decent sleep schedule, and with only two days into her Christmas break.

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