Where did all these kids come from?

I know for certain that I only birthed three, not all at once, thank you. Yet, somehow, more and more of them keep showing up. They wander in and out, in and out and in and out again. If you follow the trail of dishes and empty pop cans, you know exactly where they've been. My phone rings constantly! I don't even answer it anymore, I simply let it go to voice mail.

One of these extras has actually taken to calling me "mom." Several have spent the night so many times that I don't even bother to make sure that they have pillows and blankets. (They should know where they are by now.) It's not unusual to find extra clothing in the laundry. Clothes that I am positive look familiar, but don't actually belong to anyone in this household. I find this particularly insulting as my laundry mountain is tall enough. I don't need any help in this department.

But, the latest and somewhat disturbing trend, is that I am actually losing sleep over other people's children. Awhile back, I mentioned to my hubby that I would like to adopt another child. He wasn't thrilled. He hasn't said no, but he hasn't said yes either. He really hasn't said much of anything. And, now, I'm beginning to think that my life is being filled with all these teenagers that need a surrogate mom for a reason. There are a lot of them and their problems are real. They make me thankful that my own kids are late bloomers.

I'm trying to wrap my brain around it. I'm trying to wrap my heart around it. If I give up the dream of enlarging my family, will that hole somehow be filled? Can it really be the same? Is influence given in bits and pieces the same as raising a child completely?