I want to talk for a minute about how I went from despising the show The Bachelor, to last night lying awake in concern over the fate of Brad and Emily’s relationship. First of all, every season I vow to stop watching this show.  I find the whole premise skeevy, especially the inevitable fantasy suite date where the bachelor spends the night with three different women in some attempt to kick the tires before he buys  test the limits of a 10-day dose of zythromax get to know the women . . .

What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions.  It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here. The following post is by Campbell, who blogs at The Percolated Paradox.  Campbell aged out of the fostercare sytem and is a passionate writer on the subject.  I hope you will take the time to read this post . . .

Winter nights can be a challenge.  We are anxiously awaiting the time change and some warmer weather, so we can get back to playing outside in the evenings.  In the meantime, we go to the mall.  A lot. Our typical routine: Carousel Rides ($1 each)   Letting the kids pound on computers in the Mac store (free)   Mini cones at the Ruby’s counter ($1 each)   If we are feeling particularly adventurous, we might stop by Sees Candy for some free samples, let . . .

Sometimes I envy those Amish. We are having a bad technology month.  I actually feel like we have a technology curse.  I am sort of hoping other people read this and say, “no, this stuff happens to me, too”.  Because I feel like the constant breaking/crashing/rebooting/ exclamation-point-within-a-triangle thing is just a big fat episode of me being punked.  Punked by technology. - We just cancelled our Uverse cable, because a) ATT is like an abusive boyfriend who I . . .

On Saturday mornings, India has ballet class. Its a rare time in the week when it's just the two of us. She likes to make sure I am watching her dance through the window of the studio.  She also insists that we eat at the Denny's across the street.  It is our little "date" - even if the location is canceling out any cultural strides she is making by taking ballet.  She likes the hot chocolate, and I like the company. . . .