Another roller-coaster week in the life of foster care. Monkey is really coming into her own. I love this 6-month age, where they’re starting to explore the world around them. They’re so cute and fun! And SuperD gets funnier every day. Today he announced that his eyes are gray and green and white and purple. Okaaay, buddy, if you say so!
The kids are the good part, the slow, steady ride up the roller-coaster. Before the bottom drops out. They’re the reason we do it. Getting the phone call, preparing for a new kiddo, meeting the family and getting excited about developing a positive relationship with them. The snuggles, the kisses, knowing that we are giving them a sense of safety and security. That was yesterday in our house, all warm-fuzzies. We are currently watching SuperD’s attachment behaviors change, and it is fascinating. That’s a post for another day.
Then there’s the heart-wrenching downhill slide. The part where your stomach jumps into your throat and you aren’t sure why you ever got on this ride to begin with. That’s pretty much been today in our house. A phone call, potentially bittersweet news about a former placement. Confusion about the status of a parent of one of our current kiddos, and frustration that no one at the agency seems to know or care. Feeling like we are the sole advocates for the precious little ones entrusted to us, even though we have literally no ability to make an actual decision about their lives. It’s heady stuff, and today it is all feeling like a bit much.
But just when I think we should talk about getting out of the foster care biz, I get more sweet smiles, giggles, kisses and love and remember that I can’t really imagine life any other way right now.
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