If I'm not nice or accommodating, someone better tell me now. Yeah yeah... we are "in competition" for the baby we have placed with us, and both of us want him to live with us, and each of us has very valid reasons to want him to live with us. So what? We BOTH care about this little boy and want the best for him. When nobody cares about a child... the child suffers. From one foster mother to another -> We care plenty and that's a good thing. I'm sure we both have friends on either side of the fence, telling us both why "we" should get to keep him. This decision is not up to us, or our social workers. It's up to some pannel of people, who have never met the child in question, who get to make the life altering decision. However, these people are suppose to be smart about these kind of things. These are the rules. Say with me in a mocking tone - Hurray for rules!
Almost eight months old now. We are hearing words like "Atka", "Mommy", "Daddy", "Hi", "BB" "Annnan" We think "BB" is for MissyB and "Annnana" is for Nancy the cat.
Our best intrest staffing has a date now for MissyB. I don't know more details other than that. They used to send letters, but they don't now. SRS seems to like to preform more background checks at the last minute I guess. I wonder if they are reading my blog. If so... since you clearly send abused kids back with their abusive parents, and I'm the one who gets hit, because the kid thinks that's normal, so I'm left with bruises and no apologies What a hard job you have. Social workers don't get paid enough.
Oh... more about kids that I didn't birth. The teens want to borrow my truck and want to decorate it for the Shawnee Mission North Parade, but get me to drive it, since they can't drive. Husband thinks I should ask another friend to offer up his army truck to them. It's way bigger. Although, then I'd need to learn how to drive an army truck.
*Sigh*
... and I would too... because that's just how accommodating I can be. I never knew teenagers could be so much fun. They know I have a soft spot for them - and I've been promised, by one of the girls, she will bring home her first gay best friend for me to pet and praise, by the end of the school year. I can't wait. I'll wear my "It get's better" Tshirt, if it EVER comes in the mail.
