This has been a crazy week in foster parent land.
Three different dates have been discussed for K's possible return home. Today, end of next week, and after Christmas. Each suggested date comes with a whole new set of planning. We've reworked our plan quite a few times this week!
At five o'clock last night, a worker left a message on my phone to say that today will likely be the day.
So we've packed up the toys, folded the cute little shirts into boxes, and started to say our goodbyes.
This sweet man has been pure sunshine and we will all miss him dearly. Even the teenage boys in the house have been sappy and cuddly.
Click here for a video of his lullaby, and in the spirit of confidentiality, we're rocking it like Star Wars. It doesn't loose any of the cute factor.
We've been given the privilege of loving, and with love comes a good-bye that stings.
Edited to add: K did go home that afternoon. He'd spent just under two months with us. We were pretty sure he'd be moving that day, so we picked up all the boys at lunch (K and our boys). We wanted to have one last nice afternoon together. We got a call at 2pm that he'd be picked up around 3pm.
We had one last hour with him to wrestle, sing our favorites, and say goodbye.
K's Mom, uncle, and worker came to the house to pick him up. It was a quick exit, and within 10 minutes the car was loaded, hugs had been given, and they were off. The next day we bustled out the door to Haiti for two weeks.
Being a foster parent is not for the weak of heart. You sign up to love and nurture a child who is smack dab in the middle of a traumatic event. If I had to put a number to it, I'd say well over 75% of our placements have been hard. Hard to live with, hard to be nice to, hard to get through the day with. So having this easy, sweet boy with us came as a surprise. We miss his easy laugh, his hilarious sense of humor, we miss singing about vegetables at dinner, we just miss him.
