Barbie Cars and Early Bed Times

I hate that this has turned into a foster care blog. I love all of you that come and read my pathetic tales of fostering, but this blog, which has been going since 2007, was obviously not intended for just foster care stories. I guess it was intended to be about me. And my life. Which is narcissistic to the extreme. But more for my family to keep up with my happenings and more for me to keep track of my happenings. Posterity and all that. If we get to that point, anyway.

Today was hard. We didn't get visitation this weekend. Not that we tried to. The kids relatives are really just not good people and we figure the kids are better off not seeing them all the time. And it really is about the kids, even if I love my weekends without them. Things really did start off fine, but the amount of whining and complaining and crying in this day just kind of rubbed me the wrong way, and apparently by Saturday night, I lack in sympathy. And patience. So my five year old got to go to bed an hour early. And got a Barbie car taken away. It's just how it goes.

There is a cluster Facebook page that I am a member of for the foster families in my area. For months it seemed like people would post these stories and moments that made me wonder what I was doing wrong. All this love seemed to be flowing between foster parents and their foster children and I'm over here just counting to ten all day long. But finally, some justification came my way when for the past few weeks, story after story of frustration and lack of attachment posted on the cluster page. I'm sure the chaos that the holidays can cause in foster children played a huge part in the things that people were posting. But it was such a breath of fresh air. I have such a hard time reading about foster care success stories. Because my first one, not a success. These kids just aren't mine. And it's like the universe reminds me that every single day. They belong to another family. And I'm sure that the family that adopts them will love them to pieces. And I'm glad. Because they totally deserve it. And oh how I wish things would have been different. I wish that I was adopting my first placement. How sad to take in kids and then send them away. But it's just how it is. And that must be how God intended it. Because I gave this my all. And it didn't work out.

Team meeting on Monday. If the caseworker did her job (hah), then we should be finding out the details of the move.