Last Wednesday I got a call from DSS. There was a 1 year old little girl they needed to place. I guess this is as good a time as any to mention that John and I got certified to be foster parents a couple of weeks ago. I’ve kept my phone right next to me every second of every day, waiting for that call. And finally they called. We* said yes. The case worker said that they would bring her over.
I waited a few hours, scrambling to find anything that might resemble something close to a toy for a 1 year old, starting some pancake batter since we don’t have any good toddler food, and scribbling down lists of what we would need to buy. After a few hours, I called the case worker back to see what the status was, and he said that someone else was supposed to have called me, and that they were going to bring the little girl over the next day instead.
Which was good. That gave me time to run to Mama Goose to buy a couple of outfits and a little doll, to Target to buy diapers and a cup and those little plastic things to put over outlets, and then to Wegmans to buy some cheese and whole milk and blueberries and then to Green Star to buy some unscented Dr. Bronner’s soap and some bread.
I didn’t unpack anything from the Target bags, just in case. I didn’t take the tags off the clothes, just in case. You never know what will happen, and there’s always the chance that a relative might be found to watch her or something.
But sure enough, the next day they called and asked if I could come pick her up. I filled a little sippy cup with water and headed over. I got there, waited in the lobby for about 10 minutes, and then was taken to the back, where a social worker was holding the cutest little year and a half year old girl. After a few minutes of conversation and paperwork, they helped me bring her out to my car. I had gotten a parking ticket (I didn’t have any quarters for the meter and had crossed my fingers– I filled out an appeal form today, so we’ll see how that goes!). But I didn’t (and don’t) care about the ticket.
Because in the back seat of my car was a tiny little girl with the cutest dark curly hair, and I was now in charge of her. So that’s why I haven’t written in ages. I don’t have time to write much more because it’s almost 7:00 and I am about to fall asleep. Little Girl went to bed at 6:30 tonight (she usually goes down at 8) and every night so far she has slept exactly 11 hours, so it looks like I might be waking up at 5:30 tomorrow.
* I say “we” but I actually wasn’t able to get John on the phone before I made the decision. He wanted to be a foster parent, obviously, but we had assumed that we would get to sit down and have a nice, long chat about the child, the situation, and make the decision circumspectly, together. Instead, after I realized that I might not be able to talk with John on the phone for a few more hours, I called DSS back and said yes. I was a little worried that John would be slightly freaked out by the hasty addition of a baby to his family, but he was just as excited as I was and instantly became the most amazing foster father ever.