So this 4th grade girl comes up to me while I’m watching her class at recess and we get to talking. I know her…she’s a different kind of kid but very nice. Somehow it comes up, I can’t tell you anymore how. “I’m a foster kid!” She does not seem at all shy about blurting it out. I could feel my focus on only her, the other kids fading. I had known through teacher gossip that she was but of course would never initiate discussion about it. I asked her what that meant. She cheerfully blurbled, “It means my dad hangs out with psycho-women and my aunt is going to adopt me!”. The situation is not funny but it made me smile how she just put it right out there and seemed happy that her aunt was adopting her.
In the foster classes we’ve covered visitations, adoption, discipline and signs of sexual abuse. The material is pretty dry but our instructor was very good about answering any and all questions, on topic or not. I told my mother I was taking the classes last week and that they were just informational at this point. “Huh, that’s interesting.” was the response. I know she’s worried I’ll get my heart broken again.
And I am too.
Today is the 4th anniversary of Greyson’s due date. A four year old boy. What would that have been like….
Apparently my cat likes to tap dance on my keyboard when I’m not home. Sometimes I get home and find weird messages have been sent or windows closed. Last week I came home to find this waiting for me on my screen: