Signs that parenting has set in

1. Talking incessantly about the cute things one's child has done. Including bodily functions. --check

2. Been able to translate your child's speech into something intelligible for the stranger to understand. --check (Really, how hard is it to understand "I'm is sad" or "I'm is hungry" or the like?)

3. Bought a larger size of milk without any worry about it going bad before it's used. --check

4. Had your computer screen scratched by scissors without wigging out. --check (Though I should add that I spoke harshly when Sabrina started jumping on my other computer.)

5. Gotten the Dora theme song stuck in your head. --check

Too bad

I just got an email from Sabrina's (initial) social worker, who says that no, she can't approve Sabrina calling mom. They are having the family team meeting as I type, and the GAL should also be asking. Hopefully at least we'll get permission to call Auntie or Daddy. The initial court hearing is tomorrow and the social worker is still expressing confidence that Sabrina will go to family tomorrow. That would make us all very happy, but I'm not holding my breath.

Friends

Everyone has been So. Amazing. over the past few days. On top of the innumerable emails and facebook status comments with general good wishes, I've been blessed with amazing offers of help as I go crazy. It helps that I know a lot of people in my apartment building. Thursday night all I had to do was ask on facebook if anyone in the building had milk that I could use for Sabrina's cereal ("shereal") on Friday morning, and a friend/neighbor came through for me. Friday night when we got home from the ER long after Shabbat started, I knocked on my next door neighbors' door and they sat with a sleeping Sabrina while I got our things from the car. And on top of that, they then brought me a plate (two plates and a bowl) from their Shabbat dinner. Last night another friend came over and brought chocolate and ice cream bribes for Sabrina to take her medicine, helped me get Sabrina in pajamas and her own bed (she made it until 4:45 in the morning in her room), and was adult company for a while. This isn't even counting the great staff at the hospital (including my friend, woohoo!) who were so great with Sabrina--and one of whom gave me a reassuring pat on the back while Sabrina was crying for her mom, and the mom in the room next door who pretended to try to call Sabrina's mom for long enough to distract her.

I'm sure that when I need to do laundry later today, someone will be willing to come and sit with Sabrina so I can go to the laundry room. (I'll try getting her to come with me, first, though!)

So amazing to have such great people in my life.

So. Much. To. Say.

If I forget, remind me that I want to do a separate post about Shabbat issues as it relates to this first weekend with Sabrina. I also want to talk about just how amazing my friends are, much more so than I deserve. I want to talk about Sabrina's family and what's next for her. And I want to talk about strategies and techniques for dealing with a headstrong, very bright 4 year old. (I think that might have been redundant. My understanding is that 4 year olds are by nature headstrong.) But for now, here's the WOW what a first (and second) day.

Poor Sabrina has had a terrible, rotten, no-good, very bad, horrendously awful time since Thursday. Yes, so bad that I couldn't just paraphrase the book title. We know that of course the rottenness on Thursday was being removed from her home and coming to live with a stranger. She was up all night coughing and then I dragged her from bed to go to school. (If I had more parental experience, we might not have gone to school. But since she was removed from school rather than home, I was nervous that if she didn't "get back on the horse" right away, there might be bigger problems down the line.) We got lost on the way to school, but that was part of my own no good very bad day on Friday. Anyway, Sabrina went to the nurse and had a fever, so I then went back to school to pick her up. And that's how things went from bad to worse.

I'll interject here about my day Friday. I had a very concise to-do list: Tar-jay for some clothes for Sabrina, groceries, laundry, making baked ziti for the potluck that I was supposed to go to--even if we didn't go, I felt an obligation to make the food--and a trip to the library to pick up some books and DVDs before picking Sabrina up at school and rushing home to get ready for Shabbat. So I dropped Sabrina off at school and went straight to Target. By the time I got there, I had three voice mails: 2 from folks at The Agency--the placement supervisor and Sabrina's worker--and 1 from my mom who very sweetly wanted to ask some questions so that the house would be ready for a 4 year old on Thanksgiving. I called all of them back and got more information about Sabrina's situation.

Tar-jay does not seem to sell kid's school uniform clothes after the school year has started; too bad for kids who have a growth spurt or who move into the area, I suppose. They also don't sell skirts for little girls. Jeans, cords, leggings, and some totally inappropriate dresses. That was it. Grumble. (I was just trying to get a small assortment of clothes, so I decided one pair of sparkle jeans would be sufficient.)

The grocery store was successful.

As I pulled out of the parking lot of the grocery store, my phone rang. It was MY worker, who I had totally forgotten about so when she introduced herself I couldn't place her. We chatted while I drove (shhh, don't tell anyone, especially not George who I lectured the other day about similar unsafe behavior) and pretty much as soon I got off the phone with her, the phone rang again. It was the nurse at Sabrina's school telling me that Sabrina had a fever and I needed to pick her up. Okay, I said. I have perishable items in my car so I need to take them home and then drive to the other side of the city, but I will be there as soon as possible. That's when the call-waiting beeped. It was Sabrina's worker making plans to meet me at school with clothes for Sabrina.

So, back to Sabrina's bad day. It turns out that Sabrina has asthma; no one bothered to say anything about this before or, you know, make sure that her inhalers got to me. So a fever plus asthma in a world of swine flu = a trip to urgent care. A friend of mine is a pediatrician (actually I tried calling her at 7:30 in the morning on Friday to get advice on what to do about Sabrina's cough, but she didn't answer--she was driving and is more responsible than I am) and happened to be at the clinic! She listened to Sabrina's breathing and didn't even make us wait. This is because her breathing was So. Bad. Let me tell you, I learned a lot about asthma yesterday.

Two nebulizer treatments later we were sent to the ER for a chest x-ray and another treatment. At this point I'm very glad that I stopped at a donut place near Tar-jay for donuts (not specifically kosher, but really they must be) and coffee, because that was the last food I ate. And at 9 pm, we finally are able to leave the hospital. Eight hours. Without anything to read or otherwise keep ourselves occupied. They had ONE age appropriate book for Sabrina. And it took over a half hour to find 4 crayons and some pictures to color.

And then today she had to take medicine three different times, and it was "nasty." (Having just taken some adult cough syrup myself, I understand this sentiment completely.)

What a rough few days for her. Hopefully tomorrow won't be so bad (meds only twice!) and fingers are crossed for her that Monday she goes to a relative.

Deep Breaths

Well, she's here! We'll call her Sabrina, if for no other reason than it's the first name that comes to mind with any sort of free association. Sabrina is 4 years old and very sad to be away from her mommy. Mom has some sort of mental health issue; I'm hoping for Sabrina's sake that it is merely an acute crisis and medication will get her back on track reasonably soon. (Well, I hope that for her mom's sake, too!) In the meantime, I'll talk to her worker tomorrow to try to get more information.

We had a good bit fun while I showed her around my apartment (toys and snacks in various places all serving to distract from actually showing her anything) and then had dinner. I told her we were going to have spaghetti and she asked for it with butter. But then when I served it, she complained that it didn't taste of anything. I don't know if this is because Mom makes it with margarine, or Mom puts something else on it, or something else entirely. So I made the best sandwich I could--which is not saying much, given the state of my refrigerator--which was fake turkey. She said it tasted fine but also ate only half a slice of the turkey and none of the bread. She must be starving.

She finger painted a bit after dinner and then reality started to sink in. She cried a lot that she wants her mommy, so we wrote a letter to her; unfortunately, that worked only for about 3 minutes.

Sabrina also was scared to be by herself so I had to be in her line of vision at all times. That was a little awkward, but at least I haven't needed to go to the bathroom since she got here! (Um, she hasn't either, which kind of worries me.)

I had grand, naive plans of a sweet bedtime routine involving brushing teeth, reading a story, talking about the schedule for the next day, and then sharing one good thing that happened during the day, but Sabrina told me that she wasn't sleepy (this while sitting on my lap and yawning) and wasn't going to go to sleep. And because she wasn't going to go to sleep, she was not going to change into pajamas. Or take her shoes off.

But she picked up a throw pillow off the couch, took it to the dining room table, and laid her head on the pillow while sitting on a chair. And she finally, I think, is asleep. Not sure how moving her is going to go, but I'll try!

Now the only concern (only--HA!) is what she is going to wear to school tomorrow. Well, and how she will react when she gets to school. She told me she doesn't want to go, and I can't blame her--she was removed from school. Oh, and I guess the fact that I've been sleeping 'til about 10 and can't do that tomorrow.

Wish me luck!

UPDATE!

No time for a long post right now because I have to get my apartment ready for a four year old girl! Just came into care today, was removed from school so that should have its own issues. At least she is in school so tomorrow she can go while I buy things for her. I am SO not ready for this. My apartment is so not ready for this.

Deep breaths...

More on George, this time fostering-related

When I introduced George, I neglected to mention that he is taking me on a date (woah!) on Tuesday night. Okay, there is still a sliver of doubt in my mind that it isn't actually a date. Nevertheless, it's a date. Or, to quote his email, "'not' a date." Those scare quotes are what are throwing me off.

This is my first date in something like almost 5 years. I know, I know, what's wrong with me?

So what happens if The Agency calls between now and then with a kid I'm actually licensed for?!?! (As an aside, don't the placement people have information in their system about folks' licenses? I got a call on Thursday for a sibling group of older kids. I have ONE bed. And my license is for ages 3-7.) Can I really cancel my first date in 5 years because the kid is more important? Do I say "yes" to the (currently hypothetical) placement and then find a babysitter? Ack!

If you believe in prayer for silly things like this, please pray that I just don't get a call until Wednesday!

The Brilliance of My Agency

While I was on vacation, I got phone calls from three separate people at My Agency. One was the placement that I had to decline. The other two were, well, not how I would have done things if I were in charge.

First, the call from the Re-licensing Worker. I've been licensed for what, a month? Why does the re-licensing worker need to come to my home already? I realize that my home is no longer my own, but this just seems like overkill.

Second, though, was the call from my original Licensing Worker. She wanted to know if I'd gotten my license. She had better have meant just the piece of paper, because she really ought to know that my license had been approved. But if she were that concerned about the mail (a VERY legitimate concern, in my experience), shouldn't she have called sooner? Regardless, that isn't my real issue with the phone call. My real issue is that she is required to do a quick satisfaction survey with the people she licenses. Great in concept. However, when she asks what the biggest barriers were, and my answers are "communication" and "lost paperwork", both of which were her fault, well, it becomes a little uncomfortable. Perhaps someone else could have conducted the survey?

Oh well. I'm home from vacation and completely overwhelmed by the mess I left for myself to return to. As soon as it's a little cleaned up (which had better be by Monday!) I will email the placement office to remind them that I have a vacancy.

My first call!

Stories of my vacation to follow (because I know that you're dying to hear where I've been for the last week) but the relevant anecdote is more important:

I got my first placement call!

I happened to be in South Beach (Florida) at the time, and the call was for a 2 year old despite my license being for kids age 3-7, so I had to say no. But it was exciting to get the call and know that they actually will be using me.

I also was glad to have an early experience saying no to a placement. I know that I will feel guilty every time I have to do so, but I think that being able to say no for the first call I ever got will make me more comfortable when I need to for other reasons (since I have gotten over the hurdle of just wanting to say yes every time). (I realize that I'm not expressing myself very well here. I went to bed at 1 am last night and my nephew woke me up at 7:30.)