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!