To say that we have faced some curve balls in the past two weeks would be somewhat of an understatement. But here we are, two weeks into our first foster care placement and still alive. I'm beginning to wonder if the normal routine or a whole week of uninterrupted daycare for our kids may not actually be possible. Frankly, this foster care stuff is pretty much all over the place and rather nuts. One minute I'm rolling with the punches as if we are pros (yeah right), the next minute I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of peace that we are in the right place and the next I'm overcome by a heavy anxiety when another curve ball comes our way.
I have told myself "we can do this" about fifty gazillion times in the past two weeks. My little village of texters in my phone has encouraged and provided advice. I have told myself daily "they are happy and safe and fed and warm and clean. That is good enough for right now." Some folks have chimed in about how Sister should be rolling over by now and Brother should be saying more words. We have bigger fish to fry at the moment, like smiling the biggest smiles ever and sing-songing "la la la love yoooou".
It's really weird and nothing but a God thing I believe, just how peaceful I have felt at certain times since Brother and Sister came to us. Like, there's no explaining it. No possible way that a need-to-be-in-control person like me should feel the sense of calm I have felt off and on in this chaotic two weeks. I feel like our household and our little for-now family is covered in prayer from the many lovely people in our life and God has posted a host of guardian angels around our home. That's the only way I can explain it. It's weird. And wonderful.
But it hasn't been all peace and calm in my heart. When both kids are crying at the same time. When Brother starts hitting and scratching because he's tired. When I remember I haven't written down their medicine log for two days. When daycare calls to say Sister has thrown up and to come take her home. When daycare calls to say Brother has a fever and to come take him home. When our pharmacy's system is down and I have to go on a wild goose chase to get medicine home to a sick and sleepy boy. When Trent has to skip class. When I have another week of not hitting the 55 tax season hours I'm supposed to be working right now. When I wonder just how fed up my employer is getting with my wishy washy whereabouts. My heart tightens up and I kind of go cold and I fight tears and I just want to push it all away and hide. Hide from the chaos. Hide from the crying. Hide from the unmet expectations. Hide from the curve ball coming straight at my face.
But I can't hide. I gotta face the chaos and the curve balls and wait for the peace to come back. We signed up for crazy and by golly "we can do this".