Our social worker, our old (and maybe soon again) social worker, the director of our agency, the child's social worker, and his current foster parents are all working out a schedule and time frame for placement. Each time the phone rings I jump out of my skin. We've had two visits since Friday, we might have a few more in neutral locations with the foster parents too, I might take care of him in our home tomorrow morning, or we could already have him here by then. I just don't know yet.
I think we're as ready as we can be. We have laid waste to the spare bedroom, with all the glassware and other fragile items stored away, but then we put a doorknob cover on that door, so the mess can remain safe at least until Thanksgiving.
I'm. So. Freaking. Nervous.
I have the other blog up and running, spewed photographs all over it this morning. I've been up since 6 with little else to do than document this crazy thing and assemble some furniture and hang curtains, so that's what I've been doing.