My Boy Likes Convertibles!

We spent a day with the kiddo, just hanging out around the house. We made it an early night, as The Hub and I have figured out that this is our last night as a childfree couple. (We'd made big plans for a fancy dinner out, but, um, I think we're actually going to order a pizza and watch My Name is Earl and The Office.)

Last night, there were tears and sadness over going back to his foster family (litle guy was sleeeepy), so today when it was time to go, we made a big deal out of a "guys' drive" in The Hub's car, which happens to be a red, turbocharged, two-seat roadster. The baby was thrilled, even with the driving cap we made him wear to keep the sun out of his eyes because we can't find child-sized sunglasses this time of year. I'm told he was happy to see the other kids, gave The Hub a kiss and a hug when he left, and that he knows he'll see us tomorrow.

Now, to veg.

Hambone

The new clothes fit. So much for going with boys' sizes, back to the baby area of stores. His new hat is a bit large, but looks enormous when he's pulling the chin straps. He's entranced by everything in the house, and even though we're trying to introduce new things slowly, it is hard to put one past this kid. He's inquisitive, focused, and a bit overwhelmed. He mugs for the camera. He pets the dogs. I made him a ring for his finger out of playdoh, and when it got stuck to the piece he was playing with, he worried about where it went until The Hub made another. We peeked under the bed at the cat, and I said, "What's that under there?" He said, "A monkey!" Yesterday, he kept himself awake by sheer force of will, wouldn't nap, scared of "no be here," and when we told him that we had to go back to his foster family, he cried for the first time all day and said, "No, want stay." He fell asleep in his carseat, opened his eyes for a moment when I lifted him out, and stayed asleep when I tucked him into bed and covered him with his blanket, which is the only non-clothing possession he has.

The Hub and I are not as terrified. We're still figuring things out, and any moment he'll run through the front door for another visit, his last before the state moves him here tomorrow afternoon, but so far, so good.

So. Very. Tired.

For anyone wondering, nine hours of parenting down, seventy years to go (if I figure the average age lived for the women in my family).

I know we're in the honeymoon phase, but this is one cool kid.

To Do:
Return each and every piece of clothing we've amassed for another size.
Run the heck out of the dogs before he comes over tomorrow.
Convince the border collie mix that the kiddo isn't a strange new breed of sheep.
Get the magnetic poetry off the fridge.
Drop the bedframe a few inches.
Trim the cat's nails.
Try again to contact kiddo's SW.
Cook huge batch of reheatable dinners.
Finish painting train set.

He's Here.

The day has gone better than I expected. Picked him up at 10 this morning, and we'll have to bring him back to his foster parents pretty soon.

Dogs aren't much of a hit -- the little pup hasn't realized that jumping up on a kid is different than jumping up on an adult, and the big pup is wondering what kind of strange sheep we've brought home. Nothing worrisome, though, just adjustments.

Kiddo's been glued to the hip all day.

All the clothes my family bought are too big. Back to the stores. Kinda happy about that, actually, since others had brought piles of clothing and all I got him was a tshirt that says he does all his own stunts.

Is poop often bright green? I couldn't believe what was coming out of this kid.

Friday!

We're taking custody on Friday. We're visiting as much as possible between now and then, but Friday will give all the social workers involved enough time to do paperwork, make appointments, see the little guy and talk to him to explain what's about to happen.

The Wheels Go Fast, then Slow

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.

With Pictures! Send an email!

When I started writing this blog, it was because of the lack of foster-adopt blogs out there. The first one I found, back in June, was Suck the Marrow, and from there I eventually located others, found Chinese adoption and Russian adoption and Korean adoption blogs to be more plentiful, so I started reading those, too, especially the China blogs, since each month there was a new group of people getting referrals, traveling, and becoming families. I liked that. I still like it.

With this situation we've decided to pursue, there are... complications. I'm trying to decide whether to keep Spotted Dog Turn public for other fost/adopters in the future and to start another blog elsewhere, or to turn this one private (yarr, I did take my blogs private for 4 whole days this last week, my pal is working on new looks, and I figured things might be wonky so they went private, but then I had the need to blog, so back to public it went). I think I'll keep this puppy public and start another.

I'm very, very tired right now, what with the hours visiting will-be child then followed by dropping an assload of cash on kids supplies, but tomorrow I'll start the new blog. If you'd like to be added to the reader list-thingy, send me a quick mail at spotteddogturn at hotmail dot com. I know there are a bunch of people who visit regularly that don't comment or mail, so if that's you and you'd like to know whether will-be son is 1 or 17, drop a line. I'll try to remember to send out emails tomorrow to the people I know and love, but my brain is made of Quaker Oatmeal right now, so emails would be So. Very. Helpful. I've got Blogger Beta going on here, so if you have a Blogger Beta/Google ID, that would be the email to send from. But I'm guessing y'all are in a better place, brain-wise, than I am right now, so do whatcha can. Me=mush. For reals.

Also, I will NOT be able to do all this tomorrow morning/early afternoon if we take custody of him tomorrow. So, if I'm slow, I'm probably a mom.

Till then, here are pictures.

Two t-shirts from Target. They're the only place we can find short-sleeves right now, so even though Tarjay clothes usually fall apart after a month or so, that's all the longer they have to last.

Tablecloth, plastic on one side and fuzzy on the other (I'm sure there's a name for that type, but I don't know). Yay snowmen and reindeer! $3 at target, keeping the wooden table from scritchedy-scratches.

Also from Target, melamine plates, bowls, trays, and side plates that are very similar to our already-have stoneware plates and bowls. We figure droppable plateware is a good thing.

And, ah, has anyone else ever come within moments of having a nervous breakdown in the carseat aisle of a store? Just when I'd been all "hey, I picked one out! woohoo me!" six other people came around to tell me just how wrong I was. I let them hash it out, I went and picked out socks with flames on the feet and came back a bit later. I have no clue which one we ended up with, but I'm thinking it made the majority happy.

Its a boy!

We met him. We get to see him again on Sunday. My parents have been unsworn from secrecy. The cat's out of the bag -- free range cat, if you will.

We'll be bringing him home this week.

Actual details will be given soon.

We're meeting him in two and a half hours. I'm a girl who couldn't fall asleep the night before the first PRIDE class, I got so excited, so right now I'm frazzled.

We're thinking we'll bring toys for all the kids living in the house (current f-mom has two children, plus the child we're meeting). We're not making a big deal out of why we're there, it is all supposed to be low-key. Our SW will be there, the one we started out with, the one that we liked so much that we chose this agency.

My mother has clothes, toys, and equipment set aside at no less than 5 stores, and she's even conned my father into returning to the attic (remember how well that went last time? ugh.) to find the Brio, Playmobil, and tons of other toys and books.

Even though there are some things about this child and this child's situation that are troublesome, even though there are more safety issues than we would have liked, we're looking at this meeting as a way to confirm our "yes." From what we know right now, we're moving forward.

I'm terrified.

Last Memorial Day, I said to The Hub, "You know how I want to be a foster parent, or adopt from foster care? I think we could actually do that now instead of waiting another ten or fifteen years."

Finished verification in mid-August.

Submitted our homestudy on many kids between then and now, only heard back about kids who were already somewhere along the matching process and were no longer available. The rest, who knows?

Only really started getting calls in the last month, with a flurry of activity in the last ten days. Three under three, a newborn, four and six year old sisters, a five year old, another newborn. We've said no.

Tomorrow, we're meeting a child. From what we know so far, we're saying yes. Depending on his social worker's preferences, he could be placed in our home tomorrow night.