Some vacation

It’s just a month away from the next court date.  Is it too early to start writing about it?  I thought I would be riddled with anxiety by now.  The truth is, we’ve been so busy being a family there hasn’t been much time to sit and dwell on it, well until now.  Funny how we keep ending up in this situation, court date after court date, waiting, positing what may happen, reading the tea leaves of what little we know to try to make sense of it all.  It must seem rather strange to people who are not foster parents. 

Brave little thing

Our children look to us to make the world safe for them.  It’s programmed into human development, this need to feel safe and secure.  Without it, how would any of us have been able to venture out, to explore, to learn and experience even the simplest things?  Our foster son has complete trust in us.  I’ve seen it. 

Never can say goodbye

On Friday night, I was sitting on the train with my headphones fiddling with my BlackBerry (I still have trouble with it–I’m just not a very BlackBerry-like person) and I see Michael Jackson taken to the hospital and I think–okay, fainted, or plastic-surgery emergency–something mean like that.  Then I overhear this guy across the aisle tell someone that MJ had died.  The both of them start texting and searching furiously.  So I am wondering if he plugged into some wild viral rumor or was the hospitalization thing that I read for real.  I checked out another web page and there it was: MJ has died in L.A. hospital.

just when I thought it was safe

A month ago, I was wondering if maybe I was just a little crazy for entertaining the idea of another placement from DSS.  Papa – aka Juan – definitely thought so and maybe he was right.

But since then, I had pretty much put the idea to rest…until last night.

Taking Off

 

It’s hard to express how exciting life has been with Mr. T.  His development has suddenly shifted into a gear that makes it hard to keep up.  It is at times a little….breathtaking.  While he has been a little butt-head lately (spitting problems, back talking and general obstinacy), his physical and verbal abilities are exploding all over everything.  After spending a week-long vacation with family in Seattle we both witnessed such dramatic changes in this little boy.

Seattle: the Sequel

We made our second journey to Seattle.  Thirty minutes before leaving, T took a tumble down a few stairs resulting in an ugly gash just over his right eye.  He didn’t need stitches so we applied some ice and continued packing—flight #422 was not departing without two frazzled dads and a crazy toddler aboard.  The eye was going to be big and ugly no matter what we did.  We like to think of it as his prize fighter look.

  

Foster Again (stop him before he thinks again)

Yes, looking at you like you have lost your mind—that is what I was doing the other night.  Yes, when the person that after all we have been through with the foster care system—the horrid amusement park ride that seems to have no end—says aloud to me and to everyone reading this blog that you could do it again—be a foster parent, yes, you have lost your mind, most definitely.  It wasn’t that long ago that I wrote a post blasting the foster care system.

Random Thoughts: Blogging for LGBT Families

Blogging for LGBT Families 2009

I learned late last night that June 1 (today) is Blogging for LGBT Families Day 2009 and now, here I sit with just about an hour left to crank out a post.  As Florida Evans from Good Times would say…”Damn damn damn!”

Given that it takes me a good week-at-a-time to write anything coherent, this is not going to be easy.  I’m thinking “brief and to the point” should be my motto for the next hour or so, otherwise I might as well just save this post  for 2010.

So here goes…

stop me before I think again

Not more than 20 minutes ago, I had what I’m sure was a moment of pure insanity. And now, as I sit here trying to quickly type this entry, Juan is looking at me like I have completely lost my mind.  In a desperate attempt to shut me off, he just clicked the ceiling fan remote control in my direction.

You see, I was loading up the fridge with the leftovers of tonight’s pancake dinner when the refrigerator thermometer fell from its place in the butter compartment. We bought the thermometer about 2 years ago to satisfy one of the requirements for our home study.  As I put it back, I had a flashback to those early days of hope and excitement – the warm wishes from friends when we told them of our plans to start a family, our journey into the world of baby/family oriented yard sales, the drive to dc to pick up a free crib from another gay dad and complete stranger.

Get me, get me

 

I get suckered into the chase me game all the time.  And who could resist.  He laughs and screams and runs his little, teeter-tottering toddler run, where he winds back and forth, his back arched and his little feet trundling beneath him.  So the way it works is I make a face and the game is on.  He starts shouting and running away from me.  He runs through rooms and hallways and I chase him.  When he has run out of real estate and can’t go any further we both turn around and he chases me.