The babies left yesterday. I kissed their fat cheeks and stroked their soft hands and let them be carried off with a peice of my heart.
The rest of the day I kept thinking I heard a baby crying out. My husband even jumped a time or two, and then looked at me and grinned slightly. Maybe it was a grimace. Even in the middle of the night I awoke, certain I had heard the littlest one squeaking for his bottle.
At 4 am, Flit woke. He came barreling out of his bedroom sobbing. He had wet the bed and was terrified. My heart broke a little...again. In our house, bedwetting is no big deal. It means one of us adults quickly strips and changes the bed while the other adult soothes and changes the child and then there is a round of hugs and kisses and a dry child is put back into a dry bed. In Flits world, bedwetting means something entirely horribly different. He was shaking and saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" and in fact he had only actually dribbled a little bit. We had him quickly changed and pottied and back into bed.
I wonder what had happened to him at other times when he'd wet his bed. I'm afraid to think too much about it.
Flit is a handful and a half. In fact, he kinda requires the hands of 3 people most times. I took the advice of my friend Mary over at Fireflies and Frogs and we've gone to the town pool a few times. It wears that little guy out and he crashes into bed at about 7:30 which is right about when my teeth are grinding themselves to a powder and that one vein is popping out on my temple. Yesterday he took out the screen door twice. Bounded right thru it. On accident.
I'm also trying LBC's advice on keeping a bit of a schedule. That's a bit harder, but I'm trying. Our evening is pretty easy to plan out - dinner, bath, story, bed. Now that my babies are gone it might be easier to plan out the daytimes. DSS is seeking another home for Flit because we are temporary placement anyway, and since school is starting soon they'd like him to be settled. I just want him to be safe, and to NOT go back to being in a different home every night and sitting in the DSS office all day. It would be nice if he could be with his sister. There is one potential home for him with a family of 3 other boys, one of whom is Flit's age. The mom is only worried that Flit and her son would not get along well. I understand that worry. My little Bear and Flit are not the best match and Bear has shed a few tears the past few days. Flit is not mean or anything, he's just... well... Flit.
He's a cute little scamp. I can't think too much about what his future holds. At his age, and with his temperament... and with the likelihood of him being back with his mommy pretty soon... I can only see what his future will not be. And that makes me cry.
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4 comments:
The pool works every time!
I don't think I could ever do foster care. I would be totally obsessed with the children's futures and get too attached I think.
You are doing a great thing D and I admire you for it.
The poor boy is just a baby yet has been through so much already.
It probably won't get much better for him.
My heart breaks for those kids. It takes a special person to do foster care and you're obviously one of those people. My MIL has done foster care for years and she only cares for those who no one else wants; the sick, brain damaged, crack babies, etc. She's 73 years old and she still does it. She ended up adopting 3 of them who are now teenagers and doing quite well. You are a gift from God my friend. Truly.
At least you're giving Flit a sense of security right now, there's not a lot more you can do, and then we can only hope he won't have to go back to his mum..
What you do is amazing, though, I know I would never allow myself to get emotionally involved with someone I knew wouldn't be staying around. I'm too selfish. You're truly making a difference for these children!
Oh, D.
I just love you. Poor little flit. You make me love him, too.
Hug.
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