From the time I wrote my last post, to now, quite a bit has transpired. We have two foster kids with us! TWO?! Yes. Two.
In going to trainings and gathering information over the summer, we discovered the strong need for homes to take sibling sets and how traumatizing it was for foster kids to not only be ripped away from their families and support systems, but also their siblings. It grew heavier and heavier on our hearts that we were to take more than one.
Enter our cutie pie, little O. We had just got back from vacation to the mid-west early that morning...1am to be exact. At 9am, we got a call asking us to consider a little 2-year-old boy that needed a home. We asked questions, prayed together as a family, asked more questions, and finally agreed to take him. They asked us to pick him up at 1pm at the office. So, what did we do? Put our suitcases away and cleaned our house like mad people!
When we arrived, he was in a conference room, playing with some toys, sitting next to the emergency CSW. We talked for a few minutes with them, met our social worker, and then everyone just disappeared. And it was all of us....and this little, sweet boy, who we were now in charge of. We led him out of the office, with his hand in mine, with no tears or questions. A very simple walk to the car, watching leaves blow across the parking lot. We buckled him up, and started the ride to....Target. That's right. We needed clothes for this little one, diapers, toys, and everything else we could think of.
