So… so far we have had about 8 weeks of classes to get 30 hours of training through ACH Child and Family Services in Fort Worth. We had lots of paperwork (honestly less than I thought, actually…) and homework about our parents and our marriage and our backgrounds and etc. etc., and we learned some about the foster and adoption process, some about the system itself, some about “behavioral intervention,” some about behavior-altering medications, CPR, etc. We had health dept. and fire dept. inspections. And our home study last week.
I can’t entirely speak for Dane, but I am ready. I mean, not literally ready. We have a couple of mattresses from Dane’s sister, a dresser that my mom found at a garage sale, some instruments still in the kids’ future room, NO decorations in that room, most of our child-proofing stuff isn’t quite on yet, a fridge full of food that they probably won’t touch with a ten-foot pole… But I just keep thinking of these little kiddos and/or babies that are cold or hungry or scared or forgotten, and I am ready for them to be in MY house. With blankets. Hugs. Fruit. Homemade, regular meals. Their own bed. A warm bath. A Spider-Man t-shirt (if that’s their thing). A Princess Merida bedspread. (Is she a princess? I didn’t actually see that movie.) A gentle answer, that turns away wrath. I don’t even know what, exactly. But I am ready for them to be here.
I know I’ll be looking back at some point thinking I was crazy for thinking I was ready. And I know that I’m not really ready ready. But I’m ready. You know what I mean?
Edit: And then, this popped unsolicited into my head and reduced me to puddlehood: