Quite a Feat

Somehow the daycare managed to squeeze my little fatty into a size 3-6 month onesie.  He is outgrowing some of his 12-month stuff, so that was quite a feat!

I Have Proof that Tank is Alive and Well

I have been thinking for the last several months that I need to try to get out to see Tank, realizing that I don't think I had seen him since late last summer.  The scare a couple of weeks ago was the catalyst for me to say, "Hey, let's get together!" 


Elmer and I met up with Tank and his aunt at the park this weekend.  He didn't know who I was, but when I started walking over with Elmer in the stroller, Tank ran over and yelled. "Baby!!"  It was soooo humid, but at least the playground was shaded and the kids didn't really care about the heat. 


They both were swinging - Elmer was laughing at Tank and watching him the whole time, and Tank was screeching in delight as the swing went back and forth. 

And then a dog walked by and Tank yelled, "Puppy!  Puppy!" and his aunt says that he loves dogs. 

So now I have seen with my own eyes that Tank is alive and well! 



They Know

Elmer has gotten to a point that I can just lay him down in the crib when it is time to go to bed (or nap), and he goes to sleep.  Sometimes he talks and rolls around for 10-15 minutes, but he almost never cries. 


We were at my mom's house today, helping them unpack.  It was time for Elmer's nap, so I held him for a little bit - he was looking around at all the different surroundings.  When I laid him down in the pack n play, he immediately stood up and started crying.  I ended up having to lie in the bed with him to get him to go to sleep. 


This made me think about these babies that come into foster care.  Even at ten months old, they KNOW that something weird/traumatic/scary is going on.  Machine Gun was the same age as Elmer is now, during the few days I had him. I could tell that he knew things were different - he would immediately look up at the ceiling fan whenever we would enter a room.  He screamed when I would even stand up to walk across the room; he had to be rocked to sleep and held a LONG time before I could put him down. 


When in a strange place and a strange bed, even with the person he knows as mama, Elmer was scared and had a hard time going to sleep.  I can't even imagine what it is like for these babies who come into care and have to do a strange place and a strange bed, without even the comfort of a familiar person. 

Who Thinks That's Okay?

Elmer had a visit last week with his mom and dad.  He was supposed to have a visit the week before, but mom cancelled it.  The caseworker told me that mom and dad are both still under the impression that they are getting him back.  But that they both have had lawyers the whole time, so they should understand what it meant when they agreed to DSS's plan to "forgo all reasonable efforts to reunite."


They brought him diapers and wipes, a bunch of clothes from The Children's Pl*ce (I always wonder where the money for all these expensive clothes comes from), and a few other things, including this:

Yes, those are wires hanging out the back of the toy.  I honestly can't figure out why, unless the toy was made defective.  But who thinks this is okay to give a child?!

Sometimes

Sometimes I sit and watch Elmer playing,

and tears form in my eyes as I think about how amazingly well he is doing,

considering his start in life. 

 

My Heart Attack

This afternoon I got a voice mail (to my Google Voice phone number which I use for communication with bio's) from Tank's mom.  Tank's mom has never called me, and I don't think I even gave her this particular number. 


It said, "This is Tank's mom.  You took care of my son for a while.  I just heard the bad news about Tank.  I just wanted to say thank you for everything you did for him when I couldn't.  Please call me when you can."


My heart DROPPED.  What has happened to Tank?  I immediately texted Tank's aunt and asked what had happened.  And tears started to well up as I pulled up the online obituaries.  Something in her voice told me this was what it was.  I paused and said to myself, "I can't believe I am about to type in his name to search in the obituaries" and said a silent prayer that nothing would show up.  The search did not produce any results, so I breathed, but only slightly. 


In the next minute or so, I got a response from Tank's aunt saying, "Someone told her that he was dead.  That baby is just fine!  Somebody is very cruel to do that to her!"


And then the tears came gushing out in a release of emotion knowing that he is okay. 


I told her to give him extra snuggles for me tonight, and then I did the same with my baby here. 


Wow.  When I use and hear the phrase, "Foster care is a roller coaster", I never expected it would include something like this.