If only it worked that way. . .

22 Sep


When you decide to become a foster parent, your life changes.  That’s about the most blunt way to phrase it. . . There are some obvious ways that you expect it to change. . . you expect to have kids in and out of your house, you expect upheaval. . . during the application process, you come to understand that you will lose pretty much all sense of privacy.  Seriously, one of the application questions involved listing all past romantic relationships and explaining why they ended.  So, there’s an expectation of a loss of privacy.  You know that you will have caseworkers and, hopefully, a CASA volunteer visiting your house on a regular basis.  Sometimes there are other therapists traipsing in and out.  What I didn’t realize when we started was exactly HOW much I would wish that I could see, just once, what the inside of our caseworker’s house looks like.  She visits every month, and has been for the past year and a half.  We don’t go insane cleaning every time, like we did at the beginning.  But as she left this month, I looked around and wondered if she had a pile of clutter on her kitchen counter. . . or a mountainous stack of clean dishes in the drainboard.  I’m not ashamed of how our house looks.  I mean, we live there.  When you only get a few hours notice, and you have to work all day, there’s not much that you could do anyway. . . but if I saw the piles of laundry on the floor near her washing machine or the leftover breakfast dishes in the sink, just once, I wouldn’t be nearly as self conscious about our clutter.


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