Timeline
Since I asked others to sort out their timeline of becoming foster-to-adopt parents, I figured I should create my own (with some other things thrown in for good measure), so here goes:
March 20, 2004 - Michael and I get married in Mississippi
June, 2004 - I move to Lexington, KY from Columbus, GA
August, 2004 - Michael moves to Lexington from Athens, OH - thus ending our long-distance relationship
December, 2004 - I become gainfully employed full-time at UK
January, 2005 - I go to my new GP, and am diagnosed with
Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS). I am prescribed Metformin to reduce testosterone levels and regulate my cycles.
March, 2005 - To make it a double-whammy, Michael gets several SAs, and is diagnosed as
sub-fertile. I do not handle the news well.
April-June 2005 - I take in foster kittens with the Humane Society to try to make myself feel
better. It is only a partial fix.
June, 29, 2005 - Michael and I attend the
Orientation Meeting for becoming foster parents.
July, 2005 - We take
MAPP classes to become foster-to-adopt parents
July 25, 2005 -
First Home Visit with the social worker who teaches our class
August 11, 2005 -
Last MAPP classAugust 19, 2005-
Second Home Visit with our permanent R&C worker
August 26-28, 2005 - We do respite care for Bumble Bee, a 3 yr. old AA little girl
September 15, 2005 -
OUR APPROVAL IS FINAL - we are officially put on the on-call list for placements.
September 24& 25, 31 & 32 - We do respite care for a group of 3 siblings - a 7 mo. old baby girl
and her 21 mo. old twin brothers. We decide we will never take 3 kids at
once.
October 5, 2005 - We get our
FIRST PLACEMENT - we go to the hospital to get a newborn
baby boy. The floor is in lock-down while the birth mother is arrested and
taken away and we leave with baby and security guards.
October 6, 2005 - 23 hours later, I get a call that baby is being returned to the mother because
charges were dropped. I take the baby to the cabinet office and cry the whole
way there and the whole way back. I am offered no explanation and am
thanked for being "so flexible". Michael is at work, and doesn't even get to say
goodbye.
October 21, 2005 - We get our
SECOND PLACEMENT - Howard (age 4) and Autumn (2 mo.) are brought to our house and we fall madly in love with them. We get their clothes, WIC, enroll them in daycare - and then...November 1, 2005 - 10 days later, Howard and Autumn are placed with relatives.
November 16, 2005 - We
turn down our first placement, saying "no" to taking a 3 yr. old little boy who has been physically abused. The call came in the middle of the night while I was alone and my husband was out of town - it would have been impossible.
November 30, 2005 - We
turn down our second and third placements, saying "no" to taking a group of 3 children who would likely be up for adoption soon. An hour later, we turn down taking two siblings - ages 2 and 4 who's "grandmother had been drinking" because we saw that as potentially a very short-term placement.
December 13 - We get out
THIRD PLACEMENT (fourth child) - a newborn baby boy from the hospital that we nickname "Lil Snapper". We sense it may be short term. We are right.
December 16, 2005 - Lil Snapper goes to live with his grandmother. Why they couldn't have done that from the start is beyond me.
December 21, 2005 - I make an appointment with a private adoption agency to do a home study so we can do a private domestic adoption. On the way home in the car, I cry loudly to God - out loud - pleading with him as to why I cannot have a child of my own. I confess that I am extremely unhappy as it is the holidays and just got another brutal reminder that I do not have children. I feel good about my decision to take action instead of sitting around miserable.
December 22, 2005 (the very next day) - Less than 24 hours later, I get a call for our
FOURTH PLACEMENT (fifth child). She is a newborn - 2 days old. Our worker asks if we can pick her up at the hospital, but we can't because we are closing on our new house at 3:00. She asks, "Can you take her at, say, 4:30?" We close on the house, and meet the worker and the baby at our place. We find out then that the baby was born addicted to cocaine. We are terrified.
December 25, 2005 - on Christmas morning, folks at church pray over baby girl, now nicknamed "Sugar Cookie" by my dad. We head home, and she never again experiences withdrawl symptoms or distress.
January 7, 2006 - We move into our new house with a new baby. It is the most grueling experience of my life.
February 28, 2006 (today) - I come into work late, and am told there is
King Cake in the breakroom for Mardi Gras. I take a small piece, bite into it, and get the baby. Everyone at work thinks this is the coolest, except Jennifer, the secretary, who had already eaten darn near half the cake trying to get the baby. I am now typing with a tiny plastic baby on my computer keyboard. I think it is a reminder that there is much excitement yet to come, and many unfinished chapters to the Michael and Tamara story.
Sick of Continuations!!!
Ugh. Just got a call from Sugar Cookie's worker. Court has now been pushed back for the 3rd time. First cancellation was because the paperwork was not complete. Second time was because Biomom's court appointed lawyer didn't show up and got the date wrong. This time is because Biomom is sick. Aaaaaahhhhh - can't I just get some freakin' progress here?
This time court has been pushed back to March 13th. Two weeks more to wait. How much longer can my heart take this?
Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know, it's a long process and I need to have more patience.*Sigh*
Well, I should be happy that the worker at least called to let me know. Tomorrow night she is coming by the house for her monthly check on Cookie. I guess we will talk more then about what will likely happen.
Biomom's visit with Cookie for tomorrow has also been cancelled - the workers don't want her to make Cookie sick. So, for now there are no more visits scheduled, and we will wait for a call to find out when the next one might be.
I just have to remind myself that all we have to do is be a family. God is taking care of all the rest. There is a reason there have been all these delays in the court dates - this can't be a coincidence.
I've Created A Diva
Okay - get this:
Whenever you get a baby from the hospital for a foster care placement, the worker brings you these huge goodie-bags of supplies for the baby. Included are usually a ton of pre-mixed 2oz. bottles of formula and individually wrapped nipples to put on them and then toss. There are blankets - some of ours have had tags attached saying "Handmade By Inmate #2846" - those are very cool - especially when the inmate is male. There are clothes and booties, and packs of diapers. Every time we have gotten a baby from the hospital (which is 3 times now), we have gotten these huge bags of surprises. Well, also in the bags are usually bottles to use later on. These bottles are all different types and qualities. And we've used them all.
Well, when Sugar Cookie came to live with us, she had trouble latching on and swallowing. I had heard about Avent bottles, so I went to Target in the middle of the night and bought a 3-pack. Holy cow - I almost passed out when I saw the price - $13 for a pack of 3 bottles, and the replacement nipples were $4 for 2. Thinking my Cookie was worth it, I bought a 3 pack. Recently, I bought replacement nipples for a faster flow. We use these bottles along with the other assorted el-cheapos that we have collected since last September. Well, recently at day care, they told us she is refusing her bottles. What the??? I just did not understand this. She comes home and drinks like - well, a drunk at last call.
Then I discovered it. I had few clean bottles and she was hungry. I prepared formula in one of the el-cheapo bottles, sat down on the sofa with her in our usual spot, and inserted said bottle. Oooh, she got mad. She shook her head from side to side and scrunched up her face. I tried to stick it back in her mouth - and she pushed it out with her tongue! I tried to reason with her - I said "Look Cookie, mommy's tired and this is all I've got. Please drink it." You're begining to see who the winner was, right?
I placed Cookie in her swing, and she proceeded to cry and cry and cry. Menawhile, I quickly extracted an Avent bottle and nipple from the sink and washed it by hand, thinking to myself it was probably not particularly sterile, but hearing a crying baby and wanting the crying to stop won out. I dumped the formula out of el-cheapo into the cadillac of all bottles and went back to get my crying Cookie. Again, we sat on the sofa, and once I placed the nipple in her mouth, she closed her eyes and feasted.
I said to her, "Great, I've created a diva." She has the simplest of tastes - she only wants the best.
So, friends, Avent bottles rock. The nipples look really, really funky. I was thinking I am very glad that my nipples are not that long. Holy cow - I mean LONG. And I think she does spit up less with them, but she still farts - a lot. She is a farting-machine diva. She should have a tiny tiarra.
She is becoming more like me every day - except the farting part - which we all know I NEVER do.
A Sick Little Sugar Cookie
I knew it would happen - that we would have her in day care for a week, and then she would get sick. Yup - right on time.
Friday night she got cranky - but her diaper rash had gotten better so I did not understand. BTW - A&D Ointment - the good 'old fashioned yellow goo - was the ONLY thing that worked. Even the daycare workers tried the flour browned in a frying pan. I tried Desitin, Desitin Creamy, cornstarch - I even tried giving her an oatmeal bath with Aveno Baby Oatmeal Bath Soak. She screamed through the whole thing. So much for "soothing". I told her I was sorry about 100 times, and called my mom who convinced me to have my husband go out and get A&D ointment right then and there. As soon as I applied it, Sugar Cookie breathed a sigh of relief. It works on burns - so I guess that's why it is so good. The rash is healed now, thank God.
But Saturday she woke up and was in a foul mood. She squirmed and stuck her legs out all rigid and cried and fussed. She also pooped more than I have ever seen her poop - in colors that I am certain appear nowhere else in nature. She was congested, and was having trouble breathing. I tried Vicks Baby Rub on her chest, and it helped a little. I tried half-doses of infant Tylenol Plus Cold. Still her fever went up - to 99.5. I kept taking her temperature and petting her head - and Michael and I took turns holding her. Still, she cried and fussed. Oh, our heads hurt so bad. And I was ready to go to the night-pediatric center at any minute if the fever got to 100. Thank God it never did.
Sunday the fever was mostly gone, but Sugar Cookie was still feeling yucky. Even though it's ot recommended for babies older than 1 month, I swaddled her pretty snugly, being careful not to hurt her circulation, breathing, or wrap her legs too tightly. Once she was a baby burrito, she stopped crying so much and would finally take a pacifier. I was also afraid with her arms flailing about she was going to scratch herself despite my constant nail-trimming. I swear, baby fingernails are little daggers just waiting to cut you.
Last night, around 1, I had taken about all the crying I could, and I got up to retrieve a blanket, placed a screaming Sugar Cookie on it, and swaddled her and placed her in the bed with us instead of in the crib. She finally let us get a few hours of sleep. I felt awful for her, but it was all we could do to get a little rest and stop our heads from throbbing. I'll bet her head hurt too. Once I had that realization, I gave her a teesy amount of infant Tylenol once she was swaddled, gave her a bit of formula, and rocked her until she closed her eyes.
Ugh. I felt so bad for her. But this morning she was much, much better. Fortunately, the day care is closed today for inservice, so Sugar Cookie will go to work with Michael and not be around any germy kids.
She was feeling well enough to do the "Butt Cheeks" dance Michael does with her. She was grinning and "dancing" when I left for work. In case you are curious, the cartoon
The Boondocks often makes fun of BET, and from time to time will feature the song "Shake Them Butt Cheeks" to paraody the fact that, well, BET features shaking butt cheeks. Now, this funny song is even funnier when Michael is singing it while standing the baby up on his lap (holding her under her arms/around her middle) and making her "shake her butt cheeks". I tease him that if her first words are "butt cheeks", he is in big trouble. But she loves this so much that her whole face just lights up whenever he starts to do it with her. *sigh* I'm just glad she's back to her movin' and shakin' little self.
Visit # 2 With Biomom - A Weird Feeling
I'm writing here from a conversation I had with my husband, so please understand that this will inevitably be filtered through my own (very tired) brain.
Michael has been the one doing the toting of Sugar Cookie from one place to the next. He even said he would be the one to take her to bi-monthly visits with her birth mom. We were told we would have to have no contact with her, so Michael generously offered to pick her up from daycare and take her to the cabinet office for each visit (in lieu of the social worker having to pick her up from daycare and take her).
When I called Michael to ask him how this second visit went, he was quite abrupt (okay those who know him - more so than usual!). He said we could "talk about it later" and cut me off. I didn't want to pick a fight on Valentine's day, so I just let him go. I called back to tell him that the dude Dick Cheney shot had a heart attack (he loves politics and pop culture, like to "scoop" him on breaking news). Before I could get to the point of my call, he apologized for his earlier shortness, and attempted to explain that it hadn't been a good expereince for him.
From what I gather, when he arrived early at the cabinet office, Biomom was once again in the waiting room. He thought this was odd as they already apologized for that happening the first time. Biomom said nothing to him, but he told me that he "got a really bad vibe this time". To give this some context, Michael isn't one to get a "vibe" about anything. He's easy going, doesn't over analyze, and lets even negative experiences roll off his back. In all the time I've known him, he's never picked a fight with me - he lets things go. But this time, he was really shaken by something.
M: "She bought her some clothes."
Me: "She bought her clothes? Why? We have tons of clothes. We are
required to buy her clothes."
M: "Yeah, and she changed her outfit during the one hour visit into the new outfit she brought for her."
Me: "Why on earth?"
M: "I have no idea."
Me: "What had you dressed her in?"
M: "The little baseball outfit we like."
Me: "I like that outfit."
M: "Me too."
Me: "Maybe it made her feel better somehow. But you'd think that if she wanted to do something nice for her baby she'd get herself following her case plan and get her drug tests, not buy her clothes."
M: "She bought her a blanket too. A
Finding Nemo blanket. I just left it at the daycare center when I took her back after the visit. I don't need to see that."
Me: "I understand. I don't think I do either."
M:
heavy sighMe: [
I tell him the Dick Cheney story to try to distract him]Me: "You never have to take her to visits again. We can ask that the social worker get her for the visits. You shouldn't have to feel this way. I can't imagine how hard it is for you to take her there. I mean, she
feels like
our baby, and then someone comes along and messes with her and changes her clothes, and it feels weird. It feels wrong."
M: "Yeah."
another heavy sigh "I'll think about it before I take her to the visit on the 28th."
Regardless of whether you feel Michael has the
right to feel the way he does, or whether he
should feel the way he does, I think you've got to understand how grueling this is - for both of us. I don't have the burden he has of taking her to those meetings - even if it was voluntary. He did it because he loves her, and doesn't want a stranger toting her back and forth. He wants her to feel safe and secure as much as possible - even while twice a month going to this strange place to see someone she doesn't really know.
I think that Biomom somehow feels she has done something good for the baby - and her changing the baby's outfit into the one she brought somehow guarantees that the baby will wear it - instead of wondering if it will be thrown away or stuffed into a bag, or donated to Goodwill.
Whether we like to admit it or not, as foster parents who are hoping to adopt, some of us feel threatened by birthparents. We see our family as the "right" one for the child - and the birth parents see us as, well, the strangers who have their children. I'm not proud of feeling scared that the birthmom will get Sugar Cookie back one day, but I am absolutely terrified...petrified. I do not think this would ever, ever be in Cookie's "best interest" - there are horrific amounts of drugs there, and a history of physical and sexual abuse. I literally
fear that she would return to that situation.
On top of that are my deamons of infertility. By the ripe 'ol age of 23, Biomom has now given birth to at least 3 children, only to loose 2 of them by involuntary TPR - and now faces loosing a third. Meanwhile, I cannot conceive a child with my husband. I feel the screams of "How unfair!" well up within my soul, but they do not escape in public - only in my loud cries out to God as I drive home sometimes from work and hear a song about children, or think about Sugar Cookie, or the 4 other children who have been in our home for foster care. I never stopped to wonder if Michael ever feels that way. Sure, he never wanted to have children, but he wants now to have a family with me. He wants Sugar Cookie to be our daughter forever, and I do too.
With each day, it becomes sweeter- and the pill we must swallow becomes more bitter. Each day she grows more beautiful. With each new sound, new movement, new smiles, and new bits of personality - she becomes more a member of our family. But right along with that lives the understanding that she is not our legal daughter. Each day represents the growth of love and a bond that would make it more painful to say goodbye. These visits are a brutal reminder of that. It feels like an appointment with reality. After living the rest of the month as parents and daughter, for 2 hours out of the month we face the fact that she is not ours - she belongs to this young girl with the life I would wish on no one. She feels closer and closer to being ours. God have given us only the best of news - as Cindy is, so should we be - jumping up and down! Praise God for his answers - ALL of them good news. Why should we be discouraged? Why should we let Satan take away our joy? Because we are human, and because Satan uses our own fears, our own struggles, our own weaknesses - to get us to turn away from Christ.
Satan, I've said it before - get away from my family. You cannot have us! You see these tears I cry are from my human pain, but you cannot take my peace. You cannot take my joy. You could only have it if I choose to give it to you - and I will NEVER.
This is Sugar Cookie's first Valentine's Day. I hope she has many more wonderful ones to come - and I hope we are there when she gets to have her first chocolate!
Cookie Update: What We Know (And What We Don't)
*Heavy sigh*
Tamara takes a deep breath and thinks about how to inform her wonderful "virtual friends" and well as RL friends about all that is going on.The court date was pushed back. It seems Sugar Cookie's social worker needed more information to submit the paperwork. So - now we wait for a court date sometime next week. Ugh. R. apologized for not getting the paperwork in on time for the date this week. I told her I understood. It was not a lie. I would much rather her be able to put together the very best documentation in the world in order to make the best case for the judge. In addition, I believe with my whole heart that there was a very good reason that we will probably never know as to why the date had to be changed. Maybe God knew the judge he wanted to hear the case, and yesterday's judge wouldn't have been the one to hear it. Maybe whatever paperwork R. needed to add would have been a deciding factor as to whether to move Cookie to an adoptive status. Only God knows - but I am glad he's got our backs.
But there is good news for us (which, regretably, is not good news for the birth family):
No family members have "checked out" or were able to be approved to take Sugar Cookie. Apparently biomom kept coming up with names, but none proved to be suitable. I'm glad that if a family is not suitable, that workers see fit not to place the baby with them. On the other hand, this means that the entire family system must be problematic - or worse.
The other family - the one that adopted Sugar Cookie's two older siblings (ages 4 and 6) last year - has declined to take her. They said they simply cannot take another child. I am glad they recognize that, and are allowing us - the family she has known since birth - to keep her. I hope God blesses them for making what was undoubtedly a tough decision. If it is God's will, I hope Sugar Cookie can get to know her brother and sister someday and understand why she did not get to grow up with them.
The biodad violated his probation, is in jail, and for whatever reason based on whatever he did - he will be there a very, very long time. R. told me that he will be in jail for at least 9 years. This means that for all intents and purposes, he is out of the picture. Based on things that he did that I do know about, it is good that he stays locked up so he NEVER preys on another child again.
Biomom has not done a thing. She has not gone to any drug testing. She makes excuses that range from not having a ride to not having ID. It is amazing that she was able to get places to get drugs and get to the hospital to deliver the baby, but when it comes to doing anything to get the baby back, its excuse after excuse. Ugh. But I still feel sorry for her. I still pray someone helps rescue her and helps deliver her from the hell she is in. At 23, there is still so much time to change things around. I pray somehow she gets help.
So, friends, I guess God said "wait" - but he also gave us a ton of answers to pending questions. I am so grateful for the answers He provided today. Thank you for your prayers - they were answered!
Oh, and Sugar Cookie got an awful diaper rash. I did everything I was supposed to do. I felt awful. She cried and cried - real tears and everything. If you have a "miracle cure" or advice on how to get rid of it/avoid it - please, please share!
AND she started day care yesterday too. It hurt. Michael took her. I'm glad he did, because I would have cried. Because no matter what happens from here, she will always have been our baby.
When A Virtual Friend Hurts
I found out that my
sster and her husband did not get the baby they thought they would. It seems the birthmother changed her mind after delivery and decided to parent. I found myself sitting here at my desk unable to move on to paperwork. I was thinking of sster and Attic Man and hoping they are getting through the moments of today in one piece. I know they will because God is with them.
While my experiences are different, I have some understanding of the loss of a child you believe might become yours. We had a newborn baby boy for 23 hours before getting the call that he was going home. We had a 4 year old and a 2 month old for 10 days before they went to live with relatives. We had a newborn baby boy for 4 days before he too went to live with relatives. And now we have a baby girl we've had for 7 weeks who came to live with us straight from the hospital, and we have no idea if she will become ours, though all signs point in that direction.
Each of the 3 times that children have left our home, I've cried. Each time has been different. It did not get easier to see them go back. I sat on the sofa and sobbed and stared out the window. I ate a lot of ice cream, and laid in the bed for hours without sleeping. I was mean to my husband who tried to comfort me every time despite greiving in his own silent, internal way. I wished I had tried to have children earlier in my life when it might have been possible. I also didn't really want to talk about it. I knew that talking about it wouldn't change the situation, and I knew how I felt. I didn't need clarification or confirmation. I needed time to grieve the loss.
The pain was like death - death of a piece of me, and death of a person. I had become a mother, and then told I was no longer a mother - over and over again. I formed relationships with children and then in a matter of minutes, they were taken away by a social worker.
My husband and I chose this route of adoption (adopting from the state via foster-to-adopt) knowing all of the ramifications. We knew that we would probably never get a child placed with us who already had parental rights terminated. We were told that families who were waiting for children who were already "free and clear" and who wanted children under the age of 5 waited for years. One family had been waiting 4 years and had not had a placement yet because they would not do foster care first. I cannot blame them for making that decision.
We chose to work with the state instead of a private agency for several reasons. The first was purely financial. If we adopted from the state, there would be no adoption costs. The other reasons were more humanistic. We just felt it was the right thing to do - and the numbers of children in foster care were staggering. Likewise, many families each year end up adopting their foster children. We figured it would be a while and be hard - but we had no earthly idea how hard it would be. No one could have prepared us for the loss we felt when children left.
I looked into domestic adoption, and learned about the risks of birth mothers changing their minds - in the hospital or even worse - after the adoptive family has had the child in their home for weeks - even up to a month. I cannot fathom it - yet in some ways I can. And I feel the pain in my chest just thinking about it. One minute you are a new mother, on top of the world basking in the glory. And the next minute you're sitting in silence with big hot tears streaming down your face and you can't make sense of what is by its very nature completely senseless.
What sster and Attic Man are going through reminds me of the uncertainty of my own situation. On Monday the 13th, Sugar Cookie's worker will go to court to ask the judge to terminate parental rights. The judge could do almost anything. In addition, there is the other adoptive family who has her siblings, and there are other relatives who were being checked out. I live every day knowing a call could come in telling me that Cookie is going to live somewhere else and will not become legally ours. I pray every day that she will be ours for life.
But in the meantime, we are now parents again. This baby girl is ours. We are the only parents she knows, and she is the only child we have. All of us waiting for our children and hoping to become parents soon share similar fears and similar senses of loss.
I still trust God, but some days are much harder than others.
Friends, please show your support to my friend
sster and her husband. Pray that God comforts them as they step out once again in faith to adopt the child He has for them.
Day Care... Sniff Sniff
It hurts to think about placing Sugar Cookie in day care. But alas, we are a dual-income family for obvious reasons. Neither of us makes enough alone to pay the bills and keep us in the lifestyle we have "grown accustomed to". We have a new house (and new mortgage), 2 cars with one car note, 2 cats, and an infant - um, yeah. So, off to work we both go.
I found that the Kindercare around the corner from campus has a 1 year waiting list. Man, that seems like if you are even thinking about getting pregnant, you'd better get on their list. I can see the conversation now: "Um, yes, hi. My name is Tamara Cookie and I am thinking about getting pregant soon. Can I get on your waiting list for say, 16 months from now? I'm assuming it will take a few months for it to
take."
So, the nice lady at that center referred me to another location, and we were good to go. After work, I will head over and check the place out to be sure it's where I would feel comfortable having her.
But alas, beggers can't be choosers here. There are lots of places, but very few openings. An unlike a pregnancy which would allow you to get on a waiting list, foster care is a 1-hour notice most of the time. We've been grateful for life situations that have allowed us to shuffle Sugar Cookie here and there with us when we had to work.
Cookie has been accompanying Michael to the class he teaches this semester in communication theory. Sometimes she sleeps through class in her car seat, and sometimes he has to hold her while he teaches. Either way, the students don't seem to mind much. I think it's great for them to see this PhD-holding, very professional man with his tiny baby - he makes a great role model. That's what two days a week are like for him. The rest of the days Michael has either had her in the office with him, or he has been a stay-at-home dad and took care of her while trying to do some writing and catch up on email. I believe this is how they have bonded so much.
So, if all goes well tonight at the day care visit, she will start on Monday. She will go there 5 days a week unless one of us is off work, or just doesn't feel like taking her in on a given day. Oh, this is causing me anxiety already.
But - hey ya'll -
sster has BIG NEWS!!! Go over to her site and read all about it!
Feeling Less & Less Like a "Foster" Mom
Tomorrow my Sugar Cookie turns 7 weeks old. We now call ourselves mommy and daddy. I stopped referring to myself as "Foster Mommy" or "Mommy Tamara". I even tried calling myself "F-Mommy" (akin to P-Diddy). But "F-Mommy" sounded more like a horrible insult and rather hard-core.
Its easy to remember I'm not her biological mother. It's easy to see that she is not a product of a union of my husband and I with her fair skin and blue eyes. But for now, we are it.
I don't as much like a foster mom. I feel like a mom. It's been moving in that direction for a couple of weeks now. I'm so scared, yet at peace about what will become of Sugar Cookie. For now, she is our daughter and we are so proud. I love her, and I whisper that to her all the time in the middle of the night as we do our sleepy warm feedings.
The court date is a week away. We haven't heard anything about the other family, or the 16 year old family member who wants her.
Meanwhile, check out
Cindy and Brien's news!!
Things I Will Make for My Kids
A woman I work with is a culinary pimp! She made these Groundhog Day cupcakes - and I thought I would document her creativity and share it with my dear readers.
