What a gift having State Preschool available for Thing 1 was for our sanity. He would go to school from 12:30 to 3:30 each day, get some much needed academic and social teaching, and James would get some much needed respite from having near-constant power struggles and tantrums. One of the things that the preschool insisted on was that he not wear pull-ups to school. When they came to us, that was all he wore, and he would go to the bathroom only if he felt like it or if we made him. He also only pooped at night in the pull-up. That was another source of complete meltdown--if we insisted he poop on the potty, or merely suggested it sometimes, he would freak right the hell out.
We were going through underwear pretty frequently at home, but most days at school he did okay. He had to use his emergency change of clothes now and then. I asked his teacher if he has the same outbursts at school as he did at home. She was surprised--she had never seen him do that. She suggested that he may be able to keep it together in one element of his life so he chose school and then let loose at home.
We were slowly gathering a better picture of their life before us. They were with their former foster parents through the FFA for about 2 weeks. These people, I believe, are a major source of a lot of the bathroom issues. Thing 1 would just freak out about poop--his own, his brother's, any he saw outside. If we were cleaning him up, he would apologize profusely. It got to wear we figured he was made to feel ashamed about it, We would just reassure him that poop is no big deal, we can clean it up, and if it gets on our hands, oh well, we can wash them. Our mantra became everyone poops, even mommy, daddy, and the president of the USA. I was so hurt and angry for him though, that he was made to feel that way.
Before that family, they were with "Aunty" whom we could not figure out if she was biologically related or if that was just a title. They were with her for a fairly long time, maybe 9 months or a year. When she lost custody of them is was traumatic, with the kids being removed abruptly at night with little more than the clothes they were wearing. When their adoption social worker first visited our house, Thing 1 got agitated, then finally walked up to me, got really close to my face and asked "Where are we sleeping tonight?" We found out that when they were removed, she was the one who took them into custody.
We learned that Thing 2's birth father was incarcerated, in some sort of work camp at the moment, and that birth mom had recently married to the father of her infant daughter.
Keep in mind that none of this information came from the FFA. They claimed to know nothing about them. Each bit of information came to us through conversations with their county social workers, Thing 1's counselor, and through piecing together what the Thing 1 would tell us.
One thing that the counselor told us that ran chills down my spine--Thing 1 is a high level placement and if a permanency plan wasn't found for him, his next stop would be a group home and they would be separated.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
My Break Down
James and I were tense all the time. It was difficult for me, the one who grew up with 2 younger siblings, who has a Masters degree in Human Behavior, who has made a career of working with kids, to be this overwhelmingly bad at being with THESE kids. I dreaded the moment each morning when I first heard them stir, and I was on edge all night, waiting for the next cry of "Mommy?"
I finally broke down one morning and as James was trying to calm me down, I blurted out "I just don't love these kids. I thought I loved all kids but I don't." I was at my breaking point. We were have 2 to 5 45 minute tantrums from Thing 1 a day, no matter what we were doing, Thing 2 was trying to run away or climb something, our cat was refusing to eat or groom himself so I was certain he would die...I was just done.
James was so much better at it than me. He kept calm and cool, he didn't yell like I kept finding myself doing on a regular basis. He was able to ignore things that I couldn't. I was counting down to the end of the 6 month placement.
We heard from their adoption social worker that they had a distant relative that might want to take custody. They live in Oregon, have never met the boys, and have no contact with birth mom. We were given their email address and decided to meet at McDonald's on Feb. 14th.
I finally broke down one morning and as James was trying to calm me down, I blurted out "I just don't love these kids. I thought I loved all kids but I don't." I was at my breaking point. We were have 2 to 5 45 minute tantrums from Thing 1 a day, no matter what we were doing, Thing 2 was trying to run away or climb something, our cat was refusing to eat or groom himself so I was certain he would die...I was just done.
James was so much better at it than me. He kept calm and cool, he didn't yell like I kept finding myself doing on a regular basis. He was able to ignore things that I couldn't. I was counting down to the end of the 6 month placement.
We heard from their adoption social worker that they had a distant relative that might want to take custody. They live in Oregon, have never met the boys, and have no contact with birth mom. We were given their email address and decided to meet at McDonald's on Feb. 14th.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
A visit with Birth Mom--or so we thought...
They had a visit scheduled to see birth mom. We had been told that she wouldn't get a visit until the end of February so that they could settle in for a while but apparently not everyone was on the same page with that.
James took them to Shasta County for the visit. He dropped them off at the door, and the visit monitor took them from there. I guess the parents are to enter at a different spot so that there's no cross-over. He hung around, got some food, and came back just before the hour was up. The social worker stopped to talk to him for a while. I guess grandma attended the visit. Mom was going to come, but had a fight with grandma that morning and didn't show up.
The boys came back out, happy to see James, and got into the car. When they got home, though, that is when we began to see some behavior issues. Thing 1 got really belligerent and had a few more tantrums than usual over the next several days.
James took them to Shasta County for the visit. He dropped them off at the door, and the visit monitor took them from there. I guess the parents are to enter at a different spot so that there's no cross-over. He hung around, got some food, and came back just before the hour was up. The social worker stopped to talk to him for a while. I guess grandma attended the visit. Mom was going to come, but had a fight with grandma that morning and didn't show up.
The boys came back out, happy to see James, and got into the car. When they got home, though, that is when we began to see some behavior issues. Thing 1 got really belligerent and had a few more tantrums than usual over the next several days.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Making Observations and Getting Validations
While we were in Sacramento, we made some contact with various people connected with the boys. Their "adoption social worker" called, as did Thing 1's counselor. We heard from their county worker as well.
We met with the adoption social worker. She came over a couple of days after we got back home. The first thing I did was relate a bit about the issues we had had, particularly with the tantrums. She said that, yes, that was an issue with him at a previous home as well. She seemed surprised we didn't have any history there. I let her know that any time I mentioned it to FFA staff, they seemed dismissive or surprised that he was acting like that. The worker stated that if kids fell on a scale from 1 to 10 of easy to hard, our boys would be 8s or 9s. I don't know why, but I felt so much better after she said that.
We also met with the counselor. He, too, confirmed the tantrums and the issues with obsessive behaviors. He noted that, as we would have a bio mom visit during the next month, we might experience some behavioral issues. Mom, he said, is a very unsafe entity and her presence makes Thing 1 uneasy. Not that he doesn't love her, but he acts out and mom doesn't really have good skills for dealing with them even for a short visit. He said his goal was primarily to work with us on how to work with him.
We were making lots of observations. Like, Thing 2 only really likes to eat cheese and bananas and he walks on his toes. A lot. Which really worried me. Thing 2 would claim he was hungry all the time, but most especially when he was asked to do something. He also asks questions, but not the way I have experienced before with nieces and friends kids. He would ask the exact same question over and over, with the same inflection and tone akin to panic, regardless of the question. We finally had to start telling him that the question has been answered and we weren't going to answer it again.
Thing 2 ran from me on a regular basis. Once, with friends over, we had all the kids playing in the yard. He watched us, growing steadily closer to the edge of the back yard. When he seemed to determine that we were too far to catch him, he bolted. I chased him down but couldn't catch him until he reached the neighbor's yard--across the street. He also had almost no language. He could understand us, but he mainly only could say "no wan' that" and nod or shake his head.
We met with the adoption social worker. She came over a couple of days after we got back home. The first thing I did was relate a bit about the issues we had had, particularly with the tantrums. She said that, yes, that was an issue with him at a previous home as well. She seemed surprised we didn't have any history there. I let her know that any time I mentioned it to FFA staff, they seemed dismissive or surprised that he was acting like that. The worker stated that if kids fell on a scale from 1 to 10 of easy to hard, our boys would be 8s or 9s. I don't know why, but I felt so much better after she said that.
We also met with the counselor. He, too, confirmed the tantrums and the issues with obsessive behaviors. He noted that, as we would have a bio mom visit during the next month, we might experience some behavioral issues. Mom, he said, is a very unsafe entity and her presence makes Thing 1 uneasy. Not that he doesn't love her, but he acts out and mom doesn't really have good skills for dealing with them even for a short visit. He said his goal was primarily to work with us on how to work with him.
We were making lots of observations. Like, Thing 2 only really likes to eat cheese and bananas and he walks on his toes. A lot. Which really worried me. Thing 2 would claim he was hungry all the time, but most especially when he was asked to do something. He also asks questions, but not the way I have experienced before with nieces and friends kids. He would ask the exact same question over and over, with the same inflection and tone akin to panic, regardless of the question. We finally had to start telling him that the question has been answered and we weren't going to answer it again.
Thing 2 ran from me on a regular basis. Once, with friends over, we had all the kids playing in the yard. He watched us, growing steadily closer to the edge of the back yard. When he seemed to determine that we were too far to catch him, he bolted. I chased him down but couldn't catch him until he reached the neighbor's yard--across the street. He also had almost no language. He could understand us, but he mainly only could say "no wan' that" and nod or shake his head.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Pluses and Minuses
The huge plus to working where I do is that I work closely with the preschool department. My supervisor also supervises early childhood education. They expedited Thing 1's enrollment into preschool. He started that first Thursday.
The second full week we had them, I had a conference in Sacramento, so everyone went with me. While packing, we first pulled out their FFA issued duffle bags, but the boys got very uneasy seeing those, so I put them back and got out a regular suitcase for them. We went to our hotel, and proceeded to spend a very wet week with two moderately out of control children cooped up without a whole lot of entertainment options. James had them in the room most of the day while I did my work. Each evening we went to whatever indoor playgrounds we could find, spending an inordinate amount of time at either McDonald's or the mall. It was fairly miserable.
The second full week we had them, I had a conference in Sacramento, so everyone went with me. While packing, we first pulled out their FFA issued duffle bags, but the boys got very uneasy seeing those, so I put them back and got out a regular suitcase for them. We went to our hotel, and proceeded to spend a very wet week with two moderately out of control children cooped up without a whole lot of entertainment options. James had them in the room most of the day while I did my work. Each evening we went to whatever indoor playgrounds we could find, spending an inordinate amount of time at either McDonald's or the mall. It was fairly miserable.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Steel My Resolve...
One thing that did steel my resolve to at least keep the boys with us for the 6 months we had signed on for: we woke the first morning we had them. We told them we would be going bye bye later. Thing 1 walked over to where their bags lay, in the living room since I hadn't had time to put them away yet, and asked "But these are staying here, right?"
At the very least, we were going to keep them until a permanent option was on the horizon. Even if it killed us.
At the very least, we were going to keep them until a permanent option was on the horizon. Even if it killed us.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Going to bed angry
Our intake social worker came over that first weekend (on Sunday afternoon I think) to bring us more screen material. I sort of broke down to her. She was fairly unmoved by the difficulties I related, saying that she hadn't known anything about tantrums or the like, and telling me that it was normal for kids to act out in a new foster home. She said that we would hear from our actual worker the following week and was out the door.
We finally got a call from our worker on Wednesday or Thursday, nearly a week after we took custody. She came in and one of her first questions was, " On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being find a new home for these boys ASAP and 10 being I want to adopt them and keep them forever, where were we at?" I about lost it. I told her firmly that such a question was extremely unfair to ask after the events of the past week, we were completely dropped without any thought or care, these kids are hard and everyone is downplaying the difficulties and everyone is worried about the goddamn window screens instead of the fact that I can't do anything with these kids.
She said that we should have called on-call guy when things got bad and that he would have helped us out, come over and checked in. She said he should have called to see how we were doing. We told her we had called, when Thing 1 hurt himself, but we didn't know we were allowed to call for non-injury issues. We described the way in which our taking custody went down and the fact that on-call guy barely acknowledged us in his hurry out the door. (Later, she asked him about us. He claims that he had no idea that we were brand new foster parents and that the boys were a new placement or he would have checked up on us. No one told him...uh, right).
She, too, claimed that there was no history of the tantrums and severe outbursts or the running off that we had experiences so I began getting paranoid that I was somehow causing this behavior or that it was newly manifested. Or worse, that I was overreacting to their behavior. I went to bed really angry that night.
We finally got a call from our worker on Wednesday or Thursday, nearly a week after we took custody. She came in and one of her first questions was, " On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being find a new home for these boys ASAP and 10 being I want to adopt them and keep them forever, where were we at?" I about lost it. I told her firmly that such a question was extremely unfair to ask after the events of the past week, we were completely dropped without any thought or care, these kids are hard and everyone is downplaying the difficulties and everyone is worried about the goddamn window screens instead of the fact that I can't do anything with these kids.
She said that we should have called on-call guy when things got bad and that he would have helped us out, come over and checked in. She said he should have called to see how we were doing. We told her we had called, when Thing 1 hurt himself, but we didn't know we were allowed to call for non-injury issues. We described the way in which our taking custody went down and the fact that on-call guy barely acknowledged us in his hurry out the door. (Later, she asked him about us. He claims that he had no idea that we were brand new foster parents and that the boys were a new placement or he would have checked up on us. No one told him...uh, right).
She, too, claimed that there was no history of the tantrums and severe outbursts or the running off that we had experiences so I began getting paranoid that I was somehow causing this behavior or that it was newly manifested. Or worse, that I was overreacting to their behavior. I went to bed really angry that night.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
The start of weeks of sheer hell, terror and sleeplessness...
The first night was scary. We showed them their rooms and the new toys we got them. Thing 1 wanted Thing 2's toy--we went to walmart to exchange his for an identical one, as he was completely uninterested in the one we picked out for him. Thing 2 immediately grabbed any and every cup and can he found and drank out of it, so we spent the whole evening removing our drinks from his hands and replacing them with his own. They went to bed easier than I expected but we were wrung out when that magical hour came around.
I don't think the sinking feeling that we had made a mistake ever relented that first weekend. It felt they were just hell bent on getting into every thing they could find that would cause the greatest amount of damage. Thing 2 climbed. They both wanted to jump on or off things. They scared one of our cats so badly that he ran away--and has never returned.
And the tantrums, oh lord the tantrums. We would tell Thing 1 to do something, anything. Go into his room. Take off his shirt, go potty, anything and he would refuse or ignore us, so we would count down, if I get to three its time-out...one, two, three. No movement. So we would send him to timeout. Ignore. We would carry him to his bed. He would start screaming, hitting, grabbing tables, lamps, door frames, anything, thrashing about. We would put him in the bed and he would begin yelping and slamming himself into the bed frame, or pacing and go catatonic. It was terrifying.
I cried. If I wasn't actively doing something with them, I cried. I was so stressed I couldn't eat. I wasn't sleeping at all because I was afraid that they would wake up. We went to a friend's children's birthday party and so I was constantly paranoid that they would hurt themselves in a new environment, which Thing 1 did--falling off a swing on his back and scraping it up pretty badly. We called in and reported it to the on-call guy. He just said to clean it up. Didn't ask how things were going (though if I he had I might have lost it right there and told him to come and get them).
That first weekend was the start of about 3 to 4 weeks of sheer hell, terror and sleeplessness.
I don't think the sinking feeling that we had made a mistake ever relented that first weekend. It felt they were just hell bent on getting into every thing they could find that would cause the greatest amount of damage. Thing 2 climbed. They both wanted to jump on or off things. They scared one of our cats so badly that he ran away--and has never returned.
And the tantrums, oh lord the tantrums. We would tell Thing 1 to do something, anything. Go into his room. Take off his shirt, go potty, anything and he would refuse or ignore us, so we would count down, if I get to three its time-out...one, two, three. No movement. So we would send him to timeout. Ignore. We would carry him to his bed. He would start screaming, hitting, grabbing tables, lamps, door frames, anything, thrashing about. We would put him in the bed and he would begin yelping and slamming himself into the bed frame, or pacing and go catatonic. It was terrifying.
I cried. If I wasn't actively doing something with them, I cried. I was so stressed I couldn't eat. I wasn't sleeping at all because I was afraid that they would wake up. We went to a friend's children's birthday party and so I was constantly paranoid that they would hurt themselves in a new environment, which Thing 1 did--falling off a swing on his back and scraping it up pretty badly. We called in and reported it to the on-call guy. He just said to clean it up. Didn't ask how things were going (though if I he had I might have lost it right there and told him to come and get them).
That first weekend was the start of about 3 to 4 weeks of sheer hell, terror and sleeplessness.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Our Life was about to change...
On January 17th, I left work slightly early. I was too antsy to stay, knowing we were picking up our very first foster kids that day.
We headed over to the FFA. I knew this was a big moment, and actually grabbed James' arm and stopped him on the sidewalk outside the door, took a deep breath, and realized that our life was about to change.
In the waiting room, at the train table, were two very cute little boys, a receptionist I remembered having met before, and two women I didn't know. I assumed that we would be introduced to the foster mom. To be honest, I had sort of rehearsed how our meeting would go, asking questions about their eating habits, bedtimes, and schedule, wishing her luck, etc. Nuh-uh. One woman leaned over to the other, said something, and then walked out. I don't think she even made eye contact with me.
The receptionist began talking to us while we got down and started talking to the boys. They seemed comfortable, if disinterested in us, until James got up and began taking their bags to the car. The older boy (Thing 1) said "hey, where's that guy going with that?" I told him he was putting them in our car so that they could come and stay at our house. He then shouted, excitedly "That guy's gonna be my new daddy?!!" I asked if that was okay and he said yes.
The littler boy (Thing 2) didn't talk, but was way into playing with the trains. Then he got it into his little head that taking a run down the hall would be a great idea, so I had to chase him (little did I know that was going to become a pattern...)
We sat down to talk to the staff there. I asked when they last ate was. They didn't know. I asked when bedtime was. They said, well I guess you get to start creating a schedule. We were introduced to the on-call guy (we were heading into a 3-day weekend) whom we could call in case of emergency. He said hi, then sped out the door. We had noticed his car was already running in the parking lot when we arrived.
Barely 30 minutes later we were shown the door, our new charges in hand. We strapped them into the new car seats we got the day before and were on our (befuddled, overwhelmed) way.
Dinner was at Denny's, we stopped at the grocery store, and then took them home to see their new room
We headed over to the FFA. I knew this was a big moment, and actually grabbed James' arm and stopped him on the sidewalk outside the door, took a deep breath, and realized that our life was about to change.
In the waiting room, at the train table, were two very cute little boys, a receptionist I remembered having met before, and two women I didn't know. I assumed that we would be introduced to the foster mom. To be honest, I had sort of rehearsed how our meeting would go, asking questions about their eating habits, bedtimes, and schedule, wishing her luck, etc. Nuh-uh. One woman leaned over to the other, said something, and then walked out. I don't think she even made eye contact with me.
The receptionist began talking to us while we got down and started talking to the boys. They seemed comfortable, if disinterested in us, until James got up and began taking their bags to the car. The older boy (Thing 1) said "hey, where's that guy going with that?" I told him he was putting them in our car so that they could come and stay at our house. He then shouted, excitedly "That guy's gonna be my new daddy?!!" I asked if that was okay and he said yes.
The littler boy (Thing 2) didn't talk, but was way into playing with the trains. Then he got it into his little head that taking a run down the hall would be a great idea, so I had to chase him (little did I know that was going to become a pattern...)
We sat down to talk to the staff there. I asked when they last ate was. They didn't know. I asked when bedtime was. They said, well I guess you get to start creating a schedule. We were introduced to the on-call guy (we were heading into a 3-day weekend) whom we could call in case of emergency. He said hi, then sped out the door. We had noticed his car was already running in the parking lot when we arrived.
Barely 30 minutes later we were shown the door, our new charges in hand. We strapped them into the new car seats we got the day before and were on our (befuddled, overwhelmed) way.
Dinner was at Denny's, we stopped at the grocery store, and then took them home to see their new room
Frustration
We had our fair share of frustration from our Foster Family Agency (FFA) before we had even become official foster parents. The worst happened on Jan. 15th, just 2 days before we got custody of Thing 1 and Thing 2. The Executive Director of the FFA came over himself and did the home study. We showed him around the house. His first comment--from the smell in here, you can tell you have a cat. The tour went downhill from there. We showed him the boys' room. We had been gifted a beautiful crib/toddler bed. We had also purchased a wood/wrought iron day bed, almost new condition with a trundle underneath. He was unimpressed. He said that kids, when put in daybeds, feel like they're not permanent. I argued that it was a solid, permanent piece of furniture, unlike the particle board pieces of junk I could have purchased at walmart that fall apart after three weeks.
He also had an issue with our windows. Specifically, their lack of screens. Now, we live in a 70 year old rental home with huge rooms, a beautiful back yard, detached garage and a basement. The windows are typical of the period, with handles on the inside. To open, they swing outward. There is not a way to install screens--either the handles would be inaccessible or the windows would not be able to open. But this was a huge, hairy deal to him.
I came up with a work around, screening material velcro'd to the insides of the windows. Easier said than done, since each bit of velcro has to be hot-glued or sewn to the screen as the adhesive isn't strong enough. Plus, the expense. Yet, our intake social worker called the following evening to ask if we had screened all the windows yet! I am still ticked off about that!
He also had an issue with our windows. Specifically, their lack of screens. Now, we live in a 70 year old rental home with huge rooms, a beautiful back yard, detached garage and a basement. The windows are typical of the period, with handles on the inside. To open, they swing outward. There is not a way to install screens--either the handles would be inaccessible or the windows would not be able to open. But this was a huge, hairy deal to him.
I came up with a work around, screening material velcro'd to the insides of the windows. Easier said than done, since each bit of velcro has to be hot-glued or sewn to the screen as the adhesive isn't strong enough. Plus, the expense. Yet, our intake social worker called the following evening to ask if we had screened all the windows yet! I am still ticked off about that!
What's it like?
People ask what it is like working with our FFA. I will relate our first interactions with them to illustrate what it has been like.
When we decided to go through the process to become foster parents, we were given a lot of advice. Go through an FFA. No, go through the county. Do an FFA outside of the county. No, stay in county.
We chose the FFA that we did due to their reputation for being hands on and supportive, giving foster families more support, lots of family events, foster parent groups, and benefits to the kids. We were also told that they reimbursed at a higher rate, but as we just wanted to be parents (more on that later) and were not in it for the money, that was not a factor for us.
We submitted an interest form. A few weeks later we got a call and made an appointment. Then the appointment was cancelled on us at the last minute. We made a new one. That one, too, was cancelled last minute. We were mildly frustrated, but finally came in for an initial application. The woman we met with did not understand James' sense of humor at all...
We made a follow up appointment for a week or so later to turn in our paperwork. Then, on the day of that appointment, as we were driving over there, the woman we had met with, whom we were headed out to see, called to apologize for cancelling our previous appointment and make a new, introductory appointment! We explained carefully that we were on our way AT THAT MOMENT to see her for our SECOND appointment. We hung up with her. She called back immediately to say, no we're supposed to meet at YOUR house for your home inspection...
So, after a very flaky and confusing phone conversation we agreed that she did NOT set up a home inspection with us, and we would meet at her office. I must say, this gave me serious misgivings about working with them.
After the process moving like molasses for two months, on January 15th, 2014, we completed our homestudy process to become a certified foster home. We are fostering through a local Foster Family Agency (FFA). They sped up our process because on 1/14 they had two boys who were in need of placement. The foster family they were with (who had them for 2 weeks) had put in a 7-day notice. We were told "we have no where else for them to go. But you don't have to take them if you don't want to." Of course we were going to take them!
We only knew that they were little--2 and 4 years old. We were told that the older boy was clingy and had potty issues (that was the reason the current foster family was moving them). We were scared to death and totally excited. About $400 at Walmart and Costco later we had bought all manner of stuff we thought we would need...good thing we had just gotten our tax refund back!
When we decided to go through the process to become foster parents, we were given a lot of advice. Go through an FFA. No, go through the county. Do an FFA outside of the county. No, stay in county.
We chose the FFA that we did due to their reputation for being hands on and supportive, giving foster families more support, lots of family events, foster parent groups, and benefits to the kids. We were also told that they reimbursed at a higher rate, but as we just wanted to be parents (more on that later) and were not in it for the money, that was not a factor for us.
We submitted an interest form. A few weeks later we got a call and made an appointment. Then the appointment was cancelled on us at the last minute. We made a new one. That one, too, was cancelled last minute. We were mildly frustrated, but finally came in for an initial application. The woman we met with did not understand James' sense of humor at all...
We made a follow up appointment for a week or so later to turn in our paperwork. Then, on the day of that appointment, as we were driving over there, the woman we had met with, whom we were headed out to see, called to apologize for cancelling our previous appointment and make a new, introductory appointment! We explained carefully that we were on our way AT THAT MOMENT to see her for our SECOND appointment. We hung up with her. She called back immediately to say, no we're supposed to meet at YOUR house for your home inspection...
So, after a very flaky and confusing phone conversation we agreed that she did NOT set up a home inspection with us, and we would meet at her office. I must say, this gave me serious misgivings about working with them.
After the process moving like molasses for two months, on January 15th, 2014, we completed our homestudy process to become a certified foster home. We are fostering through a local Foster Family Agency (FFA). They sped up our process because on 1/14 they had two boys who were in need of placement. The foster family they were with (who had them for 2 weeks) had put in a 7-day notice. We were told "we have no where else for them to go. But you don't have to take them if you don't want to." Of course we were going to take them!
We only knew that they were little--2 and 4 years old. We were told that the older boy was clingy and had potty issues (that was the reason the current foster family was moving them). We were scared to death and totally excited. About $400 at Walmart and Costco later we had bought all manner of stuff we thought we would need...good thing we had just gotten our tax refund back!
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