Sweet babykins spent a week with us.
On Tuesday I called the triage caseworker to ask about forms for daycare (a triage worker is someone who helps with initial placement of kids until a more permanent caseworker can get assigned). Before I could ask my question, she let me know that baby had a relative who was “checking out,” which is county speak for passing a background check and having a suitable home. She was kind and sympathetic. And I was sad.
On Wednesday around 1:30 she called and told me custody had officially transferred to the relative the day before, and we needed to get the baby to her family ASAP, and could I bring her and her things downtown to the county office?
So I packed up the few spare items baby came with, some extra onesies, a bunch of formula, the open container of oatmeal cereal. I dug a pair of cute Nike sneakers out of the attic to send her off in. She left with two bags when she had arrived with one.
Then I popped over to daycare where our beloved daycare provider looked bereft as she handed me the babe, and baby and I went downtown. I left baby with meager instructions about what she likes with the triage worker, kissed baby goodbye, and that was that.
Tiny is taking it well so far but I think there will be tears in the morning when she goes to wake “her” baby and remembers she isn’t there. I just told Tiny baby went to live with her family and she seemed to accept that explanation. It has got to be so strange to be Tiny who is always here, watching kids come and go. We have had other short term placements since Tiny has been here and she just takes it in stride, but it has to be hard on her.
Kiddo will be a tearful mess when I tell her baby has moved on. Ugh. I’m dreading that. She is old enough to understand a great deal more than Tiny. And I’m sure Kiddo remembers her less-than-successful return to her father when she was 5, and she worries about the kids who leave us.
Tiny and I are eating Cheez-Its and drinking juice, and commiserating by watching Super Hero Girls Teen Power, which is her current fav tv show. It’s awful. So I’m blogging so my brain doesn’t explode in response to the squealing teen girl sounds emanating from my television.
Tomorrow I’ll pick up the baby’s room, put up the awesome posters my friend C sent for decorating that room, work, play with Tiny, and go on with life.
I’ve already started wondering who the next kid who joins us will be, and how long they’ll stay.
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