The Waiting

Incase you are wondering what is going on with our family, here is more than you probably wanted to know!
We are going to do respite for a 17 mo. old.  From March 31st- April 5th. 
What is respite?  Think of it as baby sitting.  If you want or need to leave your foster child for more than 24 hrs.  you must leave them with a licensed foster care giver in a licensed foster home.  So a family at our foster agency, is going on vacation but the birth mom does not want her daughter to leave the state.  So they have to find respite care for her while they are gone.  So we are excited to get back to work!

Today we got a call that there is a 1 month old baby girl ready to be released from the hospital and needed long term foster care.  I cannot explain the rush of adrenaline that starts pumping through me when I get these emails and calls.  It is much like when you look at the pregnancy test and the positive sign begins to appear.  All of a sudden reality hits and things get real. 
So we said we will take her!  But apparently babies, particularly baby girls, are quite... popular.  So I waited to hear all day if we got chosen.  Day dreaming about what our life was going to be like with a new born in the house.  It was hard to focus.  I waited all day.  The longer I waited the more I realized we had not been chosen as her foster parents.  Later, through email, it was confirmed.
Bummer.  This is the strangest feeling.  Not knowing what my life will look like in the near future.  One email can flip all our plans on their head.  For me it makes it hard to plan things.  I only make plans that I know I can follow through with even if I had an extra passenger. 
For now, I am trying to be patient.  Trying to trust that things will work out for the best.

On another note.  My O.  My sweet, sensitive, anxious, perceptive, O.  Today he melted down.  He does this every few weeks... maybe more.  I thought it was because I scolded him for repeating something a neighbor girl said yesterday.  But he said that was only part of it.  I don't want to go into too much detail for his privacy, but part of what he said is that I don't love him and he is never getting out of bed again. Jake did eventually get him to come down for dinner and the rest of the night was normal.  At bed time he finally told me what it was that made him think that I don't love him.  Get ready for this: 
Have any of you seen the commercial where the computer guys are in the ceiling of the conference room improving their internet?  The guy is on the ladder and asks the girl if it hurt when she fell from heaven and she responds, "Yeah, Kinda."
So the other day I was on the computer.  I could hear O and Jake in the other room and O keeps prodding Jake,  "Go ask her, go ask her."  And Jake, who is watching Gonzaga get pounced in the NCAA tournament, responds multiple times, "Ok, at a commercial."  O couldn't wait. He comes in giggling and asks, "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"  I smiled and answered "Yeah, Kinda."  He ran back to the family room cracking up and bugged Jake to, "Go ask her!"  Until finally, a commercial break.  Jake pulled himself off the couch to appease his son.  This time I had time to think of my response.  So when the pick up line was delivered, I announced,  "Yes!  Take me home!"  leaped into his arms and gave him a kiss.  Ok, I tried to leap into his arms... I tried.  We all laughed and they went back to the game.
So there you have it.  The reason my son thinks I don't love him.  Did you catch it? 
I only said,  "Yeah, Kinda."  to him but jumped up and kissed daddy.  Kids read into EVERYTHING we do.  How many "I love you's" does it take to make up for all the impatient mornings and frustrating bed times?  How many hugs and kisses do I have to give out to build him back up after a day at school?   And the little unintentional things I do that he misunderstands or misreads Oiy Vey! 
I do recognize that the whole melt down was not due to that one incident.  Everything piles up and then he fixates on one moment that made him feel bad and that is the source of ALL his self hate and it all unravels from there. 
So we had a talk about different kinds of love.  I love him different than I love Daddy and so on.  Tricky things for kids to understand.  But bottom line, my heart has room to love everyone.  Not more or less, just different.  And after lots of hugs, kisses, and I love you's he is tucked in bed.  Not for the rest of his life, just until morning.  Another crisis averted!