They came, they saw, they conquered!

Everyone is trying to adjust around here.

Wanted to fire off an update this morning on the pandemonium that has been the last week and a half, as I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever have the chance again. Since we got the call last Monday that three children would be coming into our home, our lives and surroundings have been transformed.

Tuesday of last week we prepared the house all day for a home visit from our caseworkers at the agency. We will now be switched from our pre-placement caseworker to the post-placement girl. Wednesday they both came with a binder of forms we will have to keep up with. Doctor visits, allowance, incident reports, activity calendar, clothing inventory, and a page for every pill that goes in a child’s mouth - it all has to be documented. Quite a task, but they did tell me teachers (like myself) are usually great at it. I can understand why. We walked through the house and re-checked that all the safety requirements were still being met.

The remainder of the week is a mind-boggling rush for everything you need – and some stuff you don’t – to care for three kids. I’ve been living at Target; we’ve been through Babies R Us, Big Lots, consignment stores…and then there are the helpers – our friends and family who have taken us shopping, given us gift cards, even taken up collections of stuff from generous supermoms who have never met us or the kids. These new belongings are both wonderful and intimidating. I’ve stood in aisles of stores near tears because of the choices I don’t know how to make. Last night I asked a stranger in the Target diaper section what to do about our two-year-old (since they haven’t given us her weight, and diapers are by weight). You could see the confidence in my parenting skills all over his face.

Then there’s our house. Shawn and I have joked for years about a line from the movie/musical Dreamgirls, the Beyoncé version. In one of the newer, Oscar-nominated songs she belts out, “I am alone at a crossroads! I’m not at home in my own home!” When I say we’ve joked about it I guess I mean I’ve sung it loudly and he has laughed at me. Regardless, suddenly I am not at home in my own home, not in the least. What was our guest room is now the girls’ room complete with bunk beds and toy storage and lots of pink. The office/library? Gone. It’s now the boy’s room, covered in footballs, baseballs, basketballs…It never occurred to us where OUR stuff was going to go. For right now, the answer to that is a bunch of boxes in the garage.

We found out late last week that we would get to have one visit with the kids before they came. That visit was Monday morning, at our house. We worked tirelessly to get things ready. I wanted the rooms to look just right so the kids would know we made a great space for them. The usual Sunday night dinner with my family centered on what snack and activity to have ready. It was a long, nearly sleepless night for me as we waited to see the children for the first time. And then there they were!

Out of the cars of our caseworker and their CPS social worker tumbled three sleepy little angels. Shawn and I stared through the front windows to catch the first glimpse of what may someday be our children. They were shy at first, but warmed up quickly. The oldest girl is the leader and the most outgoing, surprising me with bold statements like “I want to see my room” and “Can I put my pillow pet on my bed?” The boy is the most active, and also the most particular. It’s common to see some OCD from kids who have lived in chaos, and I’ve already spotted it in him. And last but not least the tiniest little punkin, barely two, clutching everything she carried close to her chest and eyeing us suspiciously. It took her almost an hour to let go of the doll, blanket, pacifier and backpack that she surrounded herself with since she stepped out of the car. She never did let me hold her. But that’s normal.

They tore through the house, playing, observing, questioning. They had apples and Oreos. They colored. They jumped all over the new bunk beds. They met the pets, or at least the ones that weren’t hiding. At times I wanted to hide myself. What do you do in that situation? I watched them in disbelief. They are very cute. They’re tall. The girls have brown hair and huge brown eyes. The boy looks like Shawn’s coloring, hair that is more sandy blonde and eyes some mix of blue and green. They seemed to understand they are moving here. They asked if they could call me “mom.” What a loaded question that is. On the one hand, it’s what I’ve been waiting for all this time. On the other, it’s a sad indication of how they’ve been raised…in homes where whoever is in charge is your mom.

The kids filled our home with excitement and our heads with responsibilities. I learned so fast that it’s not really possible to watch all three of them at once. Even with Shawn, myself, and two caseworkers, we had our hands full. Still, the children were polite and cleaned up after themselves and were easily redirected from misbehavior. They were dressed very nicely and clean and happy, at least on the outside. Once Shawn saw their little faces plastered with smiles and their general joie de vivre, he was at ease. I was more concerned with how WE were doing, asking the caseworker, is this ok? The room, the snack, the toys…are we doing this right?

Now, it’s T minus two days until they come to stay. On Friday morning our caseworker will come early with more paperwork. At around 10 a.m. the kids will arrive with their CPS caseworker in a van with their only belongings, whatever they are. Our to-do list is evolving from the larger car seat and bunk bed items down to the day-to-day minutia type stuff. Since there’s no way to really be ready I’ve been focusing on the basics. What do we need to be able to feed, bathe, clothe, and care for them starting August 2^nd. There’s so much more to do, like finding day cares and schools and therapists, and in two weeks I’ll have to report back to work. But for now I’m hoarding bug spray and body wash and baby wipes and desperately wanting to know how anybody does this. How my parents did it. How will I do it? We’ll know soon enough. I’m just so glad we get to find out.