Saturday Night

Saturday night, we went to a street dance with a bunch of friends from work. It was a fabulous evening.

My dear friends M & J announced they are expecing their 4th child. And I was genuinely 'stoked' about this news. I was so happy that there would be one more of them around. They are fabulous parents, and their children are not perfect but they are pretty darn close. In public. At home. Even on road trips. They are just amazing children.

They have a 4-year old daughter who wore me out with chasing and dancing and tickling and giggling and I sincerely am not exaggerating when I say that I could never tire of making her laugh. She is a joy to entertain and gives back way more than she gets. What a wonderful evening we had, DH and I, with these friends that night. A cherished evening indeed!

Also that night, I had a great conversation with my friend G's wife about foster care and the improvements they are making at their home to become licensed. She gave me some great advice about what brand of child locks to buy, what kind of furniture and car seats she has purchased, etc. and how the process has been going with them. She showed me pictures of the kids they have been providing respite care for, and was genuinely sad that I could not adopt them. She explained how she is having difficulty right now, because their soon-to-be adoptive parents have renamed the kids who are 4, 2, and infant. She says it is most difficult for the 4-year-old, as you might imagine, who has forever been called something and will now be called something completely different. I cannot fathom renaming these children It just seems wrong to me, so selfish, in this case anyway. I feel bad for the kids, and also feel bad for my friend's wife, who will be losing these children when they move into their adoptive parents' home here in a few weeks.

I'm still worried about the basement issue and so I broke down and emailed the agency today to see if we couldn't discuss the basement, so I could either feel confident that it will be all right, or start freaking out and looking for a new home. Also, G's wife has suggested her agency and really feels they would be better for us, so I called and left a message for their foster care worker. But the voicemail on her phone wasn't her talking , it was just an automated cell phone service repeating back the number, so now I'm paranoid I've called and left a message at the wrong number. Must be patient and hope for the best tomorrow.