The Backwoods

Where we teeter between our love of modern convenience and the yearning for something long past; a world where neighbors knew your name and a “Friend Request” was eye contact and a smile.

What’s One More?

Posted · 7 Comments

This afternoon, as Dan woke for his night shift 800 miles away, he received my text that we were taking in a seven year old boy for a few days.

“He’s cute,” I said.  “I want to keep him.”

I like to harass Dan with such statements from afar.  I can imagine his hair falling out with each word.  It freaks him out when I say these things…he can never tell when I’m serious.  Usually, I’m serious…and he knows this.  But when I texted the circumstances surrounding the boys placement, Dan responded with, “Spoil him rotten.  Give him a pony.”

Well, that ruined all my fun.

With each adoption we both adamantly claim we’re DONE with fostering.  We put our foot down…to each other…and dare the other to even mention taking any more kids.  What part of ‘no more kids’didn’t you understand, Dan said with the last ten placements.  The ‘no more kids’ part, I tell him with a smile.

Each of our kids…and kids of our past…have come to us in different manners, from different histories.  And except the ‘emergencies’ like this one today, they’ve each come after a memorable conversation.

We once got a call at five a.m. from a worker who asked if we would be willing to take two kids.  One two months and one eighteen months.  “But there’s a catch,” she said. “The baby is HIV positive.”

In my half awake state I said, “Let me go ask Dan.  He’s the stay at home parent right now.”

A few minutes later I arrived back at the phone.  “He’s nervous about the baby…he’s not sure about having a newborn.”

“Her age?” the tired caseworker said.  “He’s worried about her age…not her HIV?”

I guess they didn’t get a lot of that.

When we were asked to pick up Anthony four years ago, it was an emergency situation.  His prior foster parent had dropped him off at the children’s service office and said, “NOT ONE MORE NIGHT.”

Apparently he wasn’t the sweetie-pie for her that he is for us….cough, cough…ahem.  I called Dan, told him the situation.  We talked, we discussed, we hummed and hawed.  Finally Dan said, “I don’t know why we’re talking about it.  We both know we’re going to say yes.”  And so Anthony, the socialist dictator, was added to our family.

By far, though, my favorite placements are the ones that happen while some member of the family is gone.  It’s always fun to spring it on someone.

Like tonight, when Billy comes in off the boat, he’ll go straight to bed. Tomorrow morning he’ll wake and there will be one more small boy than usual.  And won’t he be surprised!  Wait…no he won’t…cause in this family, nothing is surprising at all.

7 Responses to "What’s One More?"
  1. Leah B says:

    Oh, and also, you and your husband are amazing! I forgot to mention that previously, but you two (and all the kids in your family) are doing proper kindness. Thank God for people like you!

  2. Leah B says:

    My husband have talked about taking in foster kids. We have 4 children of our own and hopefully will have more, but it’s just so scary to think of these sweet, innocent kids who have no place, and no one, in the world. Is it crazy to think like that? A lot of people have old me it would do damage to our birth children, but I’m not sure.

  3. Sally72 says:

    You really are my super-hero. 

  4. Kim Turner says:

    You are an amazing family! 
    The only time I surprised my husband with a foster was when he came home from a business trip and found a baby chicken in our house. 
    Yes, a baby chick. 
    It was part of a group of baby chicks ordered over the internet, shipped across the country and housed specifically for a 1 year old’s birthday party. “For the kids to play with.” Needless to say, this one got hurt when the kids were too rough and pulled on her leg almost breaking it. Imagine that! So rather then leave her to suffer and die I took her home, took her to the vet, and gave her medication twice a day until she was able to walk again. Have you ever tried to give a chicken medication with one of those little syringes? Oh my!
    We named her Hazel and when she was better we took her to a local farm where she will live out her life laying eggs with about 10 other chickens. 

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