Waiting is Hard

That was one of the mantras that the 2nd blond brother and I shared regularly. Waiting for his turn in the bathroom. Waiting for the pledge of allegiance at school to begin. Waiting for his turn on Candyland. Middle brother had a hard time waiting even for his turn at a drinking fountain when he was second in line and the kid before him was already walking away. We spoke those words so regularly that I could say, "Waaaaiiiii--" and he would immediately finish "--ting is HARD."

It is really hard. Sass and I are figuring this one out in the hardest possible way. She is on her way out. She has been on her way out for what seems like a month now. But the big ball of bureaucracy that is the child welfare system is holding things up. Somewhere out there, whether it is still in the form of an unwritten report or in the form of an unsigned (by a zillion people) approval, is Sass's green light to leave the foster care system. But she is still here. And we wait. We wait to plan Halloween. We wait to schedule afterschool activities. Mostly though, she waits, and I wait with her, to start her life in what should be her forever home.

And so she ends every weekend, and starts every week, with a telephone exchange with the relative who, like us, is waiting. "Maybe I'll get to see you this week." says her relative. "Yeah, maybe" Sass replies. "We just don't know how long we have to wait."