When my husband and I first became foster parents it was our intention to foster children who were no longer infants or toddlers. We made a request that children ages 3 and up be placed in our home. As is the foster system in our county, no one cared about what we requested. At first we got no calls, then we got calls for sibling groups for whom we had no bedrooms and then no calls again. Long time readers of this blog may remember that on the day CD arrived, it was as a result of a phone call I had made to a higher up in the child welfare food chain. I complained that we were not getting calls and told the higher up that we could take up to two children (as long as they were the same sex as we had only one extra bedroom) and we asked that the children be younger than our biological children.
I wanted older children because, as a mother, if I had a choice, children would be born at the age of three. Three is when the real funs starts, at least, for me. So this higher up woman took my call seriously, walked my complaint over to the placement department and ten minutes later we were called about CD. CD was 17 months at that time. I couldn't say no just because she was younger than I had originally signed up for because it just felt so wrong to complain and then turn down a placement ten minutes later.
Today is CD's fifth birthday. She is not a baby, not a toddler. She colors in princess coloring books, she does puzzles on my iPad, can find her own clips on youtube, she plays dollhouse, she bakes with me, she went to her first movie (Frozen of course) and in just half a year, she will be in kindergarten. While sometimes that placement call seems like a lifetime ago, at other times I can't believe that CD is so big already. It's a pretty incredible thing, this parenting thing.