It’s over. I should move to Staten Island or something. I called the police on a crazy party on the roof of my building. I’ve become that curmudgeon person who ruined it. I’m all, “I’ve got kids in here. The roof could collapse with all those people (probably not). It’s not safe. Did I mention I have kids, no, make that babies here?!”
Maybe it was the inch of piss in the elevator. Or the fact that I know the kids toys and roof set-up are being trashed right now.
Sorry underaged drinkers. I’m sure there’s another rooftop party within a block’s radius.
Runfostermama had her adoption homestudy last night. The social worker(?), according to Runfostermama, came in a giant 1970s van filled with close to 20 people. The van of people sat in front of Runfostermama’s apartment for the entire 2-hour homestudy and the social worker(?) kept running to the window saying he had to go.
What the heck?
I finally let Sandy’s foster care case worker know that I have a pro bono attorney. I was soooo nervous to tell her. I couldn’t read her reaction.
I may have to do one of those 365 days (or nights rather) of the girls sleeping next to one another. The newest thing is that they completely switch beds after I put them down. It doesn’t matter which bed I put them in, or if I separate them or let them start off together- they have to assert their independence to a new location.
Literally once a week something happens, be it a meeting is called or someone mentions how great things are going and my stomach drops and I have to ask again, if the “goal” is being changed. In other words, did the plan change and now Sandy is going home with family? There’s always hesitation because nothing is set in stone. It’s such a crappy way to live.
I’m meeting up for dinner with 2 close friends I’ve had here in the city for 10+ years. 2 of us now have 2 kids each and 1 doesn’t have kids. I keep thinking “Wait, I’m one of the ones with 2 kids?” It’s so strange still.
I’ve gone from being anti-television to being so, so soooo grateful for it at 5:30am on the weekend.
And randomness part #2: I always thought Bert from Sesame Street was just a grumpy bump on a log, but clearly Ernie is a an impossible jerk.
This morning Asia came in bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as always and asked “Have you seen Clementine play soccer?”
Uhm, no. Especially since she doesn’t walk yet. But Asia sat Clementine in a corner facing the wall and gave her a ball and it was
I’ve ever seen.
Men with Down Syndrome are infertile. So no need to track them down for a paternity test (well, technically there have been 3 confirmed cases of Down Syndrome fathers in the world).