So, a week ago I get a call from the placement coordinator. There were four children to be placed -- three of whom were boys -- and we could "take our pick". She had kind of pre narrowed it down to two. One was a kindergartener who would likely end up being adoptable. The other was a 3 year old that would likely eventually be placed with his siblings. We opted for the 3 year old. Actually, I made the decision based on the little background information I was able to get. My husband didn't have much say in the matter this time. Woops.
So it turns out that the 3 year old is more like 2.5--the youngest kid we've ever had in placement. And he's adorable. And I know this is going to be a tough one. He came with the clothes on his back. So I had to go and stock up on clothes, diapers, etc. It was kind of fun. Though it was sort of weird checking out his clothes' sizes in the middle of the stores. I felt like a kidnapper or something. And my husband and I had planned to celebrate our anniversary the day we got him, so we ended up having a very interesting dinner with three. Actually it was a lot of fun (though we still do need that time alone together sometime soon).
So the first hearing was Thursday. And the next one is this Thursday. So we just wait between times and love this little guy up. It's good to get the "parenting practice" (how many parents get a trial run?" and we're learning a lot in the process--like how to get the stroller up and secrets like parking next to the cart return so you don't have to travel so far to the store. But there is something to be said about knowing that it's not a permanent thing. Don't get me wrong. I'd love to "keep" this little guy. But I know he's not mine to keep. It will break my heart to see him go, particularly if the decision that is made is not the one I would like. But there's only so much you can do. There will be more cute kids down the road and sooner or later, I will have a son again.