I am a person that needs to be an expert on a thing before actually engaging it. So,  from the outset, it was an infuriating process. I fell for the PSAs…”You don’t have to be perfect to be a perfect parent!”  I totally believed that it would be simple. I thought they needed foster parents? Well, they do need foster parents but, at least where we live, you must hunt and find the magical trap door. I went on a wild goose chase. I had to literally hunt for information. I couldn’t find anyone to tell me the process. I talked to one person who sent me to another and on and on. I never did find anyone who would just talk to me honestly. I read websites and called around for about 6 months just trying to piece together enough information to feel about halfway comfortable with picking a starting place. It was most definitely a litmus test for how serious we were. When I look back on my search, I am baffled that I didn’t feel warned about how the story would go.

     I was finally put in touch with a social worker at our local Department of Social Services. She gave me a very vague, not particularly hopeful, spiel about the process. Hubby Guy and I decided that I had searched long enough and had found the best version of bad information available. We decided to go for it. From there we were scheduled for training. It was 6 weeks of a bunch of badly presented topics that ended up having little semblance to what it was like to have foster children in your actual home. The hallmark of that training was the unintelligible mashup of policy, facts, and opinions that had us walk out of every meeting bewildered. 

     Toward the end of the training was a home study. That part, in my opinion, was way easier than it should have been. We basically just had to demonstrate financial stability and show adequate space for a child. I don’t know if the policy has changed, but at the time we entered the system one only needed to have 50 square feet of space for the child and 2 dresser drawers available for them. That blew my mind. Needless to say, we passed that without issue.

     Then came the tricky part. The wait. We were told that we could be as picky as we wanted. We were told that we may have to wait longer but we could be picky. My criteria were female, walking, talking, and potty trained. I didn’t consider that very picky. Apparently, it was. We waited almost a year before our first call.