Saturday, March 28, 2015

One Month Early

Venesa had hyped up this event for about a week or two: Touch a Truck at Darlington Raceway. I wasn't excited about paying $5 a head, but I had to agree that our Dillon boys would probably love it. The flyer promised everything from big rigs to emergency vehicles.  The kids were amped and ready to climb, touch and crawl through every vehicle at the racetrack.  And the weather was perfect... which made it even more confusing when we pulled up to the raceway and it was totally... empty. What in the world? I mean, it says right here on the flyer she gave me...

Touch a Truck... 10:00 am to 3:00 pm at the Darlington Raceway... in Darlington... on Saturday... APRIL 25.   

Oh wait.  Today is March 25. Nice. We're a little early.

But all wasn't lost. As luck would have it, we heard some serious engine revving on the drive home, and decided to make a right and investigate.  Welcome to Darlington Dragway.  The consolation price that won the day. Mommy... I guess you're off the hook.

Monday, March 9, 2015


When our previous foster placement left, Venesa and I knew one thing for sure: There would be a sizable time gap between this placement and the next one.  We were tired.  More like whopped, really.  Physically, emotionally, spiritually, and any other -ally word you can think of.  We were done. We needed a break.  A long one.  A don't call me, we'll call you, don't even think about bringing us a foster child break.  We had a brief discussion about how long the break would be, but we quickly came up with an answer of, "we'll know when it's time." And sure enough, that's how it happened.  For about four months, I had gotten so good at saying no to placement calls that, at some point, I think I simply stopped listening.  Details didn't matter.  Boy.  Girl.  Old. Young.  Short-term (ha... we've heard that one before), long-term.  It didn't matter.  "We're not taking placements now, thank you."  Click.  Back to Pleasantville.

In hindsight, I can't even pinpoint what made this particular phone call different; but for the first time in months... I listened.  And then I didn't say no.  Instead, I asked the case worker for a few minutes to call my wife and run it by her.  And I don't think Venesa and I were 8 seconds into our conversation before she said, "take 'em." I guess somehow we both just knew.  I think that extent of being on one accord made it doubly exciting for me.  It just made it seem right. Vacation was awesome (because after our last placement, having just our biological three was most certainly like a vacation... heck... it felt like we were cheating).... But it was time to get back to work.

If nothing else, Justin hit the jackpot.  Not one brother, but two.  It'll be interesting to see how this goes.  Anyhow, here we sit: three boys and two girls, and not a single seat left in the minivan.  Let the good times roll.