She’s been home 382 days.
382 days and nights of rules and consistency when it comes to mealtimes. 382 days of requiring manners and sitting nicely through “family time” even if she didn’t want to eat what was put on her plate. 382 days of screaming and throwing food. Of redirection and removal from the family table. Of plain not eating. It has.been.exhausting.
But tonight. Tonight she sat. She used the manners of which we knew she was capable of using. And she ate. And she didn’t scream or throw food. And we didn’t have to redirect or remove. And it.was.glorious.
Friends, this is reality of fostercare. And while it is so very worth it, it is so very hard. So tonight we celebrate Day 382. Because the frustration of mealtimes during days 1-381 has suddenly melted away, and tonight feels pretty darn amazing.