11:30 PM, Wednesday night.
The deck is comfy, though dampness fills the air from five straight days of heavy rains. Crickets and cicadas are producing a chorus of varying timbres and rhythms.
Tomorrow is my last day of teaching for the week, ending the first week of the academic year’s schedule.
It’s been a great week of lessons, but there’s been the underlying stress of the interstate adoption compact’s conclusion, as well as doctor visits, and getting my son’s medications adjusted.
While I am not terribly worried about the interstate compact, my self, I’m infuriated to see my son’s anxiety caused by bureaucratic ineptness. I’ve absolutely no faith in governmental personnel in the foster care/adoption world. I’m disgusted that so many children in foster care slip through the cracks, but now they are dangling my son’s future, but more importantly, his peace of mind, and the sense of security I’ve built for him.
I honestly believe children in foster care are merely numbers and dollar signs to a great many involved in the process.
Tomorrow is an early day with more doctor visits, and a lengthy day of teaching.