Avian Flu
I'm pretty sure I have it. I saw a bird in the yard just the other day, and I'm sure it was contaminated, and I went and caught it. Either that, or it's just November and I've got my yearly chestquake going on. Whatever, it wasn't enough to keep me from work.Speaking of which, wonder of wonders, I actually made my big deadline on Tuesday, clearing the way for a period of less-intense work and more bandwidth available to deal with those millions of children you hear about that desperately need foster homes. I've even got tomorrow and next Friday off as comp time for the hundred or two extra hours I put in over the last month. It would be a good day to come calling and wrap things up, wouldn't you say, "Vicki"?
I really didn't mean for this site to degenerate into a personal diary. I wanted to provide sparkling wit and incisive commentary on the challenges presented to modern foster parents, and perhaps a tip or two for others in the same situation on how to deal with or avoid the kinds of problems we encounter. But I have to admit, dealing with the bureaucracy--or more accurately, getting the bureaucracy to admit we even exist--has been even more trying than I expected.
So I guess I'm reduced to mumbling to myself and whining to whoever stops by to check up on my "life". Sigh. Such is life.
But whatever you do, don't believe that they really need foster parents. It can't possibly be true, after the amount of flak we've had to dodge and the tremendous ignoring we've had to endure for many weeks now. And I'm pretty sure it's not "Vicki". I don't know who it is, but I just have a feeling she's as trapped as we are in this quicksand.
Is there anybody steering the ship for these kids? Tune in next time. I'm going on the offensive when I'm feeling better, and if there's not some movement, or at least acknowledgement of our existence, it's gonna get ugly.
Real ugly.
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