Graduation

Dustin and I had our very last GPS class this past Wednesday night. It was bittersweet. We have grown to enjoy the company of our teachers and classmates. We hate that it's so late and we are basically zombies by the time the class lets out, but we loved it none the less. We learned a lot, but we still have so many questions. Who doesn't have questions about parenting a child who came from a broken home? It's a frightening situation. The only thing we've raised together is our almost two year old Pomeranian, Puppy (originally named Spartacus). He is pretty awesome, but we still don't know anything about raising a child. We both have tons of experience with children. We know how to keep them safe, fed, and happy. I know how to teach a child how to read and how to tie their shoes. I know that you can't leave a toddler alone and that schedules are crucial for babies. I know that's every light socket should be covered and I scan recite the "potty song" backwards in my sleep. I am just scared of "raising" a child. I am responsible for teaching a child right from wrong and teach a child morals and manners. These things are pretty much "pre installed" by the time I meet a child. We took turns speaking Wednesday night. Everyone thanked the teachers and mentioned how they planned to stay in touch with one another, but, what surprised me the most is everyone said they were excited yet terrified. Dustin and I are the youngest couple, and one of the two couples without children. It's reassuring knowing we aren't the only ones terrified. We are so excited though, and we cannot wait until we have our second in home visit. We are ready to be licensed. We've done so much paperwork, homework, preparation, doctors visits, etc. We are ready to be that's much closer too getting that phone call...

With that being said, my husband took my dad to the Bama game today and I've been home alone all day. I managed to clean house, do a million loads of laundry, and put out Christmas decorations. I was also able to box up and label all of the clothes we have collected for foster care and I have them stored away in the closet ever so neatly. 

This is one side of our foster child bedroom closet. It is piled high with boxes marked with gender and size!