And... done.

For the moment, at least.

The kiddos went back to their foster family on Sunday afternoon around 3.  I have to admit that I'd wondered how they kids would react to leaving.  They'd seemed to adjust so well and were incredibly affectionate with me.  I kind of worried that they'd be all sad to leave and maybe not even recognize the foster parents (I know, I know).  I had to laugh at myself because when the foster parents arrived, the kids were very glad to see them and E, the oldest, when almost immediately to their room and got their bags.  Well, alrighty then. 

It took a little while to get the car seats switched from my car to the foster family's truck, so we hung out in the front yard, and I gave the kids hugs and told them goodbye, and they clambered into the truck.  Then as J was getting strapped in he started to cry.  Just looked at me and cried and cried.  Oh.  It made me tear up.  (And feel a little better. Yes, I'm ashamed to admit it, but there it is.) 

It's so hard to believe that I may never see these guys again.  I think I may be in denial or something.  Shouldn't that make me cry and cry?  It makes me a little teary, but that's about it.  Am I too hard-hearted to feel anything?  Am I being protective of myself?  Is it just normal because I only had them 10 days?  I don't know.  It's weird.  The whole thing feels weird right now.

Having said that, though, I'm in for more kids.  The agency called me last week to ask about my taking on two little boys - 1 and 2 - and I had to say "no."  I told them that I was probably going to need some time to catch my breath after the first three left, and that I thought I was more interested in older kiddos.  There's somthing to be said for children who can actually communicate with you.  The agency people I talked with were completely understanding on both things.  I'm so glad.

Lessons learned over the whole week and a half:

1.  Still think three is too many.
2.  Still not interested in diapers again.
3.  It gets better.  It was really nice to feel like I could see progress with the kids over the course of the week.  In those first few days I didn't know there would be.
4.  The end of the day is hard.  I felt like I managed my emotions pretty well during the day as a whole.  But by bathtime I was done emotionally.  Which I couldn't really be.  I was startled/humbled by the frustration/anger I sometimes felt just trying to get the boys bathed.
5.  It really does take a village.  :)  I was awed by the time/toys/meals/chairs/bed/diapers people shared with us.  THANK YOU!!
6.  I'm up for trying it again.

Love.