Linda comes and goes

Linda was not here for 5 days. I don't think she was even here for 5 hours.

Linda's PSR worker brought her over after school and I gave them the tour. We talked about how she would get home from school. The worker made clear that Linda has only just been allowed out of close supervision. So, no, she can't walk from the high school to my office with Andrew. I agree to pick her up. We were just moving on to her appointments when the phone rang. It was the social worker. She said she was sorry, but she just realized that I don't have a state license. She tells me that Linda is a E4 (I asked Hubby if he knew what that meant and he said, "It means she wears a really wide shoe") and federal regulations prohibit her from staying at my house. So she has to go to the teen shelter home in The City.

The PSR worker can't drive her because, though she lives in the city and will be going there anyway, she will also be taking her infant home and regulations prohibit her from driving Linda and her infant at the same time.

The social worker could drive her, but only if she can get a health and welfare car to drive; she can't drive Linda in her own vehicle. I have no idea why. Then they realized Mandy's husband was not going to get off work and bring her suitcase over until 7:30, which complicated things to no end. I volunteered to drive her, and they cheerfully accepted. So I guess that is not contrary to federal regulations, even though I don't have a state license.

Anyway, I fed her dinner, which she did not eat because her meds have completely eliminated her appetite, and then she ate Halloween candy until it was time to go. (What do I care? I'm not approved to be taking care of her anyway.)

I drove her to the shelter home. She was okay about it, but got anxious when she saw it. She said it looked "like one of those places where old people go." "You mean a rest home?" I have to confess that it does -- although a very new, modern fancy rest home. It is big enough to house nearly 30 teens, though only 9 are there now. Fortunately one of them Linda knew, which made it much easier for her.

The staff person at the shelter home was confused. "So are you her social worker?" "No." "Her foster mother?" "No." "So who are you?" "I'm was supposed to be her respite provider but since I just have a license through the X Agency they said I could not do it at the last minute." "So why did they let you drive her?" "I haven't a clue."

She asked if I knew when the social worker was going to come by the sign the paperwork so that Linda could be admitted. I said no. She was pretty cool. She stayed relaxed and friendly, which was good because Linda in danger of becoming nervous about whether she would be allowed to stay anywhere. After a phone call she said that the social worker would just have to come by and fill out the paper work tomorrow.

It's a good place. It is the same home that Evan lived in, although that was when it was just a house in a quiet neighborhood, not the shiny new facility for 2 dozen kids that it is now.

I didn't like leaving her there, though. I really didn't.