Tomorrow everything changes

Or at least it seems like it will.

Evan will move.

Today he has been packing all of his worldly goods. Some have gone into our garage; some are already in the van. He, Brian and I will all leave the house at 7:15 and drive Brian to school.

Then Evan and I will drive on to The City and go by the agency offices and pick up the things that they bought for him (mini fridge, microwave, linens, etc). Then we're off to the University to unload his stuff. Fortunately for me, Evan wants to do this quickly so he can get back to Our Small Town before the optometrist's office closes (the shut down early on Friday) so he can pick up his new glasses.

Hubby will try to move the furniture in the bedroom (currently Evan's soon to be Frankie's) away from the wall so that I can start on the painting job when I get back from moving.

If I am lucky, then one of the girls (as in young female who is also a student) in the carpooling group I am joining will be planning on going to a friend's again and the carpooling women (as in mother of a student) can bring Brian home even though her station wagon is in the shop at the moment. This will now be a three-family carpool, so it looks like we will only be responsible for three, sometimes four, trips a week. Hubby says he can do one or two in the morning so, everyone cross your fingers, the driving burden might not be that big of a deal.

Can I have a hallelujah?

I bought paint for Frankie's room this evening. So, if Hubby is able to move the furniture, then I will be able to start on the walls mid afternoon. I have told Hubby that I may make him go to the PFLAG business meeting for me so that I can finish, but maybe I will get far enough along that he could just ... you know ... clean up the mess. Assuming that the walls actually get painted tomorrow, Frankie can move in Saturday morning.

The social worker came over this evening to have Frankie sign his statement of goals and we all did the ritual signing of the safety plan. The social worker originally suggested that we just all sign it, but there is something about everyone sitting around the table going over a document and signing it. It just feels official.

It makes a difference.

Frankie seems more relaxed. He rather excitedly told me that he succeeded in putting a string in his nose and pulling it back out his mouth. Clearly the possibility that I might be completely revolted was not worrying to him. He also found a web site on Chinese and figured out how to say, "I have two older brothers, one younger brother, a dad and a mom."

He asked us if it was okay that he couldn't find the Chinese word for "foster."

We said, "of course."