I left the house yesterday without brushing my hair, and I didn't realize it until well into the day. A day of appointments and meetings.
As Primo's court date approaches I find myself drifting into malaise. I don't think I can take another phone call like the one I received last summer to let me know that absolutely nothing was accomplished in court and Primo and his 3 brothers would be in foster care for another 6 months.
I so want to be hopeful about the TPR trial, but I'm reliving last summer and wondering if these children will ever be free from foster care.