She has officially missed two out of four of the weekly phone call visits with T. It totally stinks being the foster parent in these types of situations. He fidgets, he acts silly, he engrosses himself in something trying to keep his mind busy and he waits. The phone rings and he jumps up only for me to answer it and talk to a friend for a few seconds before hanging up again, because its her time to call and I want the line to be available. I walk back and forth past my phone and check it for missed calls. Two hours go by and I officially give up. Parents have been late with their phone calls before, but it is bedtime now, so I assume it is probably not going to happen tonight.
I put T and Oldest Boy to bed. I read them their stories. I ask them if they have any prayer requests before I say their prayers with them. My son asks for his foot to feel better and then I look at T. I already know what he’s thinking. He is worried about his mom. He asks me to pray for her and of course I say that I will. We pray to God and ask for T’s mom to be healthy, happy, and safe. I hope that my words ease his mind now that he knows our Heavenly Father has heard his prayer.