Visit #...whatever

I have no idea anymore what number visit we are on. I lost count of them along with the therapy appointments.

At this point everything is blurring together into one fuzzy transition memory.

The most recent visit ended today. Middle-One has gone back to the foster home until Thursday.

It was a terrible, horrible,no good, very bad visit. Middle is now spending every waking minute trying to push us away with all of his might. It must hard being him. It has to be awful to be that afraid. To not trust the people who say they love you most. To feel the need to not only be in control of you, but to stay on top of everything everyone else is doing too. It must take a great deal of energy to fight, watch, stir up trouble and micromanage everyone at all times.

I can tell you that it most definitely is not fun for us!!!

It's respite time