Not so fun Fridays

Let me put this more bluntly than the title suggests: I hate Fridays. I hate them, hate them, hate them. Yep, that is just about exactly how I feel about them.

Let me expound. First of all, our weeks have been so crazy hectic and Friday happens to fall at the end, but is not the official end, to our hectic week-Andy is working Fridays and Saturdays right now. There were several days where I kissed my hubby as I walked in the door and he walked out. We would then text each other back and forth for the next 10 minutes about vital information the other one needed catching up on-what the kids had for lunch, when they fell asleep for naps, who got punished for what....Definitely not ideal. Two ships passing in the night, indeed.

Also, I am Taxi-Mom on Fridays. I drop off and pick up four times in three and a half hours, noting that this time frame is too quick to actually go home to sit and breath. Today, in that time frame, I also squeezed a client in. Madness.

Fridays...I despise them because they are T's visit days. I will note she is equally excited to see her SCAN worker as she is her bio dad--not a great sign in my book considering her SCAN working probably won't be there to help raise her should 'dad' get custody of her (note the crazy amount of sarcasm this is steeped in). Also, her SCAN worker brought 'dad' two shirts for T, one of which she was wearing when I picked her up. I ask said SCAN worker, "What is the benefit in you bringing her clothes to his house?" Apparently so he feels he is contributing to her, so he knows what size she wears, and whatever other reasons were spilling from her mouth that my mind would not allow me to pick up on because I decided I had stopped listening. In some fairness, T goes to visit looking slightly disheveled. She does not match, she is not in cute clothes, and today her hair was not done. The reason? Because when I do send her in semi-cute clothes she comes back with orange stains on the pants and shirt. Why would I send her in super cute, frilly clothes, when they are not appreciated or kept clean? So, she wears old stuff. Whatever, I feel like sending the shirt back next week, letting SCAN worker know she has a closet full of stuff, and this shirt is not necessary. And, she smells unpleasant when she comes back. That is hard for me to deal with. I'm huge on smells. I feel particularly bad for children when they don't smell squeaky clean, because you know they are only a product of their environment. She smells like stale smoke and other yucky stuff. We change her immediately when she comes home, and we throw her stuff in the washer. While I'm on the subject, SCAN worker also treats this arrangement (T being in foster care and seeing her bio dad through social services) as though he's had a run of bad luck and these 'circumstances' have just happened to him. Kind of like her saying, "Well, darn it, let's get this going in the right direction because he's such a great guy and such a super dad. It's too bad it's all happened to him." I can't comprehend this mind set. He chose this. He is allowed it to drag out for 18 months! He is the one that should be fighting like crazy to get her back, not doing it at his own leisurely pace. It's incredible to me.

My goodness, apparently this has been a long, and draining week. On the upside, it's been super, super full of joy, I just choose not to share the joy on this blog. There is a whole other blog for that! Apparently this one is for ranting...at least today.