How We Became Nine – Part One

One evening, just over three years ago, my son Nathan, who was a freshman in high school at the time, came home and asked me if we could adopt a really cute puppy that his friend had. I told him absolutely not. We already had three dogs and we were not taking on another. I didn’t have time for that!

Two hours later, my oldest son Tim, a junior, walks in and says, “So, mom, I know you know who my friend Matt is, but I don’t think you know about him.”

You see, Matt was in foster care and he lived in a group home about 20 minutes from us. Tim explained that Matt was about to become a ward of the state in a few months. He was 16, and that is an age that is really hard to find placements for. He ended the conversation by looking at me with his cute face and asking, “Can we adopt him?

In the space of two hours, I had been asked to adopt both a dog and a child. 

I wasn’t sure how to handle this situation. How do you even start looking into adopting or fostering a specific child?

I told Tim that we could start by maybe seeing if we could get Matt on the weekends to let him spend some time with our family. After calling his group home, I ended up with a number for his case worker. She and I talked, and I at least had a direction to go in. A week later, Matt had a day pass to come and visit us. 

My husband and I sent our daughter to her grandma and grandpa’s for the day, and my son and I went to go get Matt.

Now. My son did not know this, but my husband and I had already talked and decided that as long as we were able to help Matt out, we wanted to. I had started looking into how to become a foster parent, and I had talked some more to his case worker. After all, Matt was 16. Providing a home for him while he finished up the next few years of high school shouldn’t be that hard.

And then we were thrown a curve ball…

Their names were Josh and Noah. They were Matt’s younger brothers.

I will never forget walking through that courtyard to enter the group home and seeing those two cute little boys rollerblading and riding a scooter around. As we approached, the littlest one looked up at me and asked if I was there to get Matt. The older one followed that question with, “We are his younger brothers.”

Well, crap!  There were three of them. Not one. Not just a high school sophomore who needed a home for a few years before he went out into the world to start his own life, but two little boys who I assumed to be about 12 and 9. My husband was NEVER going to go for three kids! That would be SIX kids in our home. While I had always wanted six kids, he hadn’t! Six was a LOT of kids!

Tim and I left the boys playing in the courtyard and made our way into the facility. The kids had dorm style bedrooms and one of the workers at the desk walked back to go get Matt while I filled out paperwork, left proof of insurance and gave them a copy of my driver’s license. The building had a long hallway with tile stretching from one end to the other. The fluorescent lights did not help to make the building feel any less institutionalized. Matt made his way to us, and after deciding on a time to have him back, we left.

My husband and I had decided to take Matt, Tim and Nathan to the go-cart track and arcade. We had a great time. The boys got along like they had known each other forever. My husband liked Matt, and I was already picturing how he could fit right into our home. Way too soon, we had to take Matt back. 

We all walked him back inside, and again, I was struck by how institutional the place was. It was really hard to walk away and go back home knowing the boys had to stay there. 

Once we were home, my husband and I stepped outside to talk about the day. I brought up the fact that we weren’t just talking one boy, but three! Through the course of our day, Matt had told us about his little brothers. They were nine and fourteen. So, really, the ages weren’t too far off of our three kids who were sixteen, fourteen and about to turn twelve.

But from nine to twelve was a three year gap. Three years can be a long time when you are raising kids. Grace was in junior high. I was done with elementary. Noah was in third grade. Tim and I could see the point where we would have some time to ourselves again. 

I had quit my job as a teacher to pursue a career as a photographer. Photographers worked evenings and weekends. The other kids were old enough to handle themselves with minimal supervision. 

Noah wasn’t.

He needed a mom around to handle things. On top of that, he had been in foster care since he was seven, so I knew we’d have some catching up to do on certain things. 

But still. I wanted to give the boys a home. 

I wanted the boys in my home.

Surprisingly, my husband was not opposed to giving all three boys a home. He wanted us to see about having all three boys visit, but he was willing to see how everything went. Neither one of us wanted to leave the boys where they were.

On Monday, the first chance I had,  I began to figure out what I needed to do to make visits happen. This time around, it was a lot more involved. Finally, though, a month later we had our first visit scheduled with all three boys. 

It was going to be on Halloween! I couldn’t wait!

To be continued…

Read Part Two HERE