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Time to prepare

"I want to do independent living."

I think at one time if I had hear those words from J I would have cried but when it actually came I just feel... peace. I know J doesn't feel like he belongs here and I hate for him to waste his time in a family when that's not what he wants. I'm excited for him to grow up a little and go out on his own.

His ideal situation would be to get an apartment of his own, possibly with a roommate, and take advantage of the subsidy the state provides and manage his own budget. He's still too young for that to happen but his social worker presented the idea of Tumbleweed Youth Center to him today. It's basically a large group home. The youth there follow the same rules as a group home but they live in apartments. So he would probably have a roommate, each would have their own room in a two bedroom apartment and they'd have shared living space. Meals are provided but he'd have to find his own transportation to school or a job. He'd have to switch schools again.

We're going to take a look next week. We don't know if they have any open spaces. We don't know if he has to wait till he's 17 to move there. Either way he'd have to wait a few months for the court to transition him.

It's strange to think of our journey with foster care coming to an end. Maybe by the end of the year! It's started some good conversations with J. He was excited to try to buy his own groceries today and follow a budget. He's really getting serious about school. He recognizes the need for a job to help pay for a car, car insurance, a phone, food. I'm excited to have those conversations with him and help him get those pieces together. That's why I wanted to foster to begin with. I wanted to help a kid with these kinds of questions. And it makes me feel good that even though he's excited to move out, he asked if we could visit and said he'd always have us to call if he had questions or needed help. I'm excited to be that person for him.

At the store today the cashier heard him call me "Mom." She gave me a weird look and said "What did he call you?"

"He calls me Mom."

"You look too young for that."

"I am."

But I guess this whole experience is just opening my eyes to a new definition of Mom. He doesn't hug me. He doesn't want to be just like me like my girls do. He doesn't even want to live with me. But he does love me. He does depend on me. He does need me--in a way he's not going to admit to anyone. And I love that.

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