Her Majesty’s Day: My First Foster Experience
In March 2020, after a year of training to become a licensed foster care provider, the big day had finally come. I was getting my first placement. All I knew about the little girl who would become my temporary responsibility was that she was 2 years old, the youngest of seven siblings, and her name was Majesty (name changed). When she arrived, I showed her to the pink room I had decorated with new bedding, toys and books. As I walked out the door to grab something I’d forgotten, I felt a sharp pain in my leg. Majesty had bit me. It was the first of three bites that first week we were together. I quickly learned: don’t leave her Majesty alone in a room for a second, don’t comb her hair and don’t refuse to let her go outside. She was the most independent 2-year-old I had ever met. She could put her diaper on and dress herself. She wanted to put the key in the door, put her own plate away. It was great. By week two, I had mastered the art of dodging when she opened her mouth to bare her teeth, and we were doing well together.
What I didn’t see coming was COVID-19.
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