Henry and I spent the morning looking at pics, reading books, and spreading birdseed in the backyard. We took a long nap. Got up around 2PM or so. Had lunch. Henry went on a walk with Jeff and the dogs, while I got ready. Headed over to the Grandparents' house. Then, off to foster training.
Tonight's training was our last Monday night class. A behavioral therapist from the Mesa office ran tonight's session. We basically discussed a range of behaviors that could appear, the difference between age appropriate issues (e.g., temper tantrums in a 2 year old) vs. not appropriate behaviors that require specialists (too many to list), and the Honeymoon period (where the child sometimes is a the model child for 1-2 months and then lets loose once s/he feels secure enough to express his or her true feelings). In all honesty, tonight wasn't a big selling point for trying to induce people to become foster parents.
Henry was an "angel" according to Grammy. He ate a lot. Turkey, ham, Yo-baby, banana, some kind of cheese souffle. Jeff told Poppy how he'd been trying to teach Henry the name "Kyl." We are trying to counterbalance Henry's penchant for Democratic names. If you ask Henry to say the name "Kyl," he'll respond with the name "Fogg." Kyle Fogg is a brilliant, quick, fun-to-watch, freshman guard for the Wildcats.
Nothing else to report. I'm signing off to do data analysis at midnight (because when else I am going to find the time). I still feel yucky.
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