A week into our first placement and we were headed to a family reunion 5 hours away in Arkansas. Not the best laid plans. But in foster care, our staunch dreams often gave way.
So we bought a portable dvd player and the five of us headed south.
The delightful retreat center included a river, pool, several cabins and enough cousins for a full soccer game. Keeping most of the kids running, jumping and swimming from dusk till dawn.
Nick, our five-year-old, preferred to shower.
Always insisting on full privacy, we waited on the other side of the door. Checking in verbally more often than he preferred.
At the end of these showers he would call me in to show how he could make bubbles with his mouth.
Apparently he was eating soap.
We decided it was more amusing than worrisome. On the spectrum of behaviors we were witnessing, eating soap didn’t seem like a battle worth choosing. And it was actually pretty cool watching him speak in bubbles.
Until a couple days later when he started vomiting them as well. Turns out soap isn’t great for the digestive tract
We both learned something new that day.
Nothing revolutionary. Just a practical lesson. It wouldn’t change us or how we related to each other. We probably wouldn’t even think about it after all the sheets had been washed.
But some days we need that. Trauma and attachment and trust get heavy quickly. And some days we all need a break from the heavy lessons.
Some days we need to just learn not to eat too much soap.