As the kids were on their way to a visit, I found out that their biomom asked the social worker for “help” getting gifts. And by that, I mean, she asked the social worker to get gifts for her. Carrot has been wanting Barbie dolls, and our great social worker unknowingly picked out an African-American Barbie for her.
Why am I ranting?
Because their mom made a phone call, and presents will show up at the visit for her to give to the kids. Presents she couldn’t even wrap.
Santa already bought some Barbies for Carrot. And, because things aren’t handed to us (okay, many many things are very graciously given to us. And we are so thankful.) we had to prioritize. Do we buy her one or two new Barbies in boxes or a bunch of used ones, with clothes, and a collapsable house? Considering how hard our kids are on toys, we picked quantity.
And, as the mom who listened to her tell me over and over what she wanted, and what she hoped for, I wanted to be the one to fulfill that for her.