it’s been a long time, 11 years maybe, since i’ve been to juvenile court.  being an ongoing caseworker for a children’s services agency in a neighboring county, going to court was a regular part of my job.  i was an agency representative, telling the court the status of my cases.  letting them know if the parents or guardians of children in foster care were complying with their case plan objectives.  their case plan provided them with services to ensure their children could safely return to their care.  services could include parenting classes, alcohol/drug treatment or counseling, anger management if domestic violence was an issue, secure stable and safe housing, secure employment-any number of things to address any issues that were preventing the family from being together.

today i am on the other side.  i’m not the one on the witness stand.  i’m not the expert. i am on the sidelines listening to the status of the case.   i am the one taking care of the children.  the one hoping and praying for a good outcome because these children desperately need good in their lives.  i’m the one with the wide open doors and wide open heart.  the one whose heart has been broken for the innocent children.  the one who has a 17th month old trying to stick an aspirator up my nose as i type this.

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