Many Moves

Today we rearranged rooms yet again in hopes of finding a solution that will work and minimize conflict. We had to move Drama Boy out of the shared room to keep him and his stuff safe from Sparky who has been tackling him, stealing and hiding his stuff, and trashing the room. He moved into the Boss' room. But then we had to move the Boss into my room to keep him safe from Drama Boy who has been blocking his path, hitting him, and telling him he hates him. Real nice, guys.

We also have to spend a lot of time keeping the dog safe from being pestered to death by all three of them (well, four counting Seamonkey).

I hear that most people don't have to live this way. Hard to imagine any more. Except for our first year fostering when we had only one six-year-old, we have spent the years that we have had foster kids in a state of constant hyper-vigilance and crisis management in an effort to keep everyone safe from one another and themselves.

I feel like Frodo at the foot of Mount Doom. I can't remember the Shire or the taste of strawberries...or what it was like to live in a peaceful house without locks on doors and cabinets or mixed up little people stealing, raging, and trying to beat the crap out of each other.