Foster Drama

This story starts 4 days ago.  David and the 4 oldest were rough housing on the bed. (never a good way to start a story, you know if it ended well it would never make the post)

Benji was the one receiving the most of the attention and David's feet were hanging off the bed while he was getting Benji.  Alex, decided to make a run for safety, trying to dart between Daddy's feet hanging off the edge and dodging a sister and brother.  He didn't make it.  Instead he bounces off the flailing feet, falls back and hits his back on the dresser.  The comotion calms to a quick halt and there is triage.  Assess the damage, dry the tears, coax back to life the smile.  And we move on.  There was no blood, and at our house if there's no blood or swelling, you are probably ok.  ;-)   
Now I should qualify the next phrase, we are supposed to write out an incident report everytime ANYTHING happens, and believe you me, with a rowdy 3yr old, there are alot of them.
So I write the incident report and forget all about it. 
Until today.
David took the day off and decided to join us on our "adventure".  Up, dressed, rushed to the car, quick errand on the way then visitation.  Where we sit and wait for 30 MINUTES!   Finally at the end of their allotted time, and the end of our patience the parents show up, and the boys go in.  We run for lunch and head back to pick up the baby while Alex sees his "Bee-o-logical" dad.  When we get there Alex runs up to us, anxious to be back with his brothers and sister, and they come back for him.  "Just for a few minutes" they tell us as they lead him back to another room.  Sure enough 2 min later he is back, and we say, "What's going on buddy?  Is your bee-o-logical dad here?"  "No" he says, "They just wanted to know what happened to my back, so I told them that Daddy kicked me into the dresser!"  Oh, is that all?  UGH   Here is where the spiral of thoughts begins.  What if, what if, what if. 
I called my worker and she assures me that there is nothing to worry about.  She will come out tomorrow morning and just document it, but this sort of thing happens.
His bee-o-ligical dad never shows, and we head to the hospital for ultra-sounds of the baby's tummy. 

My husband is THE BEST father I've ever seen, he was born to be the daddy, and I know that if there were an investigation there would be nothing to worry about.  But this is just a reminder, take nothing for granted.  These children belong to the Lord, but not to us.  We are stewards of ours and theirs and we are accountable to a slew of people now.