My foster daughter has moved on to be adopted by her aunt and uncle, along with her two brothers. So we haven't had a foster child for a few months. Soooo, I got a call from a social worker last Saturday night, at 1:30 am no less, waking me up to tell me about these three brothers who need a place to stay. Ages are 7, 11, and 12. My boys are 8 and 9. I told here at the time we only had the one bed, cause at 1:30 am that was what we had for that night. So she went on and wound up splitting them up anyway, sending the 7 yr old to a home and the two older boys to a shelter (argh!). And so the next day we get a couple of cots and start trying to get them back together again. Well, the system tends to be so crammed packed with cases that once a kid gets somewhere you gotta really tweek them to get them to make a move. We got them to move (finally). We are expecting them (probably) on Friday so they can finish the week in their current schools. Their schools are too far away for us to keep them in these and they'll have to switch to those closer to my home. Hate to do it but a 40 min one way drive each morning and 40 min back, to repeat in the afternoon is Way too much to do each day, not and work also. We're supposed to get all three, to keep them together, but won't know about the youngest just yet. Bottomline - Wish me luck. I must be terminally crazy. FIVE boys between the ages of 7 and 12 (and this after teaching elementary all day)! I told my wife with the two male dogs and two (very stinky - don't ever let your kids talk you into buying one) mice, myself, and Five boys she's now officially the Smurfette of our household. Thank goodness for minivans.