I've had a rough couple of months. My tenants wrecked my rental property - excrement on the floors, walls and ceilings, windows broken, plumbing broken, AC units gone. It's been a lot of work to rehab, and really saddening.
My daughter (you may remember our excitement at the date of adoption) has moved in with my wife's cousins. Attachment disorder is ... appalling. She didn't set the cat on fire or anything, but she was desperately unhappy with us (which I get, I really do, it was a flarging madhouse when she came home to us, and she had a long row to hoe in the best of circumstances). I am frankly heartbroken. I know we have done the best for her that we can, even in letting her go. They are good people, with bunch of bio-kids and an abiding faith in a benevolent (if somewhat dominionist) God that Lucy always wanted and we cannot provide. I miss her, but she can't miss me, because attachment disorder is appalling. She's a good kid, strange and sad and deeply deeply broken ("When will Papa touch my vagina?" "Never, honey, we're aiming for never." "Why not?"), but mostly good.
The best I can hope for her is that she will grow up and be happy and be part of a family that cares for her. I hope that she can live a full and happy life, and I am so sad that it won't be with us.