The system wasn't stealing our time.
It was stealing our presence.
My name is Ashley. My husband and I went through the licensing process, fostered and then adopted two daughters, and spent two years fostering two boys before they were reunified with their mother. We loved every one of those children fiercely.
But there were nights — too many of them — when the kids needed us and we were buried in paperwork instead. Copies of copies of forms. A caseworker who wasn't picking up and wouldn't be back for three weeks. Phone calls that went nowhere. Documents we'd submitted twice already, requested a third time.
Nobody talks about what that administrative weight does to a foster parent's patience. To their focus. To the version of themselves they bring to the dinner table. The system's dysfunction doesn't just exhaust families — it quietly redirects that frustration toward the children in their care.
Verdly exists to give that time — and that presence — back. Because the kids in these homes don't just need a roof. They need the best version of the people who chose them.
Staring at a stack of paperwork — copies of copies — on the kitchen table. The caseworker isn't picking up. Won't be back for three weeks. The kids are in the next room. And you are here, drowning in forms, when you should be with them.