A Bundle of Nervous Energy

While I went to bed cool and calm, I have to admit my nerves got the better of me first thing in the morning. Our social worker was due at 10:00 am and I got up early to make some lemon poppy seed bread. Lame, I know. As if I’m going to prove I am such a domestic goddess she would be inspired to fast track our adoption. An hour before she arrived, I started getting a bit absurd. Should I leave a lit candle in the bathroom so it will smell nice or will she think I’ll leave unattended candles and burn the house down? Why did husband open the chest exposing the TV, we don’t want her to think w would use television to babysit our child. No, husband, you can’t make some sausage for breakfast, the house will reek of it and she’ll think we’re only going to feed the child fatty red meat. Like I said, ridiculous. Husband just took my nerves in stride as he typically does and kept out of my way until she showed up. Its his usual strategy when I get myself all worked up and it works for both of us.

In the history of things I have gotten myself worked up over, this was by far the most wasted use of nervous energy. As the rational part of my brain knew it would be, it was a very basic interview (no grilling us, no trick questions). She toured the house, spending only a few moments in each room – mostly she was checking to see where the fire alarms were and that each room was in fact a room with a window, not some oversized closet. I almost wanted to pull the furniture out of place to show her that I dusted behind it – just to make my hours of cleaning worthwhile. She also spent some time with each of us and one of our references, my lovely and fabulous best friend who probably did a better job of selling us than we did. And that was it. We meet with her one more time and then she’ll write up the actual home study (basically a very long report on who we are, why we want to adopt, our financial and health situation, our household, and our thoughts on parenthood). That visit will be at the agency’s office not our house, so we can go back to living in filth. For now though, my house is so sparkling clean I might serve dinner on the dining room floor!