The White Gloves Come Off

October 27, 2006 at 11:11 pm 1 comment

So, did I mention the old Home Study has commenced? Yes, that’s right. The nice lady is a licensed, clinical social worker interviews you, and comes to your house and decides whether or not you get a stamp of approval to adopt a baby. That lady. It all started last week.
We have four visits to get through. One down and three to go. The first three, we meet with her in her office. One with the two of us to convince her that we have an Ozzie and Harriet kind of marriage and existence. (and not an Ozzie and Sharon kind of relationship) Two others where she meets with us individually so that she can find discrepancies in our stories and rat each other out. “You told us that you do NOT regularly have Baby Gap Attacks but your husband was all too willing to state otherwise. Do you or do you not go to Baby Gap when you tell your family that you’re just going out to run errands? I want the TRUTH…” I digress. To be honest, no one can handle the truth when it comes to clothing little Zannie. The fourth and final meeting is the dreaded home visit. Yes, she comes and sees our house. Good lord. That’s what I think every time I face it. Oh, and it’s going to be November 18th. For those of you who know me, you are already laughing. You are thinking, “Let the cleaning begin” I tend to be a compulsive neat-freak. I also like to have a company-ready, seasonally decorated home pretty much at any given time. So, a home visit would not be a problem were it not for other nameless people who live with me. My husband joked, “Should Zannie and I hole up in a hotel for a week before she comes to inspect?” He was joking. I thought it was a good idea.

Anyway, the social worker assured us that it wasn’t the white glove inspection and that she just needs to see that we have room for a child and that we have made provisions for one. She SAYS that, but I know better. Basically, it’s still the white glove inspection, it’s got to be. I mean, if I were her, I’d be looking for cracks in the sidewalk. I’d be looking in our medicine cabinets and anything else I could sneak a peak at. So, I have until the 18th to meet my cleanliness standards. The pragmatic side of me is just hoping to get through this without permanently pissing off my family. Too much. Anyway, that’s the progress in that part of our world. Oh. Also, we’re going to name our daughter Isabel. My stomach flips just typing that. Isabel. I’d like you to meet my daughters. Our youngest is named Isabel. Geeze, I am so over the moon in general. I was actually mid-shopping-for-Zannie today when it occurred to me that I could buy something for Isabel. It was like the day we set up the crib again. I just about passed out with sheer joy. I was getting Zannie some socks and I saw the cutest long-sleeved shirt with a crocheted bunny with button eyes on it. I went completely marshmallow. It was so awesome. When you spend a time thinking and trying to accept that you’ll never experience something that you wanted more than anything, and then you are told that, wait, no, we made a mistake, you DO get to experience that….you basically have moments of swoonage. Hurry, sweet Isabel. Fly here to us with your gossamer wings. We are so ready to love you. Bring on the white gloves.


Entry filed under: Adoption, Adoption Blog, Children, Family, International Adoption, Motherhood, Parenting.

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1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. imhelendt  |  November 5, 2006 at 12:21 pm

    SO I take you won’t be able to see me on the 18th? Except maybe to get falling down drunk later? LOL! Seriously though, good luck and see you soon!


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