Well it is the evening of the December 2nd and the social worker from JFS will be here on the 5th. I am pretending not to worry. I am pretending this whole procedure is old hat. When we were getting ready for our first homestudy before we adopted Quincy, I was a wreak. And with good reason.
Homestudies are simple processes. The social worker is not checking for the perfect, Martha Stewart home. Instead they want to make sure you have working smoke detectors on each floor, heat, water, and electricity, a safe bed for the child, and no box of loaded guns under the coffee table . Before Quincy our old house was under major renovation, two of our radiators were out on the lawn, we had no banister, no basement door. It took a Herculean efforts and a buttful of money to get our house up to decent standards.
Now as we face our homestudy for our future foster to adopt child our home is in much better shape. But all I can see are the flaws, missing doorknobs, missing switch plates, and there is a ridiculous hole in our kitchen ceiling.
I am trying not to make myself crazy or make poor Kevin crazy, but I just wish I could wave a magic wand and create a Martha Stewart-worthy home.
I need to focus on what I can control. I need to gather together my paperwork and calm my spirit. Maybe I can guilt Kevin into picking up some Sheetrock.
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