meet sue...
Jun 19 2007 05:56 PM filed in: bringing home
baby
Sue is our
social worker. We're meeting her on Sunday. Well,
that's not strictly true - we've met her before, at
the homestudy classes we went to (Jesus on a bike
we've been dragging our feet on this for a long time)
last year. Heh.
Sue phoned last Friday to schedule our first meetings. The way the homestudy works is that we each meet with her for an hour separately, and then on another day she comes to our house and meets with us both. I should probably be freaking out about the meeting at our house, but at least I have an excuse about the house being a disaster because of the whole "fixer-upper in the midst of being fixed up" thing. That should go a long way toward explaining why the "baby's room" has only half a floor right now.
But no...I'm worried about that first meeting, because by the time she gets to our house I'll know what to expect. I have no idea what she's going to ask me, or what I'm supposed to talk about. I'm worried about my propensity to - how do I put this delicately? - direct the conversation, when I imagine she's got specific things she'll want to cover and while I know I'm just a hoot to talk to, she probably will want to keep it to the hour she has scheduled for me.
My meeting with her was originally scheduled for tomorrow evening, but she called yesterday to reschedule. George's is at 10AM on Sunday & I am now going at 11AM.
The latest worry: Sue is going to spend three hours total with us & decide that nature got it right on this one. Unrealistic? Sure. But it's hard, when you're having every single aspect of your existence scrutinised in an attempt to determine your fitness to parent - when you're being held to a higher standard than the general population in so many ways - to know where exactly that standard is.
Everyone says it will be fine. And it probably will be. But worrying about it gives me something to do while I pass the time.
Sue phoned last Friday to schedule our first meetings. The way the homestudy works is that we each meet with her for an hour separately, and then on another day she comes to our house and meets with us both. I should probably be freaking out about the meeting at our house, but at least I have an excuse about the house being a disaster because of the whole "fixer-upper in the midst of being fixed up" thing. That should go a long way toward explaining why the "baby's room" has only half a floor right now.
But no...I'm worried about that first meeting, because by the time she gets to our house I'll know what to expect. I have no idea what she's going to ask me, or what I'm supposed to talk about. I'm worried about my propensity to - how do I put this delicately? - direct the conversation, when I imagine she's got specific things she'll want to cover and while I know I'm just a hoot to talk to, she probably will want to keep it to the hour she has scheduled for me.
My meeting with her was originally scheduled for tomorrow evening, but she called yesterday to reschedule. George's is at 10AM on Sunday & I am now going at 11AM.
The latest worry: Sue is going to spend three hours total with us & decide that nature got it right on this one. Unrealistic? Sure. But it's hard, when you're having every single aspect of your existence scrutinised in an attempt to determine your fitness to parent - when you're being held to a higher standard than the general population in so many ways - to know where exactly that standard is.
Everyone says it will be fine. And it probably will be. But worrying about it gives me something to do while I pass the time.
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