Waiting

We are officially waiting parents, and not just waiting to be parents.  The home visit is finished!

Well, that was easy.  As often is the case when you worry about something, it doesn't end up being as bad as your imagination.  Our social worker came by our house a little bit early - just as we were picking up the remaining doggie waste from the front yard.  Nice to see you, want to shake hands?

She took the grand tour of Chateau Lafond.  It was quick and painless.  No white-glove-dust-check. 

The memorable part for me will always be a short conversation we had on the way downstairs.  I was mentioning something about the house having a few things I wanted to fix up before the child arrived, to which she asked if the house had any weapons.

The house does have a set of katana blades, but it promises to sell them before we get a referral.

We sat and chatted for an hour.  She would ask us a question and we would respond, and then she'd ask if we would like to add to our response.  Apparently there was a word-count that we didn't reach for our essay.  We eventually stumbled through it.

We asked if there was anything in our house she suggested we take care of right away, and she politely and diplomatically said we should continue to allow our ideas for remodeling to take shape.  In other words, get to painting!

Phew.  That part is over - now to the unbearable lightness of being patient!

P.S.  We've (or I've) decided to refer to our child as 'Guido' for now. Just so we don't have to refer to it as 'it.' 

P.P.S. Angie's lukewarm on the idea.