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Of Emma…

And Sophie…

And hubby’s big 13 double e’s…

We had our first home visit Friday. Two social workers came and asked us lots of personal questions and looked over the house—to make sure it would be safe for children.

Hubby and I were both off Friday to run errands and tidy up the house a bit for the visit. We didn’t make an effort for it to be spotless or in perfect shape, just presentable. We figured it we did any more than a normal cleaning it would be like lying! After all, I am not a meticulous housekeeper at all. I just do my best to keep up with what needs to be done.

We did take some boxes that were still in the hallway—that we will have to go through one more time (purge, Purge, PURGE!) and then put away what ever is left. These are what was left after our neighbor, the professional organizer (to the stars!), helped us with a huge purge a few months ago.

Afterwards, hubby and I are sitting at the kitchen table. I’m finishing my supper (didn’t have time to before they arrived) and he’s having a glass of wine. We have no idea how the interview went, only that we are spent from the two weeks anticipation of it and the knowledge there will be one more before we even know if we’re approved.

We talked with them about how we’d like to start with an infant, but that we’d also heard of a 16 year old girl who’s mother doesn’t want her and that we’d seriously consider taking her in. (How could anyone not want to take this girl in!) It would mean a bigger sacrifice on our part right away.

We’d be giving up our office if we took this girl in. With an infant we figure we’ll have at least three years to build an addition off our bedroom for an office, but taking in this young girl would mean an adjustment right now. A big adjustment since we just got into our office this summer after our darling son finally came and got all his stuff…and his little dog, too.

I know it will be difficult for us, but I just can’t stand the idea of this girl being in a shelter.

Can you?