What went on in my head:
"My address??? Why do you need my address? We're meeting at MY house???? But it's not ready at all for a social worker to come in! It's a disaster! How many dishes are in my sink? How much laundry is piles in front of the dryer? How many dog hair dust bunnies are scattered everywhere? The snow just melted, there's 5 months of frozen dog poop in the yard! This can't possibly happen in 3 days!"What I said out loud to her in a completely calm voice:
"Oh, the meeting's at our house, ok, no problem."
Good thing I've had years of acting experience at the local community theaters!
Obviously, once we got home, I went into freaking out, cleaning nazi mode and scared dh (darling hubby) and the poor dog...lol So, fast forward through 3 days of attempting to make it what I deemed "clean enough" (which, I don't think it ever will be in my mind) and enter social worker in the front door.
This first meeting was very low key, she just answered any questions we had (I had printed 2 pages of them) and gave us applications and a bazillion forms to fill out. She didn't even leave the living room and kitchen areas. So much for my chaotic cleaning everywhere..lol
The next step is for us to fill out these bazillion forms and drop them off at the agency. At that point she'll send referral letters to 4 friends. (I never understood the point of referrals. Who on earth gives out a name and number of someone who will give a bad referral?) Once those come back, we can schedule the next appointment and start on the fbi clearances, etc etc.
Not overly exciting, I must say, but this now triggers my obsession over reading every single foster care blog I can find and joining every facebook fostering support group in existence. Obsession may be an understatement....
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