Let the Home Study Begin!

And we're off, friends! As of Monday, this home study thing is in full swing, and part one of the four part process (not including paperwork collecting, physical completing, blood work, projected earning for the year 2020 of all our stocks, full brain scans, mental evaluation of the dog, etc, etc. Okay, so maybe not some of those last few things...) is complete! Shew, I'm exhausted.

Leading up to Monday's appointment, I had case of the nerves that only grew larger with every passing minute. I don't know about you, but I am a physical worrier. In that, I walk around with a constant feeling of nausea, loss of sleep, general tossing and turning, fretting, and a dose of imagining all that could go wrong. I know this is wrong. So wrong, that I will mix all these symptoms with repeated prayers for God to relieve my nervousness and forgive me for not trusting that He's got this, and yet a half an hour later, I am jumbled mess again. Worry. Pray. Rinse. Repeat.

I didn't used to be this way, but somewhere in life I've taken a couple of hits that make me a little leary of what the future may hold. So for those of you who think I walk forward boldly in confidence each and every day, please let me be honest - if Peter needed someone to like his status on Facebook that he just walked on the water with Jesus until his faith gave out and he started to sink like a rock, I would be that girl. I'd even comment something like, "Been there, done that, don't let it get you down, friend."

The silly thing is, my worries were completely about my house. Not the interview that would end up taking around 2 hours. Things like: maybe I should delay this thing till I can repaint the kitchen, or when she sees the fact that my bathroom has nothing but subflooring after I ripped out the carpet at 11:30 one evening after Mike had gone to work (carpet in bathrooms is a stupid idea, btw) it will all be over, and my tendency for paper hoarding is getting ready to be exposed and disclosed on all my adoption paperwork. I can't help it, somewhere in my brain I think that you may need proof that I paid my electric bill in November of 2011. Seriously. I'm fairly certain I have let go of 2010's stack, but I won't swear to it.

Truth be told, it should have been more daunting that we were going to have to answer two hours worth of questions, such as what was our last major disagreement about, how do we handle conflict in our marriage, and whether we have realistic expectations as to how things will be when we bring this child home. Did that concern me? Nope. I'll talk all day long about anything and everything, if you let me. Case in point, when she asked me if the animals in our home have rabies vaccination certificates, I somehow got in there that our last cat died in December and is buried in the back yard under that tree you can see through the window. Because, people, she needs to know that if this precious little girl from China wants a hamster or a Great Dane and it should meet an untimely demise, I already have a pet cemetary plot available for use. (Though with one dog, two cats, and a hamster out there, it's getting a little crowded. On a side note, these animals died of old age, except for the hamster. Just so you don't think I can't care for our four legged friends.)

The walk through of our house took less than 30 minutes, and we found out that our ammo and medication need to be under lock and key, and I need to get a "real" first aid kit. My mish mash of band aids and various ointments doesn't cut it, it seems. All items will get taken care of, and we move on to the next step.

So in conclusion, we see that a whole lot of worry doesn't really do anyone any good. I'm glad we learned that lesson today, aren't you? Oh, if it were only that easy. Pray for me and my nerves. Just when I think I make one step forward, I take two back. Thank goodnes God is good and He is patient. His mercies are new each and every morning.

What comes next? Autobiographies and seperate husband/wife interviews! I started my autobiography yeterday. I love to write. I love me. I have discovered when posed with a list of questions, I do not love writing about me that much. I look back at my life and remember good things, fond memories, and it seems I dispose of the rest. Who needs that other stuff? So, when asked to recount my teenage years? No, I'm good, we can skip that part.

I know I have to do it. I will, I will. Can I take a nap first?