So we have our first home visit tonight from DHS. They want to poke around the place, make sure my "Knives of the World" chandelier is put up, check to see if we have little plastic thingys in all our electrical outlets, make sure the cords are wrapped up tight as to not choke little ones, and...get this. They are checking to make sure we have a fire extinguisher.
Listen y'all. I'm not a hero. If a fire springs up that I can't douse with a good helping of baking soda, I'm going to grab the PS3, both TVs, my cell phone, my Duke shirts, and maybe some underwear, and I'm going to Costanza my way out of that house faster than you admonish me for doing so. Let me ask you this. How many of YOU have a fire extinguisher in your house?
How many of YOU had to have a home visit before you got pregnant?
How many of YOU took a 27 hour class before you had your kids?
How many of YOU had to fill out a 13 page application that forced you to answer questions about what type of handicaps would be acceptable in a child? That's right. I wish you ALL had to look at that form. I wish you ALL had to answer those questions. Looking at your spouse and checking no on "right arm broken above the wrist but not below the elbow on the outside." It's stupid. Why can't we just have a kid? All we want to do is make someone's life a little better.
I understand there are double standards, and I know it seems like I'm bitter about them. I also know I'm putting you mothers who've had kids in a tough spot, because it seems like I'm calling you out about stuff. Rest assured, I'm not. I'm simply showing you all that there is another side, and I think that a good portion of you probably take having your own kids for granted.
Yeah, I get that some people might want to take advantage of the "financial benefits." I put that in quotes, because the thought of someone adopting a child so they can get a 20 dollar check in the mail every month is STUPID. You hear that? If you've adopted a child for the money, I'm calling you STUPID. You're also sick and twisted, and you're the reason why I'm having to jump through hula sized hoops to get a kid.
Do you know how much I weigh? I get about halfway through a hula hoop, and I get stuck. It sucks. And it's your fault, you douche.
So we bought a fire extinguisher. I even looked at the instructions. I've let The Missus answer a lot of the questions, although there was one in particular, "What would you do if you caught your child masturbating?" that she let me handle. How do you answer that question, folks? I mean, I know what my mother would have done, and I'm pretty sure that's not legal in most states. I think they call it "murder one."
So that's where we're at. We're filling out forms and trying to make the house look good, I'm pretty sure The Missus has vacuumed 34 times in the last 3 days. She's made blind cords shorter. I weed-eated the yard. I washed my truck. She has bleached anything with a non-porous surface in the house. We make the bed in the morning. I've tried to stop leaving dishes everywhere. We've got chemicals put up and emergency numbers written down. All so someone can come in tonight and tell us that if we try just a little bit harder, we'll get the chance to give a kid a life they never would have had.
Meanwhile, Susie and Joe Methhead are down the street, pumping out kids that are disabled and won't have parents by the time they turn 5, and I'm stuck making the decision to say that 5 is too old for us, we'd like a younger child without any drug dependencies please.
Try sleeping at night after making that decision. Try picking a child like you'd pick a basketball team on the playground. And for those of you who HAVE done it? How did you justify it to yourself? Because I'm having one heck of hard time with it.
To the future Sloat child that God has picked for our home, if you ever read this, please know that your mom and I struggled, but in the end, we picked you because we already loved you. You were the perfect fit for us.
Now excuse me, I've got to start working on saying "lovingly discipline" instead of "throat chop."
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
On The Adoption Process...
I'm a husband, father, son, brother, and friend. I teach English and Literature to the youth of today. I love Jesus and my mother, and I'll gladly introduce you to both. I love photography and writing. Duke basketball keeps me occupied for half the year, and hating Chapel Hill keeps me busy the other half. As you can tell from the title of my blog, I like stories. I'm a big guy with a big voice, trying desperately to be heard by someone before The Lord takes me home. Let's be best friends.