
So, yesterday we just had our post-placement. This is the last of our
home studies, when a social worker (other than the one to whom I am married) comes and evaluates your family to make sure you're all, like, not going to toss a baby in the crock pot for dinner or something.
(We have been tempted.)
The post-placement gets done at the end of everything, a year after the bundle of joy is plopped in your arms at the Social Welfare Institute or Civil Affairs Office or hotel conference room or wherever and you're wondering, "Is this it? When does the magic happen?" and somehow over the next 12 months it does. But you still have to prove that to the Chinese government one last time, more as a courtesy than anything else.
- Be amenable. We just met our social worker at a turnpike rest plaza about an hour and a half's drive north of here. (As if showing up in a government office with a briefcase full of cash didn't make one feel enough like one was engaged in shady business, or at least like a bit player in The Italian Job.) It was a convenient place to meet someone whose "beat" is most of the northeastern part of the state from Jacksonville to Orlando and a few points further south. This kind of large region of responsibility is not unusual in this game, so a willingness to go anywhere you can get the whole family together is a bonus. A place where there is food is also prudent, for food keeps little tempers from fraying (and big tempers, too).
- Don't make jokes about tossing the baby in the crock pot. The social workers are busy souls, most of them, and have to deal with all sorts of lunatics as part of their job (or, more likely, jobs). Quips about pinching the baby, feeding the baby to the dogs, or tossing the baby in the pool light up all the wrong alarms.
I know. Don't ask me how.
- Be, like, a family. There's really no right way to do this, and very few wrong ways. Treat the children as you normally would, and don't sweat it. If there are things that seem a little off, mention them - the social worker's job involves things like knowing speech consultants and family therapists. Some actually are those things when not doing home studies or post-placements. Even the goofy ones have wisdom in these areas (not to imply ours was goofy - she wasn't). And don't be shy about bragging, either. Because that's the fun part.
And really, that's about it. It's a low-impact end of the race. Enjoy it.

Just for comparison, this is son (son!) as he was last year.
Come a long way, hasn't he?