I just read my last post and smiled.
Nothing has changed. It’s still too cold, too hard to blog on the computer when it’s in peters sleeping space and the only time I have to write us when he’s in bed and I’m just too pooped to do anything other than stare dumbly at HGTV while I check and double check my lists.
Everything has changed. We move in 8 sleeps. Home, to our beloved neighbors and our creek and everything else we have missed for 5 months. Home to a place where there is the space and freedom to shout stuff, shoot stuff, build stuff, grill stuff. Home where the appliances are not on their last leg (the coaxing it’s taken to get this washer into a spin cycle…I talk to the old girl like she’s just had a stroke and is learning to walk again), where the kitchen is open to the family room so I can be cooking and all that and still be with my family, where there is enough space that every move does not precipitate seven other moves that all end up with sweat in my bra and under breath cursing. Home where there is a new bed and sheets waiting to be washed and put on and a little handmade china doll for the pillow and all that to welcome a teeny girl who holds our heart. Putting her room together is going to bring me great joy.
But until then there is more packing. Lots more packing. Dude, google “China adoption trip packing list”. You’ll barf. There is me still trying to match fabric to recover one of the condo dining room chairs that met an unfortunate end with a heat lamp in December. Why have I waited this long? Why indeed. So, as soon as I can pull Dan away from the house, where he walks around with a stupid grin for at least a couple hours a day, we will be getting ready to blow this pop stand. But until then there is him, taking grant to spend his birthday money on an air soft gun, but coming home with a pellet gun that reaches from his feet to his boobas and gives me the vapors every time he wields it. A gun dan demonstrated to his boy last night and, in doing so, shot a hole through the carpet.  (He will make me write this anyway, so here goes: it wasn’t an actual hole, rather the barrel sparked upon discharge and melted the carpet. Dan is, in fact, very safe with weapons, so said gun was not loaded and therefor in no danger of harming anyone, even though I would argue that if it has enough power to melt the carpet it is too powerful, but that’s a cause I’m too tired to fight.). There is little chance of regaining our security deposit.
We will find out in the next week when we will travel. We are ready. Nearly packed, ziplock bags loaded with snacks and stuff to do on the plane, teeny clothes washed and smelling sweet, medicines for any ailment bagged and ready, bottles washed and added in. Documents copied and recompiled and neatly organized, passports and visas too, closed toe shoes ordered and on their way, pack able and cool dresses scouted out and mulled over, nana and papa on alert, hotels picked out, American flags and star shaped sunglasses (5 of them!) thrown in for consulate day, mama blogging at 4 in the morning because she cannot shut her brain off to sleep. Long looks at iCal and hearing the Smalls respond to, “Now, if we go in May/June you’ll miss…” with, “We don’t care. Let’s just go.” Bless them. We are ready.
This is me being real. Wondering what big and small things you’re gearing up for…