Monday, August 16, 2010

These Boots Were Made for Walkin'

I have no actual song lyrics to go with these pictures. Turns out, it's kind of a trashy song, especially when paired with ridiculously cute pictures of your one year old.
And now on to something completely unrelated...These next few weeks on my calendar make me want to cry. What I wouldn't give for two weeks to just spend every waking moment with Brandon and the kids, lots of quality time, making sure that the house is spotless and ready for our new addition before we leave for our 2+ weeks in China.

Because when we come back, our lives will be different forever. And it may take a few weeks or months for this girl to realize that it has changed for the better:
But now? Now we have a breakneck work schedule that I set up before I knew we were traveling, a mini-family vacation, the first day of school for Dane (we will be in China for Aidan's first day of school. Insert massive amounts of Mom-guilt HERE), Aidan's water-themed backyard birthday party, cleaning the house for the Home Team that will be staying here and helping us with the kids, packing for them, packing for us, and just in general figuring out all the little logistical details involved with our trip. And I think I can justifiably say that I NEED to get a haircut before I leave. If you have seen me recently, you know that this is in fact a NEED, not a WANT.
And then I look at this face, and all I want to do is sit on the floor and read The Very Busy Spider 100 times a day.
And don't even get me started on the adoption books. Though there's only one on my nightstand right now, the more forums and blog posts I read, the more I realize that there are about 1000 books relating to adoption. For about 1000 different issues that your child may or may not have. For every horror story there is a wonderful story, and it's impossible to know what you should have been prepared for until issues arise. Or don't arise, however the case may be. I have decided to not make myself any crazier between now and September 1 (aka Leaving Day) by trying to cram anxiety-inducing literature into my brain. I will bring it on the trip, we will have an hour or 23 to kill on the plane, and I'm sure my anxiety level will be at an all time high by that point anyway.

Please don't ask me to explain why the above paragraph is bold. Figuring it out is not on my TO DO LIST TODAY.

I'll leave you with this pretty face, which I won't get to see for two whole weeks:

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