Conversation with the munchkin the other day:
Aubrey: Mom, are we going to eat lunch today?
Me: Well, of course, silly...what time is it?
(Looking at the clock to see it's 1:30 p.m.)
Last week, Daniel (in as nice of a way as possible) asked, "Um, could you maybe just wash my undershirts at some point tomorrow...?" as I realized I hadn't done laundry in over seven days.
Focusing on non-adoption related things -- impossible.
Focusing on adoption related things -- consumes every brain cell.
For example, last Monday morning I received an email from the National Visa Center.
Instantly I noticed an important piece of paperwork had Shisi's name misspelled.
Life came to a complete halt.
I (by the grace of God and the prayers of many) had the NVC correct it by noon.
So while I can't remember to eat or clean, I can find a typo at 6:47 a.m. in a copy of a PDF on my iphone.
Speaking of iphones...
I broke mine last week.
Aka: I dropped it in the toilet.
Before peeing, just so you know.
However, I may have said a 4 letter word that starts with "s" and can be attributed to a bathroom function.
In other news, I am happy to report that I am completely finished with my Christmas shopping.
I am also finished with wrapping gifts.
Which, now that I think about it...I probably shouldn't have added those bells to the gifts we'll be taking to Kentucky. Guess we'll literally be jingling all the way!
Won't that be a fun 12+ hour car-ride...
So I have the last batch of our Christmas cards ready to mail.
If you aren't on our Christmas Card list, you're really missing out this year.
It's official: I've lost my mind.
Here's a preview:
Moving on to other holiday inappropriateness...
Aubrey's homework the other night was to answer the question, "All I want for Christmas is..." She decided to draw her response:
That would be Miss Aubrey wearing an Aurora dress.
Thankfully, when she met up with the Big Guy last week, she only asked for the dress.
I must admit, it has been incredibly hard for me this Christmas season...
I am missing my little Shisi's more than ever.
I'm not quite sure how I'm going to function December 25th.
(By the way, we are hanging on a prayer for travel approval before Chinese New Year.)
I saw a duck puppet in the Target dollar bin the Monday after Thanksgiving.
One of Shisi's first words (we're told) is duck.
I slid my hand inside and had the fuzzy friend give a little "Hello!" wave.
Imagining getting little Shisi to giggle with it made my heart leap.
Needless to say, this little fella wound up in my shopping cart...
As the cashier was ringing up my merchandise, she stopped at the duck.
Target lady: "I just bought the frog puppet for my son! Aren't they so cute? And so soft!"
Me: "Yes, I know!"
Target lady: "Who's it for?"
Me: "My daughter..."
Target lady: "Oh fun. How old is she?"
Me: "16 months old today..." (I felt a sharp pang in chest after saying that)
Target lady: "She likes ducks?"
Me: "Well, it was one of her first words."
Target lady: "Wow! She can say duck and identify a duck?"
Me: "Um. Well. I don't know..."
And at that moment, it took everything in me to not burst into tears.
I had several other errands to run that day while Aubrey was at preschool, but instead I just drove home in silence.
I took the duck out of the bag when I walked in the door, hugged it close all the way to my room, collapsed on the bed, and cried.
All of a sudden I was just sitting in a crowded area -- it was a mix between a hotel lobby/atrium or a hospital lobby/atrium -- holding our little Shisi.
I could literally FEEL her in my arms.
The feel of her cotton clothes.
She was smiling -- I don't have any photos of her with a big smile -- and we were both giggling.
Then she started "pooting". We started laughing even harder.
Seconds later I started anxiously thinking, "Do we even have a diaper bag? I think I packed one diaper...but I don't have any wipes..."
Then she disappeared, and I spent the rest of the dream frantically searching for her.
I want the first part of that dream back.
I didn't get to smell her skin.
Or touch the softness of her jet black hair.
Or kiss her round, pudgy cheeks.
Or tell her that I love her more than life itself.
I want to go to China.
I want my daughter home.