More like 20.5 days of crazy, really. June 10th, we finalize the adoption of our rugrats.
Holy. Fricking. Crap.
I’m a big flaming ball of stress because I expect something to go wrong. 8 years of infertility, 2 years of foster care, and so many dissapointments will do that to you. It was like this before we signed 33s too – I was literally hiding in the house not answering the phone because I was terrified something was going to mess things up – again – and again we’d fail at having kids of our own. Thank God Friday is the last day of school. I can sequester the kids with me and we can pretend the world doesn’t exist.
In the meantime, I’ve been trying to get everything ready for the adoption party. I know that come June dates, I will be absolutely worthless to anything taking planning and organization. I feel like I did when I was planning my wedding to Shaun – antsy and anal. This time, hopefully, I’ll have given better instructions to my helpers so I can enjoy the day. My wedding memories go like this:
CANOLI HAVE TO BE KEPT IN THE FRIDGE, OMG, IT’S 100 DEGREES OUT HERE, SHOULD I SMILE OR LOOK PROPER WHEN I WALK DOWN THE AISLE, I HAVE NO PANTY HOSE AND I FORGOT TO SHAVE MY LEGS, OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP!
I look at the pictures of the day and I really don’t remember ANY of it. None.
Now, Shaun and I are getting married to three kids. In a courthouse. I have visions of my littlest trying to strangle his sister with his tie, even though its a clip-on and my oldest making fart jokes while we’re supposed to be smiling for pictures. (Seriously, our Christmas pictures are of everyone smiling and him making the strangest face I’ve ever seen.)
In my sane moments, I’m trying to make it so that the kids can see how many loving happy people care that they’ve come into our lives. I feel like the universe owes that to them and since I’m the administrator of all universal debts, I have to make that happen. (Ok, maybe not so sane after all.) We’re doing a “tea and sugar” party – southern style. Sweet tea, lemonade, and cookies. The decorations will be rubber duck themed because, hey, I love ducks. Shaun’s nickname on w.com was Sir Duck and I have a duck tattoo and the kids fancy themselves our little ducklings. I have tissue packs with warning labels on them that say “DO NOT OPEN UNLESS FOR TEARS OF JOY.” I have little rubber ducks that I need to figure out what to put on them. We have customized Sharpies on the way (hehe, they’re permanent) that have cool sayings on them. Napkins, cups, and plates are all bought and stored in one big plastic bag under the boy’s bunkbed.
[Wordpress logged me out and lost the last half of the post. Crap. I’ll rewrite it later – it has to do with finding stuff for adoption parties online and a cheat sheet on how we pasted this thing together.]