I think the abbreviation "LOL" is a bit overused, so let me just start by saying I really did laugh out loud. I almost shrieked in glee. Ask my husband; he shouted downstairs to find out what all the hullabaloo was about. Next, let me say that if you've never seen the show "Firefly," you will not understand why this is so damned funny. That being said, if you want to continue, please click on the clip & enjoy.
CORRUPTING THE UNWARY SINCE 1986
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
An emotional roller coaster comes to a full and complete stop ... and we are sad.
It's time to relate the events of the last 9 days. When we embarked upon the adoption process, we had discussions with our adoption counselor & amongst ourselves about how much information we would share at different stages of the process. We decided not to share any information about the early stages of any selection process, and we're glad we made this choice, although it's been tough for the last 9 days. Having a 3 day weekend away, in Walt Disney World, was perfect timing. It gave us the chance to talk, to regroup, to dream, and to connect with each other. So, here's the story.
On the 20th, we received a call from the adoption agency, about "a situation." I fielded all the details, and it sounded pretty good. An African-American little girl, whose due date was 12/3. I shared it with K, and he agreed, so we asked that our profile be shared with the birthmother. Then, we just had to wait. All through our trip, we saw little girls & thought about what it would be like to be parents of a little girl. Suddenly, the onesies in the gift shops drew our attention. We knew our profile would be shown sometime this week. We thought about what our current plans were for December, and how significantly they'd change if we had a little baby by then.
We came back & we waited. And Tuesday afternoon, we got the call. Again, I fielded it. Sadly, the birthmother had "gone with another family." Before I could be too dejected, though, the adoption counselor said there was another "situation" that might be a good fit. An African-American baby boy, now almost 2 weeks old, recently moved from the NICU. Some birth trauma, but nothing that seemed like something we couldn't handle. Again, I shared the info with K, and again, we agreed for our profile to be shown. How would we feel about being parents of a little boy? What would be different about parenting a boy, instead of a girl? We knew that the agency planned to share profiles with the birthmother yesterday.
Yesterday came & went. I mentioned this afternoon, when K got home, that I didn't know why we hadn't been called, and the tension was getting to me. I went downstairs, and the phone rang. He saw it was the adoption agency, from the caller ID, and picked it up. I came back upstairs, and he looked at me & just shook his head. I am so incredibly sad. We got pretty attached to the idea of being parents to these 2 little babies. I'm glad to be off the roller coaster for now. I'm glad that finally our profiles have actually been shown. And I'm sad that we weren't picked.
A tiny voice inside me wants to know if there's something wrong with us, and that's why we're not getting picked. A more rational voice says that it just means it's not a good fit, it's nothing about us that's wrong. And a spiritual voice pipes in to say that in time, we'll understand why things are unfolding the way they are. And my emotional side isn't saying anything at all. It's just crying.
We'll get through this, and I have hopes that in time, an adoption will come through. Heck, we just got an invitation to create an online profile, which will make it easier for birthmothers to find us. I'll probably work on that sometime soon, just not tonight. I need time to just be, I think.
On the 20th, we received a call from the adoption agency, about "a situation." I fielded all the details, and it sounded pretty good. An African-American little girl, whose due date was 12/3. I shared it with K, and he agreed, so we asked that our profile be shared with the birthmother. Then, we just had to wait. All through our trip, we saw little girls & thought about what it would be like to be parents of a little girl. Suddenly, the onesies in the gift shops drew our attention. We knew our profile would be shown sometime this week. We thought about what our current plans were for December, and how significantly they'd change if we had a little baby by then.
We came back & we waited. And Tuesday afternoon, we got the call. Again, I fielded it. Sadly, the birthmother had "gone with another family." Before I could be too dejected, though, the adoption counselor said there was another "situation" that might be a good fit. An African-American baby boy, now almost 2 weeks old, recently moved from the NICU. Some birth trauma, but nothing that seemed like something we couldn't handle. Again, I shared the info with K, and again, we agreed for our profile to be shown. How would we feel about being parents of a little boy? What would be different about parenting a boy, instead of a girl? We knew that the agency planned to share profiles with the birthmother yesterday.
Yesterday came & went. I mentioned this afternoon, when K got home, that I didn't know why we hadn't been called, and the tension was getting to me. I went downstairs, and the phone rang. He saw it was the adoption agency, from the caller ID, and picked it up. I came back upstairs, and he looked at me & just shook his head. I am so incredibly sad. We got pretty attached to the idea of being parents to these 2 little babies. I'm glad to be off the roller coaster for now. I'm glad that finally our profiles have actually been shown. And I'm sad that we weren't picked.
A tiny voice inside me wants to know if there's something wrong with us, and that's why we're not getting picked. A more rational voice says that it just means it's not a good fit, it's nothing about us that's wrong. And a spiritual voice pipes in to say that in time, we'll understand why things are unfolding the way they are. And my emotional side isn't saying anything at all. It's just crying.
We'll get through this, and I have hopes that in time, an adoption will come through. Heck, we just got an invitation to create an online profile, which will make it easier for birthmothers to find us. I'll probably work on that sometime soon, just not tonight. I need time to just be, I think.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Dangerous Neoprene
Okay, this story is just too funny for me not to relate. And I have promised not to give the details of which friend I am referencing. That being said, let me tell the story:
A friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) (and who has lost a significant amount of weight recently) said to me today, "I almost called you at 11:30 and asked you to come over and help me, with your eyes closed." Well, that certainly conjures up some interesting ideas, doesn't it? She goes on to explain that she and her husband are planning on getting recertified to dive so they can go on a diving trip in mid-December, so she decided to try on her wetsuit, which was previously too small for her to get into.
Well, after 7 minutes, she had it on up to her knees (at that point, I would've given up, I think, but she's much more persistent than I am). A few more minutes and it was up to her hips. She said at about the 25 minute mark, she had just gotten her arms through and rolled the shoulders over. At that point, she realized that she had gotten rather warm, the suit being made of unbreathable neoprene, and her having exerted an awful lot. So, now she has on a too-small wetsuit, which has now glued itself to her body. Oh, did I mention that she'd decided to not put on her swimsuit, but just to try it on in nothing but her panties?
Oh, but this is not the point at which she considered calling me for help. She managed to get it off her shoulders, and partly rolled down her upper arms. At which point it got stuck. So, now she can't move her upper arms, just her lower arms. THAT is when she thought about calling me. Instead, she found a backscratcher & was able to insert the handle strategically, create an airpocket, and slowly extract herself from the offending wetsuit.
Even she finds this whole thing wildly amusing. I can just picture her, flailing around, with her arms stuck to the side of her body, brandishing a backscratcher & hen trying to decide if she can dial for help without being able to see the numbers on her phone.
A friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) (and who has lost a significant amount of weight recently) said to me today, "I almost called you at 11:30 and asked you to come over and help me, with your eyes closed." Well, that certainly conjures up some interesting ideas, doesn't it? She goes on to explain that she and her husband are planning on getting recertified to dive so they can go on a diving trip in mid-December, so she decided to try on her wetsuit, which was previously too small for her to get into.
Well, after 7 minutes, she had it on up to her knees (at that point, I would've given up, I think, but she's much more persistent than I am). A few more minutes and it was up to her hips. She said at about the 25 minute mark, she had just gotten her arms through and rolled the shoulders over. At that point, she realized that she had gotten rather warm, the suit being made of unbreathable neoprene, and her having exerted an awful lot. So, now she has on a too-small wetsuit, which has now glued itself to her body. Oh, did I mention that she'd decided to not put on her swimsuit, but just to try it on in nothing but her panties?
Oh, but this is not the point at which she considered calling me for help. She managed to get it off her shoulders, and partly rolled down her upper arms. At which point it got stuck. So, now she can't move her upper arms, just her lower arms. THAT is when she thought about calling me. Instead, she found a backscratcher & was able to insert the handle strategically, create an airpocket, and slowly extract herself from the offending wetsuit.
Even she finds this whole thing wildly amusing. I can just picture her, flailing around, with her arms stuck to the side of her body, brandishing a backscratcher & hen trying to decide if she can dial for help without being able to see the numbers on her phone.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
"After" photo
I've lost 21 pounds ... and he's lost 33. And we think it shows!
I'll have to dig around for a before photo....okay, yeah, here's one from May 2009.
We're both down by at least 2 sizes, so we're pretty happy. And we're planning on keeping on doing what's working for us, too!
I'll have to dig around for a before photo....okay, yeah, here's one from May 2009.
We're both down by at least 2 sizes, so we're pretty happy. And we're planning on keeping on doing what's working for us, too!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Days 28-30 for Shimelle's Learn Something New Every Day class!
Well, we've reached the end of Shimelle's class! Here are the final 3 pages:
It now remains for me to punch holes & make a cover. First I have to find the chipboard ... and the rings. I had thought to use my Bind-It-All, but there is no way this monster will fit.
It now remains for me to punch holes & make a cover. First I have to find the chipboard ... and the rings. I had thought to use my Bind-It-All, but there is no way this monster will fit.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
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