I celebrate these colors of mine. I celebrate the degree hanging on my wall proving I put in long years of work and studying to prepare me to be a successful person. I celebrate the tassel that reminds me of how very good completing things can feel. I celebrate these colors because they remind me of relationships I made over my college career, some of them I still have today. I celebrate that orange is totally a good color on me and luckily, I’ll always have a reason to own several pieces in my wardrobe. Mostly, I celebrate these colors because I am proud to be a Cowboy.
Now if I can just get our nephew to show me his pistols in a way that doesn’t look like he is swatting flies. We will work on it Monday.
Is this not the best thing you’ve ever seen? Your eyes are not deceiving you, its kitty font. Best part? You can make ANY word our of cats! Just go to this page and type in a word. It will probably inspire you for a while. Like hours. Or maybe days. Good luck finding anything else as awesome online this month. You can take that as a challenge.
Today I tried to look at my blog stats but it was hard and confusing and looked like something NASA made up to make me feel stupid. However, you’ll be proud to know that I did find the box that tells me what people are searching when they pop on by. Wow, how nice to see that my adoption blog is going over so well on Uncle Google.
In the event you want to read a ‘real’ blog today, go over here and then read THIS she posted today. Oh and bee-tee-dub, I already showed this to Husbando and he said:
Some days he is just zero fun. This is one of those days.
Earlier this week our wonderful representative from Family & Children Services came to finish the home study process. We completed the interview and actual house stuff over a week ago but she had to write the report she submits to DHS and we had to review it for errors. I am not a fast reader so poor Husbando was tearing his hair out waiting on me to finish each page. But we got through it and if it wasn’t weird, I would have kissed that worker for all the nice things she wrote about us. But what is there not to like, right? According to how I read the report, she approved us for everything we want (four children, under 15, no major medical conditions, etc) and said we were well-adjusted and had a fun relationship. Right on! See why I like her?
So by now she has emailed the report to DHS and the department has to review it, making sure everything is accurate. If they have any questions our caseworker will call or email us but besides waiting on them to check it over, we have started the waiting game. And I’m happy to do it. I’m glad all this background check/life story/checking in my closets stuff is done. Not that I don’t think its important, just glad to have it in the past. I’m much better at waiting when everything is out of my hands. God works at His own speed, we all know that. Well go on, work Your magic. I’ll be over here soaking up the last few weeks, months or years in my craft room before I have to (gladly) give it up.
So to everyone that is going to be anxiously waiting with us, we PROMISE we will tell you ANYTHING we find out as SOON as we find it out. We like that you’re asking but if you’ve already asked three times this week, assume nothing has changed : )
Every morning we have a routine. My alarm goes off at 6:45am and stumble the two steps to the window. I open the curtain and check out what is going on in our front yard. Mostly I am checking to see if there is a Zombie Apocalypse happening or I missed the Rapture. Neither to date but I’ll keep you posted. I check to see if Consuela and Carlos are still there then I waddle to the bathroom. I put on my make-up, brush my teeth and get ready for the day. THEN the fun starts. At exactly 7:00 while Husbando’s alarm is going off I sneak attack him. I crawl my way up the bed, pounce from the side, roll from the other side, whatever mood hits me. I bother him enough that he can’t go back to sleep then I get up, get dressed and go to the kitchen to start getting our lunch ready. Sometimes I return if he hasn’t shuffled by me in the timeframe I deem acceptable. Today’s agenda was as follows:
Alarm goes off.
Look out window. No zombies.
Carlos and Consuela still there and not wet. Can wear new suede shoes today.
Shuffle to bathroom. Make-up and deodorant applied. Check.
Must have zoned out because Husbando’s alarm is already going off.
Leap from doorway onto bed like giant flying squirrel.
Following conversation happens:
- What if I was a spy? Like all this time I was a spy and you didn’t know.
- Then you wouldn’t be telling me you are a spy.
- Oh… well then I’m not a spy.
- You wouldn’t tell me that either.
- Well there are no spies. I didn’t say spy.
- Okay, good.
- But I could be one. If I wanted. I would make a great spy. Or ninja. I COULD BE A NINJA!!!
Log-roll off the bed and go to bathroom to brush teeth.
Appear in doorway brushing teeth. ‘Yuwr guwa bweee wate ig you dwont gwet mowvin! I mweann i-‘ Make a mad dash to the sink before toothpaste oozes from lip. Success.
Jump back onto bed with minty ninja breath singing ‘Wooooonnnderr Booooooyyy. What is the secret of your pooooweeeer…’ as loud as I can. Volume is important.
Husband eyeroll obviously means he loves it so I should continue sining this same Tenacious D lyric over. And over. And over. Luckily he could hear me from the 3 inches from his face I was holding my pretend microphone.
Kicked out of bed. Ouch.
So I got dressed and made lunch and met him by the front door to go to work. I am really going to miss these calm, slow mornings when I have to be the ringleader of a circus to get everyone where they need to go. I’m guessing, however, he is not.
What is it about sunglasses on kids that is so dang adorable? I have no idea but its about my favorite thing.
The alternate title to this post should be ‘I Just Want To Hang Out With My Friends’. Because I do. I just want to hang out with my girlfriends once a month and eat girly snacks while
gossiping catching up. Bunco is the perfect cover for that. I suggest if you have never played you just go to a Bunco Night. Shoot, come to MY Bunco Night! It is the easiest game ever. Three dice and you don’t even have to keep your own score. And besides the nights I make Husbando fill in, its ladies only time. We laugh, we tease, we eat, we drink and we are usually very merry. Couldn’t you use a night with the girls?
During our adoption class they stressed self-care. I use the term as an excuse to get a massage whenever I want but really the basis for the curriculum is to help in a bigger way because so many parents (adoptive, foster, biological, single) forget to take care of themselves. If you don’t take care of yourself then you are not being the best you can be for the kids. You mean ‘if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy’ is a real thing? Oh thank you DHS!
So even if you’re not adopting or fostering or even a parent, remember that taking care of yourself as a whole will make you a happier person. When you’re happy, you can do better in all parts of your life. Marriages, work, parenting, everything. So go to Bunco. Or get a massage. Or hike Kilimanjaro. Whatever makes you happy, try to do it.
Did I mention the prizes?
Sometimes you have to borrow your Baby Jesus from the nativity scene so He can be your partner. It happens.