1600 Brain Cells Down

This winter I read a lot of adoption blogs. Seven extra pounds on my ass worth to be exact. I would sit and become enthralled with the family as they proceeded through referral and then the blessed TA only to finally obtain the holy grail...plane tickets with firm travel dates to China. In my been there done that smuglyness, I would scoff when the packing discussion started as rocky road ice cream dripped down my chin and onto the keyboard.

Packing a coffee maker?..ha, don't they know that China now has Starbucks? Packing 150 diapers?...ha, don't they know about the dreaded evil corporate Wally is invading a Chinese city near you? Trash bags...they know about 'em and you can get 'em. Duct Tape by the supersize rolls? I never did exactly figure out what that was for.

Then the uber ridiculousness would start. Parents would explain that they weren't sleeping because of stress, general anxiousness or morose malaise caused by the fact that junior was a world away and they were well...in Wisconsin. Not sleeping, are you insane people? Don't you know that in about 4 weeks your sleeping life as you know it will be caught up in a world of 17lbs. of schreeking 3am madness spewing from one adorable black spiky headed spawn? For the love of God people, sleep whilst you can. Sleep in, go to bed early, do the horizontal hokey pokey with your spouse and then sleep it off, take a nap, doze off in the car...just SLEEP.

Here I am at the 11th hour. NOT SLEEPING. I've become one of them. One of the stupdido internets NOT SLEEPING BEFORE the adoption of bambina! At 1am I remembered to pack little packets of sugar in case Olivia doesn't like us and needs a sugar high to cope. (It's ok baby, any gal's gal needs a little "suga" to cope now and again, momma understands.) At 2am I remembered that we need a list of people to buy gifts for in Guangzhou. At 3am I remembered that we still haven't received an updated I 171-h after the whole re-fingerprinting party earlier in July, on my birthday no doubt! Holy shit, is that a burecratic problem I need to address?

I might have to tuck my "I have it all together" self under an ego sofa cushion and call the Dr. for a little Ambien or something. Man, I am NOT pleased.