So the great big news of MY day is that my darling friend Christy, and her husband Scott, picked up their new baby girl, Janie, in China last night.
Which was Monday morning in China, because FUNNY HOW THAT WORKS.
Christy emailed me pictures first thing today, and this is what I have to say: I bawled like a garden hose had been turned on. I cried so hard, I couldn’t even SEE the snapshots she had attached to her email messages, but this is the honest truth: Janie is flat-out beautiful. We knew she was, because we had all seen the photos that the adoption agency had provided Christy and Scott with. But there are snapshots of Scott and Christy HOLDING Janie, and Janie is grinning from ear to ear, and all I could think was, “Thank you, Jesus, that THIS LITTLE GIRL has a family to go home to!” Because Janie is out of the orphanage now, and she’s going to spend the rest of her life being smothered in love and learning to put up with Thing 2, who has a big personality and can be a bit overwhelming, when he plays Demolition Derby with his toy cars.
Somehow, I don’t think Janie is going to appreciate Demolition Derby during their play dates. Just from the looks of her and from watching the video Christy sent, I think she’s going to be more inclined to have fancy tea parties, where everyone sits quietly at the table and sips Earl Gray politely, before they eat their lunch of noodles. All I can say is that Thing 2 doesn’t understand the phrase “sit quietly,” and he’s not into wearing fancy hats. Also, I wouldn’t let him within forty feet of a delicate, hand-painted china teacup, because he broke a ceramic cereal bowl, a thermometer and a clay vase at our house this week. Shattered all three of those things to pieces.
It was a genuine demolition derby.
Anyway, if you prayed for our friends while they traveled to China to grab Janie, I would like to thank you, and please keep praying that they arrive back home safely next week.
Today was one of those catch-up days, where I had to attend to the house. In all honesty, we can go from Spotlessly Clean to Is This a Meth Lab? in fourteen hours. This morning, we were at the wrong end of the spectrum, so some tidying up was in order.
Plus, our refrigerator looked like Old Mother Hubbard lived here, so I had to pack myself off to the grocery store, which is one of my least favorite chores in the history of forever. But, if my people are determined to eat, then I had to get them some food items, because I’ve never been very good at shooting a deer off our back deck and dressing it out in time for dinner.
(I think it’s in Proverbs, where it says, “She shall rise up and travel to the store, to secure Pop Tarts and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese for her people, when the gutting of the deer makes her squeamish.”)
And I even paid a visit to my hairstylist today, because I had these OVERLY BLONDE hairs sticking straight up in my part, behaving like Great Hair Enemies. And then there was the issue of me beginning to look like Burt Reynolds, which… let’s face it… happens when you’re no longer in your twenties. (I want to teach a college course to nineteen-year-old girls, and lecture them from the podium about THINGS THAT WILL HAPPEN BEYOND THE AGE OF 35 THAT YOU ARE PROBABLY NOT AWARE OF. And then we will create a list that begins with MUSTACHE and ends with WHY ARE MY BOOBS AT MY WAIST THESE DAYS?) So… I had my mustache waxed, and I had my BLONDE covered up with a good brown dye, and I’m emotionally secure again.
And as long as we’re talking about random things tonight, I’d just like to say that Thing 2 slept straight through the night last night…
… until he decided to get up at the crack of 4:30 this morning.
Do y’all know what I’m NOT overly good at?
Getting up at 4:30.
Especially because I had a headache last night that was more annoying than anything, but it came with a stretch of time where I was just flat-out UNCOMFORTABLE in my bed. I built my nest of pillows in nineteen different configurations, because yes: I am a high maintenance sleeper, which causes Hubs to sit up in the bed from time to time and holler out, “Lie down, Dog! You DO NOT need to spin a hundred and six circles before you decide to call it an evening!”
But listen. I have pillow issues. I have specific pillows that go beneath my head. I have a specific pillow that goes next to my chest. I have a specific body pillow. And all of these pillows need fluffed and settled in JUST SO, before I can even think about sleeping. And heaven forbid if one of these pillows is on the hot side, because I am a person who needs a cool pillow. Plus, we did not make our bed yesterday, which… I know… is a housekeeping sin. So when I got into the bed, the flat sheet was no longer firmly secured at the bottom of the bed, so there was too much sheet in my face, and the blanket was mostly on Hubs’ side, which threw me off, too. We can’t even talk about the fitted sheet, because WRINKLE CITY.
Hubs does not understand my “nest building” activities every night, because Hubs could fall asleep in a pile of dirty blankets beneath a bridge in a crack house district, without shaking a single one of them out. All he’d do is shake his head and exclaim, “It’s nothing a good flea and tick powder won’t take care of later.”
And yet… we manage to still stay married and in love.
So that’s pretty much how I wound up on the sofa at 11:00 last night. I hauled all of my pillows and a Sherpa blanket that was woven from the fluff off of the wings of baby angels, and I settled in for the night out there, with some hopes that COMFORTABLE would eventually meet up with me.
And it did.
And just as I was about to drift off to sleep, Cat 2 decided to walk around the house and howl. If she was the Most Interesting Cat in the World (which, I assure you, she IS NOT), she would shout out, “I don’t always howl at night, but when I do, I like to wander from room to room, screaming like a banshee giving birth without the benefit of an epidural.”
I think I finally fell asleep about 12:30 this morning.
And then I got up at 4:30, which certainly wasn’t MY choice.
Apparently my sleep deprivation study is still in full force, which is awful, because I didn’t intentionally sign up for it.
And I know that Benadryl is for allergies, and you probably shouldn’t take them JUST BECAUSE YOUR BABY DISRUPTS YOUR R.E.M…. but WHATEVER. I am pretty sure there is a bright-pink Benadryl tablet with my name on it tonight.
Whenever something has your name on it, it’s best to just own up and claim it.
Y’all have a very merry Monday evening.