Emma-Bug

I get up two hours before I need to leave the house to make it to work a full 30 minutes late. Now if we break out our elementary mathematics here, if it takes Stephanie 45 minutes to get ready for work, how many minutes should she have left to get child up, dressed, let the dog outside, feed dog, feed child? Seventy five minutes right? But it doesn't work that way. Somehow, inexplicably, I am a sweaty mass of annoyed rush by the time 8:00a rolls around. In my house, the finite rules of mathematics do not apply.

And so it was this morning. Except on crack. Freebased.

First up, Emma has become the shittiest morning person in the history of mornings.  She begins shooting death rays ala Scanner's when she hears me coming up the stairs. While some lucky  parents (you suck!) wake to smiling, happy-to-see-you children, my child would full-on flip me off if she could. So the getting her ass out of bedhas become somewhat of a chore. Her father will play with her and make her laugh and giggle and eventually his good natured play will gently coax her out. I am of the "get up I don't want to hear it" camp. I can only take so much of the whine and "NO" before that vein in my forehead begins to pulse. We have had the same schedule since day one, there's no surprises here, get up! She will then ooooooze out of her bed, whining in that "you suck woman!" way, and then flop boneless to the floor. Then comes the "take your pull-up off and let's put Your. Pretty. Dress. On! charade.

"NO!" whine. whine. whine.

Remember when you told me that 3 was going to be ever so much worse than 2 and I laughed? Remember? I'm an asshole.

So downstairs to eat her yogurt and she begins to birth kittens because she doesn't get the "right" spoon. She wanted the bunny, she got the whale. My god the justice. She was going to have to deal with the whale. It's a fucking spoon. So protests and "I'm not eating it!" with the spoon tossed across the table. "Fine" I say and walk away and then more kittens and the final resolution that she's going to have eat with the whale spoon and that perhaps her mother is Satan incarnate and the world is indeed unfair.

Then it's the fight to get the rest of my makeup on while she hogs the mirror and pulls every item out of every drawer asking "why?" and then "why?"

I gather her Wednesday bag (she has splash, music and ballet on Wednesdays) and we're out the door. The time is 8:15a, it's taken me two and half hours to get out the house.

Now today I have to take a small detour to our corner bank because I didn't have a chance to go the day before.  I'm thinking two minutes, in and out. Hey, it's a drive-thru! Modern conveniences, they rock. I put three checks and a deposit slip into the tube and push the "send" button.  After about 20 seconds I hear the intercom come on:

"skdkjsl dkslid slkk kd lski"

"Excuse me?"

"lkksoid dks klsidi ks kdos"

I turn off my car and in the most quiet voice I have ever heard come from an intercom, she says:

"Do you see the tube?"

"The tube? No, I pushed send"

"I think it might have been dusty and it's stuck"

"It's stuck?"

"What did you put in it?"

"About $137 in change. I need singles please."

"You can't do that!"

At this moment Emma from the backseat screams "LET'S MOVE IT PEOPLE!"

"I was joking. It's 3 checks and deposit slip." My vibe was she did not see the humor.

So,whoooooooosh, and then whoooooooosh, and then another whoooooooosh and after about doing this 1,394,987 times it blurps out at the other end. A full 15 minutes later.

I then restart my car and turn up the air conditioning because CHRIST I AM A SWEAT BOMB!

Once again:

"slkds olkl kdsoi"

Goddamn it.

Turn off the car.

"Can I see an ID for your cash back?"

"------"

Today is not a "I want another daughter" day.

I think, maybe, I want to adopt again. Maybe. Having come through alive on the other side I know how terribly difficult it is and honestly, I'm not sure I can belly-up to the adoption bar again. I made myself terribly ill last time, hospitalized ill. There were a lot of factors playing, my whole world was wrapped up in something I had no control over, a medication for my endo that went terribly awry, but mostly I think it was the stress. I hate, detest, thinking I am so weak, but this ride is not for the faint of heart as you all know. The thing is I think I'm pretty good mom and Mark? No child could ask for a better father. We have so much love to give and there is room in our hearts. But that ride...

Life is complicate. I don't want to be greedy, Emma is spectacular. She is a handful but she is everything we've dreamed of and more. I can't imagine a more perfect fit. Is it a toss of the dice to think that magic could happen again? And the money, Christ the money. The first time around the decision was effortless, but the the thought of bringing a second daughter home, of changing the energy in our home, it's heavier. Things, although hectic and little scary at times, are good. Really good. Would I be playing with fire?

I have never mentioned it here, and very few people knew, but right after we brought Emma home we started the process, albeit preliminary, to adopt from Taiwan. We picked an agency, looked at the paperwork and then pooped out. It was too soon. Hell even now it may be too soon, but I am not getting younger and a decision will have to be made soon. And maybe that's part of it too, this deadline looming in the distance, this "too late" detour up the road. That's not a reason to build upon your family. But time, it isn't slowing down....

This has been what I've been thinking about lately, why I've been so quite. I've debated writing it because we all remember how intrusive people can be when it comes to writing on a blog. But ultimately this is my blog and I need to work through this.

 I've been reading this blog that signs each post "sugar-love & kisses". Obviously this woman needs to have the shit kicked out of her and tout de suite. Either that or she needs to share what she's taking because HI! it's super dooper unnatural to be that saccharine!

Sugar love & kisses AND THERE'S A HEART! And she's not SIXTEEN!

Christ! but that is annoying. 

So excuse my absence I was in fact lurking and mocking other blogs for I could. not. look. away. at. the. stupid.

OH MY GOD STOP USING EMOTICONS! Nothing in this world screams juvenile like regurgitating wee little cartoons.

In other news, Emma begins preschool on August 25th.

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Seriously I just don't know what to think about this. Shouldn't she be playing in mud and eating paste or something? I mean there are school supplies that we must procure, like writing tablets and colored folders. Now crayons I get, safety scissors I get, but folders? And writing tablets?

Its killing me, that's all I've go to say. 

So I'm going to buy the supplies and put them together in a cute little box and them I'll go to my car and cry the big ugly cry because she shouldn't be growing this fast, I don't care how smart she is.

[sigh]

Preschool! What's next, dating? Boy-girl parties? Makeup and arguing over inappropriate clothing choices?

Shut-up.

She also has picked up the word "fuck". Except it's more like "fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck." This one I'm totally blaming on Mark because I write it! I don't speak it!

Ok here's the thing, that is but 3 days after our Family Day of two years and I HAVE BEEN GYPPED BECAUSE THIS CHILD KEEPS GROWING AND I ASKED FOR A BAYBEEEEE.

I blame the CCAA.

Bastards.

So what's the wait up to these days? Six-seven years? Damn its good to see domestic adoption taking off in China. Its beautiful to see, no? Awesome. Yep.

Occasionally someone will actually ask me if I would recommend China for adoption and I have the worst time with it. Yes? No? I always give the big wuss answer "It's such a personal decision" instead of throwing my head back and saying RUN! ON ALL THAT IS HOLY RUN NOW!

Except when I think about it, it's not the process or the bureaucracy. It's the wait and the no information regarding the wait. Has that changed?

Who's waiting? Anyone?

Oh yeah, feeeeeeeeel for me people-feeeeeeeeeel my pain, for my child is smart! woe-is-me!

I am such an incredibly LARGE fucktard sometimes. Honest to Bob I annoy myself at times. Please accept my apologies for being such a big ol scaredy titty pants.

After obtaining a weeee bit of PERSPECTIVE I pulled up my drama-inducing big girl panties and decided I was in fact, completely full of shit and you know, did something; made some decisions about school and keeping Emma with Cate (Hey! Half days! Duh!), did some role-playing to teach her how to respond and engage with her peers (What? You mean social graces aren't inherent?) and then got the hell over myself and my epic wussiness with a side of self-induced parental guilt.

I know, I'm surprised too. I could have milked this for a while and look at me! I'm being all grown up and shit.

Hormones, they're a good time. Come, ride the roller coaster of emotions that is my life.

Feel for Mark, Dudes.

And no one...you dear sweet, compassionate people, screamed LINGUINE ASSHOLE!

I love you guys.

So enough already with that nonsense.

Ok, so speaking of hormones, my asshat "let's just yank yer uterus on out of there and that'll solve all your problems" gynecologist no longer excepts Blue Cross/Blue Shield and WOOOOOOOOOT! I don't have to see him anymore! God but I am happy about this turn of events. So long douche bag! I am Happy! Happy! Happy! Other than I have to find someone new but WHO CARES! Doctor Ass has left the building! Ugh I should have left him long ago, probably when I first started getting whiffs of his egotistical, sanctimonious, holier-than-thou arrogance. Suck it Doc! Sprout a uterus then we'll talk.  

Too much information?

Meh, like we all didn't know I have the gimpiest bits in Texas. As we speak the cyst on my remaining ovary is munching on the Alamo.

SHRINK YOU SON OF A BITCH!!

Hey it could be worse, I could talk about vaginal discharge. I'm not above it.

On a completely different topic that for the life of me I can't think of a segue for.....

 

We have a pony!

Lord but she is ginormous! Apparently I did not know the size of Doberman's because this? Not so much what I was expecting. When Mark turned the corner and I saw her for the first time, I was 10 years old again and had just been bitten. I was a leeeetle freaked out. She's going to eat my face!! But no, she's actually an incredibly sweet, docile dog (with the most velvety soft ears) who I'm having a hard time imagining has an aggressive bone in her freakishly HUGE body.

Seriously, LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER!

She very much wants to play with our kitty, and in fact I heard her voice for the first time this morning as she was trying to coax Agnus to her way of thinking......

I should mention.....Agnus is not amused. Not in the slightest and is a bit pissed.

Also, she's being a bit of a drama queen! Enough with the slinking around in slow motion!

But back to Scarlett's voice....

Christ! that would scare the skin off somebody! And when we walk her - yeah that's concern in the eyes of people who stop, zombie like, and stare at us. Of course it's not every day you see a person walk a pony in suburbia. So yep, pretty pleased. We're gonna strap her on up to a till soon to do us a little plowing.

Emma, as you can see, is doing splendidly. Given her obvious loathing of the cat, I expected the same and ten fold to compensate for size, but, no. She's rather curious and infatuated with her puppy and the puppy seems infatuated and curious of her. Emma even picked her a flower from the garden AND she's gotten ear kisses. A budding friendship for sure.

Although Scarlett's bark this morning scared the skin off her, so we'll see how it goes tonight. She's a fickle girl.

(Yes, Emma's nose....she was running in school, she tripped, she did a "home'r" with her face; it's actually gotten much better. She's completely self conscious about it, so, shhhhhh ix-nay on the ose-nay.)

Sent from Stephanie's iPhone