braindead

Tomorrow morning we have our informational conversation with our adoption counselor. At 9 am PST. We have a long list of questions that are both banal and illuminating.

Am I going to hell because, in case we happen to adopt and African American baby, my ancestors likely owned slaves and neither Steve nor I currently know/socialize with any African Americans and would therefore not be able to provide our adopted child with a role model who looks like her?

Is it bad that we chose "girl" because a) we can since we're adopting and b) I really really want a girl?

Is it wrong that the fact that my Brother In Law will soon become "Uncle Duc" makes me gigglesnort?

Ok, those last two aren't actually on there. We're adopting (and paying through the nose for it) so we should be able to choose our gender.

Luckily, I've been distracted for the past week by a visit from a very dear friend. She came, she slept on the AMAZING air mattress in the guest room (review to come on the embrita blog), we went shopping, hiking, to Monterey Bay, and into San Francisco. There was cooking, baking, giggling, marathon style Weeds watching (if you can cope with the R rating, I HIGHLY recommend it) and now I'm so tired. I might sleep all day after the phone call. If I'm not too wired.

So it's time to head and get some sleep so that I can form sentences for at least the crucial hour or so tomorrow.

I leave you with a photo of the good times:

One Phone Call

and I'm all veklempt.

I just got off the phone with the scheduler for the lawyers. Our consultation is next Wednesday (April Fool's day) at 9am.

Rundown:

We are getting a package (complete with DVD) in the mail in the next few business days. We review and make up a list of any questions we have. Then we meet with the consultant to go over those questions and find out what the fees will be...let's just say that the next time someone says "it's going to cost your first born child" you can equate that to a new Prius. Or a new Mercedes.

The irony is that our insurance will cover infertility treatments. If I manage to get knocked up, it would cover the maternity care - 100%. We have INSANELY good insurance. But there is no financial help for those of us who chose not to undergo hormone therapy and adopt a child instead.

Anyway...so we go through that. And then we put together our family album for the birth mothers to look at. Because they chose us. Not the other way around. People with stage fright need not apply.

We have decided that a semi-open (we'll determine if you can actually decide this later, but for now it works) adoption is the way we're going to go. Because it won't ever be a secret that our children did not spring from our loins. Or our foreheads. So Christmas, birthdays, other major life events will warrant photos and letters. Maybe not as open as my cousin, but then that is a unique situation.

I had to email them a first photo so that they could stick it in the file. This is harder to do than you would imagine. Think about your photos...do you have one where both you and your spouse/partner are looking at the camera, smiling, not wearing some goofy costume/waving around a drink? And where you don't look like sociopaths? Right. One. Maybe two.

Our winner:

Taken in September of 07. Word.

So that's where we're at. I have that high dive feeling again.

OH. And. Once we are deemed "worthy" and we have the funds (read: have sold vital organs) the average match time is FOUR MONTHS. Four Months. Four. Four.

I need a drink.

Stuffy Stuff Stuff

I took this with my phone. We're at Planet Granite, which is awesome. I love climbing and I love that Steve is starting to climb with me. I'm also inspired to make this weird part of our backyard into a climbing wall.

This weird part:
First there will be lots and lots of cleaning, obviously. It's neglected back there.

Tuesday my friend Jessica is coming out to visit for a week. We're going to go in the city and bum around for a day and then hike another day and there's talk of going to a winery...should be good times.

On a completely jumping-the-gun note, I've started to plan out our nursery. We haven't even met with the counselor yet, but I've already rearranged the house in my mind to make room for a baby. The things you think about while you're folding laundry...

Oh, and also - there are photos up on the artist rising site for purchase as posters. I add more every few days as I edit and they get approved, so check back from time to time. And pimp me out.

So there's that. And in honor of a lazy Sunday afternoon, I think I'm going to take a nap.

New Tag

"Thank you for visiting XXXX and for giving us the opportunity to help build your family through the miracle of adoption.

You have just completed the first step of your adoption journey."

You read that right.

Step One. Check.

So from now on, when I blog about our Journey, there will be the adoption tag. For easy reference.

Happy Sunday!

My Yesterday, in which I showered with my cats

So I'm instant messaging with my sister yesterday:

4:47 PM i just showered with my cats.

There's more chatting about kittens a friend of ours is in possession of and then:

5:14 PM it just occurred to me that you showered with your cats!?!?!?!?!

Yes. And my only regret is that there are no photos. She got the condensed story as to why, so I'll switch over to a chat I had later with another friend, who got the story in detail. I will, of course sanitize my language a bit. (Although why, I'm not really sure. If you want a culprit just know that I'm re-reading Catcher in the Rye and Salinger has a mouth like a sailor.) Oh, and my friend is referred to as "Female" on my chat program. It's a short, boring story for another time.

Oh, and one more thing: Polly weighs in at 12 lbs and Kipper at 17lbs.

9:38 PM Female: sorry, had an emergency "there is bunny poop on my hands" emergency...

me: yikes!

so we've both been made poopy by pets today :-D

Female: lol soap and water

9:39 PM hahaha what the @#$% happened to you and the whole poop thing?!?!?!?

me: you didn't want to shower with your bunny?

Female: yeahhhhhh no.

9:41 PM me: so for the first time in their entire lives the cats did not use their litter boxes. They had crate angst. Kipper peed in the crate on the way to the vet, which was embarrassing (ish) enough - mostly for him. And then I had to leave them because of their paperwork [ed: in case you've missed it, we moved from Dallas to San Jose...apparently the cat's paperwork didn't make the trip, despite requests for it] and then he pooped in his kennel (not uncommon and he was there for hours and hours) and backed into it so it was on his back paws.

Female: oh gross!!!

9:42 PM me: Well he has kennel rage. Like Dr. Jekyll/ Mr @#$hole kind of kennel rage and so when I get there they asked me to get them out of their kennels, which I did no problem. Kipper's claw was bleeding where he'd caught it trying to dig out of the kennel. Polly was in the back hissing at anyone who wasn't me.

it gets better

Female: lol!!

me: so I get Kipper and we sit on the floor and the vet comes over and treats his paw - minor wound, he puts silver nitrate on it and it stops bleeding and we're all good.

he goes in the crate. [ed: Vet assures me that from now on the cats will be anesthetized. I'm all "Duh. Told you." But more respectfully, of course]

Female: and drn?

9:43 PM den?

9:44 PM me: I pull out Polly, who is still angry but lets me pull her. And her little paws are all sweaty and she does NOT want to go into the crate with poopy Kipper. Not that I blame her in the least. But I put them in one crate because they calm each other in the car.

Female: poor polly

me: on the way back I'm halfway home - with the windows open on the highway which I never do but EGADS THE SMELL - and then suddenly there's no crying

and then there's more crying

and then WHAT THE @#$% DID YOU @#$% AGAIN?

Female: holy!

me: and yes.

Female: HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!

9:45 PM omg!!!!! Hahahahahahahaaaa!!!!!

me: I didn't realize that I was right until we were in the back bathroom and I was closing the crate so they wouldn't get back into it and track it around - this was not a solid poop and kipper has slid in it while he was freaking out about Polly (I assume) pooping and so it's all over the crate and all over his hind legs.

so I turn on the shower. Grab her by the scruff, pull the door open a bit and toss her in.

9:46 PM Howling like you've never heard. Like the water is acid or something.

Female: ohhh myyyyyy gaaawwwwd

me: grab him by the scruff, slide the door open and push him into her face so she won't get out. But she does.

Female: oh @#$%!

me: push him in, slide door closed (I'm naked this whole time, btw)

Female: WET @#$%!

NICE!

sounds like something i'd do

me: grab her by the scruff, and we body block Kipper from getting out while we get in

9:47 PM I'm sliding around on my @#$ trying to keep them in and get the door closed and not get scalded by the water which has suddenly become very hot.

Female: oh crap!

me: I adjust the water (blocked them with my body until it was decent) and pull off the shower head, which is on one of those hoses.

Female: thank GOD!

9:48 PM me: then I just chased them around with it while they crawled up the door, the walls, my leg (Polly) and every now and again I'd reach down and hold up Kipper's tail and just spray him in the @#$ until he managed to get away from me.

Female: HAHAHAHAHAAA I have so done the @#$ spray

me: when I was satisfied they were clean I gave them one more spray, held the door closed with my heel because Polly has figured out how to open it, and washed my ENTIRE BODY with my Burt's Bees face soap because it has witch hazel in it.

9:49 PM Female: omg

me: then I wrapped them in towels and dried them as much as they'd let me and then I set them free and I sprayed bleach EVERYWHERE.

The crate is still outside.

Female: did you come out unscathed?

me: I did,

Female: WOW!

me: mostly I just wish I'd had my camera.

Female: thats amazing

me: they hate me

Like I said before. I just wish I'd had my camera.

This picture was taken last month. It's the most recent picture I have of them.

Happy Friday!

German Commercials

They're just better sometimes.

My car, which already has awesome commercials...this one is just better:




PS - 4 images are for sale as posters/prints, more to come as soon as I stop doing other things (which actually includes taking more pictures) and edit/post them.

Link

ps - it says "0 originals for sale" because you can't buy the original piece. It's not a painting, it's a piece of film. If I were selling paintings then you could buy the original or a print of the original. And I might start painting again. That actually sounds relaxing. Just call me Renaissance Girl (just leave out that math/science part...)

Jumping In

Please see inspirational blog here.

A-hiking we will go...

(source)

So we did.

Saturday morning, we took advantage of the break in the rain, got in the car, followed some not-very-accurate directions, and wound up here. In the middle of the (not giant) redwoods. We picked what we thought would be a moderately easy trail, but somehow ended up with 30 degree incline for most of it. My legs are still tired.


But it was very pretty:

Our house is somewhere in the haze between where I was standing on the far mountain. I have no idea where, though.

And I got Video of a Salamander:




In other news, we joined a climbing gym out here: Planet Granite. It was great. The Sunnyvale location is like the mecca of indoor climbing...and yoga. And as a bonus, we also got our REI dividend in the mail....and I'm going to use that as a segue to talk about how much I don't like hiking shorts. They're just not flattering. I get that they serve a purpose and they're comfortable and yada yada yada...but ever since the foot surgery a million years ago I've been partial to skirts over shorts. I blame the almost 6 months of being in some form of cast. Luckily, the active-wear designers out there heard my opinion and have made...the hiking skort.

(source)

And there are many many styles. So this (along with some yoga tops and maybe some capris) will be what my dividend dollars go to. And as soon as it gets warm (stupid rain keeps every day hovering in the 50s) we'll be out and about every weekend. Yay!