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: