Despite the doubts that I've let creep in that this whole adoption will work out, it really has gone smoothly. I had a minor freak out a few weeks ago at my dad's house when I realized that I hadn't read carefully enough about all the things we still needed to do ("WHAT? We have to get CPR certified???"), but after a little encouragement, I realized that I could get it all done. I did, in fact, became a master of priority organization my senior year of college (even in the middle of a continental move during midterms).
So I got out my planner, wrote down the million things that needed to be done, and checked about five things off the list each day. I was done in about three weeks.
As the days went by, I thought, wow - this is really going to happen - the paperwork is basically filling itself out. And now here I sit, with extra time to blog and knit. We have nothing left to do but wait.
Sarah recently blogged on Spouse Buzz about the Army issuing us monkey wrenches. It made me think about how easy this whole process has been. And just when I feel like I can take a breath, the Army throws a big one at us. So, are you ready?
If Tucker is born around his due date, Scout won't be here. It's freakin' laughable.
Scout was supposed to be in Iraq last month, but his unit got extended to sometime in the near future (I'm trying to remain OPSEC, but he'll be here for a few weeks after Tucker gets here). Perfect, right?
All of his field problems are done, so he won't have to go play Army knowing that his baby has just arrived. More perfection.
And, he's gotten some leave approved so that we can be home for a few days together with Tucker. Perfection at its finest.
And yet, the one week that Tucker will most likely be here, Scout has been slotted to go to a school in Georgia. Super.
The school is a great opportunity - something that Scout is looking forward to. It just seems funny to me that out of the 52 weeks in the year, the biggest week of our life is slotted for him to travel a few states away to do something unnecessary (no matter how cool it is).
Yes, Army, I love you like Sarah does. But your sense of humor is kind of twisted.
Luckily, I've learned to laugh at you, compared to five years ago when I would have been highly ticked off.