What a hell of a week.
On Sunday, I glued one of my eyes partially shut with superglue . . . just for a minute. Or five.
On Monday, I got the call from the adoption worker telling us about the new person deciding after years of not making any effort to bring Smiley into their family that they now want him. I didn't talk much for the rest of the day. When I'm upset (or frustrated, or angry, or thinking a lot), I get quiet and clean things. On the bright side, our house is sparkly clean.
On Tuesday, our worker J called to let us know the adoption committee loved us, but that she had absolutely no idea whether we'd end up with Smiley or not. Thus, more quietness. More cleaning.
On Wednesday, Smiley's adoption worker called to confirm what J had already told us - that the adoption committee had no questions or concerns about us as an adoptive resource for Smiley, and that they'd have no problem offering us the option to adopt him IF he's not sent to live with this new person. The irony of that call was not lost on me. What would have been a, "Congratulations! It's a boy!" call was instead, "Congratulations! We think you're great but there is a strong possibility that you're never going to meet Smiley." More quiet. More cleaning - this time UNDER furniture.
Then O and I got into a squabble, which we never do. It was just his work stress plus adoption stress, plus my adoption stress and BAM, we're being not nice to each other. Luckily we have a rule that bad feelings are never allowed to go on. We don't jump in the car and drive away, or have hours of stewing and festering. We take few-minute break and then it's back together to work it out. We were almost immediately apologizing and hugging and back to normal, but the fact that we squabbled at all indicates the level of frustration going on around here.
Today? Well, hopefully today will be better. I don't have many things left to clean.
