Countdown to Grown-Up Land

I have often thought and remarked that I don't feel like a Grown-Up, certainly not an Adult. I always reasoned that "Grown-Ups have a mortgage and kids." Whew, I was safely not a member of that club!

Then one day we decided we wanted to have the latter (the kid). Which, because of the cards Life dealt us, and the path we choose, necessitated the former (the house, which = mortgage).

The house was not something we wanted. For over a year now I have felt like I have let everybody down when they say to us with a happy voice, "Don't you love having a house!" Um, uh, NO, we don't! I love my hardwood floors. I love shouting at the tops of my lungs (could do that at our old funky apartment, though). I love that the house made our adoption possible. I love that the walls in Lil' Pumpkin's nursery are bright green and blue (as opposed to "rental white" or cream). But I most certainly do not love having a house. Sigh. On our best days, I would put us in the "reluctant homeowner" category. I will be forever working towards my dream of three-story townhouse -- I even have it picked out, if anyone wants to buy it for grateful me (try me, I am GREAT at being GRATEFUL!!!)

But now I am less than 3o days (28, if anyone's counting -- oh wait, I AM!) to being a legal parent to somebody. I already feel like her parent, of course. I have filled out endless (and I do mean ENDLESS) paperwork to justify our relationship & responsibility. I have updated my life insurance to name her as a big winner if we croak. We now have wills, which name her as the heir to our estate (LOL -- then SHE can deal with the house, hee hee), and name her Legal Guardians if, again, we croak (seeing her name in our wills gave me such a reality-check rush, but in a good way). Heck, I even have her pediatrician appointment booked! Phuck, I am even tossing out phrases like "Maternity Leave" in emails to colleagues. WTF?!

Part Two of being a Grown-Up, which, by my definition, is what I am on the verge of these last 28 days, is clearly within my grasp. It is just around the corner, and yet painfully far away. I suck at waiting, of course. When I want something, I want it NOW. No, make that YESTERDAY.

But Part Two, as much as it's craved (okay, SHE is craved by us), seems so scary at the same time. I am aware of this about a thousand times a day as I move about my not-loved but toddler-proofed house. I see hazards everywhere. I think about all the things that can go wrong -- my old fears and pessimism never can be fully quelled, I suppose. I take out her photos and glance at it, for just a few quick seconds, and then have to put it away. It's like I am afraid that if I stare at it too long, or dream too much, then POOF, it will all be gone. Because that IS when things typically go to shit in my life -- when I start to get comfortable with a concept or state of being.

(Cue my positive mantras . . . she is ours, she is ours, she is ours).

28 days. Holy Phuck. Should I be doing something wild to mark these last days as a NON-adult?! What is truly crazy and non-kiddie that I can do to commemorate my last fleeting days of life that don't include a toddler? Maybe I need to pull our my "24 things" list again. LOL, if only we had time to do one a day (not).

F' Mick.ey M.ouse. And F' Me, too.

I can not believe this. I received in the mail some piece of paper from some bank or whatever saying that during transfer of paperwork that contained shareholder information of Disney stockholders, a truck lost or misplaced some boxes that contained paperwork with my private information. I think this means IDENTITY THEFT is imminent. Of course it is. They are offering me 90 days of free credit monitoring, but actually I am not too worried because (through an employee benefit) I already have a credit monitoring service that checks my credit reports monthly for anything funky.

All this, because like 20+ years ago somebody in the family (I think my Dad?) bought me two friggin' shares of Disney stock. From which I get dividends yearly that add up to about 78 cents. Really, I am NOT exaggerating. It ranges from 43 to 97 cents in a given year. It costs me more to have this shit noted on my taxes returns and turn it over to the CPA.

So, I say FUCK M.ICKEY MO.USE!!!

And now, for the F' Me portion of the program . . .

I have been waaaaaay M.I.A. from my blog (well, this one at least), and my emails, and my workouts, and just generally absentminded. I don't like that. I miss the subsistence I had created for myself, even if I am moving onward and upward. But part of why I have been so M.I.A. lately is because I have been wrapped up in trying to help someone who has become very dear to me. This friend has been (in my blunt words), been operating in some other alternate reality . . . they weren't keeping aware of just what their situation was and is. I guess because I have/am/are kinda been there/done that, the things I said to this friend was a massive jolt to them, and it snapped them into acknowledging what their reality is, and examining themself and their options.

To put it mildly, I felt like a Dream Crusher. Like I sucked the wind out of someone's sails. I rained on their parade. I stole the rainbow they were painting.

I felt, and still do, feel terrible about all of this. I know I did the right thing by gently enlightening them (yes, stop snickering, I do actually have my gentle moments). It will help them in the long run to know the truth, and maybe they will learn from my own proactivity that burying your head in the sand won't fill an aching hole in your heart.

I want so badly to comfort this friend. And I have spent much free time over the past two weeks trying to do so. And to even help them acquire the mental and physical tools to empower themself. I have done so at risk to my personal well-being, and schluffed off some of my work responsibilities in order to do so. (I don't regret the latter).

I just feel crummy about all of it. I did nothing wrong, I am being uber-helpful to them.

I still feel like "DREAM CRUSHER" should be stamped on my forehead. SIGH.

Did You Get The Memo?

I have a confession to make. I could not be less interested in my job right now. Okay wait, that's not true entirely. I have a great job, have a terrific boss, and enjoy tremendous support (professionally and personally) from my Board of Directors and the general membership. Not to brag, but they all pretty much love me. And that's okay, 'cuz I have most certainly earned it -- not a snow job, I work hard for their interests, and have gotten results where others have not.

But damn, with so much going on in my personal life, I am lacking serious motivation when it comes to work stuff. I am going through the motions, and getting it all done, but I . . . just . . . I dunno . . . wish that tomorrow I could be independently wealthy so I could just pursue my personal life and interests. Which, let's be honest, might be fun for a couple of years, and then I would find myself getting drawn back into politics and the good fight (which I try to make entertaining for myself and those who pay me).

I have been praying for a few things lately, and on Saturday in church I added "be a better employee" to my list. Oi Vey.

Sucking Wind

So much has been going on in my life, and yet I am too stressed or busy or overwhelmed to speak of it.

Okay, so let me at least mark another reluctant weekend of home improvement progress . . . we managed the following:

• Bought more necessary crap for our pending trip to China (me, with help from my Mommy)
  
• Swept the basement (me)
  
• Swept the garage (Dr. J)
  
• Assembled the pressure-mounted baby gate (Me)
• Rust removal and repainting of porch railing (Dr. J, last week -- thank you!!!)
• Assembled the jogging stroller (joint effort)
• Assembled the regular stroller (me, last week)
• Ceiling fan with light mounted in baby's room (friend)
• Mounted the white wooden letters spelling baby's name on the wall above her bed (joint effort -- kee-rist what an ordeal, WHO KNEW?!?!)

Up next:

• Mounting of FOUR pressure-mounted baby gates (I really need to purchase this, I swear)
• More buying of necessary crap for trip
• Put foam bumpers on every conceivable sharp corner in living room, dining room, and baby's room
• Reorganize hall closet
• Rearrange linen closet, making room for baby's stuff and tub essentials
• Wash & soften up her sheets & pillowcases
• Steal lightweight suitcases from friends and family (USA weight limits on luggage are 55 pounds / China's are 44 pounds. Grrrr.)
• 6,413 other things that I keep re-remembering and re-forgetting. And reminding Mr. No-Short-Term-Memory (aka the lovely Dr. J) about them

Eh, at least we finally got our swimsuits for the trip. I can't believe I got a two-piece (top & bottom) AND a coverup skirt for the hotel, and managed to not have a self-loathing moment throughout it. WOW!

Miracles never cease, I guess.

IT'S OVER!!!!!!!!!! (And I couldn't be happier!)

Yeah, the Pens lost in game 6 tonight of the Stanley Cups Finals.

I won't have to be bothered by another friggin' hockey game until next season.

Thank you, Jesus.

I love sports. But hockey is my least favorite. I think I would almost rather watch NASCAR or Indy Car racing.

I don't care that the Pittsb.urgh Pe.nguins were in it. At least respect me for not jumping on the bandwagon like so many others. Would have been nice for the true local fans, granted.

YEAH, IT'S OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. Kirsten 2.0 tried to blackmail me by stating (in reply to an email I sent her about how glad I would be when all of this was over) that she'd rat me out to Dr. J about this -- LMAO! You think he doesn't KNOW this already?! Sweetie, remember, I HAVE NO FILTER!!!!!!!!!