And so it begins. Me and husband recently began the great paper chase for adoption #2. A call has been made to our social worker that we need to update our homestudy and we anxiously await their call.
I told husband we should keep this quiet for now, since we really have a long road ahead of us and our timeline is so sketchy right now, who knows what will happen blah blah blah. Husband said 'Okay. Then he asked me if it would be inappropriate for him to call the people he may have told and tell them to pretend to NOT know. When I asked him who did he tell, he was unsure. People at his work, his cousin perhaps, maybe his brother, whoever he was talking on the phone with yesterday but couldn't exactly remember who that person was, or maybe it was his sister-in-law, definitely not both, maybe neither. He remembers 'thinking' about mentioning the adoption but not sure if the words actually made the trip from the brain to the mouth. My brain started to melt. So to avoid a stroke, I told him to just NOT be broadcasting the adoption news at this point. Agreed. It will be interesting how long this lasts, I suck at keeping my mouth shut when it comes to what is going on in my life. Everybody else's secrets go to the grave, my own secrets fall out of my mouth like loose baby teeth.
Of course there are some people in our inner circle that must know, like our best buddies Renee and Steve, that have the entertaining task of writing reference letters. My soul-sister Rachel, who had a dream I was pregnant and since her dreams are always freaky with symbolic meaning, it took me about a nano-second to spill the beans that I was indeed 'expecting' in a symbolic sort of way. And lets not forget; our friendly bankers, doctors, employers, local police dept and neighbors- all parties have to accommodate us with various letters attesting that; yes we are employed, we do have some money, we are somewhat healthy, we are not criminals nor do we aspire to be one.
The excuse I gave my husband to keep things quiet is bullshit. The gag order is really to protect myself and the poor souls that have any kind of regular contact with me. Frankly, I am a ranter and a raver. And a bitcher and a moaner. Plus, nothing in my life is ever without some drama. Add that annoying factoid to the task of trying to squeeze letters with mind-numbing (albeit ridiculous) specific details from various establishments which have to be notarized and certified. Signed in blue ink. On appropriate letterhead. With matching dates. With the correct names (because if you use my middle initial instead of my full middle name it renders the whole document useless and I will cry, then I will beat you until you bleed). No typos or whiteout. Never ever cross-outs or scribbles. Mix all those ingredients together and you have the fixins for a very ugly 90+ days ahead of us.
So shouldn't my precious family and friends be spared the day-to-day list of who-or-what-pissed-me-off-today-rant that I would certainly dole out every single day? Of course they should be spared. And dole I would. Because I just can't keep my mouth shut! That is just who I am.
So out of love for the dearest to me, they will not hear me screech about the numerous attempts to convince the moronic receptionist at the doctors office that 'Yes, indeed the notary MUST be present when the doctor signs the document. And that is the whole point of getting something notarized and NO that is not MY OWN MADE-UP RULE You stupid twit.'
So until all the paperwork is done, mum is the word.
To family and friends: You Are Welcome.
