Well as you can all see, the wait for birth certificate and travel date continues. The silence is deafening. At times, I emit an almost Zen-like patience that the Dali Lama would envy. This lasts for about three and half minutes normally during Project Runway (which I'm none too happy with this season I must say) or a frenzied flamenco class during a tornado, and then its back to the basic level of fret. Not so much fret, but irritated impatience. I sort of understand the bureaucratic reasoning behind the wait, but then I fear the gnomes and what sort of shenanigans they could inject into this process if it goes on too long (see a the Bad Day entry of August 1 for context).
Please gnomes, stay far far away from our son. Find other ways to channel your anger and thoughts of revenge. We'll pay you off, in some sort of gnome-accepted currency; small shiny objects, gingerbread condos, and/or of course, liquor.
Yes. You could say...I'm praying to the gnomes. Its possible. And bound to get worse as the wait continues.
In the meantime, my friends are helping me pass the time by turning one of the only two photos we have a Misho into truly high art.
If you are questioning my current mental state, you have every reason to do so. We're hanging by a thread here people.
David and I live in the big cold blast known as Chicago. We have two delightful doozers, Daisy and Ulysses. David is one of those lawyerly types, and I muddle around in the non-profit world. We are in the process of bringing home a delightful baby boy named Misho. Welcome to the Big Woo!