I have made a personal vow to myself and a select few, (Jesus) to stop belly-aching about all this darn fundraising conundrum. I may be living and breathing it, but you probably don't want to hear it. So, for the time being I am putting my "Show me the money" routine on the back burner. Upward and Onward!
Which I guess is why I am having such a time trying to think of anything to say. Hmm...
On the paper pregnancy homefront, I was able to cross off another item on our dossier-to-do-list today. Local police background checks are officially complete and notarized. Cheers and applause are appreciated and expected. There is nothing like getting one step closer to saying "My paperwork is all done and ready for Addis Ababa." That could be the last phrase I utter before I die. At this point, it seems likely that it will be. I am not really cut out for all this paperwork. Assembling the neccessary documents for an Ethiopian adoption is about as fun as herding cats. Let that mental picture sink in.
In that regard, it could also be said of housebreaking a puppy. Anybody want a full blooded brindle Boxer? He's cute and cuddly and loves to chew. 7 weeks old and VERY ready to be a part of someone's family. Our 3 year old, Brett Favre, sired him and he was our breeders fee. Lucky us. He looks just like his daddy, who, admittedly , is not the most intelligent of dogs. My carpet and Uggs are pleading for relief. All proceeds from the purchase of said puppy go to Stanley Steemer. He would make a child very happy and a certain mommy very happy in his absence. Only $150 to a loving home.
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| Moments before this was taken one of the dogs broke wind, hence expression on Christian's face. |
Next week is Layla's Christmas Bazaar. We will be setting up tables at my sister-in-law's gymnastics gym. This is the brainchild of Meredith, my dear and much-appreciated social worker. There will be tables set up for vendors of Pampered Chef, 31, Canyon Candle Company, along with my homespun wares and possibly a jewelry company. All proceeds from this go to you-know-what.
Next week is also my 29th birthday or what I like to think of as my last official birthday that I will ever aknowledge. I feel it too. My left ankle is and has been swollen for 3 weeks thanks to full contact church volleyball. I have acquired a mysterious cold-like ailment that leaves me feeling like I was stampeded in a dryer by a buffalo with a seizure disorder. My week will be celebrated by utilizing vacation time and raising money. My husband has prior commitments because he obviously has no concern for his well-being and has scheduled his entire weekend at a church event. At some point in our lives he is going to learn that all I want and ever will want is a special date night, maybe weekend, for my birthday. I wouldn't care if it was to Taco Bell and the nearest Motel 8. Quality time is my love language. Unfortunately, he is not fluent.
Hopefully, dear readers, my creative mojo will kick in or I will be stricken with fantastic news that I must share before our next meeting.
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