Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly Cry

i didn't get to skype with g&g today because the orphanage didn't have an internet connection.  that means i'm at three whole weeks of not seeing or speaking to the babies.  that also means that by the time next tuesday rolls around it will have been a solid month since we have skyped.  not cool, orphanage.  not cool.

i had a mini meltdown this afternoon.  instead of being grateful for all of the times that a third world country has had an internet connection that's allowed me to see my kiddos i pouted over the small handful of times that they didn't.  instead of being grateful that i will be on a plane to see the twins three weeks from tomorrow i teared up over a mom that was picking out a book with her daughter in a bookstore.  instead of giving myself a pep talk that included phrases like "pull it together, soldier!" and "that kid was bratty you wouldn't want them anyway" i leaned against a shelf in the history section, where i obviously stood the best chance of not being seen by another human being because history books are b-o-r-i-n-g and very few people want to read them much less buy them, and cried.

it wasn't my finest moment.  it wasn't the best i've felt in awhile.  it didn't make me proud of myself.
but it was honest.  and i needed to let it out.

so here goes...
today i am sick of looking at families with their kids and i'm sick of feeling the responsibility to either help raise $35,000 or feel the burden of 96 kids again being without a home or family (can't even begin to talk about this one today, will get to this nasty road block tomorrow) and i'm sick of not being able to buy my kids anything because i don't know if they'll be too old to play that certain game or read that certain book by the time they are officially mine and i'm sick of this new important life and miss my old selfish one and i really really really miss shopping and spending silly amounts of money on myself and my closet and my god i need a pedicure before the bottoms of my feet scrape through my flip flops and i'm sick and damn tired of being the kind of girl who just cries in bookstores at the beach. (oh yeah, at the beach.  because only i could stand in the middle of paradise and whine about my life being so rough)

i, seeking sympathy, texted an adoptive mom-in-waiting friend of mine who told me that yesterday at 1:30pm she ordered a whole papa john's pizza, answered the door in her robe, and devoured it in bed by herself.  

it made me feel better.  and jealous.  but mostly better.  but i love pizza.  but better...

days like today are exactly why we shouldn't judge people by single encounters with or stories about them (right? please say yes and cue the full house danny tanner 27 minutes into the episode hug music).


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