So there it is. Paperwork finished and on its way to China by July. Here endeth the paperchase for The Baby To Be Named Later, and not a moment too freakin soon, I tell you. Adopting internationally is a joyous undertaking, a labor of love, and also a monumental pain in the a**. And the hardest part of it is not The People's Republic of China. No, no. Their affairs are quite in order, thank you very much. The major laggard is Homeland Security which now houses the former INS, which seems overly concerned with ensuring that I am not spending hours of my life filling out ridiculous quantities of paperwork in a covert effort to transport Baby Osama into these United States. Yes indeed, we'd best make sure that all the i's are dotted and all the t's crossed, adding months to the process, because we wouldn't want any Chinese-born 9-month old babies taking flight lessons in Arizona, now would we?
But I digress into crankiness when the day is actually a fantastically good one. Blame it on carpal tunnel syndrome, eye strain, and fatigue from doing the paperwork self-exposure equivalent of putting my feet in gyno-stirrups on a seemingly weekly basis for the past 4 months. And, as I have joked before, I will not tell my daughter that old chestnut about how "I loved you so much I traveled all the way to China to meet you;" I will tell her that I loved her so much I drove on the Beltway all the way to the FBI office in exurbian West Burkettvillapolis and ate lunch at a TGIFriday's just to get fingerprinted to go to China to meet her. Now, THAT, my friends, from a city girl like me, is some genuine motherly lovin'.
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