It's spring-y here in the PNW. The trees in our neighborhood are either bursting into bud or into bloom. Crocuses are up everywhere. Our Puppy walks outside and blinks in wonder at the strange glowing orb in the sky, basking in the relative warmth while it lasts. We know it will rain again, as it always does, but for now it is quite lovely.
I burst out of winter into a cleaning frenzy. Yesterday I scoured the bathroom until it gleamed, and dragged the Mister out shopping for new sheets, a new rug to put in front of the kitchen sink, and a new shower curtain. I stripped the Puppy-muddied slipcovers off of the overstuffed chair and ottoman and gave them a good laundering, then went online and found a site that makes custom slipcovers for IKE.A furniture. I'm thinking of ordering this pattern. Today I bought two pairs of cute spring shoes.
We took the Puppy to the dog park, where he became obsessed with a pretty female dog, to the point that we had to leave so that she could enjoy the afternoon without him constantly humping her front leg. We then spent an hour driving around looking at houses, not realizing that the poor Puppy was getting a wee bit drooly from carsickness. If we had a spare bank account in the size of a down payment, we could have gotten ourselves into a really cute place just across the river from my office, with a golf course nearby to entice my FIL to come visit. Perhaps, with the way the housing market is now, the house will still be there next year when we're ready to buy!
And of course, we keep having the IF discussion that goes something like this: Sit down in the bar/cafe/pub/restaurant. Order drinks. One person says, "so what should we do?" To which the other person replies, "Oh, I don't know. Either way is fine with me."
I'm still working on the adoption paperwork, because it seems silly not to, but we also filled out the application to get full access to the online database of egg donors. They want us to submit a photo with our application, which I suppose is a way of seeing what I look like and/or making sure we don't appear to be axe murderers. We realized while filling out the application that we have no idea what the Mister's blood type is. He emailed his doctor, and she didn't know either. She suggested that he go give blood to find out. Practical suggestion, that. We sent the application in with that blank empty. My understanding is that coordinating the blood type of the donor with the blood type of the recipient parents is important if you want to hide the child's genetic origin. That wouldn't be our plan, so unless a good medical reason arises, the Mister plans to keep his blood for a little while.
I did the same thing here in London this weekend, except I didn't treat myself to cute shoes. It's cathartic isn't it? We are also in the same place emotionally. What are we gonna do? Dunno, what do you want to do? It's not such a bad place to be.
Posted by: Almamay | March 03, 2008 at 12:46 AM
Me again. I've tagged you on my blog. Hope you don't mind.
Posted by: Almamay | March 05, 2008 at 03:44 PM