I like to move it, move it.

I have tried to write posts with adoption updates, but even though a lot was going on behind the scenes, there wasn't a whole to actually say. I wrote one, but it came across very "Debbie Downer" so I never published. I tried again later with a more positive vibe, but it wasn't authentic at all so I didn't post it either. Then a couple days later... we were nearing the last-possible-second-to-get-approval-and-still-travel-in-July and I was about to lose it. I wrote something sharing our despair, but Debbie was so down at that point, she was practically laying flat on the floor. 

"This is the last week that we could get our approval and still travel in July. There are a million reasons why we need it to be July. He needs it to be July. Our other children need it to be July.  We need it to be July. For six months we have had our hearts set on traveling this summer. And it was every bit of plausible for most of that time. The mess of red tape and consequences our first agency left us in was a real doozy and quite frankly, they blew it. The wait is painful no matter, but waiting longer because someone made a deliberate, hurtful choice just plain sucks."

See. 

Have I mentioned the amount of mixed nuts I have consumed? All the mixed nuts. Apparently, they have become my anti-anxiety drug of choice. I eat all the mixed nuts all the times.

I lay awake night after night, desperate and pleading, trying to give it all away.  One million cans of mixed nuts later (and a lot, like... a lot) of crying, I finally realized I was silently screaming to God, "I GIVE IT ALL TO YOU! All of it!  BUT..." 

But. Except. Almost. Not really. 

And then Satan laughed and laughed and had himself a little field day with my heart. Blue Ribbon goes to Satan in these events: Fear, Control, Anxiety, Comparison, Envy and Confusion.

So when we missed our July Boat (quite recently), I had myself a good little pity party, dusted off my hands, and said, "Well... that's that." You take it. I don't want it anymore. Not even a little.

Now we weren't desperate to get there in July, and it didn't make all the difference in the world, and the only thing left to do was pray for our son. But then our social worker (God bless her pea-pickin' heart for putting up with me), messaged me with lots of exclamation points and finally, finally, we are movin'!  Still hard to tell how quickly we are moving, but we ARE moving! 

Yip! Yip!
Longest three months of my life, ya'll. 

Shew. 

Yeah, I know I know. 
So here we are. Moving. Going. Don't know when or how or whatever, but I will keep you posted! It's coming, I feel it in my gut (though it's entirely possible that what I "feel" is actually the onset of some sort of overdose of phytic acid from all the nuts.)