I finally got word last Friday that my adoption agency got my "Federal Database Release Letter" which basically means that I'll be getting a court date set in Vladivostok very soon. And finally, FINALLY, I'll get to go see my amazing baby again and bring her home. Thank God things are starting to move. In case you couldn't tell (yeah, right), I've been wallowing in major depression for the past month or so. This news has provided me with the first positive news on the adoption front in 10 weeks. What a relief.
This past weekend I spent time (and a LOT of money) getting stuff to finish out the nursery and to really prepare for her arrival...diapers, baby food, formula, cereal, baby wipes, a changing pad, umbrella stroller, etc. It's all finished, and now I just have to build the high chair which is actually going to be quite a chore, it appears. I'm not all that great with assembling stuff that requires more than like three steps--and this thing has like a 20 page assembly instruction book with it--so wish me luck.
This week is going to be crazy at work. We've got the opening of our new big-ass flagship store that's been 2 1/2 years in the making. It's amazing. I've got a lot of work to do before and during the opening itself--before and after hours. And I've got a DATE to the big gala tomorrow night. More on that later...
After I got the crib up in the nursery, Earl wouldn't go near the room. He'd sit out in the hall, a good 8 feet away, staring at the door to the room wide-eyed and freaked out. Of course it didn't phase Ellen one bit. Last night, I was watching The Oscars, and during a commercial break I went looking for him. And yes, he was snoozing in the baby bed. I'd say he's made his peace with this new piece of furniture.
Speaking of The Oscars, I love Chris Rock, but he may have been the worst host the Oscars have ever had. And that's saying something. Obnoxious and crass, his style just didn't mesh with the event. And I still haven't decided who my "best dressed" was...maybe Halle Berry...maybe Virginia Madsen. But NOT Barbra Streisand. If I see one more off the shoulder blousy a-line caftan on that woman, I may scream.