Movement(s)

There have been some movement(s) in the Phillips’ house in the past week.

Primarily, we had some progression in our home study.  We had our home visit last week.  This week we have three more interviews.  Tomorrow, I get to “dig deep” into the traumas of my formative years.  Sloan “digs deep” Friday morning, and then we get to discuss our marriage in depth Friday noon.

So that should be fun.  

Pray for me.  I understand the whys as to why our case worker wants to discuss it, but I’m so over it that I'm afraid I’ll be blasé about it.  Or that I’ll spend two hours bubble snot crying.  I sent our case worker several blog posts (like this one and this one) that I’ve written about the issue in hopes to head her off at the pass, so to speak. 

Secondly, we’ve had some progression in the potty training of Gracie.  We decided to sort of half-heart it for now until Spring Break so that I’m not constantly washing the car seat.  We want to just put her in panties and not look back.  But Gracie did not get this memo.

It was the afternoon before our home visit.  I has spent the day furiously straightening, dusting, mopping, and vacuuming—regretting not getting our cleaning lady to come on her off week.   

I was walking in the living room when…squish.  I had stepped in a heaping pile of warm poo.  In my house.  You know, in my pet free house.  Then there was a brown blur running the lap that is our kitchen, living and dining rooms chanting, “Stinky poopy!  I naked and I stinky poopy!  POOPY!”

I was dumbfounded.  I didn’t really know what to do.  I was not prepared to deal with human excrement on my living room hardwoods and then pittered pattered poopy footprints across my sisal rug.  Also, let it also be known that my FitFlops are heretofore labeled my “$h!tFlops”.  Had they not been black patent leather and the only flops I can wear with my plantar fasciitis, they would’ve heretofore been called trash.

The next day, about 5 minutes after our case worker left our house, Gracie pooped on the kitchen floor. 

Awesome. 

Dear Jesus, Thank you for the movement in our adoption of Charlie.  As to the movements with Gracie, that’s not really the kinda movement we need right now. Or ever, really. Amen.