|Ft. Worth sculpture. It's either giraffes making out or a Martian with big boobs. I can't decide.|
Helloooooo from Ft. Worth, Texas, also known as Cow Town, which is a rather undesirable urban nickname if you ask me. For the second time in three weeks Walker and I just stumbled bleary eyed into a hotel lobby after a very very long road trip. And by bleary eyed I mean it's 12:33am and by just I mean just one hot shower ago. But the shower here at my Priceline bargain Courtyard Marriott had Paul Mitchell shampoo, which makes me happy, because Paul Mitchell products are the smell of high school in 1980s America. If only it were awapuhi, my hot shower would have magically converted into a time machine and I would have shaved half my hair and rocked out to some Tears for Fears. And actually that's what we did on the way up here, listened to my husband's 80s music. (He didn't shave his head though. Because bless him he doesn't have much hair to spare.) Tears for Fears being the sound of 1980s high school, along with the clunk of a goodly portion of my GapKids paycheck being laid down on the counter of Visible Changes in order to purchase my very expensive Paul Mitchell Awapuhi Shampoo.
Oh, don't break my heart don't break my heart don't don't don't don't throw it away.
I had a point and it was to tell you that we are here in Ft. Worth to attend a training at Gladney on attachment with older child adoption. Which should be great. And I'm glad my husband is here because while I have spent the past three years reading all kinds of books on adoption and attending conferences on adoption and watching Karyn Purvis videos on adoption, Walker, in typical husband/dad fashion, you know, hasn't.
He's been too busy watching Tears for Fears videos. That's okay, we'll be here 9 to 5, Thursday and Friday. Muhahahahaha.
So why the late night ramble fest, Missy Jo?
Because I just wanted to pop in here at 12:49am from Cow Town to tell you that we got our court date!!
We've been summoned to appear in Addis Ababa on November 30. And if all goes as planned, and we pass court, and she is officially ours, that means that this here blog will immediately be PLASTERED with photographs of a little Ethioptexan named Bethlehem Dollahon.
I mean, if you want to see her, that is??
The timing really is great. Court dates are being handled out at a ridiculous rate of speed with some people only getting one week's notice. I'm serious. Good morning, have some coffee, you have three days to get your butt on a plane to Ethiopia. I mean y'all it takes me three days to plan a trip to Costco. The nervous breakdown I'd have might not bode well before the judge.
Then I was also worried that our date would come during Thanksgiving, and we always spend Thanksgiving at the beach with my mom and I didn't want the kids to miss that. But I didn't want to go in December because December is busy enough without African trips midway though.The week after Thanksgiving but before December really hits? Aka, Take a Breather and Buy Your Christmas Tree Week? Yes please.
But, it means that I will be on the verge of implosion next week because I'll be packing six humans for the beach and four humans for Ethiopia at the same time. Plus rounding up some donations to take over to No Ordinary Love. If you don't hear from me for a couple of days, please send prayers. And a massage therapist. SEND A PRAYING MASSAGE THERAPIST PLEASE.
It's 1:01am, oh my sweet sleepy skull in Cow Town. Good night.
I leave you with a gift: