We Are Sane (Shocked Aren't You?)

That's right everyone, according to my doctor I am sane. Spastic? Yes (if you haven't seen me trip over my own feet for no apparent reason you are missing something funny). Weird? Maybe a little. Obssessive? Sometimes. Hyperactive? Only when I have more than one cup of coffee in a short amount of time (that's another story for another time). But crazy I am not. That's good news when it comes to adoption. Patrick's also normal. I'm using the word normal loosely . . . sorry honey I'm just kidding . . . sort of. No one passed out, and there wasn't a big drama at the doctor's office. So as much as I would love to regale you with stories of people (i.e. Patrick) passing out on the floor or someone just totally not doing their job and messing everything up, it just ain't gonna happen (like how I busted out with the word ain't?). The biggest issue I have is with the doctor's scale. I feel that it weighs ten a few pounds too heavy. At least that's what I like to tell myself. No I didn't just polish off half a box of Hot & Spicy Cheez-Its  . . . those things are addictive . . .


So that's one more thing checked off our list. We are working on finishing the adoption training and workbook. I feel like I'm back in college where I was constantly reading and studying. The problem is, while I read and study I need to eat. Which kind of explains the half empty box of Cheez-Its that someone devoured. I'm blaming Andrew at this point.


Now you'll have to excuse me. I'm going to run 27 miles.