I Don’t Even Care That You’re All Gonna Throw This Happy Feeling In My Face In Two Months When I Am Crying About Not Sleeping In Eight Days And Being Covered In Poo.

First thing is first, and holy shit. Holy. Shit. My heart, guys. My cold, black, cranky little heart grew three sizes this week. In just a week, $4065 crisp, green dollars have been raised to bring Jack home from China. That is amazing. There are not enough thanks to express how much it means that so many people have given their hard earned cash to bring this little guy home to his family and to doctors that will improve his life immeasurably.





There is still a little bit of work to be done, and I have every bit of confidence that the remaining $1435 can be raised within the next week. You hookers have given me hope! So please, continue to share..



My previous blog post


Jocelyn’s blog


Jocelyn’s video



And donate, donate, DONATE! 



This is you when you think about how happy donating your monies makes you feel.



Second thing is second. I am so pumped today, dudes. No ugly crying here. I am high off my ass on life right now. Tripping balls on life. As I type this, there is a very chatty and happy man, cleaning all the carpets in my house. I hate the carpets in this place. Hate. So getting them cleaned and prettied before the baby comes and poops all over them is giving me a disinfectant boner right now. Here you me, I am going to roll around on those beauties like they’re piles of money as soon as he leaves.



That duck is me. That money is my carpet.



The carpet cleaning is an important part of the final stages of Operation: Bring the Baby Home to More Than a Spot to Sleep In My Dresser Drawer. Trying to get this place ready for an infant, and situated in such a way that I can maintain maybe a shred of sanity while taking care of an infant, has been balls. Total balls. Every day shines more of the *cough*HOARDER*cough* light on my life. I just sent my eight-year old prom dress to Goodwill. And my sister’s seven-year old homecoming dress. How did I even come into possession of that thing? No clue. But my new favorite feeling is filling a contractor bag with trash and filling bags/boxes with stuff that we do not need, and getting it out of the house.



My grandparents and my mom came over yesterday, and they are the ultimate rockstars of my life right now. My Mimi has a PhD in Getting Shit Done. So I waddled around, doing what I can with a 35-week old human in my belly, and my Granddad painted the nursery closet and hung the new clothing racks. While he did this, my mom and Dr. Mimi, PhD, cleaned and organized the laundry room. Holy freaking eff. I have done laundry maybe a handful of times in my own home, because I hate that room so much. All of the much. Adam has been the laundry dude in this house. But today, I sorted laundry and started washing baby clothes because I can move around in the laundry room and I don’t feel like an army of spiders is going to jump out and bite my face off. It rules. And a huge weight is off of me. I can do stuff!



The hills are alive with the sound of my washer and dryer.



I honestly feel like, if this kid comes early, I will be alright. We are not 100% there yet, but we are so much closer than we have ever been to being ready. The nursery will get set up this week. I’m doing a little bit of work in our room and I’m doing a little more organizing in the kitchen. And that’s it. We are just a hair over a month out from my due date, and I don’t feel anywhere near as anxious and freaked out about it as I did even a few days ago. There is finally a place for all the shit, and almost all the shit is in its place.



So come on out, tiny human. I am ready for your spit up and your burps and your weird poop and your pee fountain and your bitchy attitude at 4am. Adam and I had our Infant Care Workshop, where we learned how to handle butt explosions and sonic-level crying and the baby trying to claw his own eyes out for fun. We are ready. We are prepared. We shall triumph.



This is us.

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