This is for real now...

I just sealed the Priority Mail envelope to send off my preliminary application to Little Miracles International (LMI) in Amarillo, Texas. Yes, the process has now officially begun.

After days of scrutinizing my written application, it turns out that I did, indeed, spell the word "May" correctly, along with my name and other crucial information. As I write this post to confirm that the application will be in the mail within the next hour or so, my stomach is full of butterflies. I'm thrilled, nervous, overwhelmed, scared, and completely sure of myself, all at the same time.

The support of my friends and family continues to be overwhelming. People are coming out of the woodwork to help me with my fundraising, which is going much more quickly than I ever anticipated. And everyone is so excited. My father called me a couple of weekends ago to inform me that my mother is "nesting". As the concept of the adoption process became more of a reality than an intention, Mom infamously whipped out her Glass Plus and "hit it". Closets were reorganized, furniture moved for dusting... you'd think she was pregnant. I mean Jeez, I'm not even pregnant!!! HAHAHA! But it's very cute and I'm excited to see someone who has these happy jitters the same way I do. In Swedish we call this "pirrigt", like the word "fluttery" or something similar. It's the only word I can think of to explain this.

I've now picked out a crib, a high chair, play pen (which is apparently now called a play "yard"), and a car seat, although the verdict is still out on the stroller. I've also decided to get a Pack and Play to take with me to Kazakhstan during the second trip when I go to bring the baby home, so as to avoid having to get "creative" with baby bedding solutions at the hotel.

This weekend I went to my friends' house to watch the Patriots win their way to the Superbowl. Ok, so I am not a super sporty person, but there was yummy food and a baby there. The baby is almost seven months old and is named Spencer. He is an incredibly chill and happy baby. And we go way back - 7 months back, in fact! Now I am sure that Spencer is as tolerant with everyone else as he is with me, but I like to think we have a special connection ;-) So every time he comes to the office, I promptly scoop him up and escape into my own little LaLa Land of "gerplop" noises and crooked mouth faces. He very graciously giggles with glee and furiously shakes his head "no" which is a game I love to play with him. Anyway, the point is that I got to feed Spencer this weekend, which I loved and am quite good at. Spencer is a notoriously good eater and was chugging down the milk like it was nobody's business. Good boy.

And then, out of nowhere, he puked all over the place. It was fabulous. On me, on him, on his Patriots sweatshirt (no worries, there was a backup one too). It occurred to me that this was the second time in the past couple of weeks that Spencer has projectile vomited on me. And it hasn't bothered me in the slightest. So there is the point of the story. I'm amazed I don't mind getting puked on by someone else's kid.

And so, as I sit and smile at the thought of baby vomit, I will send off my application. This feels good because I am not thinking about those cute little hats with the double knots on top, or the smell of a baby, or even the blissful sleeping baby who sleeps 12 hours a night (yeah right)... I am, in fact, sending this with a smile on my face while thinking of baby vomit. I really must want to be a mom!!!

Oh yeah, Go Pats!