The title is a little misleading because I don’t have much of an update. What should have taken 2 weeks tops has taken nearly 3 months. Our home study was completed in mid-November and we had hoped that by the end of December (2011) it would have been written up, sent it for revisions and then approved by the State. As of now, the home study hasn’t even been written. The latest I heard is it might get written and turned in this week but I haven’t heard confirmation.
Now, one part of me wants to rage against the machine. I mean, that’s just a really long time when it shouldn’t be a really long time. But the other part of me knows it is divine intervention and this is going just how it ought.
I think about the adoption often but if I think too much, I get really nervous. As in, terrified. What if he hurts my girls? What if we can’t control him? How will I handle 3 kids? Will we be able to bond? The list goes on. So I try not to think too deeply. Honestly, I just turn my attention to the fact that God has led us to it and then a peace comes over me. Simple as that. He’s got it.
Today was one of those days though that I started down that rabbit hole.
On Pinterest, I ran into this list of Mommy/Daughter rules. As I read through the list, I knew I could have written it. Painting nails, putting on makeup, dressing in my clothes, dancing. We’ve got this down. I know how to parent a girl. Well, in general. We’re actually going through a rough season so I don’t have this down. But I understand females in the way I know how to paint toenails and put on lip gloss.
But then I read this list of rules about parenting sons. And ya’ll. I’m clueless. Some of them made sense, of course. There’s not much more I love than watching a mom teach their son how to hold the door open for someone. But many others I had this quizzical look on my face.
Teach him words for how he feels? Do you know how many different words my girls have for how they feel? Lots!
Be a cheerleader for his life? My girls ARE cheerleaders.
Learn how to throw a football? We are in trouble, people.
The thing I know though is this: I didn’t read a manual on how to be a mother of girls. I know I’ll learn. And don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to have a son. A son! But I’m not going to lie. I feel like Jasmine on her carpet flying into a whole. new. world.