J- What are you thinking?
M- What if we get her?
What if we don't get her?
Tonight I was totally blubbering watching Hotel Rwanda. I know it's an emotionally challenging movie (and an excellent one, at that) but it still felt out of character. My slow morph into my own violence-intolerant mother is taking over my mind, yes, but still, I am not a weepy woman. I distinctly remember giving J crap for tearing up at a movie when we were dating. I regularly laugh out loud when Toby pulls out his yelling-late-afternoon-bored cry after being bumped on the head with a feather or somesuch.
This whole picture-show motivated loss of emotional control tells me I can bet the next few months might be in crystal-intense focus for me. You know how photographers use a soft filter to make life look nicer? There won't be any of that.
People cheezily refer to the adoption process as a paper pregnancy. That kind of word goofery generally annoys me, but I have to say the weepy moodiness aspect is similar for the first day anyway.