Not a bat of a lash!

The first appointment for our girl today went very well. It was a piece of cake, proving that worrying works. The pediatrician was very thorough and kind, helpful in every way. We didn't have any blood drawn or shots given so as far as Primrose is concerned we spent the afternoon in a too-small play room with a killer view meeting strangely touchy-feely people all in matching outfits.

It's a blue unitard type thing. She really isn't half-nekkid, I swear.

To make today's appointment doable, my Mom drove up from Salem an hour away to watch the boys. This meant taking Toby to his piano lesson, which ended up meaning they sat on the freeway for 40 minutes trying to get home when somebody's truck went up in flames during rush hour. My mom's reaction to these inconveniences upon inconveniences was to take the boys out to dinner and give them a Pokemon movie she found earlier in the week. I just hope the boys don't connect car fires with wealths of little boy treasure raining down upon them, or we'll have to research homeschool anti-arson curriculae ASAP.

People have asked how we ended up adopting. We have had a long time to think about that, but never had a good answer until just the past few weeks. "It is just something I have always wanted to do" was the best I had up until now. When I turned a million years old and was still single, I even daydreamed about adopting on my own. Jonathan and I talked about it the day we met. Lately I've been realizing a better, more clear answer: I got this impulse from my parents. They find ways to be family to people. No, that's not quite right: they see the people around them as family. They're the kind of friends who will be there to help in practical ways and who never forget when others are generous with them. They do it easily, without it feeling formal.

I have never felt more like we really live here than now.

The truth is, left to my own devices I just like my people. My little group here, maybe with a few extras from outside life. But it's good to stretch. Primrose is our daughter- she's my people now, and my people are better for it. Getting to her, however, was a stretch. Or it felt like one at the time. Now that she's here it feels like it was the kind of stretch somebody makes to reach a TV remote or the drink menu rather than one that would equal a marathon or something impressive. Last night Isaac said, "Mom, I'm super tired tonight but I'm really glad she's finally here." Words right out of my mouth, kiddo.

Stickers in the bottom of my bag saved our bacon in the waiting room.

We have no less than a page and half of additional medical tests ordered up and ready to go. It's too much to worry over so I'm just putting my head down and stepping forward. Spoiler alert: my Mom's already on board for helping with the boys.