My Father's Christmas (dedicated to my brothers...)

That was the name of my tournament-winning poetry piece in high school....my brothers still mock me with it. It was extremely manipulative (you get better scores if you can make people cry) and sappy, about a woman whose father dies on Christmas Eve, and how she misses her chance to tell him that she loved him.....but I've been thinking about one of the lines this week as reality hits about how quickly the adoption has become a reality....

"We kind of expected it to happen, just not on Christmas Eve. No. That's a lie. Even though you expect something to happen, it never really hits you until it does."

Yes, we've been planning on this adoption for almost a year and a half. We've been dreaming and praying and planning....but it was hard even to set clothes aside for Peanut without knowing how old she'd be, and we didn't feel like we could pick out a name without knowing her given name and situation.....so now that we have just 2 months until she comes home, it's finally hitting me.

And we have alot to do.

And I can't wait to get my arms around her (and hopefully not freak her out!).