I got nothing today people.  Things are quiet here this weekend.  We haven’t done anything exciting – moved around the bedroom furniture and made a trip to Sam’s Club where I got these pretty posies 50% off because they weren’t ‘fresh’.

Fresh flowers in the house always make me smile.

We have paint swatches taped to the wall in Sabrina’s room.  We are trying to decide which to use.  Okay, I am trying to decide.  Steve has his mind set on one and I’m on the fence but mostly leaning toward the other.  Perhaps I will have him scan the colors and post them here and you can all help us decide.

Earlier in the week, I told you all about our Target fun last weekend. There were just a couple of things we didn’t get in our big haul. Bibs and burp cloths were the 2 glaring omissions. So I turned to my old standby: Ebay. I found very practical and inexpensive options. But then I went looking for cute. Leave it to me to splurge on things that will be puked and drooled on (oh what, that’s everything isn’t it?)

But tell me these aren’t awesome burp cloths:

and burp cloths for daddy to proudly use:

And girlie bibs:

I need to learn how to sew. First time moms will buy anything. I’m proof. And I did it with a smile.

I’m away at a conference.  I am pathetic – I hate being away from Steve overnight.  I’m also getting old.  Part of me wanted to go out partying with people from the conference because I don’t get out much.  The other part of me was thinking what a good night sleep I could get and how unappealing a loud bar sounded.  Guess which part of me won? (Hint, I’m here typing this entry.)

My conference today was thrilling.  My day concluded with a panel discussion.  The panel consisted of 10 Very Important and Very Smart People.  I’m not particularly passionate about Balanced and Restorative Justice (it’s a juvenile justice conference) so my eyes glazed over after 10 minutes.

Minute 18: the diet coke I quickly guzzled during the break was demanding to be released (couldn’t get out without causing a ruckus)
Minute 29: wishing I had picked up a cookie during the break

Minute 37: picking individual dog hairs and pieces of lint off my black pantsuit

Minute 51: examining nails in need of filing and hang nails in need of chewing

Minute 69: join in the spontaneous applause, hoping it means we are ending early.  Sadly, no, someone apparently said something brilliant.

Minute 75: admiring comb over of the gentleman in front of me…wondering how long it takes to train hair to stay in the exact configuration

Minute 81:  Ohhh, shiny…noticing how pretty my ring looks under the lights in the room

Minute 86: thinking I can take the scrawny goatee guy and steal his Starbucks…then bladder reminds me there is no room at the inn

Minute 93: contemplate bludgeoning the pen clicking woman with my complimentary conference tote bag

Minute 108: screaming inside my head  “Please. Stop. Talking.”

Minute 110: More applause.  Are we done?  Must. Pee.

More Blogland love in my mailbox today!  That is something this adoption process has returned to me…the joy of getting the mail.  When I was young, I loved getting the mail.  In recent years, it isn’t so fun.  It’s always bills or junk.  People don’t send snail mail that often because email is so much easier.   Instant communication always wins out over a card that might take 5 days to arrive.  I would go days without getting the mail because there was nothing fun or particularly important in there.  But with the adoption, I’m back to anticipating the mail again.  First it was waiting for documents to be returned to me.  Then it was waiting for our 171H.  Now, I get Blogland love delivered to my mail box!  I won’t out the stranger-friend who sent this because I’m not sure if it was a group gift and if it was meant to be anon…but thank you!  It is also an inside joke that only 6 women will understand.  It made me laugh!  But the envelope made me laugh almost as much as the contents so I took a picture of that as well:

An on-line group of adopting friends were sharing photos of babies and themselves yesterday.  I have a couple of photos of Steve and I that I keep on my laptop so I went to my photos file.  I ended up posting this one (yes my secondary motive here is to silence those questioning what the chick behind the snark looks like):

The thing that prompted the title of this post is that I looked at a couple of photos before choosing that one.  And I realized (yes, it took me 34 years to realize) that I have big man-ish catepillar eyebrows.  The above photo was the one that looked least like “Hey look at my eyebrows!”  I’m not one for high maintenance girlie stuff.  I don’t pluck my eyebrows because 1. it takes too long and 2. it freaking hurts!  But yesterday for some reason I got all self-conscious about my eyebrows – trust me I have many more things I should be self-conscious about.  That photo is pre-ttc and adoption weight gain.  So last night, for the first time, I tweezed my eyebrows.  Just a little bit.  (I keep remembering my sister who went straight from doing nothing with hers to waxing them herself.  She looked perpetually surprised for a few weeks.)  It hurt like a mother.  But now I find myself starring in the mirror and trying to decide if I should tweeze more.  But then I remember that 1. it hurts and 2. it grows back and will require maintenance.  Men don’t worry about their eyebrows.  Their eyebrows can become part of their comb-over and they just go about their day.  Sometimes it sucks being a girl.