Git-r-done

The princess has her bottle. Not a bad life, not any more!

Thomas Edison once said "Hell, there are no rules here - we're trying to accomplish something." I don't think old Tom ever adopted a little girl from China. To accomplish this there are lots of rules to contend with. They come at you from two countries! Today we had the joy of working with both governments. If you are ever so inclined to do this be sure to pack some extra patience and sense of humor....you're gonna need it. Remember it's all about turning these little, forgotten girls into the princesses they deserve to be.
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We started the day getting Visa photos for the US Consulate, apparently the photos we took for the Chinese government 4 days ago are not good enough. Then a few blocks over for the agency's traditional group photo by the waterfall. Here is a line up of the usual suspects. baby number three, step forward and say, "ma ma". Baby number six turn to the right. Baby number five did it .....she's the one that flung eggs at me..... arrest her! (no, we didn't pay extra for the best looking baby...but thanks for asking)
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Anyway, on from there to the medical center for the babies' check-ups for the exit paperwork. This place is packed like Penn Station at Friday, 5pm before a holiday weekend. We have three doctors to visit, families from other agencies are pouring into the exam area. I'm not sure these docs would notice someone trying to adopt a cadaver but it's their world and I'm just a squirrel trying to get a nut!. Never having found I line I wouldn't circumnavigate (hey Mom, see the $500 you spent on my SAT prep class didn't go to waste.) I see Dawn and Livvie on one line and I jump in line at another station. Nice move we are out in only 40 minutes or so.
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Later we gather in the hotel conference room, sans babies... well at least ones under 3 ft tall, to work on a stack of US government forms. One form is actually several editions old and it has two questions labeled #25, how do you update a form several times and not see that?...... But dammit you know they will kick the form out if the date isn't formatted right. Which, by-the-way, asks for the date to be formatted five different ways throughout this stack of US Gov't issued forms....I kid you not, I counted. I didn't know there were that many ways to format a date....OK so I use Excel, I knew there were that many ways, but you get my point, I'm on a tear here don't slow me down.
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If I have to write my address one more time I'm going to snap, jump up on a desk and scribble it on some poor bureaucrats forehead with a Sharpie. Oohh and the questions from the peanut gallery...what's a surname? What does it mean when they ask where were you married? Do they want my street address? It says put your phone number, should I put my phone number too? AARRGH the vein in my forehead begins to throb, my head aches. I love my daughter, I love my daughter, I love my daughter I chant to myself... I calm down, then I hear, "I don't know my hotel room number" ( a question asked a few times on the forms). My eye is now twitching, every fiber of my being wants to scream at the top of my lungs, "I DIDN'T SEE YOU SLEEPING IN THE HALLWAY! SO HOW ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH DO YOU MANAGE TO FIND YOUR BED EVERY NIGHT? YOU TWIT!!" (OK, I wasn't really thinking "twit" but I'm trying to keep it PG rated here)Where is that Buddhist monk when I need him or a nice morphine drip?
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Two hours later, broken and weary I stumble back to my room, because, you see, even in my eye twitching, vein throbbing, weakened state... I REMEMBER MY STINKIN' ROOM NUMBER!! Now I have 30 minutes to get ready for a group dinner, my eye begins to twitch again at the very thought.

Thanks for listening.......I feel much better now. ...see you tomorrow.
Honey, where did you pack the heavy narcotics?