Steven got to walk Meazi to school in the morning.
Our social worker came after naptime. It seems that we are doing okay, and that we are allowed to keep the children... for now. (I am kind of joking here, but I have to admit that I kind of feel that way. When do you stop feeling like someone can take your adopted children away from you?)
The night before had been a bit rough. Melese woke up four times in the middle of the night, Teddy had to be let out to pee, and I heard Moses puking in the kids room. I bolted from the bed in an effort to get him outside before he puked on the rug. I ushered him out, and then tried in vain to locate the mess. It was 1:00 am, I was groggy and I couldn't find it. I finally gave up and went to bed. The next morning I spent a very long time looking for dog puke. I was just picturing our social worker saying, "Excuse me, what is this substance in the children's room?" That coupled with Mel's fat lip from a clumsy tumble, and a mysterious welt under Meazi's eye from bumping into my camera lens, made me a bit anxious about the visit. Steven assured me that Moses had eaten his own puke, and that everything would be fine.It was.
We celebrated with Chinese food...
We were having a lovely time. Meazi had us in stitches. Melese feel asleep early. It was giggles and laughs until Meazi opened the fortune cookie that was obviously meant for me....
This made me burst into tears. Meazi looked worried, and once again I explained to her how sometimes mommy cries because she is so very, very, happy.
