At some point in the future, I will write all about this week, and the journey to Tristan, and all of the emotion and the depth. Not today, though, because I'm tired and I've watched a LOT of TV.
See, the thing is, Tristan is a Kansan. He's grafted into Texas, and we receive him, but he was born in Kansas, and we live in Missouri. So there are all these rules about adopting a baby out of state. The sending state and the receiving state have to both sign documents sending and receiving said baby, and it's all Fed-Ex and government offices and so on, and it takes 7-10 days.
During that time, he can't cross the state line. And this might shock you, but you can't leave kids alone. (Sometimes, when I walk outside to check the mail alone, Toby warns me not to get caught by the police) So I am staying in Kansas with Tristan, in a hotel room. At first, I was like WOOO party about a week vacation from the children that I LOVE, but then I sat in a hotel room with a sleeping baby for 2 days and figured out that babies don't do much. So Tristan and I have settled into a routine of eating every few hours, catching a nap and watching excessive amounts of Everybody Loves Raymond and The Cosby Show.
In the evening, the MOG comes to us and tries to take the remote and watch things about the birth habits of eels, or the history of the AK-47, told by Irish fishermen who survived the Titanic.
But about the baby. He is GREAT. He's so sweet and snuggly, and now that he's figured out there's a difference between sleeping on me and sleeping in his playpen, he has decided his playpen is so passe'. So I have been holding him for most of the day and most of the night, and he has been waving his long fingers and making little faces and in general, being heartbreakingly adorable.
Last night he met his siblings. But that is a story for another day, unless there's something good on TV.