Disappointing the Masses One Decision at a Time

There are days I wonder why I even bother.

On Saturday evening we loaded the puppies up in the car and proceeded on our way to my sister's house where we were meeting up with them and my folks to celebrate my brother-in-law's birthday. When we get in the car, Meg always hops out of the backseat and into my lap (and yes, I know they should be seat belted in or in a crate - for long trips we do this, but generally don't bother for short ones.) She did this as normal and then, as we approached the stop sign at the end of our seat I remarked to Tim that I didn't understand why she was quaking. And then we heard the beeping. We had forgotten to take the batteries out of their collars so the fence was letting them know that they had exceeded their boundaries. Tim threw the car in park and worked to pull of Meg's collar while he pulled off Cassi's. And we spent the rest of the evening feeling like insanely bad parents.

This little event caused a discussion with someone about fences and our yard and how, ultimately, they're incompatible (our yard is very odd) so we're stuck with the wireless fence. She chanced to say that when we had kids we would have to have a fence. I stated that I didn't think we were ever going to have them, which then launched a barrage of how if we were really willing to adopt we could have kids, and how the fact that we want an infant who isn't African American or bi-racial and the fact that at present we're not pursuing international adoption is closing ourselves off to God's will and so on and if we really wanted children we could have them within 9 months if we would just be open. This particular person has said similar things before and though she's apologized - both then and again today - I have to believe that at the heart of the matter, they're how she feels since they come up whenever I happen to mention any kind of frustration with the sloth-like speed of adoption. And I realize that no amount of saying that Tim and I prayed about the direction we'd take with adoption - up to and including issues of race - and that we both agree that the decisions we made are the ones that we felt led to make is going to matter. To her or to me. As it stands, I feel like I'm a colossal disappointment to the world. Not only because I'm infertile - which is enough of a colossal disappointment as I can't even do what basic biology says I should be able to do and thus leaves me feeling like a useless lump of broken body parts. But apparently I can't even try to adopt right.

In another conversation, this time with my mom, she asked how church was on Sunday (which I had left out of my retelling of what Tim and I did yesterday) and I said that we didn't go. At which point I got the long pause of rampant disapproval, followed by the "That's two weeks in a row, isn't it?" And while I appreciate the concern for my spiritual well being, I really do, we're still struggling with whether or not we're changing churches. I don't want to go back to our current church. Ever. As it would run the risk of running into the person that everyone thinks is sweet and nice but who is the biggest, backstabbingest example of humanity I've ever run into. And if I never see or have to try and make polite conversation with her again it'll be too soon. Yes, I need to forgive her. It'd be a heck of a lot easier if she'd admit to some wrongdoing, but I know that isn't required. And I'm working on forgiving her. It's just not going well.

Throw in, just for a little added excitement, the fact that I left a comment that I thought was funny on a post of a Eric's, but then another commenter made a comment about it and then Eric commented on it (though he made a smiley face at the end, so maybe he understood the humor, though I don't think the first commenter did) and I feel like emailing to ask if he understands I was trying to be funny but it's just...well...maybe I ought to just do the world a favor by staying at home and not interacting in polite society.

All told, it's been, in the words of Anne, a Jonah day. I think I'll move to Australia.