Well, I failed miserably on my No Complaining experiment. At first, I thought it would be a sort of Compact for personal behavior, but really, it left me feeling worse than I did prior to it. I already feel badly enough for being such a crank; why heap even more guilt onto the ever-growing guilt pile? I think if I swallowed all of my frustration, I would spontaneously, although predicatably, combust.
This would NOT be a good thing.
Just like I needed to complain when I was 41 weeks pregnant and counting with very overdue (and large) baby Paloma, I need to complain about my frustration, aggravation and sadness with this entire adoption process. True, I fully expected the process to be difficult, but that doesn't mean that coping with the difficulty is easy at times.
Lately, I feel like there is no end in sight. I recognize that the end is there somewhere. These boys will come home. I just don't know when. And I don't know how many and what types of unforeseeable complications lurk around the corner.
Whining feels good. I would love to kick and scream, but really, that isn't socially acceptable unless you're under the age of 2. So I'm just going to whine, moan, groan, bitch, complain and criticize my way through the rest of this process. I'll catch my breath, and if we're not any closer, I'll just start it all over again.