5.09.2007

It ain't just the paperwork... Part I

The adoption process is often referred to as a paper-pregnancy. When I first heard that, I got the impression that the process was going to be like a long day at the IDOT. If you show up with every piece of paperwork that you think you might need about yourself and your vehicle, and a enough money in the checkbook, then things will go smoothly, it'll just take longer than it should. But actually, it feels more like the dreaded high school bug collection. Getting the first 4 or 5 bugs are easy, but you still need 25 more different insects to complete the assignment. And by the time you get 17-20 bugs, you're skimming your neighbors pool for free in hopes of finding waterbugs or emailing your cousin in Iraq to send you some 8 inch desert spider to put you into A range.

Anyway, so this is me yesterday joining the bug hunt... I mean standing in line at IDOT... I mean helping with the paperwork.

I stayed home from work on Tuesday and so Chris gave me a honeydo list. Fine. It was verbally dictated to me at 6:30 in the morning. Which if you know me, you know that's when I process information the best, so it'll come as no surprise to you that when I got out of bed 3 hours later, I promptly went into the basement to play video games for the rest of the morning. Normally, this is how I help with the paperwork...

So a little after 11:30 Chris calls to make sure I'm awake. (Um, yeah, the Demolition Derby isn't going so smash itself...) and says to me, "Scratch everything else I asked you to do. I need you to get our TB test results to the clinic." This is exactly what I wanted to hear on my day off. I've officially been given permission to disregard everything I've already forgotten AND I just have to get 2 pieces of paper to the clinic. Not a problem. "Oh and call the notory and ask her to set up a time to notorize the tests and our physicals." 2 pieces of paper and a phone call, got it. "Oh and I think the clinic closes from noon to 1 for lunch." 2 pieces of paper, a phone call, and now I've got less than 15 minutes. So I hang up the phone and immediately call our friendly neighborhood notary while rooting around for semi-appropriate clothing. Turns out she was more than happy to swing by the clinic with her stamper after a 12 o'clock meeting. So far so good. I reach for our TB test results and realize that they are under our passports. Passports... hmm... it trickles into my mind that getting photocopies of our passports was one of the things on the original list. Which means, if I get that taken care of, I now get extra credit for remembering something I was allowed to forget. So I reach for my car keys and next to them there's an envelope full of financial stuff that was supposed to get mailed 2 months ago. (Note that this was also no longer on the list, and therefore bonus spouse points) So I grab the passports, the mail, my cellphone, and 2 pieces of paper, and head out the door. I get to the car, and there's a DVD to return sitting shotgun, as yet another blatant attempt at a self-reminder. So me, the DVD, the passports, the mail, the cellphone, and 2 pieces of paper go tearing off to the clinic. We get there at 11:57 on fumes.

The nurses were none too happy to help me with my paperwork on their lunch break, but all facts considering, didn't give me too much of a hassle about it. They took our TB test results and gave me a copy. I told them the notary would be swinging by early this afternoon to stamp our stuff. "The doctor has patients this afternoon, she'll need to make an appointment," was the response I got. Now you may note that those were indeed my wife's exact directions. I was just a little busy bouncing around in one sandal to relay that to the Notary when I had her on the phone.

So I run back to the car and leave a message for the Notary saying, "Call the clinic before driving out. You need an appointment." I hang up and leave it in God and Verizon's hands. If you've ever stuck a pin through a bug, only to watch it start moving again... you know how I felt at that moment.

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