Last night James and I went to the Marine Ball. It's a big, formal event that most of the Embassy folk attend each year. We missed it in Baghdad, but I was advised by a good friend (you know who you are Oni) that we should go and I better come prepared with some formal gowns. So I did.
Of course, I wasn't considering the fact that it would be the first time I would have left my baby for more than a 2-3 hour block, and it would be the first time I left my baby with anyone besides James or my mother. OR that I would have just barely found a potential nanny this week and would barely know her before trusting her with my most precious belonging. You know what I mean.
Saturday night rolled around, and with great trepidation I rocked my little girl and tried to get her down for a nap so I could get ready for the event. As I paced her room in the dark I suddenly realized that James and I had not adjusted our will to include the names of who would take care of Cora if we both passed away. I started to panic because I was suddenly certain that tonight would be the night we died. And if you saw the way the Georgians drive around here you would know why. That, and I am clearly mentally unstable. This I hope has been established in past posts.
I paced and I thought, and I thought and I paced. Which sibling would love Cora the most? Who would be willing to take Cora? All are great, but which one would raise her the most like James and I would? Who would have time for her? Oh, and of course, how would she ever make it without us? I started to tear up at the thought of her lonely orphan life and how we should have never come to Georgia where we would die.
There is no conclusion to this, I'm just sharing more crazy. I guess if there is an ending to this climactic tale, it is that James and I did survive, and I never did get around to emailing anyone to tell them they were the future parents of poor little orphan Cora. I guess I'd better decide that soon as we will be doing lots more driving here in the next 2 years.
Of course, I wasn't considering the fact that it would be the first time I would have left my baby for more than a 2-3 hour block, and it would be the first time I left my baby with anyone besides James or my mother. OR that I would have just barely found a potential nanny this week and would barely know her before trusting her with my most precious belonging. You know what I mean.
Saturday night rolled around, and with great trepidation I rocked my little girl and tried to get her down for a nap so I could get ready for the event. As I paced her room in the dark I suddenly realized that James and I had not adjusted our will to include the names of who would take care of Cora if we both passed away. I started to panic because I was suddenly certain that tonight would be the night we died. And if you saw the way the Georgians drive around here you would know why. That, and I am clearly mentally unstable. This I hope has been established in past posts.
I paced and I thought, and I thought and I paced. Which sibling would love Cora the most? Who would be willing to take Cora? All are great, but which one would raise her the most like James and I would? Who would have time for her? Oh, and of course, how would she ever make it without us? I started to tear up at the thought of her lonely orphan life and how we should have never come to Georgia where we would die.
There is no conclusion to this, I'm just sharing more crazy. I guess if there is an ending to this climactic tale, it is that James and I did survive, and I never did get around to emailing anyone to tell them they were the future parents of poor little orphan Cora. I guess I'd better decide that soon as we will be doing lots more driving here in the next 2 years.
What will you ever do when you run out of things to worry about?
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