OK, so I’m the husband. Corey decided it was time to switch it up a bit. She thought perhaps you guys could use a break from her. I can also attest that sometimes the days here in St. Pete are tough enough to get through without having to rehash every detail after finally returning to the hotel . . . so she gets a break as well. I am certain I will leave out some details that you guys are used to; I am equally certain that this will be brought to my attention as soon as Corey proofreads it. Hey, what can I say, I paint with broader brushstrokes. If you come here seeking what time we woke up, how long Corey was in the shower, or how many steps we took to get to the Metro, you may want to come back tomorrow. OK, now that I’ve lowered your expectations, let’s continue. I’ll share a few thoughts about Russia in general and then I’ll get to our morning visit with Emma . . . it was a doozie.
Russia and specifically St. Petersburg drums up thoughts of history going back hundreds of years. The Hermitage. Leningrad. St. Isaac’s Cathedral. Church on the Spilled Blood. Peter the Great. Kazan Cathedral and on and on. This city has more historical statues, buildings, and bridges than there are fish in the sea. The city has changed immensely in the last 25 years with the fall of Communism. Obviously I only know the St. Petersburg of today and it is very much like any other cultural city in Europe. Europeans have different tastes when it comes to food, fashion, music, and what is socially acceptable. Like any good American, I believe that my tastes are right and true and I tend to make fun of what doesn’t fit those tastes. Like, what's up with the “skinny jeans”? Do I really need to see every little detail from the hips to the ankles? Listen, I have skinny legs too. Between you and me, I could certainly rock a pair of skinny jeans if I chose to, but why put anyone else thru that? Speaking of jeans, what’s up with all the denim? Purses, jeans, shirts, jackets, black, blue, bedazzled. My favorite denim may actually be white denim . . . lotta white up in here, particularly shoes. I know, it’s well past Labor Day and any good North Carolinian knows you just don’t wear white shoes past that first Monday in September. I’d really like these folks to respect my personal space a bit more. I mean, when I can tell you haven’t showered in a few days, that’s one thing. When I can tell you had borsht, potato pancakes, and 3 vodkatinis for lunch, you are officially too close to me. Not a big fan of the music here . . . why does every song have a pan flute solo in it? Lotta “Zamfir- Master of the Pan Flute” fans up in here. Listen, I’m no fashion guru, I’m not a food or music critic, and most importantly I’ve got my faults just like anybody else. OK, enough of that . . . let’s get you the information you came here for in the first place.
Its official, the beast has awoken.
In fact she was a totally different child by the end of the visit today. The only thing that was the same was her dress . . . Corey and I now refer to it as her “uniform”. For those of you with children, you know that moment when your child overcomes the shyness in a particular environment and begins to warm up a bit and then takes it one step further and becomes a wild child? Well, Emma got there today. Typically, our visits begin with a whimper or 2 followed by several minutes of Corey holding her. She eventually warms up enough to play a bit, but she never gets too far from Corey and certainly doesn’t feel comfortable enough to really be herself. Today started that same way, except by the end she was totally out of control. She was wild. . .jumping all over the furniture, flopping around on the floor, running up and down the hall. I experienced a combination of happiness, fear, and uncertainty in that one moment. I was happy that she finally got comfortable enough around us to really let her hair down. It was great to see her in action. The fear and uncertainty came in when we realized that we’ve got some work ahead of us. The quiet, shy, smiling angel turned into a sassy, belligerent, rowdy ball of energy. Like I said it was fantastic and surprising at the same time. As I sit here in Pizza Hut, I am wondering what the afternoon visit will hold in store for us. Typically she takes a while to come around because she’s fresh off a nap and it takes a few minutes to get her motor going. We are really hoping that this will be her last night in the orphanage. We will hopefully find out today that her passport will be ready for pickup tomorrow in which case we will finally have her in our possession as we make our way to Moscow.
On a personal note, I’d like to thank all of you that follow this blog. I really think this is something that has become quite therapeutic for us. It is wonderful to feel some support and to know that folks back home are pulling for you. I’m not sure I’ll be back as a guest blogger; Corey will probably be concerned I offended some with my comments. Please know that everything I’ve stated was with tongue firmly implanted in cheek. OK, I’m outta here, I gotta track down some ice for my drink.
Edited to add: Well, we got the news on the passport before Corey updated the blog so I thought I would go ahead and add the information. Emma’s passport will not be available until Saturday morning which ultimately means that there is no way we are making our flight on Tuesday. The paperwork in Moscow will apparently require 2 business days which for us will be Monday and Tuesday. We are hoping to get some official word before we go through the hassle of changing our flights. This entire journey has been filled with incredible highs and lows. I feel like the lows have outnumbered the highs up until now, but at the same time I realize we have her whole life to fill with highs.
A big special thanks to B and Jack, Mimi, Patsy and Pop, Keeper, my great team at my office and my partner Dr. Phillips . . . you all are bearing the brunt of us being away and you are loved because of it.
Emma enjoying her first Vanilla Wafer
