Twenty-Two and a Half

That's how many hours we have until we all bear the same last name.

We're not counting days anymore, people. We're counting hours.

Hand-picked animal charm necklaces.

I spent four days panicking last week because I couldn't find the camera (I found it, by the way), and all I could think was we wouldn't have our own camera to document the most important day in our family's history.

I had very strange dreams involving Billy Ray Cyrus, a decidedly not-Miley Cyrus daughter, a Disney-fied version of the adoption hearing (complete with lines), and a 13-year-old or so Spencer Breslin as my makeup artist because, I was told, the hearing (despite it being closed) was going to be filmed and televised and I needed stage makeup as a result.

We bought new dresses for the girls, just for the occasion.

We bought them new necklaces.

We bought them really nice new necklaces.

Living Locket necklaces.

Mom and I wrote up text for our own adoption books, and Mom digitally scrapped them and had them made through Snapfish.

Jester and Mitzy took tomorrow off work as soon as I found out it was the date of the hearing, just to make sure they could be there.

And last night, my mother-in-law showed up unannounced, so that she could be here for the hearing, too. We were delighted that she decided to come. (I genuinely love having her come to visit, so I don't care that I didn't know she was coming.)

And in less than a day, we will be a legally-acknowledged family, for real. We've been a real family all along. This is, really, merely a formality to what we've been for nearly seven years now.

My heart is so full that I don't know what to do with myself.