eight days

We got the email.

We're expected in court in Uganda on the afternoon of October 15.

I found out while checking my email at 2:30 in the morning after Robbie woke up for some more pain medicine. (This tonsil and adenoid removal deal is no joke, but he's much better now. We've stepped down to just over the counter pain meds, but we're prepared to step it back up if he hits a rough patch this weekend.) And, of course, the adrenaline surge after reading that email means I didn't go back to bed.

And we're out of coffee. I see a trip to the store in my near future.

Flights? Booked.

Bags? Mostly packed, with the exception of Lee's clothes. (He's the only one who isn't a clothes hoarder, so I can't pack him too far in advance. Me and the kids, though? We can survive just fine without the seven-ish outfits we'll each have.)

Heart? A lot excited, with a side of manic panic.

Y'all.

We're getting on a plane to go to Uganda in EIGHT DAYS.

Thank you, Jesus.

Now that "coming soon" sign seems a lot more real!