Happy 2nd Family Day, Matty!

Wow! Hard to believe it’s been two years since we officially became Matty’s parents. It truly does seem like a lifetime ago, and yet the memories of that first meeting are just as clear as they were on that day. December 9th was one of the most incredible days of my life (the other was the day we met Molley). It was full of amazement – seeing my baby for the first time – and pain – just beginning to realize what his life had been like for the past nine plus months.

He was truly adorable, even covered in scabies and boils and scratches. His little body was a blob and he was scared out of his mind. He was sooo quiet at first.  He just stared at us. It didn’t last. I really did adore him the minute I met him. It took us a long time to get to know each other and attach to each other, but I loved the kid more than anything the minute I saw him.

Mattix has come so, so far in two years. It’s almost mind boggling. About one year and eleven months ago, I was worried. Really worried. Now we have a happy regular old two – getting way too close to three for my comfort – year old boy who loves trains, firetrucks, M!ckey M0use, and P0lar Express.

Ed was out of town until really late last night, so to celebrate the day we met (December 9th), I took Mattix and Molley out for pho, which is and always has been Matty’s favorite food. My Bug eats like a bird on a daily basis, but put a bowl of pho in front of him and he eats like a little piggy. He ate half of a large bowl yesterday, then ate the other half for dinner. He also ate his first spring roll, which he drowned in peanut sauce. Love it! Because it was a special day, I gave him a few sips of my iced Vietnamese coffee, which he really liked. Oops. Molley, who acts as though all Vietnamese food is laced with rat poison, ate half a plate of chicken fried rice. I found the trick! Don’t really feed her breakfast…if she gets hungry enough, apparently she’ll stop being a pain. You think I’m kidding…I’m not. (Molley has some control issues with food that we also need to work on, so there’s more to it than just being finicky.) The three of us had a really nice lunch together.

I know my baby’s growing up because of how he behaved today when we visited a preschool. If you’re on Faceb00k, you know about the fun times and awesome conversations I’ve been having with preschool directors (raise your hand if you think Australian is a “race other than Caucasian!”). Anyway, we visited one that I thought might be okay and Bug LOVED it. We were there for about 45 minutes talking with the director, the teachers, and observing. When it was time to go, Mattix burst into tears. He didn’t throw a fit at all. He totally let Ed pick him up and carry him out…he just sobbed his eyes out. It was as though he was heartbroken. He cried for half an hour once we were home, too, even though we repeatedly explained to him that he was going to begin going to school there next month. So, the good news is that I think he’s going to love school. Hell, I’d love it. They get to pain, eat snacks, ride trikes, color, play dress up, sing, etc. Sounds like a good gig to me!

Tonight, we’re once again going out for pho as a family because Ed’s home. Mattix won’t be disappointed! We’re also going to give him one of the gifts we bought in Vietnam. Ed suggested a neat wooden motorcycle because he’s really into those right now.

I feel blessed beyond words to be Mattix’s mom. I feel equally blessed that Mattix put so much effort into overcoming what he’d been through and opening up to us as his parents. He continually tries to hard at everything he does. He is smart, the funniest two year old I know, loving, caring, stubborn but kind, independent, and freaking adorable. He is perfect! And that laugh. Mattix has a laugh that makes everyone in the room laugh. If he breaks out one of his belly laughs when we’re out in public, people can’t help but laugh, too. His is the best, most sincere, genuine, deep laugh I’ve ever heard. It’s one thing that hasn’t changed about him. He rarely laughed in the beginning, but when he did, it was the exact same laugh. I love his laugh. I always thought I wanted to be a mom to a girl first, but oh my gosh, has having a boy first has been a gift. Once I had Mattix, I thought I could parent ten boys. Seriously! I never thought I’d be a good boy mom, but boys are great. My boy is great. 

 I still struggle with what he went through and why it happened. People say that once your child is home, all the “pain” from the wait and the other crap will fade away. Well, it doesn’t necessarily fade at all. The last five months of our nine month wait and the agony are still burned into my memory, as is the anger I feel over what happened during those nine months. I keep hoping that one day it will all pass. We’ll see. In the mean time, I get to feel all the joy and happiness of being Mattix’s mom.

Happy Family Day, baby!

Molley’s One Year Referral-versary!

I wrote most of this on the actual day…but then, of course, didn’t finish. Go figure. Story of my life right now. In addition to everything else going on, I’ve had MAJOR computer drama and lost a significant amount of work that has set me back well over a month. I’m doing my best to hang on…

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I didn’t actually fall off the face of the earth. Things just came to a head around here. We didn’t make it back home for Thanksgiving. Neither Ed or I could stomach the thought of strapping the babes into the car seats for seven hours, nor could we really stomach the idea ourselves. The kids were OUT OF CONTROL because of the prior two weeks. Actually, let’s be honest, more like the prior five or six weeks. Thanksgiving was SO nice. WE did NOTHING. We spent a few hours playing at the park, we went for walks, we hung out. We spent time together and it made the biggest difference for the kids. They went back to being happy littles in one day! It had been quite a few weeks…  Because we decided to ditch our plans the night before we were supposed to head home, we obviously had no Tgiving dinner. We went into our local grocery store and they took pity on us. They found one last Thanksgiving in a box dinner and *I* made it! Yeah, that’s right. I can warm a turkey in the over for two and a half hours and heat up gravy, mashed potatoes, and stuffing like nobody’s business. It was actually a perfect day.

Ed decided that I both needed to get away AND spend time with my friends and family, so he took it upon himself to book me a ticket home the day after Thanksgiving. It appeared that my grandpa, who is terminally ill, had taken a much bigger turn for the worse, so it was also important that I spent some time with him.  Ed then extended my stay for me by a day and a half, so I got home last Tuesday afternoon. Thank goodness for the hookup we got before we moved here for a great sitter who watched the little people while Ed worked on Monday and for half of Tuesday. I truly NEEDED the time alone. I had an amazing time with my friends on both Friday and Saturday night and I was able to spend a lot of time with family, especially my grandfather. My mom and I also loved all of our alone time. I came home refreshed and ready to be a “good” mom again.

So, this isn’t all about me. Today is Molley’s one year Referral-versary. I can’t even believe it. It’s truly hard to wrap my mind around that. I’m pretty sure I’ve not told Molley’s full referral story on this blog. I know I told part of it on her PW protected blog when it happened, but I don’t think I shared the whole thing. So, here it is. It proves to me that often, the biggest things and the most important things in life occur totally and completely outside of our control.

One year ago in October, the economy really started to go to hell. Ed’s last company was greatly affected by this.  Well, in my not-so-humble opinion it was affected both by the economy and very poor money management. By the end of October 2008,  when the whole bailout thing was happening and the stock market was tanking, it was starting to become quite apparent that the bonus we were expecting that we’d alloted to continue to fund the adoption probably wasn’t going to happen.  We didn’t even know how ugly it was going to get…we were thinking no bonus, not no job…

Throughout November, we occasionally discussed the possibility of putting our second adoption on hold. In our minds, we had quite a long time until our referral, but we thought maybe we should just ask the agency to hold us in our current place until we felt a little better about everything.  Things at his company really sucked in November, and so during the very last week of the month, I sent them an email simply asking where we stood in line. Our dossier went to Ethiopia on July 17th, 2008, so we were only slightly more than four months into our wait. I assumed we had at LEAST four more months, but probably more like eight, but before I put us on hold, I wanted to know exactly where we stood. I didn’t indicate that we were considering that because we wanted to know our place before we took action. If we had a long time to go, we figured we’d continue to move up the line before we put ourselves on hold. You obviously know where this is going.

I didn’t hear from anyone at the agency for a few days. I wasn’t terribly surprised. I’d been informed that communication about these sorts of things – really pretty minor stuff when you’re just waiting – wasn’t the best. I do remember commenting to Ed that it was sort of annoying because I’d never once asked anything about our place in line and the fact that it was the first time I’d contacted them since I sent our dossier sort of entitled me to a response.

On December 2nd, Ed happened to be in town during the week, something that was rather rare back then.  I had just gotten my ass handed to me on a platter at the gym and I was lying in a sweaty pile of foulness in the loft. Just the image you were hoping to conjure, right? The home phone rang and he answered it, another rarity. Based on what I heard from his end, I couldn’t figure out who he was talking to. All I heard was something about, “Okay, can you repeat all of that to my wife?” before he handed me a second phone.

It goes without saying that it was our agency director on the phone, telling us all about the baby girl who was three months old that was to become a part of our family. Holy crap! Seriously, how’s that for a reaction? Instead of telling us where we stood in line, she was telling us about a BABY. Once again, Ed and I were the freaks in the adoption world – totally caught off guard by a referral. This time it was a HUGE surprise. I had to sit down on the kitchen floor to keep it together. When we hung up the phones, we sat there staring at each other. To say it was unexpected and the timing wasn’t great would be an understatement. However, the one thing we’d said when we discussed putting ourselves on hold is that we’d have to do it before a referral, because once we had one, that was it. Well, that was it.

The director told us she would have someone in the office email Molley’s photos right over. Well, I guess “right over” meant within an hour. I hit refresh about 100 times before I called the office to ask where they pictures were! Finally, they arrived. Molley was tiny and perfect! She didn’t look super happy and she looked a little rough in one of her photos, but she was beautiful. We were totally captivated by her eyes. INCREDIBLE. They were the most beautiful eyes with the most insane eyelashes I’d ever seen.

Obviously there was no longer any discussion about putting ourselves on hold. Instead, the discussion became about the $8000 we had to pay the agency in addition to the travel expenses, which we anticipated would run another $8,000 because we were committed to staying a few days in Dubai. We figured out the agency portion of the fees and decided to deal with travel expenses later. ha ha ha – if only we knew what was coming “later.”

Both Ed and I were truly over the moon. I didn’t realize how excited I was going to be by the reality of a second baby.  I never posted photos of Molley’s nursery. While we no longer live there, it was pretty darn cute if I do say so myself! Her new nursery is actually even better, but I liked this one, too.

Her nursery would have been MUCH cuter if the woman I gave $400 to and sent another $250 worth of fabric to hadn’t stolen my money and not done three quarters of the work and literally sent me one quarter of the items I paid for, then ignored every single email I sent her for four months asking for either the completed items or a refund and my fabric back. In case you want to know who NOT to use for custom nursery items, you can find that info HERE. Seriously, I think I sent about 20 emails to all of her different addresses – personal, website, through ebay, through etsy, etc., asking her to do the right thing.  I was sooo patient and nice. The best part is that she continued to operate all of her businesses while simply acting as though I didn’t exist. It was pretty awesome. After Molley came home and the two of us were dying, I got to go to babies r us alone b/c Ed had left town for his new job and buy random crap for her bed. If you’re so inclined to, you know, leave her a comment about karma and whatnot, that’d be fine with me. I mean, seriously, guys, she didn’t send me 80% of what I ordered. I got the diaper genie cover, the valance, a lampshade, and the stupid switch plate covers. I was more hoping for the blankets, the sheets, the crib bumper, the dust ruffle…you know, that sort of stuff. Can you tell I’m still a little annoyed?

Moving on.

It’s hard for me to believe that we’ve known M0lley for almost eight months now. When we hit Matty’s one year referral anniversary, we’d only known him for three months. That makes a HUGE difference. Obviously. I’ve never been one to lie about bonding and whatnot, and as it turns out, it’s been pretty similar for me the second time through. I’ll write about that more this week. I’m *really* truly bonding with Molley now. Molley was so open to us as her parents – she began calling us “Mommy” and “Daddy” within about six or eight weeks. She clung to us from the get go and wanted me within her sight at all times. She fought sleep because she knew I’d leave the room. It’s a totally different place than where Matty began, and yet I wouldn’t say it was a whole lot easier or quicker for me to bond. I also think that the fact that I was frickin’ dying when I first got home and that Molley had horrifying explosive diarrhea 24 hours a day may have had something to do with that. Either way, we’re in such a great, becoming-very-secure place now and I’m beyond pleased. She sleeps in her bed, in her room, for about 12 hours a night. She wakes up a few times a night a few nights a week, but she goes back to sleep so easily. She’s crazy clingy and insecure right now because I was out of town for four days, but I know she’ll be right back to herself in a few days. I expected this and quite frankly, I might be a little worried if she didn’t care as much as she does.

Ed and I love Molley so darn much. She is truly a special little girl. She’s brilliant, gorgeous, hilarious, sweet, stubborn, and half crazy in the best way possible. She goes from sweet and adorable to feral cat in thirty seconds flat! Temper, temper, temper. My girl can throw a fit like nobody’s business one minute, then be giggling the next. Ed and I didn’t know what to do with that at first because we SO weren’t used to it. Matty has never really gone for the down-on-the-ground-kicking-and-screaming thing, so this was new. Now it’s just plain funny. She’s a huge showoff and loves to get attention, but if anyone actually approaches her or returns the attention, she immediately throws her body into mine, buries her head in me, and says, “Mommy!” all shy. I love it. On Thanksgiving, we went for a walk along the bay. There’s a restaurant there that’s entirely glassed in with a sidewalk in front of it. People we having their fancy Thanksgiving dinners. Molley cat walked her way down the entire front, stopping if a table didn’t notice her, doing her thing (waving, smiling, and blowing kisses) until they did. She literally has this princess waive and catwalk strut. We’re in trouuubbbllleee!

I love her affection and openness with us. I love the way she holds me back. This is one of my favorite photos of Molley and I, not because you can see my sexy double chin, but because THIS is how she holds us – so tight and loving. She was dead asleep here. When she’s awake, she hugs us around the neck so tightly and loving.

I love how she laughs. I love her smile. I love her heart. I love how pissy she can be. I love that my heart has grown for her so much since I met her. I love how she KNOWS I’m her mommy and Ed is her Daddy and she’s acted that way from the beginning. I love how open to us she has been from the beginning. I love how much she loves her brother AND how much she tries to beat the hell out of him rather regularly. She now instigates 80% of their squabbles. I love how strong she is. I’ve NEVER, in my entire life, felt a grip like that on a 15 month old. She can literally hold onto something so tightly it’s nearly impossible to pry her hands (or mouth) off of the object (or person). I love how determined she is. I love how she can go from throwing a huge tantrum to laughing at herself within ten seconds. I love that I have a baby girl to complete our family. My life and my heart are truly full. We’re lucky. So lucky.

The first photo we saw of Molley on December 2nd, 2008, taken on October 27th.

My baby girl one year later on December 2nd, 2009.

Day 22: Two big milestones for Molley!

I’m cheating! I put this post up in time, but I’m too tired to write it. I’ll do it on Monday evening.

Today is a big day for Molley, though. She turned 15 months old AND it is the day she has officially been with us longer than she was without us! She truly completes our family. More tomorrow! (Technically, today, but whatever. I’m tired.)

Day 21: If you don’t have anything nice to say…

…you’re not supposed to say anything at all. But when can I keep my mouth shut?!?!

My kids were…um…let’s see…hmmm…I’m at a loss for words that I can use in the same sentence as “my kids.”

Thank GOODNESS Ed was with us all day, because if I’d had a day like today alone, I would have been in a drunken stupor by noon. Instead, I made it to 8:30 before chugging the red wine, which, for the record, is sooo out of character for me b/c I’ve been on my hard core “eating plan” and I NEVER cheat! But today? Oh man, nothing could have stopped me. Not even the fact that the pants I bought when I was gaining weight, which pants ended up too small a few months ago, are now way too big. Now that’s progress! Putting those on this morning and finding that I could almost pull them off without unbuttoning or unzipping them should have kept me on the straight and narrow, but after today? NOTHING could have kept me from my nice big glass(es) of red wine!

I’ll spare you the nitty gritty, but the highlight came when Mattix literally LAUNCHED himself into some woman’s feet on our way out of L0we’s. We were leaving Lowe’s empty handed b/c it was too embarrassing to finish our shopping trip. Matty doesn’t throw fits. He wasn’t actually throwing a fit. He was making an effort to wrestle his way out of my grip (I was holding his hand. Firmly.) when he managed to break free, but he did it with a bit too much force and he literally launched himself into some poor woman who was in the checkout line. Her back was to us and it scared the crap out of her, then SHE felt terrible because Mattix ended up face down on the floor of Lowe’s, sprawled across some poor woman’s feet. I felt so badly for her because she felt terrible. She said, “OH MY GOSH! I’m SO sorry!” and I was like, “No, you don’t have to be sorry at all! You didn’t do a thing!” No worries…he’s two!” and she was all, “Oh, I feel just terrible. Is he okay?!” And of course, Mattix was bawling, but not because he was hurt. Because…he’s two.  And I just wanted to get the hell out of there and make her feel better b/c she didn’t need to  feel bad and I was like, “He’s just fine, I promise.” So I proceeded to take his hand again and half drag him out of L0we’s.

In case you’re wondering what Ed was doing, he was making a valiant effort not to drop Molley, who was throwing the mother of all fits in his arms. For NO reason.

Ugh. We didn’t accomplish one quarter of what we needed to and by the time we got home, I swear, both of us were DONE. We put both kids to bed at 6:00 p.m. That’s VERY early for our kids, but holy crap, we couldn’t take any more.

I really do think today was the WORST yet. It’s to be expected. The kids have had a rough month, at a minimum. But man, both of us were at our wit’s ends today. Anyone else ever feel like that? Like you can’t take one more minute of your kids?!?! I LOVE my babies. I do. But holy cow, today was a tough one.

Day 20: “I’m just a little, tiny baby!” “I say sorry!” and other great quotes…

I feel like I’m doing this every day, but one bit of clarification from yesterday’s post. I didn’t mean to imply that anyone who has commented has made me feel judged. I made that remark in general b/c others have judged our situation, not you guys. I know there are people have thought I was crazy and wouldn’t ever believe what happened. I also know of people whose children clearly had less than ideal experiences, but refuse to believe it. They seem to have the most judgment, which makes sense, really, but it’s still unappreciated. I’ll probably be able to stop clarifying what I mean when I can actually convey it in the first place, but that won’t happen until I stop feeling so tired!

My kids have both been saying and doing some really funny stuff lately. Here are a few favorites:

- Matty went to the hardware store with Ed. He walked in, stopped and looked around for about thirty seconds, and announced, “I just need a couple-a things here.”

- Matty had made a big mess and I told him we were going to clean it up before bed. He said, “No, Mommy, I got this. You sit down.”  I wish!

- This one is so not okay, but it’s funny. Matty’s realizing that it’s not really okay to talk about boobs. That sounds weird, right? Every once in a while, he likes to just point out my boobs. He does it with all body parts – eyes, nose, ears, etc., but he’s finally started to pick up on the fact that it’s more or less socially unacceptable to talk about boobs because I’ve been telling him, “That’s right, that’s what they are, but we don’t talk about other people’s boobs or touch them.” Well, being three months away from three, he now cracks up and makes a big deal out of it. Great. Tonight, at the grocery store, he announced, “These are Mommy’s boobs!” I was all, “Yes, Matty, but remember what we talked about? Let’s not say that.” And I swear on all that’s holy, he said, “Mommy’s boobs are REAL nice!”  Good way to get everyone to look at us, although most people tend to look at us, anyway. And NO, he didn’t get that from Ed! He thinks that if he tells you something is “really nice,” it makes whatever it is sound okay. For example, he sometimes says, “I’m gonna hit Molley!” and I’ll tell him, “No, no you’re not” and he’ll say, “I hit Molley REAL nice!” BTW, how do you not laugh when your two year old tells you your boobs are “REAL nice!” Ed lost it. That didn’t really help, as you can imagine.

- Mattix also got the idea that if he makes something about “happy birthday,” it makes it okay. I have NO idea what he’s thinking there. After both Ed and Molley’s birthdays within three weeks of each other, he got the idea that saying, “Happy Birthday” to someone is just a nice thing to say – like hello or have a great day! He began saying, “Happy Birthday!” to strangers who he wanted to talk to or any of us when he was feeling happy. Then he got the idea that if he added “Happy Birthday!” to something that wasn’t nice, it was okay. So, he started saying things like, “I give Molley a Happy Birthday hit in the face!” and smiling super big, or “I’m gonna Happy Birthday throw my toys!” Well, back to the boobs. The other day, he said something about his boobs and I was all, “Dude! What have we said about that?” and he was all, “I show you my Happy Birthday Boobs!” Luckily he did it when the alarm guy was over, so I may or may not be hearing from C*PS soon.

- I decorated Matty’s room and bathroom in a Toy Story theme. (It’s SO cute; I’ll post photos soon.)  I bought one of those semi-cheesy boxed kits that included a coat rack, book ends, growth chart, and picture frame. I had the picture frame setting on his dressers, so he picked it up and asked me what it was. I told him and I went to put a photo in it. I chose one of his referral photos. I hung the frame right at eye level for him. It looks ridiculous, but I wanted him to enjoy it. He was sooo pleased. I told him it was Mattix and that he was a little baby in the photo and he announced, “I’m just a liiiiiitttttlllleeeee, tiny baby here, Mommy! Be nice to the little baby! Wuuuuggggg (love) the little, tiny baby!” So sweet. He kept going back to the photo and saying that and giving it a kiss all night. He even went and got Ed and led him by the hand to show him twice. Too much sweetness for me, which is a good thing b/c I need a little contrast to the beatings Molley’s been catching from him.

- Molley has been spending a fair amount of her time in timeout. Yeah, Matty’s been handing out the beatings, but Molley’s been handing out the (also unprovoked) bitch slappings, eye pokings, and hair pullings. (Yes, they’re going through a little phase over here. Moving isn’t easy on any of us. I know it’s just all the change b/c they only bicker with each other; neither one does any of that stuff to Ed or me.) She learned three words from Matty that make me want to both laugh and put out my ear drums at the same time. When she goes into time out, she lays down the drama like nothing I’ve ever seen. She throws herself backward, screams, thrashes, then sits up. Once she’s sitting up and has stopped the fake, BS crying, she YELLS, “I say sorry, Mommy! I say sorry!” Matty started announcing, “I say sorry!” immediately after being put in time out about a month ago. Molley didn’t waste any time picking it up. It doesn’t work; they still have to remain in time out for the whole duration (one minute for Molley, three for Matty), but it’s pretty funny. They have to apologize for whatever they did when time out is over, so it’s pretty clever to make an effort to bypass the time out part if they’re going to do it anyway, right? Sometimes, Molley will go so far as to yell, “I sorry, Matty!” then look at me as though that’s good enough.

- Ed has been very busy hanging all of our photos and artwork. We have a TON of photos and artwork; I didn’t quite realize how much we had until all of the “picture pack” boxes were piled up in the living room. Anyway, Ed has spent a lot of time hanging everything b/c he does it all anal retentively (it makes me sooo proud) and uses a tape measure and level. Every time he begins measuring and drilling, Mattix comes RUNNING, yelling, “I’m gettin’ my tools, Daddy! Wait just a minute! Hold on!” He goes into his room, gets out his toolbox of “working” black and decker tools, chooses the replicas of whatever Ed is using, and gets to work. He really gets out his tape measure, level, and drill. Sometimes he has to switch the battery pack from one of the other tools to the drill, but he does it every time without fail.

- Molley like to go show herself off to Ed if I dress her. She goes running around the house yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!” until she locates him. At that point, she says, “Daddy, I prrrreeeeetttttyyyy!” and TWIRLS around. Seriously. We’re in trouble.

- And finally, my favorite. I got dressed the other morning and walked out of my closet. Matty took one look at me, smiled SO big, and said, “Wow! Mommy’s pretty! You pretty, Mommy!” That’s the first time he has said that and oh my gosh, I could have died. The fact of the matter is that nothing about me was even remotely pretty at that moment, but I’m certain that’s the biggest self esteem boost I’ve EVER had.

Still working on catching up on my sleep, so I’m off to bed. I hope you have a great weekend!

Day 19: My son, his life, clarification

First, very minor, but I just wanted to say that yesterday, when I said I took photos to remind me of the stress, I meant the photos of the stacks of boxes, NOT the photos of the kids playing in the paper! Those photos I adore. Mattix and Molley had so much fun covering themselves in packing paper. I read a comment that interpreted my remark on the box photos as also referring to the photos of the kids. I can totally see how it was taken that way, but I didn’t mean it that way!!!! Actually, the hour they spent playing in all of that packing paper was probably the best hour of the week.

Second, thank you for all of the advice. I sincerely appreciate all of it. I’ll get to what I will  likely do at the end.  I want to clarify a few things b/c I obviously didn’t convey all that I meant to convey in my last post. What I meant to say was that it would be asking too much to leave out all that Matty’s has been through and all that he has done – all the work and effort he has put into his life, work and effort that he never should have had to put forth - - to get where he is. Where he is now is INCREDIBLE and of course the report would be full of his awesome life because he is such an amazing, special little human being. I don’t have words to adequately cover me feelings for my children, my love for them, and my admiration for my son. I take time to think about the place he’s in now every day. I’m being honest. I still look at him daily and am filled with love and admiration for his life. What I meant was that I feel like it should also include the hard parts,  the ugly parts, the brutal parts, the fact that my baby does everything he can to keep from falling asleep anywhere but his bed, because when he wakes up in an unfamiliar place and he has NO VISION for the first 15 or so minutes, thanks to the trauma he experienced, he loses his $hit. I would of course include the great progress – how he has finally learned to trust Ed and me enough to allow us to console him after 20 minutes instead of two hours, how he looks at me now vs. how he used to look at me…all of it. But what I mean is that I won’t fill out some standard form about the roses that his life is now (and while it’s mostly roses, it’s not all roses; don’t think that something doesn’t occasionally crop up from the past). I meant that it will all be written down. All of it.

I also want to clarify that Mattix didn’t experience mere neglect, which, unfortunately, is the reality of many (if not most) orphanages. Neglect is part of international adoptions to some degree. Nobody can expect children in orphanage settings to get what they need, whether physical or emotional, no matter how terrible that is. That is fact. It is why I believe all parents who adopt from an orphanage should be told that their child will have special needs, even if just transient and even if minor.  

What happened to Mattix went well beyond neglect. I don’t talk in specifics often, but I guess I will a little bit tonight.  Mattix is Khmer, which is the majority in Cambodia and one of many minorities in Vie*tnam. The province where he was born in on the border of Cambodia. Because I cannot let anything go, I’ve put a tremendous amount of time and energy into researching the entire situation. I guess I cannot speak as specifically as I would like because I will not do anything to betray the relationships I’ve developed with other adoptive parents who have helped me through situations that many adoptive parents wouldn’t ever think could exist in a child so young. So I will just say that *I* believe that Mattix may have been treated the way he was because of his ethnicity. I’m not pulling that out of my a$$ and I have very concrete reasons to believe this. The reason probably doesn’t matter, but it’s just another thing that makes me sick b/c of something very specific about our agency.  I believe that what he went through was very severe. He wasn’t just left in a crib or left to hold his own bottle. These are things that I would have LOVED to deal with. I mean that. Loved it. I still won’t be specific here about what I more or less know happened, but it was horrible, horrible, horrible. Mattix is not alone. There were other children who went through what he did. There is SO much more to this…so much more that relates to what *I* *believe* may or may not have been known by some employees of my agency. I was told things that turned out to be anything but true once I was in country.

I also want to say that I realize that, apparently, the future of the Vie*tnam adoption program depends upon PPRs. This is what we were told. Then again, we were told all kinds of things that would make me laugh now if I weren’t sick and angry about it. Additionally, I kind of feel like the future of the Vie*tnam program depends upon the ability to prevent the plethora of unethical adoptions that occurred from occurring again, but anyway, that’s the anger and bitterness speaking.  And yes, I committed to doing the reports. But then again, I assumed that the orphanages in Vie*tnam committed to at least not intentionally hurting the children for whom they care. I’m struggling immensely here if it’s not apparent.  Furthermore, I realize the report may go to a central movement authority, but it also goes to the orphanage (or at least the province, which is very, very small and very, very local). And this is where I really, really struggle. What the hell do they care? Obviously not much because if they did, this wouldn’t have happened to multiple children. So I’m going to send a report detailing my child’s struggles to the place that caused them?

I’ve always said that I *will* do the reports if for the one and only reason that on the off, off chance his mother went looking for info, she could find it and know how well he’s doing. But now  I wonder whether the orphanage would really allow this sort of information to be available to anyone? And furthermore, would I want his mom reading that? Or am I better off attempting to locate her through a searcher to learn whether she would like information about her son and whether she would like any measure of contact with Mattix (or more specifically, our family until he’s older)?

So of course the easy solution is to fill in the basic report with the happy stuff and send it to our agency, so they can be happy and feel good and post about what great work they’re doing on their website, and they can forward it on to Vie*tnam, so whoever there deals with it can feel fine about it. But that’s not right. It’s just not right.  So much of what happened wasn’t right. You know what wasn’t right? The fact that US*CIS had to return a child from Mattix’s orphanage – a child who was “older” and “special needs,” which supposedly means more ”safe” in ethics land, right?  - to his birth parents because they didn’t want the child adopted internationally; they wanted to raise their child. That’s not right. I have so many issues with what US*CIS  did or did NOT do, which I believe varies drastically depending upon many factors, but what if they hadn’t investigated this particular case? This child wouldn’t have been returned to the parents. (For the record, this child wasn’t to be adopted through our agency, but the other agency that worked in his orphanage. I think that might be splitting hairs, but regardless, it’s a fact).

Finally, this may seem silly to some people, but I want Mattix to be able to return one day as an adult without concern, should HE so choose, and I don’t want anything I send over to the government of Vie*tnam to become a problem. It’s unlikely, but nothing’s impossible.

I also want to note that I believe strongly in PPRs. I totally dropped the ball and messed up the timing of Molley’s, so I have to do two reports at once to catch up and I WILL, unequivocally, do those reports. The way our lives have been has really interfered with a lot lately. Anyway, I will write those reports, not because her life was easy and fantastic when she came home, because it obviously wasn’t, but because I know that the people who will read the reports about Molley will care.

I have a lot to wade through emotionally. I want you to know that it does not affect my parenting. Believe it or not, I’ve become very adept at compartmentalizing this particular situation. I’m fine with being judged and I’m fine with other having their own opinions of the way I feel, but unless you’ve lived this, unless you know what I know… In the end,  I believe that I will write the report and I will send it directly to Vie*tnam. It do not know what it will include, but I believe that I’ll do it. I hope that this helps you understand where I’m coming from a little bit.

On a TOTALLY unrelated note, I just wanted to report that the woman who “packed” my room, closet, and bathroom has been let go by the moving company. This makes me feel very good, not because I felt vindicated or happy that someone was fired, but because I wouldn’t want anyone else to have something so malicious done to them, especially something that they pay thousands and thousands of dollars for. I mean, really, I just paid you to intentionally ruin my things and make me feel like crap?  I’m sorry, but I didn’t deserve that. I’m not a bad person. What happened made me feel terrible. A friend who had her home broken into, her personal and meaningful possessions rifled through and stolen, compared it to that. It actually put into words how I felt. It’s not like I would have been thrilled if my china had been shattered or my small appliances smashed, but they’re not the same as my freaking underwear drawer and personal collections, if that makes sense. If they’d thrown the heavy silverware in with the glasses and broken them all, I would have been angry at the carelessness, annoyed that it happened, and upset that I had to deal with it,  but I wouldn’t have felt so icky. Make sense? So, anyway,  at this moment, I still have a decent opinion of the company because they didn’t just blow me off and not care. They obviously took what I wrote to them and the 30 photos I included seriously. I’m guessing they spoke to everyone else who worked with us to get their opinions because the whole process took  a week. I know that nobody had anything negative to say, because as I said before, we had a great experience with everyone else. Hell, two of their movers on each end gave me hugs before they left. Anyway, this reinforces what I previously believed about the company. We shall see how they handle my refund request because I feel I am owed a refund for the portion I paid to have her pack our room, bedroom, and bathroom, which represented a full third of the packing work. In my mind, that means a full third of the packing cost. The individual handling this situation is supposed to call me tomorrow.

If you read this full post, thank you! I’m heading to bed because I’m getting sick AGAIN! I’m not remotely surprised, but I’m not happy about it. All I’m sayin’  is that it better just be a cold because if I get the flu before the stupid H1N1 shot I had takes effect, I’m gonna be one unhappy camper. I’ve been wiggling my toes for three days now just to make sure numbness and tingling aren’t setting in. If all that’s for nothing… My sense of humor will be back, I promise. I’m sort of too tired to laugh about anything right now.  BTW, I didn’t do a bit of unpacking today and the kids and I spent lots of quality time together. Our alarm installer took SIX HOURS to do that job, so Matty, Molley and I hung out while he worked. Our lives will be normal again soon!

Day 18: Photos and Advice, Please

I took these photos so I could send myself into shaking-in-the-corner fits when I once again feel mentally insane. Nothing like a little PTSD. We’d only unpacked about a third of the boxes when I took these photos, and half the crap was out on the deck…

The lamp in the background is six feet high. We could still see the top foot!

Isn’t this the cutest thing? Molley found my earmuffs from all of our DC trips (probably packed in with the toilet plunger or something). She had a great time with them! She is freaking adorable when she shows off and poses. She literally twirls so you can see her from all angles and bats her eyelashes. If I dress her in the morning and I tell her she looks beautiful, she immediately says, “Daddy see!” and goes tooling down the hall, saying in the most coy voice ever, “Daaaaaaadddddddy! Daaaaaaadddddy!” When she finds him, she announces “Pretty!” Love her!

This is what happens when you put your babies in their chairs, give them their food, and then try to be sneaky and use that “contained” time to unpack. Oops. The girl is smart; this was intentional. It made me stop what I was doing, that’s for sure.

 

Is this not the mother of all cheese smiles???? Matty wanted his photo taken…badly. I forgot to mention what he did at the wedding last week. Someone pulled out a camera and Matty saw it at the OTHER end of the looonggg table. He automatically assumed it was for him, of course, so he YELLED, “Cheese!” and flashed his beautiful (not his cheese) smile. That’s one way to get 30 people to shut up for a few seconds, take notice, and melt! Everyone was just dying. So course he had his photo taken by several people who had to catch that cuteness on camera. I’m sure Molley would have joined in if she weren’t passed out in Ed’s lap. Anyway, this is what Matty now does when I take Molley’s photos.

Finally, check out my little track suit man! I was down in the parking garage, taking photos of the washer and dryer that I had our movers put down there. I’m going to sell the set on Craig’s List b/c I liked our last one better so I’m replacing this one. Anyway, once I whipped out the camera, my little Ham was in action. I just love how cute he is. Love it.

Here’s where I need the advice. As many of you know, Vietnam requires parents to write P0st Pl@cement Rep0rts every six months between years one and three home. I didn’t write the first one I was responsible for writing. I just didn’t do it. I was pretty sure that whatever I sent to our “agency” would have been put through the paper shredder because I cannot, in a million years, fathom that they would have sent it over to Matty’s orphanage. See, the social workers have a way of writing PPRs from a more neutral, professional place. They were  better able to spin the hell that was our lives for that first six months and the very difficult horror it was for the next six into something manageable and not too traumatic, not too angry, not too accusatory. Me? Not so much. I’ve lived the hell with my baby, and I still will never know the real hell. I held him as he screamed bloody murder, growled at me like a dog, punched me in the face, kicked me as hard as he could. I held him as he went into hysterics that would take hours to end. I watched him struggle so hard, cry so hard. I have also had the privilege of watching him as he has grown into a happy, loving, kind person. (They can all suck on it. They couldn’t ruin who my baby is.)

So I skipped the damn thing. At the time, I thought that maybe after another six months, I’d be in a better place and could try again. Except six months later? We now have a medical diagnosis that only confirms what I’ve known about Matty’s life before he became ours. Hell doesn’t cover it. You think I can write something nice now? I’m pretty sure you guys probably know me better than that. All of that anger I’d been working through, the rage, the heartbreak…it’s all raw again. Yesterday, I rec’d a “reminder email” that our PPR was due by Matty’s G&R date (Dec. 10th). What do you think? Honestly, I want to know what you think. Do I write it? I’m not going to lie if I do. It’s going to be brutally honest and it will probably become angry. Because yes, I’m still angry. That little person that I love more than life itself didn’t deserve that. NOBODY deserves that. I just don’t see the point. They wouldn’t send it over and I’m not sure I’m in a place right now to totally reopen that box. But I committed to writing them, and that makes me feel tremendously guilty. Thoughts? Please offer me something here…I’m struggling.

And with that, I’m going to bed. Gretchen has scared me straight. Seriously, though, this is flipping ridiculous. I busted ass today, was able to accomplish a ton,  and I’m going to sleep tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Days 14-17: NaBloPoMo – FAIL. So I’ll just whine.

Go figure. Not the best month to make an effort to post every day. I’m actually really annoyed with myself. I realized I’d missed my day at about 3:00 a.m. on Saturday when I was getting ready for bed after unpacking more boxes. For the first time in a long time, I had nothing left. Nothing. Couldn’t even make myself open the computer. I’d fallen asleep sitting up on the couch on Friday night after my post. And no, just to be clear, I didn’t drink a thing other than diet Coke at the wedding dinner. I’m on another round of my stupid eating plan so I can lose these last 10-ish pounds, so no booze for me. I’m just that tired. I’m beat to hell. I’m pretty sure the way I feel is a combination of how I felt after Vietnam (didn’t know I could be that tired) and after Ethiopia (didn’t know I could be that sick).  I really considered attempting to make up for it on Sunday, but after three hours of sleep and then spending the day clearing out our temporary apartment here, making three trips with the stuff we were keeping, and cleaning it, well, it just didn’t happen.  Any progress I’d made on putting away things in the kitchen, hall, and great room was totally undone with the addition of that stuff. Kind of wish I’d called a charity and had them come pick EVERYTHING up. We pretty much gave all the furniture to a few guys who moved into the place. I was just glad to have it gone.

On Sunday night, Ed passed out sitting up on the couch and I passed out sitting up in our bed that was literally COVERED in clothes that I was attempting to sort through, again thanks to the psycho Bi-atch who packed my room, around midnight. That was an early night for us.  Last night was the first night I quit working around 8:00, sat myself down on the couch, and stared out the window at the beautiful view, at the wall,  and at the TV for four hours. Productive, huh? I glanced over at the computer several times, full of good intentions…

Moving  is so different with two little kids who are so close in age that they act like freaking twins. I’ve never been a moving fan, but man, this time? I’m getting my ass handed to me on a platter. It’s also different moving from one state to another and moving from a temporary residence at the same time. We’ve been living out of suit cases for almost six months.  Having pneumonia isn’t helping the situation. I’m going to try to begin sleeping more than three of four hours a night now b/c I’m probably never going to get better if I don’t. Plus, my children can only take so much neglect.

The kids and I had our swine flu shots last night.  Mattix went first and cried his little heart out. I felt horrible. I tried to have Ed take him back, but he wanted Mommy. He’s usually not so over-the-top, but I think he’s been through so many medical procedures lately that it was just too much. Molley, my usually-dramatic screamer, didn’t make a peep! I cried my eyes out when it was my turn. Kidding, of course. Although my injection site immediately became very red, raised, and warm, so I freaked out and determined that I was going to end up paralyzed with Guillain Barre Syndrome. I was all, “I can’t feel my arm! I’m dying!” and Ed was like, “Didn’t you say that numbness starts in the legs?” and I was all, “Dude! Fine. I can’t feel my legs, then!” and he was like, “That’s not what you just said” and I was all, “You’re not the one who’s going to be on a vent, so shut the hell up” and he was all, “Seriously? Doesn’t it usually take a week or two?” And I was like, “No, it can happen within hours or up to a few weeks. And you should be a little more concerned, b/c YOU’RE the one who’s going to be stuck changing my diapers along with the kids’ if I’m paralyzed.” The people at the doctors office were a little worried, but I don’t think it was about me having Guillain Barre. I probably shouldn’t joke because it really can take up to a few weeks to develop.  I don’t ever react to vaccines, so there was a legitimate reason for me to to be worried.

Want to know the coolest thing ever? This is the same doctor I went to for all three years that we lived here last time. He is the one who knew I had yet another autoimmune issue after months and months of being treated for INSANE things that were so off the wall that I laugh now (but at the time, I was so sick I just wanted to be better) by pathetically stupid physicians. He referred me to my rheumatologist, who treated me for three years and eventually helped me to become healthy and happy again. My old doctor has a new office DIRECTLY below my condo!  I didn’t even notice it until we were moving in and I was thrilled. He used to be about a mile down the street in a much older building, which isn’t a big deal because I’m used to driving up to 50 miles to see doctors, but now I can literally walk downstairs and right into his office. I’ll also take the kids to him for routine sickness and continue to take them back home to the pediatrician I adore for their milestone appointments and for appointments that have anything to do with “adoption issues.” This also means that I’ll take better care of myself b/c I’m much more inclined to go in for my regular blood work and whatnot when I can walk downstairs to see him and walk three blocks up the street for the lab. Just another reason I ADORE this place.

Today about sent me off the deep end. I could go through a painful blow-by-blow, but it wouldn’t seem as bad as it did to me. The kids were incredible until the end, at which point they have every reason not to be incredible (missed naps, missed lunch, Matty’s finger getting pinched in the car door, etc.). It was just a long, hard day. I had a lot of bad Mommy feelings because it became clear to me exactly  how attention deprived they are. My kids usually hate to run these kinds of errands but they were way too happy about it today. Mattix wanted me to carry him all over the stores while I pushed Molley in the cart. Matty isn’t my snuggle bug. He’s too busy living life. But today he held onto me for dear life, nuzzled his face into mine, and gave me more kisses than I could count. He repeatedly told me, “I love you soooo much, Mommy!” and hugged me every time. His arms were wrapped tightly around my neck for a long, long time. It was hard not to cry a few times in the stores. Molley continually rubbed my hand on the cart, put her cheek on it, and coo’d. She flashed me her huge smile and said, “Hi, Mommy! I love you!” every few minutes.  I felt so loved, but so terrible. This period of our lives isn’t fair to them and I want it to be wrapped up soon.

We literally ran about 15 errands. That’s a whole lotta trips in and out of the car seats for two little people. Mostly for me, actually. A lot of in and out of the car seats for me. Hauling them in and out isn’t exactly fun because I have to pick them up, get them situated, and buckle them…but I still REFUSE to cave. There will be NO minivan in my future. NONE.  I will ruin my back getting them in and out before I’ll go there. If you drive a minivan, BTW, no judgment. I promise. This is MY issue.

The low point of my day came when I bought so much stuff at C0stco, added to all of the stuff I’d bought all day, that I literally had to put the kids in their car seats, take everything out of the car, and spend thirty minutes doing my very best to pack all of the previous purchases AND the new ones into a freaking Tahoe. Does that tell you how much $hit we ended up with today? And only three items were food. I thought I might sit down in the busy C0stco parking lot and cry. Hard. But I saved it, because nothing compared to coming home and trying to figure out how to get it all upstairs with two kids and no husband (he’s out of town).  We have an elevator, but it’s not a straight shot from where I park my car in the garage and I bought a LOT of heavy stuff, including two huge and heavy boxed reclining chairs for the kids so they can stop fighting over the two they have (which are different. They act like twins these days, so I need two of everything).  So, I double parked on the street, unloaded everything into a giant, huge pile on the sidewalk  at the bottom of the stairs, directly in front of a fancy boutique, left it there like white trash while I went and parked my car  in the garage all Austin Powers-style (which is a whole ‘nother story…keep reading) and then went back and made 50 trips upstairs.

My entire  body hurts. Not just from the loading, unloading, and hauling, but everything. It hurts. I’m done. I have nothing left. Okay, that’s a huge exaggeration, but I don’t want to have anything left. Throughout the last two years, I’ve been challenged in several ways and have always come out in a much better place. Not much about the last two years has been easy . So, I know this is just another part that will pass soon. We’ll be much better off when it’s over, I’ll realize I’m even more capable than I thought, and I’ll be glad for where we are. But right now? When I’m in the middle of this, I’m home with the kids alone, we’re leaving town in five days, and I’ve been sleeping three or four hours a night? It’s just sort of hard to wrap my mind around it.

There. There was my giant, long, whining post to make up for four days of silence that I would have enjoyed if I’d been reading this blog! Tomorrow’s post will be some cute pics of the kids. And the day after will be in response to the person who totally criticized me in an anonymous email last week. Thanks for that. That’s exactly what I needed. Judgment. I’m pretty sure this is where I say something about throwing stones. And in a few days, I’ll have Molley’s fifteen month update, which also falls on the same day she’ll have been with us the same amount of time she wasn’t. Pretty cool, huh? Life really is great.

About the parking garage.  It’s super tight for someone with a Mommy Mobile. ALL parking places in this damn city are super tight. I forgot about that because last time I lived here, I drove a Mustang for the first year and a half and a mini-SUV for the second year and a half. My current vehicle, which isn’t even that huge, often takes up every bit of space between the lines. I mean that. So, the parking garage in our condo is super tight and those spaces are like the rest in town. There are about 12 condos and everyone has two spaces and it’s VERY secure, so I’m not complaining, but it’s tight. Anyway, I have to Austin Powers my way into my spot. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s from Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery, when he gets the golf cart stuck between two walls and has to do like a 50 point turn to get it out, pulling forward two inches before reversing two inches, over and over…) Yeah, well, that’s me making an effort to park my bigg ass SUV between the giant concrete pillar on one side the 7-Series BMW on the other. One of our neighbors told me the people who once lived here hit the concrete pillar. Twice. Each time in a new car. Awesome. I’m pretty sure that once my other neighbor who apparently drives the 7-Series comes down and sees my car next to his , two inches off the line, he’s going to start hugging the Cayenne on the other side of him instead of  the Tahoe, in and out of which two kids are hoisted regularly. Just a hunch. Yes, my car is totally out of place.

Night! Tomorrow’s a new day. Hopefully it will be the day I can see the counter tops again. That would be awesome!

Day 13: Dealing with Rage

Just kidding about the dealing with rage thing! I keep joking about it b/c I was SOOOO mad yesterday. I don’t really get mad in that way. Very seldom is there something that sends me off the deep end. Matty’s situation is one thing that can still do it now and then, but I find that pretty valid.

Anyway, thanks for the comments and emails. I cannot believe how many people have similar experiences. WHAT IS THE DEAL?  I was sooo impressed by this company and everyone who worked for them except for this woman. I worked with twelve people total, and only one was “bad.” Unfortunately, she was such a crazy bi*%h that she totally ruined the entire situation. I’ll post photos of my room as it stands right now. Ed got to the point at about 3:00 a.m. where he would literally just dump clothing boxes on the bed. Everything in them was such a freaking wreck anyway that it didn’t matter.

If you know me, you’ll know that I will not let this go until something is done. The woman who did all of this was called into the office at 9:00 this morning for “the appropriate action.” I’m hoping my gut feeling on what the “appropriate action” is is correct because IMO, there’s only one thing to do when someone does something like this. I forgot to mention that I strongly believe the ketchup thing was intentional for many reasons, one of them being that only the white handbags had ketchup on them. Coincidence? I think not. And trust me, I checked them all very carefully.

At 2:00  this morning, as I was still digging through boxes, I unpacked my favorite. Nothing particularly valuable, but beyond disgusting. Following are just a few of the items once again thrown into a large box:

- toilet plunger, unwrapped

- toilet brush, out of the holder, unwrapped of course

- tooth brushes, unwrapped, setting up against bottom of toilet plunger

-  everything from my shower – shampoo, conditioner, etc.

- hair accessories (I have lots of little shiny things to put in my hair so as to distract from the fact that it’s generally a three day old rat’s nest), all floating around, some squished

- three dirty bath mats

Lots, lots, lost more.

Really? My toothbrushes and dental floss were tossed on top of a mothereffing toilet plunger?

80% of the stuff in that box went straight to the trash. Anyway, the 17 page letter I wrote (before finding the toilet plunger box) was quite therapeutic.  I called at 8:45 this a.m. their time to ensure that they rec’d my letter, which of course they did. The woman who is handling the issue with the “packer” forwarded my manifesto onto their customer service individual whose job it must be to make really pissed off people calmer. He called to let me know that he received it, but that he was out of the office and couldn’t open it on his blackberry. He said he’d be in touch early next week. Obviously, he will be or I’ll be in touch.   I fully believe he will indeed call me, but we’ll see what he offers.

My mom flew in this morning. We got pedicures late this afternoon, which was just heavenly.I have to say that I enjoyed that hour in the magic chair more than I’ve enjoyed most things over the past three weeks! I fell asleep twice!  My toes did not look like the belonged to a human being! I still had leftover black French with sliver sparkly lines from Vegas six weeks ago. How gross is that?!?!

Then, we attended a dinner reception for a very close family friend who was married today. It was wonderful – I love being around happy newlyweds! And this marriage is one of those where you truly know they’re happy and right for each other. Wish I could say that about all of the couples whose weddings I’ve attended, but I cannot. The bride just glowed all night. She looked gorgeous and her happiness was contagious.

My bug and my girl were WONDERFUL. We got home at 10:30 and they still had it together. Matty wanted cake all night sooo badly, but he of course had to wait. He never once whined, demanded, or melted down. He waited over two hours for cake and was patient the entire time.  When he finally got a piece, he screamed, “I WUG CAKE! THANK YOU!!!!” and went to town. So sweet. Any time anyone would pull out a camera, Matty would yell, “Cheese!” and bust out his cheese smile. He wasn’t doing it for attention; he truly believes that any time a photo is taken it’s taken of him.  Matty can generally handle blowing his bedtime if we’re out and having fun, but Molley isn’t quite the partier. She did really well tonight, though. She cried herself to sleep on Ed, which was actually very sweet. She then woke up and was awake for the last hour or so – she was great! All in all a good night.

Hope you all have a great weekend!

Day 12: Everything I said about our moving company?

Yeah, well, I take it all back. The B word who packed my bedroom and closet intentionally and egregiously ruined several VERY expensive items that are valuable to me beyond the monetary portion, intentionally ruined clothing, and made such a mess that I don’t even know where to start.  I have been so angry all day that I’m having trouble seeing straight. I just finished composing a 17 page word document, complete with 30 photos and pages and pages of details, to the higher ups at the company. I might just put it here for your reading pleasure tomorrow so that you can actually understand what she did. This is SO far beyond throwing random shit in random boxes. She ate her GD breakfast AS she packed my collection and got F”ING KETCHUP on at least seven handbags. Seriously, here, look:

Two of those handbags were in cases on opposite walls in my room, and a third was in the closet. Not an accident at all.

See this mess?

This is how she packed everything she touched. Bad enough, right? Sure, except that at the bottom of this shit fest of liquids are several thousand dollars worth of handbags.  And? Most of this stuff was neatly organized in bins in my bathroom. She literally dumped everything out of the containers  in which I kept it all and into moving boxes, then threw empty containers into other boxes. WHAT. THE. HELL.?

If you know me, you know about my “collection.” It is what it is. I care about it. I’m not crazy about “stuff,” but I’m pretty hard core about this. Said collection lives in several huge glassed-in cases.  Even my children, who are one and two years old, know better than to open any of those cases. Any person with the brain capacity of a five year old can see that it’s important to me.  If that weren’t enough, it was all marked as such. She ate her GD Jack in the Box – that **I** bought for her – as she packed it, apparently. That was after I watched her march into my kitchen, open my fridge, dig around for a bottle of ketchup, and squirt it all the hell over everything. Now, being mildly reasonable, I figured she’d eat her food in once place, WASH her hands, then resume packing. Silly me.  She also munched on a king size bag of fire hot Cheeto’s (so really nice and red) while she packed all day. These were items that were marked (as per the moving co’s instructions) as “high value” items, were supposed to be packed with extreme care, and labeled as such, all per the company’s policy.  Pffff.  The two amazing women who packed up the rest of my house wrapped my stapler, for f$%*’s sake. This woman didn’t use a single piece of packing paper on a single handbag. NOT ONE. Ed and I unwrapped thousands and thousands of pieces of packing paper from the boxes the other women packed. This individual used none.

There is SO much more to this. Ed and I had a large master closet in our home. She took every last dry cleaned and folded item, unfolded each one, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it into a box. I wish you could see everything she did. The cost to have the items that need to be re-dry cleaned will exceed $500. that’s cheap in comparison, though, to everything else she did.

Exclusive of the master bedroom, bathroom, and closet, Ed and I managed to unpack everything, even though he’s working 12 hours days and I have both kids alone during the day, in two and a half days. Granted, we’ve not really slept, but that’s not the point.  This mess? It’s going to take me weeks and thousands of dollars (which damn well better be covered by insurance, but again, that’s not the point) to deal with. 

Pretty pathetic how one REALLY bad apple can spoil the bunch this badly, huh?

If the moving company doesn’t refund the portion of our packing cost that is attributable to the master bedroom, closet, and bathroom, which represents a full third of said packing costs, I’m going to lose my @hit. I mean it. I am. I’ve not been livid like this in YEARS. It’s the intent. And yes, it was intentional, because when she walked into my room, she rolled her eyes and said to Ed, “Oh my G*d, you’d better MAKE your wife stop buying these.” And she was being serious. Then she walked into my closet, rolled her eyes again, and said, “This will be fun.” If you’ve been to my house, you KNOW how organized I am. She threw a few bottles of liquids into several of the boxes that were otherwise purses only. She did this intentionally.  Nothing will ever convince me otherwise.

I’m NOT letting this go with the company. It’s not an accident. An accident is the damaged furniture and the shattered urn planter.  Accidents happen when people take great care to avoid them, but they happen anyway. Our movers were beyond careful. I get accidents and I’m not even remotely upset about the two pieces of furniture that suffered damage, the broken pot, the shattered frame. THAT is why I purchased insurance. THAT was accidental. What this woman did? Anything but…

Ugh. Today’s post was supposed to include photos of my adorable little people playing in piles of packing paper. They were so cute this morning. I thought we were going to have an okay day. Not so much. Sorry guys. That move I was saying wasn’t stressful at all? It just became a freaking nightmare.

Also, thanks so much for the support regarding my less-than-stellar mommy’ing skillz. It’s not that it’s great to hear that other moms occasionally lose it with their kids, but it’s great to know I’m not a terrible mom and that I’m not alone! You guys are awesome.

To end on a better note, because I hate all of the complaining I’m doing: my mom flies in at 8:45 in the morning. Her best friend’s daughter, who I’ve know since she was four and I was six, is getting married tomorrow. It’s a small, low key thing, but we’re attending the reception dinner and I’m so excited! I love going to weddings and being around people who are just-married. So sweet!

Tomorrow will be a better day.

Happy Friday!