Remembering Dec. 16th and I’m too tired for anything else!

Well, Mattix got the day going like always: early and poopy. We flew to Hanoi this afternoon, so we had to get up this morning and start packing. YUCK. You should have seen our hotel room. I forgot to ask Ed to take a picture, but it’s probably a good thing because seeing it again would cause me to have severe PTSD. I took one look at all the stuff and curled up in the fetal position. We brought two huge duffle bags of clothes and toys to donate to the orphanage. We kept one empty duffle bag in which to bring all of our purchases home and left the other with the orphanage. We should have kept the second duffle bag as well, because I was certain that there was NO way we were getting everything into the bags we had. However, Ed was able to use the expansion “function” on our small carryon piece of luggage and stuff more things in there than I thought humanly possible to check with the big bags. The problem we had was that after we finished packing, each of the two huge bags weighed 80 pounds, and I’ve heard that if a single bag weighs more than 70 pounds, they won’t take it at all. Furthermore, the weight limit on domestic flights in VN is 20 kg per person, which is about 44 pounds. That’s per PERSON, not per piece of luggage. Mattix counted, as we had to buy him a ticket. But puh-leeze. Forty four pounds per person? Give me a break! More on that later.

So, back to Little Man. He woke us up bright an early, although not as early as usual. Today’s wakeup call came at 6:00 a.m. Once again, the night was a nightmare for all of us. He slept well for maybe two hours, then the screaming, crying, and tossing and turning began. Poor little guy has the hardest time with sleep. Poor mom and dad also have the hardest time with sleep now. I may have to admit to taking two NyQuil to help with the Bird Flu. I NEVER take any sort of cold medication, so I suspect I slept better than Ed, who was on solo duty for half the night. I wouldn’t have taken it because I don’t take over the counter cold/allergy medications, but the Bird Flu is progressing and I was worried that it might turn into something worse. This morning I lived super dangerously and took two DayQuil. I’ve never taken DayQuil before, and I assure I won’t ever take it again. I felt like I was on crack all day, although I’m only guessing what it feels like to be on crack. If it’s anything like this, I’m glad I always said no (not that I was ever offered drugs because I’m just that cool and always have been).

Little Guy was good and active while we worked on packing. We put his stacking cups on the floor and let him crawl around and play with them. He also likes to stand up in front of the mirror and bang on it, smile, and giggle. (We all suspect that the kids have never really had any time in front of a mirror, because the first few times he saw his reflection, he was in absolute awe. He’s still quite font of the mirror.) Mattix was playing with his stacking cups, as well as his reflection in the mirror, or so we thought.

The orphanage may want him back (not in a million years would that happen!), because we were busy packing when we heard a horribly loud thud, followed by screaming. Mattix had hit his head on the chair while he was trying to stand. It sounded HORRIBLE and, as it turns out, it must have felt worse. Within two minutes, a giant goose egg had formed on his poor little forehead. I almost threw up I was so upset. I was far more upset than he was. The sad thing is that these kids are tough. Way too tough. He cried for maybe 60 seconds, then just stopped and wanted to be put down, as though nothing had happened. I was sure he was going to have a concussion because of how hard he hit, so I of course called my mom. She said he would probably be fine, but I was still very worried. I gave him some baby Tylenol because even though he wasn’t crying about it, I knew he must have had a huge headache. I guess Ed and I get the crappy parenting of the year award for that one. (By the way, the goose egg went down by about 50% and turned a lovely shade of black and blue.)

So, after the fall, I stopped packing and sat on the floor with Mattix while Ed packed more. I though this was a much better arrangement, as we didn’t want him to break any bones and I was not doing well with the packing thing anyway. However, I changed my mind when I smelled that familiar horrible stench. Mattix crawled over to me to show me the lovely brown hue that the entire back of his footsie jammies had taken on. Seriously. If I can offer one bit of advice to adoptive parents, it’s this: pack a bag full of quality American diapers. I don’t care how much room they take up. Bring an extra suitcase if necessary. Leave your toiletries and clothes at home if that’s what it takes. Just bring diapers. Now I know why they don’t often bother with disposables at the orphanage. They end up sharding their clothes anyway, so why mess with the middle man (the diaper)? We’ve had a blow out every time he goes poo, except for the times when Ed takes the diaper off mid- or pre-poo, which, although Ed complains about it, seems like a much better plan because at least Mattix’s clothes aren’t covered in poo.

Anyway, I stripped off the footsie jammies and put Mattix in the tub. (RIP Carter’s Footsie Jammies with the airplanes. We loved you the one time Mattix wore you and he sure looked cute in you, but you’re off to bigger and better places – the trash can. No time to get the laundry back from the Rex and you can bet your butt we weren’t going to bag those bad boys up and take ‘em. Wasteful Americans.) Mattix is getting used to the bath-after-the-poo routine, because he doesn’t complain a bit. He just sits there while I hose him off. I wouldn’t complain, either, because I’d much rather have the poo hosed off than sit on my hiney, back, legs, and arms (yup, it spreads quickly).

After the bath, we were trying to figure out what Mattix was fussing about when we realized that we had not fed him breakfast. Strike Two (one was the bump on the head). Up to the breakfast room we went. I am going to miss this food. We have our routine down, so all three of us ate quickly. We were just getting good at it, and now we have to leave.

After breakfast, we met in the lobby and eventually left for the airport. Yeah, the airport was fun. We were worried about missing our flight because we cut it pretty close. Once we were at the check in counter, we learned that our total baggage overage was about 50 kg. We knew we would just have to pay for the overage and we couldn’t have cared less, but we weren’t so thrilled when we learned we had to leave the check in counter (after waiting in line for 20+ minutes), walk back around, and get in another line to pay. Once there, we were told it was going to be $750 American dollars. Okay, seriously. I didn’t mind paying, but $750 in baggage when the tickets cost $100 each? Then the woman realized she hadn’t converted properly and it was actually $75. Much better. We paid more than that to get our bags from home to San Francisco (domestic flights in the states only allow 50 pounds, international 70), so that was a bargain. Anyway, we made it back to the counter, where a few people who probably didn’t realize we had already checked in there were quite unhappy with our “cutting” to the point that they felt it necessary to shove their cart full of luggage into my legs just to show me what was up. Yeah, ‘cause that’s a good idea. Knock over the lady with the baby. Little did they know that my big American ass is hard to knock over. We got our tickets and our passports back and headed for the gate.

Security was an interesting experience. Not quite like in the states. I’ll write more about that when I’m home. Once through security, Kathy told us that our flight was delayed by half an hour and we were relived. Boarding flights here is certainly interesting. By interesting I mean a bit of a mess. There’s no order. When they announce that the plane will begin boarding, everyone just pushes to the counter and forms a pseudo-line. (Pseudo because if you wish for your place in line to be closer to the front, you just make it that. And by “you” I mean everyone else besides us.) And if you think you might get to pre-board because you have kids, think again! All this time, Mattix was a trooper in his stroller, just hanging out with his bottle, looking around. I really wanted to beg the airlines to let me leave him in his stroller for the flight, but I knew it was futile. I reluctantly handed it over right before we boarded and prepared for the storm.

I about started my own storm when I found out that I was on the far right side of the middle section, and Ed was in the middle seat of the left section (about three seats and one isle away). Not so much. We sort of remedied the problem when we switched one of our tickets with a travel mate’s, who was also separated from her spouse. That put them together, and left one seat in between Ed and I. Ed just took the middle seat. We figured that anyone who would actually insist on keeping their own seat in between the parents of a screaming infant would not be stable enough to be let on the flight anyway. We were correct. The woman gladly indicated to Ed that she would take the isle seat. Smart, smart woman.

They give you a silly lap belt to attach to your belt so that the baby is restrained. This part did not please Mattix at all, nor did it please us. Really, all that it would serve to do in an accident is allow the baby to be crushed by the parent’s body weight, or in the alternative, as one of our travel mate’s suggested, keep the baby strapped to your burning body. We were allowed to remove it during takeoff and never had to put it on during landing. Mattix was a champ, really, based on what we had expected. The hour and forty five minutes was definitely long for him (for the love of God, someone tell me how we’re going to make it home), but he never broke out into a full-on screaming fit. He drank his bottle for about 75% of takeoff and another 75% of landing to clear his ears, and only cried and whimpered for about 15 minutes total (but no intense screaming). At one point, we broke out the emergency teething biscuits, which kept him happy for almost 30 minutes. Said biscuits probably did not please the flight crew quite as much as they did Mattix, as the chair and floor (in addition to Ed) were covered in teething biscuit slop. Oh well. I made an executive decision; it’s easier for the flight crew to clean up teething biscuit slop than it is to listen to a screaming baby and/or complaining passengers.

We landed at the Hanoi airport and deplaned onto the tarmac, where we loaded into busses. We were all set for a long ride. Imagine our surprise when the bus literally stopped 20 seconds later. They drove us maybe the length of a quarter of a football field. It was a lot more trouble to get on and off the bus than it would have been to walk. I’m sure it was some sort of security measure, but I’m still slightly confused about that one. Our luggage came out (everyone’s made it!) and the guys loaded it onto the world’s smallest luggage carts. This is important because what happened in the parking lot was hilarious. It might not have been so funny if we weren’t all shot and exhausted, but we were, and so it was very funny. More on that in a minute. In Hanoi, they apparently check all of your bags with your claim tickets. If you have lost your claim tickets, you have to tell them what’s in your bag. They proceed to open it up and check the contents against your verbal list. Apparently, this isn’t like home, where you can take your bags and whomever the hell else’s bags you want and nobody noticed or cares, because they never check bags at home. Claim tickets at home are only good for toilet paper or if (I mean when) they loose your luggage. The line was long and apparently, it’s a free for all. I realized that if I didn’t get aggressive like everyone else, we were never going to get out of there. I stopped letting everyone push in front of me and stood my ground with little Mattix in his stroller. Even that cheap little stroller can serve as a weapon when needed. The woman who nearly knocked Mattix out with her should bag while shoving in front of us learned that the hard way. I’m pretty sure the bruises on her heels will remind her of that for a few days. It turns out the guy behind me wasn’t so thrilled with my stance (I wouldn’t let him past me), as he proceeded to shove his cart FULL of heavy luggage into the back of my legs multiple times. (I have war wounds. Really, the back of my legs are bruised.) At some point, I was certain I was going to end up in Vietnamese jail because I was going to turn around and beat the crap out of him. I sized him up and determined that he maybe weighed a buck ten soaking wet. I had him by a solid 20 pounds and three inches. Plus, Ed always says that in a fight, crazy accounts for about 50%. Well, there was plenty of crazy on my side. I was dying of some mystery illness, I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and done. I gave him one good warning donkey kick to the cart, which knocked him back a few inches, and that ended it. Good thing, ‘cause I’m not messing around. I was ready to rumble. I can see the headlines… “Big American woman lands in jail after fistfight with small local citizen.”

Back to the funny part. First, Ed lost every one of our bags on the way down the ramp to cross the street. All four big bags and two small bags went flying out into the street and into airport traffic. I started laughing so hard I couldn’t see straight. We were all scrambling to help him get it back on when Matt (another travel mate) did the same thing on the other side of the street with his cartful of luggage. So we all helped him. I think you had to be there but it was really funny. Hopefully none of our many fragile, breakable purchases shattered.

La  went and hired a bus driver to take us to the hotel. Bless La, because this was a full sized, air conditioned bus. The drive from the airport to the hotel is one hour, so I was worried about Mattix. He’s not keen on holding still during car rides. However, the bus had huge windows and he was quite pleased. He just sat in my lap for the first 40 minutes, staring out the window in awe, taking everything in, occasionally letting out an excited giggle or squeal. Furthermore, even better, the back of the seat in front of us had a handle on it, so he could stand in my lap, hold the seat handle, bounce up and down, and look out the window all at once. He was in heaven. Mattix is such an inquisitive, interested little guy. He loves to watch what’s going on and take it all in. I would love to know what goes on in his little (goose-egged) head. He just seems like he’s thinking about it all. His eyes follow whatever he’s watching and he has a very serious look on his face. When he does this, he seems like an adult, not a baby (not to worry – he reminds me of his baby status at naptime and bedtime and diaper blowout time). I think that in order to avoid the problem I see coming with strapping Mattix into a car seat in the Tahoe, I’m going to just trade it in for a bus with huge windows and no seatbelts. That should work for him. Who cares what state law and has to say about it. Safety? No worries.

About 20 minutes before we got to the hotel, he passed out in my lap. This was the very first time he’s ever fallen asleep in my arms so calmly. I’m sure it’s because he was just that exhausted, but it’s great nonetheless. Of course, he woke up before we even got upstairs to our hotel room, but still, baby steps. This hotel (Hanoi Hotel) is nicer by western standards than the Rex, but in the short time we’ve been here, it’s apparent that we like the Rex much, much better. The Rex is much more authentic Vietnam, with great service and very friendly people. Here, the rooms are nicer by western standards, but something’s definitely missing. Our room is on the 12th floor and overlooks the Honoi “Lake.” It has a bedroom with a full bath and a sitting room with a half bath. It actually has a real couch and chair (the two wooden chairs at the Rex were so uncomfortable that I spent all my time on the floor or bed), but I’m still not that into it here.

The weather in Hanoi is much cooler and less humid. I’m not good at judging temperatures, but it’s definitely cooler than and not as humid as Saigon. The traffic is horrible! I thought Saigon was crazy, but compared to Hanoi, it’s nothing. There’s more traffic here and even worse, they drive faster. I didn’t think it could possibly be any scarier to cross a street than it was in Hanoi, but I was wrong. I’m not sure that I’ll be crossing any streets here.

I know I said that I wouldn’t be ready to leave after just under two weeks, but I’m prepared to take that back. Today’s traveling made me ready to go home. If we could have just stayed in Saigon for another week, I’d be singing another song, but the packing, airports, plane ride, and pushiness tested my limits. Plus, Mattix’s face is covered in scabies, he’s teething, and his cold all seem to be worse. I just want to get him home and to the pediatrician. Medical care here, even at the international clinic, leaves something to be desired.

Mattix was, as usual, a little doll at bedtime. He gets so adorably giggly, playful, and sweet. I swear it’s his way of stalling. He knows how damn cute he is and how much it makes me want to roll around the bed with him, tossing him around, giggling, and making silly faces and noises. The boy plays rough. The more you throw him up and down, the better. He loves it when I lay on my back and hold him up over me, push him up and down, up and down. He’s like a human dumbbell, which is good, being that I haven’t set foot in a gym in well over two weeks. (At this point, my body has digested all of my lean muscle mass and it’s looking like a total loss.) He’s a little ball of giggling energy at bed time and in the morning, and I love it. What a great way to end and start each day. (It’s the part in between that we need to work on.)

And that’s all for today. Tomorrow we have our embassy interview so that we can get Mattix a Visa and then the water puppet show. I’m slightly skeptical about this water puppet show. What ten month old sits still and remains quiet for an hour long show? Wish us luck with that one.