Six Reasons You Are a Better Mom and I am.

(1) I was complaining to my mom that neither of my kids would take a pacifier. Complaining a lot. She mentioned – as in, told me a story, not made a suggestion – that in the “old” days, moms would dip pacis in Carrow’s Syrup or Molasses.  We don’t do Carrows, because I think Corn Syrup is the devil, especially high fructose corn syrup, despite what the Corn Refiners Association tries to bull shit me into believing with their nausea-inducing, you’ve-got-to-be fuc*king with me ”Sweet Surprise” commercials. Sweet surprise? Yeah, I see a lot of Sweet Surprises all around me, every frickin’ day. In the form of morbidly obese children. And P.S., don’t tell me we grew up on it and are just fine because my mom didn’t let us eat anything with that shit in it. And also? While I was in Ethiopia, I tasted real Coke (the drink, you guys) – and guess what? Coke made with cane sugar instead of HFCS is freaking delicious. HFCS tastes like liquid ass in comparison. But then I guess it’s good that Coke shoves a giant shovel up Americans’ asses and puts HFCS in it because if it had cane sugar, I’d drink about three a day like I did in Ethiopia and *I* would be morbidly obese. And then I couldn’t even blame HFCS. Never mind. Let’s just keep the HFCS in the Coke.  Although, if I walked around as sick as I was in Ethiopia, I’d just live off of Coke, like I did there, and I’d still lose weight. So yeah, now that I think about it, Coke should be made with cane sugar. Yet another way HFCS if screwing us – I don’t even consume it and I’m ten pounds fat. Freaking Sweet Surprise my ass.

Anyway, back to number one. Just had Ed open the stuck-closed jar of Molasses. Dipped the paci. Worked like a charm. I think if I do that like five or six times, maybe Molley will just take it on her own. Is it too late to get Mattix hooked, too? I mean, a paci in the mouth means peace and quiet, right? Then it occurred to me that eventually, I’ll have to get her off  of it. A little googling and I’m totally calm. I learned the trick for that is to dip the paci in whiskey or coffee. Because I don’t want CPS to come take my kids (even though the state of my house suggests maybe they should, and even though there were a few distinct times last week that I might have liked that), I won’t use whiskey. Coffee it is.

(2) I was unloading, bottle by bottle, the Menage a Trois (cabernet, pervs) out of the CASE I purchased last night and carrying them from the garage into the house. I may be able to work magic when it comes to wine, but even I can’t lift a full case with a baby strapped to my chest. No baby? I can carry two at a time. Easy. some people get superhuman strength in emergencies, like when  car is sitting on their kid. I get superhuman strength if wine is involved. Or Vodka.  But only the good stuff. Like Grey Goose. Anyway, as I was standing up with two bottles in each hand, I thought Molley was starting to slip out of the Ergo. Instinctively, I’d grab her and drop the bottles, right?  Wrong. Instincilvey, I set the bottles down first.

(3) Molley picked her head up to watch a little Olivia with Matty and I swear to God, I thought I might need a moment to myself. This kid wants to watch TV? At eight months? Rock N’ Roll. I’m going to unwrap all of those Baby Einstein videos I left in the plastic because Mattix scoffed at me. Then I’m gonna be able to spend all the money I would have had to pay to a babysitter on wine. Then I’m gonna be able to drink in the middle of the day while she’s watching TV. The quality of my life just improved tenfold.

(4) On Monday, my mom, Matty and I were eating lunch. Actually, my mom and Matty were eating lunch. Molley was having a bottle. I was staring longingly at my Greek salad, salivating like a dog. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Molley reached up and took her bottle. First time she’s done that. Any good adoptive mom would gently push her hands away. Me? I totally slammed down five bites before I reclaimed that bad boy. Then I may or may not have had her do it again for a few more bites.

(5) I’m typing this with Molley in the carrier and her bottle held in her mouth with my chin. Swear. You should try it. Use a small bottle, though, not a big one, esp. if you have a big head like me. Otherwise, your kid will have to push their head way back, and I’m all about baby’s comfort. Small bottle = perfect distance.

(6) Molley and I had our best bonding time yet Tuesday evening on the tennis court. True story. We giggled and loved on each other and had a great time. Our friends Kedra and Kimberly were playing while Mommy (that’s me) chugged sipped a Goose and tonic out of a giant, plastic water bottle with a plastic straw so our HOA nazis didn’t write my ass up and threaten to lean our house  for violating the no booze in common places rule. (P.S. Go for it  and p.p.s. Good luck. Our house is worth $hit compared to what we purchased it for. Keep on sending me those letters about our “black Tahoe in the driveway.” Suck on it.) Anyway, as I was saying, Kedra and Kimberly were playing tennis and Molley and I sat on the sidelines, enjoying our together time. This really was the best bonding time since we got home. We were out of the house, free of distractions, like cockroach covered filth and laundry. In fact, even the flying balls didn’t phase me, thankyouverymuch Grey Goose. I actually caught a dangerous one with my left hand (I’m right handed) and didn’t even flinch. I figured if I got nailed, you’re all relaxed when you’re drunk tired.  And babies are like rubber, right? Mattix and Ed (and Kimberly’s hubby, Nick)  eventually joined us. But anyway, best bonding time yet. Did I mention that clear liquid gold (Vodka) is the best bonding tool ever?

Molley, chilling on the beach towels on the court:

And now, just because I’m posting photos, here’s one of Matty, running SOOO fast! It’s blurry, but I just love the way he holds his arms out when he’s running at full speed:

And finally, I may be the world’s worst mom, but I’m the world’s best friend. I extracted *this* with my keys and my bare hands:

(That’s a jumping cactus, FYI)

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So, did I make you feel better about yourselves?!

And Bipolar was her name, O! And my awards!

I’m pretty sure I’m officially bipolar at this point. I went from having a great weekend and a great morning (despite spending THREE and a HALF HOURS a the ped’s office) to crying in the corner. Okay, not in the corner, but in the car. While driving. Have I mentioned how much I love Matty? He actually said, from the BACKSEAT (and I wasn’t loudly sobbing at all, for goodness sakes, because I never cry and when I do, I’m pretty good at controlling it), “Mommy! Mommy! It okay!”

The good news I was hoping for – the good news that ain’t comin’ – is that we wouldn’t have to move. It looked like there was a very good chance we were going to be able to stay put. You know what sucks? I’m actually more heartbroken now, after thinking we might get to stay after thinking we had to move, than I was when we first learned we had to move. And I was devastated then. So I’m pretty much going to go back to the corner to curl up into the fetal position and rock when I finish this post.

I’m kidding, of course. This is life, and I’ll say what I always say: it could be worse. Ed and I actually semi-planned, and definitely knew we’d keep it as an option,  to move at some point. We know that this probably isn’t the best place to raise our kiddos b/c of the lack of diversity, and had agreed that we’d pack it up and move to DC if it’s what was best for our family…in five or six YEARS. YEARS. Five or six of them. Not months. Not one or two of them. Not now, not when I have an eight month old and a two year old. Not when I need my family and my friends. Not when we cannot sell our house that is worth six figures LESS than we paid for it, thankyouverymuch shitty economy, nor can we rent it because half of the neighborhood is up for rent. And we happen to plan to move to a little bubble in the middle of a crappy economy where things are nearly as expensive as always (and way, way more expensive than where we live). Anyway, there’s a lot for us to figure out in a short period of time. It will all work out. We’re fortunate Ed got a great job in the midst of all this crap, we’re fortunate to have health insurance again, and we’re fortunate to be moving to one of the TWO places in the entire country I said I’d consider living if or when I moved away from my family. (Not DC, but the other.) So, all’s well that end’s well. I just have to get to that end part – where I’m moved into a new place, with all of our stuff, away from my family, with both wrists intact, to see that it ends well. Know what I mean? Everything’s gonna be alright, still, but just not right now.

I got Molley to nap for 45 minutes during Matty’s nap. Rock N’ Roll! Unfortunately, Mattix woke up very, very upset. He’s done it every day now for over a week. Maybe we’re seeing a little of the upset from being left for two weeks while we were in Ethiopia. We’ve worked very hard on Matty’s sensory issues and have all but taken care of them, but every once in a while, I can really see them when he wakes up before he wants to wake up. There’s grumpy…and then there’s an inability to self-regulate. I probably cannot describe it. For months after we were home, he woke up just like this every single time he woke up. And he woke up a lot – like 15 times a night.  When he first started to nap, he woke up like this from every. single. nap. Then it got better and better, and with OT, we were down to once a month. So, this past week has been tough. It’s very hard as a mom to have your baby experiencing trauma that he cannot explain and I cannot fix. Now that he is much more verbal, he cries, “Come here, Mommy!” in a very desperate voice. I run to his room, but even after I’m holding him, he just cannot calm down for some time. He usually repeats, “Peezee, Mommy.” But I don’t know what he’s trying to say or get me to do. He doesn’t really know, either. I often wonder if he’s having memories of his time before us. That time was very, very terrible. I hope that’s not the case. I wish he could forget that time. At least for now, while he’s so little. It makes me feel very helpless and sad. Hmmm…a recurring theme lately.

Thank goodness for Kedra. Mattix woke up traumatized, Molley was already screaming, and so I had to screaming babies – one on each hip – and I was losing it! My broken rib side, where I put Molley b/c she’s smaller, was starting to cry, too! And Matty wanted to be completely wrapped around me. I called Kedra and she came and took Molley from me so that I could calm Mattix. She offered him chocolate and it certainly helped. I do worry about Molley’s attachment b/c she is getting “passed” a bit more than I’d like, but I do think we’ll be okay in the long run.

Kedra went to dinner with us b/c the idea of sitting home with the kids tonight was too much, shared ice cream with Matty, and then…the girl is crazy…went to Walmart with us. Yikes. I hate to admit that my kids and I totally fit in. Molley puked everywhere two or three times – like everywhere, all over the floor, all over herself, all over Kedra (because she was holding her) and Mattix wouldn’t quit yelling for my attention when he wanted something. Yelling. The real highlight came when I got a SHARD OF GLASS lodged in my finger. Wait for this. Somehow, a shard of glass ended up on…seriously, wait for this…the bottle of Diet Tonic water that Kedra made me get so I would come home and drink Vodka tonics instead of doing straight up shots. Kidding. Sort of.  (Didn’t end up drinking anything at all. Now I’m really pissed about the glass situation.)

How in the world does a shard of glass get stuck to a soda bottle, then get lodged in my finger? I had to use my nails on my left fingers to extract it form my right middle finger. It took five full minutes and it hurt!  Then it bled like crazy. I was all, “Motherfuc*er, I’m gonna get Hep C! I’m bleeding to death. Call 9-1-1.  I’m gonna own this place” and Kedra was all, “First off, it’s a shard of glass, not a dirty needle. Second, do you really wanna own this place? And third, you haven’t even soaked one wet wipe with blood. I feel like you’re not going to bleed to death at that rate.” Whatever. I think she’d be singing a different song if she were the one who contracted Hep C from Wally World.

Oh, before I forget, Molley’s appointment went very, very well. All of the labs that came back were jut perfect – HIV (so, HIV neg), CBC, TSH, T3, and a few others. In fact, based on some of the results, our pediatrician felt very confident that Molley’s malnutrition did not affect her brain development. She determined this because she said that if it were severe enough to adversely affect brain development, it would also show up in (some organ – cannot remember) and that everything was fine in that respect. What a relief.

My girls is now 27.5 inches long and weighs 14 pounds, 12 ounces. Woo hoo! Up almost two pounds in three weeks. We’re doing great with the amount of formula she is getting and we can continue to add Step 1 Baby food, as we’ve been doing for a few days. I thicken it with rice cereal, which is just filler, but I’m hoping to fix the liquid fountain of $hit situation. Three blowouts in an hour this morning. One of them ruined her new fancy swing. I know this because I washed it. Twice. With serious stain remover and detergent. Anyway, I’m over it. I want it to stop. That was after a double projectile vomiting all over my bedding at 5:30 this morning, right after she woke up. We started the day off like champs.

Molley got her first (and only) shot today: a DPT. We’ve chosen to re-vaccinate instead of titer. There are a few reasons and if anyone cares, I’ll share them. We did not do this for Mattix for very good reasons. But this situation is different. However, I’m only giving her one vaccine at a time and waiting at least two weeks between each vaccine. At this rate, we’ll be living at Children’s, but oh well. More chances to pick up Swine Flu.  AND Molley had a TB test. She didn’t cry during either the test or the vaccine. Started to let out a yell, but then it was over and she quit!  She nuzzled her little head into my chest and let me comfort her.

Mattix was a rock star, too! Hep A and a TB test and not a cry. He got PISSED at the end of the Hep A, but again, it was over just as he got good and annoyed so he let it go. I told him he could go pick out a sticker while Molley took her turn and he was outta there. Thank goodness my mom came today. She is such a huge help. She kept Matty outside and entertained during our nearly hour and a half at the lab. Hopefully, this was the last set of labs for Ms. Molley. It only took two veins today.

I’m still crazy paranoid about the swine flu. We spent 3.5 hours at Children’s Hospital today and I promise you, if there’s an outbreak in my state, Children’s will be the epicenter. I bathed in hand sanitizer every three minutes and did the same with Matty and Molley. Good thing my Bug is OCD. It got so bad HE started beating me to the punch and was asking for “more san-ee-ti-za” before I even offered it. Also? Good thing I had the death flu already, otherwise, I’d be sure I had the swine flu and I’d totally lose my shit. I mean, I had all the symptoms. And? As if living in a border state isn’t enough, Ed flew to and from California today. I was all, “Try not to breath much on the plane. Don’t touch your face or your mouth. Wash your hands. Lots of sanitizer. If you’re near anyone who coughs, move away immediately.” He may or may not have consulted a divorce attorney at some point today.

Finally, I was given a few blog awards by bloggers I adore, respect, and admire. I have to list them. I’m going to be a total loser and not follow through with nominating other bloggers, only because I’m tired as hell and I’m a piece of crap blogging friend right now. I can say this in all honesty – I would give it to every last person who has been so supportive through emails, phone calls, and comments on my whiny, pathetic posts – since we came home. You guys are incredible. Here they are:

J  gave me the Lemonade Award. J knows me. She made mention of the “hard” version of Lemonade. If only. Thank you so much, J! You know how much I appreciate your perspective on all of the tough stuff as well as your support.   And as if that wasn’t cool enough, Tracy, who I’ve more or less been blog stalking (which started out as a Yahoo stalking situation from one of the groups) for two years, nominated me for the same award. I have a tremendous amount of respect for Tracy. It would take a while to go through it all, but if you know her, you know what I mean.

 “You have been nominated for your Great Attitude and/or Sincere Gratitude you have shown through your adoption journey!”

Here are the rules…

1. Put the logo on your blog or post.

2. Nominate at least 10 blogs that show attitude and/or gratitude.

3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.

4. Let them know they have received this award by commenting on a post.

5. Nominate your favorites and link to this blog.

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I already blew the rules. But I explained that one. Thank you so much, girls! I fee like I’m not making lemonade lately, but rather just drowning in sour lemon juice. Or whining that it’s burning the spots where I tried to slit my wrists. Kidding, of course. Truly – thank you!

Kelly gave me the Friends Award, which is just awesome that anybody even wants to be my friend at this point. Wait, she gave this to me three weeks ago. Anyway. I appreciate it! If Kelly wants to be your friends, you’re pretty much a great person. So, by default, I’m a great person.

Now, my instructions, to pass this honor on to eight other bloggers  Per the rules: these blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbon of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

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Again, I suck. I’m sorry. I’m so tired my eyes are tearing like Molley’s do, only hers are a result of clogged tear ducts, and mine are exhaustion. I slept for three hours Sunday night. I’ve got to do better tonight.

I listed these awards so you guys would totally have this picture of me as a great person in your heads before you read the post I’m putting up tomorrow on attachment. ‘Cause that’s going to make you think I’m a total piece of $hit mom. Well, a bigger total piece of $hit mom than you probably already think I am. However, I know that there’s got to be ONE, just one, person who feels similarly. And maybe you’ll feel a little better than you’re not the only piece of $hit, but rather one half of the $hit mother sandwich. Please don’t judge too harshly. I’m tired and beat down. And sad. I’ll put it up tomorrow night.

Thanks again, ladies, and thanks to everyone who actually finished reading this crap!

Everything’s Gonna Be Alright**

(WP sucks. It ate my entire 1500 word post. Bite me, WP. You’re taunting me, aren’t you? Just wait ’til I switch to Blogger. Then who’s gonna be laughing?!)

Ed came home on Friday night around 9:00. I was on my next door neighbor/really good friend Kedra’s  back patio, drinking wine and relaxing. Because Molley doesn’t really go to bed, but rather falls asleep on her own time, Matty’s bed time has been pushed waaaaay back. Whatev. I’m in survival mode. We go with the flow. Actually, if I had known (before Molley) that consisently putting Mattix to bed at 9:30 meant he was going to sleep until 7:30, but not mess with anything else, I would have done this a LONG time ago. I’m all about the late nights/late mornings. And? He has been sleeping for longer stretches at night now that he’s going to be later! So far, he’s totally into it, too. Bummer for ME that Molley’s into the late night/EARLY mornings. Oh well. In the past, on the rare occasion Mattix was up past his bedtime, he still woke up super early. However, it appears that with consistently late bed times, he digs consistently late (and late around here is 7:30) wake ups. If I’d only known…

Anyway, Ed came home and Mattix was stoked. I love seeing how happy Matty is to see his daddy. He was just thrilled.  My baby loves his daddy and it warms my heart to see the two of them together. They have such a special relationship. Mattix got super wound up because he was so excited, yet he went right to bed at 9:30 when Ed put him down. Molley fell asleep in Ed’s arms with a bottle. That seems to be what’s best for her right now. No rocking or trying to intentionally put her to bed. Just letting her chill and finally fall asleep when she’s too tired to actually keep her eyes open. As tome point, even fighting the sand man doesn’t result in victory. I’m really learning that just because both of my children came from orphanages doesn’t mean that they both need to be treated the same. I know that sounds really stupid, but in my mind, all adopted kids need the same thing. So not true. I’ll figure this out one day.

Anyway, Saturday morning, after I woke up at 8:30, ALONE in my bed in peace and quiet b/c Ed slept in the guest room with two baby monitors so I could get some rest, I decided a little solo time was in order. Here’s the deal with me. I need my alone time. I love being a mom, but by far, the hardest part is losing every bit of my “me” time. (That’s why nap time became so important to me, but now that it’s gone, I’m a little lost). I’m a very independent person. I have friends that *need* their spouses or significant others, that don’t like to be left alone, that need them around all the time. That’s all well and good for them, but for me, I like a little time completley to myself. I’m very social and I’m very into my husband, friends, and family, but I’m also independent. So having one, and now two, littles dependent on me is not always easy for me. I need a little time, even if it’s surrounded by my friends or family, where nobody is *hanging* one me. Does that make sense? I realize I’m probably not a normal girl, but this is what makes me, me!

I woke up and hung out in my room, ALONE, for almost an hour. Loved it. When I decided I was ready to face the chaos that is my life, I was greeted by my adorable little two year old. Love him so much. The way he says, “Mommy!” just about does me in every time. Molley was also happy to see me. Too happy. She no longer wanted anything to do with Ed once she spotted me. I told Ed he’d have to make it work and I handled a lot of the crap I didn’t have a chance to deal with while I was flying solo this week, like the nearly months worth of mail that had been piling up since the day before we left for Ethiopia, bills, and a few phone calls. Then I was outta here! I went to lunch, sans kiddos, with two friends, and afterwards, we went for pedicures and manicures. HEAVEN. My toenails looked like something out of a horror film. It was almost embarrassing. I actually cannot remember the last time they were deal with properly. This girl who religiously had bi-monthly pedicures before becoming a mom was sporting a horrendous mess. All’s right in the world now.

When I came home, I swear to you, my new baby girl acted like I’d been gone a month. I needed to be away from both kids to reset after the week I had, but Molley’s reaction when I walked in the door? Way better than I could have anticipated. She switched between looking into my eyes and giggling out loud (the most laughing I’ve heard from her since meeting her) and nuzzling her sweet little face into my chest and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. She did that for ten solid minutes. Giggles and hugs. I think I fell more in love with her in that 10 minutes than I have in the past week. She really makes me smile. She’s a gift.

Ed made Claypot salmon for dinner and Kedra and I died and went to heaven. I’m telling you – my hubby can cook Vietnamese food that almost tastes authentic. A few of his dishes are just as good as the food we had in Vietnam. I’m lucky! I’d be really lucky if I lost a pound a day while pigging out like I did in Vietnam. But we can’t have it all, can we?!?!

Molley once again fell asleep in Ed’s arms when she was ready. And wait for this. She slept until 7:30 this morning. That’s right – 9:30 p.m. until 7:30 a.m. STRAIGHT! How lucky is Ed (because he was on duty)?!?! Okay, how lucky am I? I slept until…and this is embarrassing…11:00 a.m. In my defense, at 4:00 a.m., after coughing for four straight hours and nearly dying form the pain of my broken ass rib, I took two shots (or two teaspoons, but shots sounds way more exciting, doesn’t it?) of cough syrup with codeine. Then it was lights out until 11:00. Am I the only one who reacts this way to narcotics? Been this way my whole life. Kedra told me she polished off an entire bottle of the same cough syrup last time she was really sick. Me? You can barely tell I’ve hit my bottle! I’m just so sensitive to narcotics.

Today was equally great. Kedra and I hung out with another friend who is moving soon, then went to lunch. Um, hint for anyone with a baby that wants to sit up for a fair length of time, but cannot: Boppy in the high chair! My life got 100 times better today, when I was able to enjoy my chips and salsa and fajitas with Molley in a high chair. I buckled her in, then put the Boppy securely around her. She loved it even more than I did. She would sit up until she got too tired, then she’s lean back and chill against the Boppy.  I swear, Molley never stopped smiling for the hour I shoved chips and salsa into my mouth and gabbed. In fact, she blabbered along with me and polished off a jar of baby bananas. A girl after my own heart, huh?!

I’m so glad Ed was here this weekend. He is just laid back enough to handle the things that stress me out. He lounged around with Molley and gave her the attention she needed while I ran around and got tons of stuff done in the house. (He took care of the yard earlier in the day.) I think I’m down to only four loads of laundry remaining after working like a madwoman today and doing at least eight. Our couches may be covered with tons of clean clothes in various states of folding, but that’s better than the laundry room floor, right?! Ed can let Molley fall asleep on his lap and be okay with sitting there while she naps for 20 minutes. Me? I want to put her in bed so I can get stuff done while she sleep. Except she wakes right back up. That’s the difference between Ed and me! (And maybe the difference between a lot of men and women.) As much as I’d like to say my way is the right way, Molley needs what Ed can give her.

Ed made a wonderful lemongrass chicken dinner, we enjoyed company, Matty went to bed late again, Molley passed out in his arms around 9:30, and I can say with absolute certainty that tonight was perfect. I can’t wait until Ed starts cooking Ethiopian food with the same skill he cooks Vietnamese.

It’s now 1:30 in the morning, so I’d better get some rest. I realize the chances of Molley sleeping until 7:30 tomorrow are slim to none, especially because I’m on morning duty. Ed leaves for the airport at 5:30 a.m. We have a BIG pediatrician appointment tomorrow morning. My mom is going to help, because both kids are being seen. We have a LOT to address with Molley, plus a few things with Matty, including the TB test that was never done b/c he was given a BCG vaccine. However, after what I learned, I’m just kicking myself for not researching further. Anyway, let’s just pray his TB test is negative so I can say lesson learned, but no harm.

ALSO! We might have some really, really good news that will make everything in my life just perfect right now. We should know by Wednesday. I’m not going to write it, because I don’t want to jinx it, but please keep your fingers crossed that this works out for us. It would truly be a blessing.

And P.S. Is anybody else freaking out about the swine flu? Maybe it’s just because we live in a border state (and I’m a worrier), but I’m a total basket case.

**Bob Marley. Song title for blog post idea jacked from LawMommy. Sorry. In my defense, it’s been going through my head all day long. Plus? I have Bob Marley in my head b/c I can’t stop thinking about the Shashamane, where Molley was born, and where there’s a huge Rastafarian population. In fact, I really thought about it today, when I kept smelling the pot soaked blanket (and other items) we bought there. Love it. Not the pot smell, ’cause that ain’t my bag, baby (he he he), butt he memories it invokes. I already want to go back to Ethiopia the way I wanted to go back to Vietnam right after we got home (and still do). I’m so fortunate to experience what I have because of my children.

Getting better and our Travel Journal

Today was a better day. Not perfect, because perfect days take a while to happen, but much better. I was far more relaxed, and so Molley was, too, as a result. She took two naps (I had to wake her from the second) and fell asleep after just 45 minutes tonight (at 9:00 p.m.) Lots more happened, but I’m too tired to write about it and let’s be honest, do you really want to read it all?

I think I might need to go back to the doctor, as I’m not getting any better. I’m 99% certain I cracked a rib today from a coughing fit that wouldn’t end. I’ve done that twice before, so I know what it feels like. (It doesn’t feel good.)

I still appreciate all of your advice, comments, and encouragement. I’m always open to anything you have to offer. I’m grateful for friends – real life and blogging – and all of the support they offer. I’m very lucky.

I’m also very lucky to have two children who are amazing, a great husband (who is not having an easy time himself, being away from his kids after just getting home, and having the stress of a new, high pressure job, even though he’s sleeping through the night in a Heavenly Bed, but that last part is just jealousy talking), and my family. My mom came over an hour ago, well after the kids were in bed, so that she could be the one to wake up with Molley tonight and tomorrow morning when she does her 5:00 a.m. wake up.

When things are difficult, like they are now, I need to appreciate all of the great things. And I also need to remember what I said while we were in Ethiopia, over and over: I really have nothing to bitch about. When I explained to someone there who we got to know that I needed a soda for a low blood sugar, and he realized I was a Type I diabetic, the look in his eyes and the sadness in his voice when he said, “Oh no. I’m so sorry,” pretty much covered it. I have a lot for which to be grateful, and the fact that I get to live a semi-normal (what’s normal, anyway?) life with the things that I have as opposed to dying, as so many people in third world countries do, is pretty darn significant.

I have so much to write about from our experience. It was an incredible one. I’ll begin working on that over the weekend, in addition to the TB post I want to write.

I’ve taken the password off of our travel journal. You can find it by clicking HERE. I still have a few posts to upload and I also have to add all of our photos. We were on dial-up, so I was quite happy about just being able to get the posts up. I will go back and add photos over the next few days.

I also kept a blog after we rec’d Molley’s referral. You can find that by clicking HERE.

Here are a few photos from our trip:

Our first night with Molley:

One of the nannies with Molley. We went to visit the orphanage where she’d live for a few months. She had not been there for over a month, yet all of the nannies remembered her name and she clearly remembered them. This woman was particularly happy to see her. It was then that I began to have a little faith in agencies and orphanage care. It’s nice to know that the nannies really did care about your child.

Ethiopia has some of the coolest trees EVER

A few shots from Shashamene, the town where Molley was born

 

Passed out in the van, after we visited Molley’s birth town and learned more information about her history. (BTW, she is wearing the fourth of NINE outfits from the day, thanks to blowouts. We actually had to borrow one outfit from our travel companions, so for a brief period, she was rocking the blue boy’s clothes.)

That’s it for today. Cough syrup is starting to work its magic, so the bed is calling me. Thank you again. I have so much I feel like I need to get out about our experience, so be warned.

The post where I stop whining and do a little self reflecting (and PHOTOS!)

Okay. This is probably going to be another long one…or as long as it takes for the cough syrup with Codeine to kick in.

You guys are amazing. I mean that. It started with Kelley talking me off the ledge early this morning when she called me, then continued all day, as I read your comments and emails as you left them.  The advice in the comments and the very personal emails three of you sent me are priceless. I totally get why I’ve kept blogging – because without this support, I’d be drinking the entire bottle of cough syrup with Codeine, then chasing it with a bottle of wine. I just wish I could convey how appreciative I am.  I re-read everything two more times before I started writing this.

So, here’s the deal. After Molley woke up for good at 4:30 a.m. today and we had our total ass fest blow out all over her entire room, I was ready to go out into the garage, fire up the old Tahoe, and let ‘er run, if you know what I mean. I’m not good at bodily fluids, but I’ve gotten so used to this that I don’t even gag. HOWEVER, it causes me a lot of stress. I haven’t even done the laundry from our trip yet, and I know for a fact that over the course of the past six days, I’ve done 30 loads of laundry. Most of them small, but still. My house is foul. There’s stuff EVERYWHERE. One of my OCD issues quirks is that I require order. I like an organized, clean house. As much I would love to take that to an extreme, I don’t. I prioritize family living over absolute spotlessness without a doubt, but there’s a big difference between absolute spotlessness and the shit hole this place is right now. That’s compounding my stress. (This is all going somewhere.)

In fact, here’s a little story for you. On Tuesday, I’d finally gotten Molley down for a nap, and Mattix was on the tail end of his. I decided to seize the opportunity and catch 20 minutes myself. I’d just gotten into a good sleep when the doorbell rang. I hauled myself downstairs, flung it open (how dumb is that – I was half asleep and didn’t even look through the peephole), and was greeted by our pest man. I was all, “Dude, we just got back from Africa. I’m dying. Can you come back next week?” He took one look at me, looked past me into the house, and breathed a sigh of relief. I mean, this guy deals with pests and rodents and I think he was intimidated. Okay, so Tuesday night, our friend Kimberly carried Molley over to my house for me. Kedra lives right next store and we’d been at her house, and Molley fell asleep in Kimberly’s arms. So, she’s never been in my house because she’s a “newer” friend, and the first time she comes in, it truly looks like our house was tossed and robbed. And I shit you not, a fu*$king COCKROACH goes running across the floor. In the FOUR YEARS we’ve owned this house, we’ve NEVER had one single cockroach in our house. Outside near the fountain, I’ve found a few, but NEVER in my house. I could have died. I was all trying to explain that there was shit everywhere, but it wasn’t actually dirty in that sense and she was so sweet and nice, but seriously? Should have let Orlando do his thing, huh? (Worst part is it got away and then surprised me this morning. I’m not so sure it was the Lysol that actually killed it, but rather the drowning. I used half a can of Lysol on that little bitch and he bit it, right in the middle of the living room.) Anyway, that was embarrassing.

So, back tot he point. I warned you this was going to be long (and I’m just starting to barely feel the codeine kicking in, so I’ve got a good 20 minutes. I’m a really fast typist, so you’ve been warned.) The day started off stressful and just kept right up. Mattix didn’t wake up until 7:30. This is some higher power giving me the double middle finger. Before we left for Ethiopia, Matty was back to his “summer schedule” of waking up by or well before 6:00 a.m. Now that I have to be up at 4:30 or 5:00 a.m. for Molley, he’s all sleeping in, taking his sweet time to wake up. that’s just how it works, right? Anyway, Mattix woke up and we hung out with him for a while. Around 9:30, I decided that Molley should sleep. She was so exhausted. After All, she only slept last night from 9:00 to 4:30. I spent an hour trying to get her down and she finally fell asleep…for TWENTY MINUTES. She woke up after another ass-plostion. Cleaned that up, started my third load of laundry for the day, then decided she needed a bath. She LOVED it. It’s the first bath she’s taken in the kid’s bathroom, where I have a little bathtub in the bathtub. I have a huge drowning paranoia, and even though I never leave the bathroom when Matty takes a bath (which is rare, because he’s always getting in the shower with Ed or me), I feel better having him in a smaller tub in the big tub. This smaller tub has one side for younger babies where they kind of lounge backwards, but don’t lie down. She had the best time ever. She splashed in there for 20 minutes and cried when I took her out. Then she let me deep condition her hair with the best product ever (Carol’s Daughter Tui Hair Smoothie) and rinse it out in the sink (because it’s not tear-free and I didn’t want it to run into her eyes). Then, Matty insisted, “My turn, bath, peeze!” so he took a bath for so long the water got cold. Then he let me deep condition HIS hair with my Aveda damage condition. His little head of thin hair gets so dry that it needs it every once in a while. I love the way it smells! Anyway, things were going really well and I was feeling calmer.

And then I blew it. Kedra called me to tell me she had a few errands to run and a client to see. She’s in sales and works from home. So does Kimberly. Kedra said that if I wanted her to take Matty for me, she was going to invite Kimberly along, they could have lunch, and then Kimberly could hang in the car with Mattix while Kedra ran in to see her client. Have I mentioned how awesome my friends are? Mattix LOVES his “Deda” and he’s quickly falling in love with “Kimmie.” He was SO excited to go. Instead of just hanging out and chilling, I spent the entire 2.5 hours they were gone trying to put Molley to sleep.

What. the. hell.?

by the time they came back, I was a frazzled, stressed out mess. I actually left her in her crib when I ran downstairs to open the garage door to bring Mattix in, and in the five minutes I was down there, Molley passed out. Mattix was exhausted, so he went down for his nap. I then went to sleep for over two hours until Matty woke up. I finally woke Molley up after three hours, just because she’s sleeping too long late in the day.

We all played downstairs for a while, Molley had her bajillionth bottle and subsequent blowout of the day, and Mattix ate leftover chicken and rice from last night (again, how amazing are my friends?). That’s about when I started to realize I needed to do some self-analysis. I called my mom and asked her if she could spend the night so I could sleep through the night tonight. Believe it or not, I never went to bed last night. When I took my nap today, I’d been up for 30 hours straight. My mom was with my grandfather, but was of course more than willing to help. By then, it was 8:00 and nobody was lookin’ too tired. I decided that if nobody was tired, nobody was going to bed. Kedra called and asked if I needed help. And I said YES! I cannot live with the mess, and it’s going to take a while to clean it up, but I can chip away here and there. For 45 minutes, she carried Molley around and played with Mattix. They went for a walk outside, just up and down the street in front of our houses, made the grasshoppers jump over and over, which pleased Matty to no end, and hung out. Molley started freaking out as soon as Kedra took him, but Kedra told me not to stress about it. In fact, that’s when they went outside. For not having kids yet, Kedra is amazing. (She’s halfway through her foster care licensing classes, by the way. I couldn’t be happier.)

I was able to run around for 45 minutes and just get a few things done that were really adding to my stress. At the end, I felt totally good about things and much more relaxed. I realize that allowing other people to hold Molley and comfort her may not be the ideal, but right now, for the next few weeks, and until I’m not so sick, we’re going to have to make it work. The medication I’ve been on for over 48 hours isn’t working and I’m getting sicker. I actually pulled a muscle in my side today coughing. I’m not complaining; I’m just saying that until I’m back to healthy, I’m going to just do the best I can, and if that means more than one person meeting Molley’s needs for a few weeks, so be it.

My mom arrived around 9:30. By then, Molley was starting to get tired. She fed and rocked Molley while I put Matty to bed, which is the EASIEST thing ever and takes no time. I just wanted to hang out with him for a bit. I’m not sure I’ve talked about it, but Mattix has been the easiest kid in the world to put to bed for quite some time now. He didn’t start sleeping through the night until maybe three months ago, but for probably six months, he’s been a dream to put to sleep. We literally just put him in his jammies, brush his teeth, read one story, talk and be silly for five minutes, then in the crib he goes. That’s it. He’s as happy as a clam. He takes a baby bottle of water (finally got him off the milk at bedtime, but he’s not ready to give up the bottle yet). Depending on how tired he is, sometimes it takes him an hour to fall asleep, sometimes it takes five minutes. When it takes longer, he has all sorts of funny conversations and even sings, but never gets upset. We’re so lucky in that respect. For all the sleep hell we went through with him, I’ve yet to meet a kid that is so happy to go to bed. That’s the main reason he’s going to sleep in his crib until it dawns on him that he is entirely capable of climbing out. I don’t care if that doesn’t happen until he’s ten!  He loves his crib. He’s so darn small that he has plenty of room, ever since he stopped sleeping so fitfully. Remember back when he had to sleep on his floor that we lined with eight body pillows because he threw himself around so much???? Hard to believe, huh? Anyway, I don’t see any reason to mess with a good thing, so as long as he’s happy in the crib, the crib it is.

So, after all of that, I sat down, read all of your comments and emails, and did a lot of thinking. I came to the conclusion that yes, this is stressful and this is hard, but the fact of the matter is that **I** am adding significantly to the stress. I realize that now. Before Mattix came home, I mentally committed myself to doing whatever he needed. It was a rough, rough six months. He slept less than eight hours a night, all interrupted sleep, and didn’t take naps. I didn’t push anything on him. I figured he’d take a nap when he really needed one. Took six months, but hey, he naps, right? He would literally get so tired that he’d fall asleep in the middle of crawling across the floor. Then he’d sleep for ten minutes, wake up in a total panic, and scream for an hour. It’s okay – I went with it.

So I asked myself, “Why the hell am I pushing this on Molley?” And I knew the answer right away. Because Mattix’s nap time because MY time – time that I really, really need. Ed has traveled a lot over the past year. Most (I know not all, but most) stay at home moms have the end of the day to look forward to. Maybe not even every day, but at least some days. Maybe not until 6:00 or 7:000 p.m., but it still comes. For me, the end of the day came at Matty’s bedtime, and it started when he’d wake up at 5:00 a.m.  I did that for a long time. And then when he was finally ready to nap, I was in heaven. I had two hours to myself during the day. After he’d been napping for a few months, I started really trying to set those two hours aside for me. Unless something super pressing had to be done (like making phone calls I couldn’t make while Matty was awake), I did whatever I wanted: took a nap, sat and stared at the wall (not even kidding), watched television, showered. Whatever I did, it was MY time. After what we went through with Matttix, I needed that time. I literally gave up everything having to do with me to make it work for him for the first six-ish months he was home. I’m not being all martyr-ish or anything at all, so please don’t take it that way. It’s just a fact. I never felt like I as a great, selfless person. I simply felt like I was fulfilling the commitment I made when we decided to parent him. I stopped going to the gym, I stopped sleeping, I stopped taking care of my health – because I wanted him to be okay. It was sooo worth it. What’s six months of my life and a fat ass for a kid who is going to be okay, you know?

So then Molley came, and I’m used to doing things a certain way. And I’m in “mommy mode,” something I didn’t even comprehend before Mattix, and I’m feeling like she needs her naps because she’s exhausted and she needs a routine and she needs this and that? What the f*ck? She needs what she needs and SHE will let ME know what that is. Right now, she wants to be held, she doesn’t want to sleep during the day, she wants to go to bed late and wake up early, and she has to shit her brains out all over the place, all day long. She doesn’t WANT the last thing, but it comes with the package for now, right?

So, that’s what she’ll get. I just needed to reset my mentality and look at myself and what **I** was doing. I also needed to step back and realize that the situation is different than when Matty first came home, as you reminded me.  This is whole different kid with a whole different set of circumstances. Totally different ones, and of course she has her own set of issues and stresses that matter, but if I’m being honest, we’re about six months ahead of where we were with Mattix upon his homecoming. This little baby girl probably didn’t bond with any one caretaker because she was moved around too frequently, but she was shown kindness, love, and attention. She had toys to play with and was taken outside. She isn’t suffering from abuse, neglect, a total lack of sensory development, and one other MAJOR thing that Mattix had to deal with. She is in a place where she’s ready to begin bonding. It took me MONTHS to get Mattix to a place where he was even mildly interested in having me around.

I’m not comparing my kids or thinking one is better or has it easier. I’m simply realizing that their drastically different circumstances means I can handle things differently. Until I’m feeling better, I’m going to stop freaking out about accepting a little help with Molley. So my mom spends the night a few times a week and gets up with her. Great? No. But the end of the world? Probably not. And I’m recalling what Mattix’s pediatrician said to me when I was about to lose my shit because I was so sleep deprived: “Is it the worst thing in the world if he also bonds with his grandma?” And man, was she right. Matty loves my mom like nobody’s business. And yet he still knows and loves his mommy and daddy. And he prefers us.  We didn’t let my mom help for a few months, but considering where Matty started, it was very, very, very, early in our bonding process. And I’d say he’s doing okay. So this might confuse Molley a little, and maybe it might even add to the time it takes her to attach securely, but will she still attach? I’m almost certain. I’m committed. We’ll make it work.

So, I’m taking my issues, my selfish want for Molley to nap, and my way of doing things out of the equation. From now on, we’re doing it Molley style, within reason b/c I also have Matty. That alone is going to cut my stress level in half.  We’re all going to be just fine. Molley won’t go to bed at night until she’s ready, and if that’s not until almost 10:00, like tonight, then that’s when it’s gonna happen. I just needed to remind myself that this is temporary, and eventually, Molley will want to nap and go to bed at a normal hour. But if I keep pushing and causing this stress, she’s going to end up with issues that *I* cause. How messed up is that? Giving an adopted kid that comes home with relatively few issues new ones?!

Kimberly offered to take Mattix out again tomorrow for a bit and I think that I’ll take her up on it. in fact, she told me she was just going to keep our extra car seat in her car (the one that SHE expertly installed – she has NO kids – because even after 16 months of being a parent, I still cannot install a car seat) b/c she was definitely coming by for him. I’m AWFUL at accepting help, but I’m going to work on that just a little. And when Matty goes out for an hour or two tomorrow, instead of trying to make Molley sleep, I’m going to just chill out with her. She’s so easygoing that she’s more than happy to just hang out in my bed for a few hours. So, we’ll do just that. I can lounge around with her and just be. She really, really does love just hanging out with me. I can also put her in the Ergo and get a few things done around here.  Another plus to an easygoing baby that is a cling-on – happy to ride around all day long.

And also, I’m going to go out for an errand or two if I want to do that. Mattix needed to stay home, so home we stayed, day after day after day after day….I thought I was going to go postal at some point. But he had some pretty marked sensory integration issues and going out just overloaded his whole system. However, Molley isn’t Mattix. While I know that going to busy, super-lit places (like Walmart on a Saturday) would bee too much, Molley can handle going out for short times to fairly calm places. If she’s in the Ergo, she seems secure and content. Even at the mall, she was just fine. It was the middle of a weekday and it wasn’t busy at all. She didn’t have a problem whatsoever. Mattix loves to get out, and I need it, so I’m going to stop feeling guilty if I want to run out for an hour and just do it. I already know I can manage both little ones (mostly because Matty is so awesome), so I’m going to quit feeling like I can’t even leave my frickin’ house. Tomorrow, I’m going to take Molley to meet my grandfather while he is still with us (and partially mentally alert). We won’t stay long, but we’ll stop by for 15 minutes.

And that’s that. Thank you again. I know this all seems silly, but it really took a lot of advice and help for me to get here. I’m feeling much more positive. This isn’t easy, and it’s not going to magically get that way, but despite the fact that much of it is out of my control, there is plenty that is wthing my control, too. Mainly, my attitude and how I react. Tomorrow is a new day!

(Please ignore the mess in Matty’s room. I still (obviously) haven’t unpacked his suitcase from hsi two weeks at my parent’s house. My mom, by the way, just rules. She washed every last article of clothing I sent (and I sent enough for two weeks), so he’s been living out of his suitcase since coming home!)

My two babies:

The many faces of Molley. These are ll in sequence tnad taken within two minutes of each other. How funny and expressive is she?!

Reading to his “Monney”

Bath time…and of course, Mattix helped!

Drinking the bath water. Yum.

I just love how Matty sets all of his toys along the edge of the tub, then when he wants one, demands, “Peezzee, _____” (whatever toy he wants) and waits for me to hand it to him.

Patiently hanging out with me during Matty’s bath

Very, very important work

Also, I think Nicki might be right. Mattix might not ever have his meltdown. He does the exact same thing as Noah – over-loving on Molley. He wants her around all the time. When he woke up today and she was still sleeping, he wanted to wake her up. When I said no, he started yelling, “Monney Up! Wake up! Baby Up! Wake up, baby! Wake up, Monney!” When he’s around her, he smothers her in kisses and gives her too many hugs. He is as gentle as a two year old is capable and he shares with her. If she gets a hold of something he really doesn’t want her to have, instead of just taking it back, he goes and finds something for her, then trades. Really, he does. He even says either, “Here, Monney, peeze,” while handing her the new toy and taking his back, or he exclaims, “TRADE!” and switches them out. For two, that’s pretty darn impressive. And if she’s crying or fussing b/c I’ve gotten more than two feet away from her, he finds a toy to give her and says, “Monney, peeze” when he hands it to her. The best  was today, when she was in the Exersaucer and started crying because I ran to the bathroom. He exclaimed, “No cry, baby! Stop it! It okay! No cry, peeze.”  So, yeah, maybe he’ll skip over the whole jealousy stage and just remain a sweetheart. He sure does want her to play with him. I constantly have to remind him she’s not old enough yet when he insists she get up, take his hand, and go outside to play in the “box” (sandbox). And I also have to remind him that she can’t eat food yet. He tries to share everything with her.

Finally, I learned some very, very valuable information about testing your children adopted from Vietnam, Ethiopia, and any other “TB country” for Tuberculosis. VERY IMPORTANT and not something I’d heard or read anywhere. I’ll do my best to write it up tomorrow. Maybe you all know this, but I had no idea, and I consider myself well researched in general. Also, have YOU been tested for TB since coming home home from Vietnam (or Ethiopia or anywhere else similar) – at least three months after your return? A woman named Julee, who we met in Ethiopia and who truly touched my should and inspired me was also a wealth of information in this (and many) area(s).

Thank you, a little more venting, we’re gonna survive, and advice needed

UPDATE: There’s been a total security breach of my sterile changing table field (see photo below). At 5:15, after I slept exactly…not at all…Molley started wailing. I went in and she’d had a HUGE blowout. Everywhere. So I put her on the changing table and took off the diaper. As I was dropping one of the wipes into my plastic bag, which was hanging from the bag hanging station that I created, explosive diarrhea SHOT out of her little butt and went everywhere. She’d been holding her feet up in the air, which created the perfect high-pressure water fountain situation.  I wish I were kidding. I would have taken a photo but it was too gross.  I’m honestly getting worried. This stuff is the consistency of urine, only foul smelling. It COVERED the baby monitor (in all of the crevices), got all over the changing table, made it THREE feet across the room, splattered all over the floor, hit. the. door., dripped down it,  and then ran all under my wrapped changing pad, down the side of the changing table, and puddled under the leg. OMG. Four pairs of sterile gloves, four diaper sacks, fifty wipes, half a bottle of Win*dex, and one bottle of hand sanitizer later, that was contained. Then we tackled the crib. Is this ever gonna stop?! I think we’re heading back to the doctor just as soon as the office opens (two hours and counting…)

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First of all, thank you SO, so much from the bottom of my heart. I mean that. All of your comments and emails made me feel so much better and so much less alone. I’ll admit to feeling a little desperate by Sunday night. Reading everything Monday morning at 5:00 a.m. after two hours of sleep, with Molley on one side of my lap and the laptop on the other (yes, my lap really is that big and yes, I’m just that great of a mom that I was totally reading comments and emails while holding her), and again Tuesday, helped immensely.  The comments you left and the emails you sent me meant the world. It’s funny how I’ve always been a very independent person who doesn’t really need much encouragement or reinforcement, but each time I come home with a new baby, I’m super vulnerable and turn into one of those people that hangs on to every word.  This is hard. I knew that, but knowing and re-living are two different things.

Also, this is going to be LOOOONNNNGGGGG, so please feel free to skip most of it. A good portion of it is for me to remember (Matty’s adjustment to Molley), and another good portion is me whining a bit more.  However, if you can, please read the section at the end. I would honestly appreciate any advice you have to offer. I’m usually pretty cut and dry with the situation I’m going to talk about, but I’m a little less clear here. Thanks.

Monday started off much the same way that Sunday did and it got even worse. I went into the doctor at 8:30. Before I start complaining, I just have to brag on what an amazing kiddo my Matty is. I couldn’t count the number of people who commented on how well behaved he is over the past two days. Two different people asked, “But almost three?” when I answered their question about his age. Both were astounded when I told them he turned two just two months ago. He is taking all of this so well and has turned on his extra good behavior. I’m not an idiot and I’m sure he’ll really act out at some point, but for now, I’m appreciating how well he is listening and how kind he is acting towards Molley. He loves on her often and at random, just because he feels the urge. The most defiant thing he has done so far was grab a handful of dog food and shove it in his mouth on the way out the door yesterday when I told him he couldn’t play with his truck because I had to go to the doctor. He started crying and saying, “Ppeeeezzzzeeee, Mommy, guck guck (truck truck).”  I responded that he’d better get his little booty out the door NOW or else face a time out. I’d already set the alarm and we have 60 seconds to get the door closed before it goes off and the alarm people call and blah, blah, blah. He sulked out the door as slowly as possible and as soon as we were in the garage, he opened up the large container of Gidget’s food, grabbed a few pieces, gave me the DIRTIEST look ever, shoved them in his mouth, and smirked. I was all, “Dude, that’s nasty. Not sure who you’re trying to hurt…” and put him the car. I’m pretty sure I’m not the one that suffered as a result of that little outburst. What is it with kids and dog food?! He did it because he knows how annoyed I get when he messes with the dog’s food, but really? I’m not the one that just ate horse meat. Kidding. Gidget gets the good expensive stuff. On second thought, I’m not sure “expensive” in the dog food world means anything.   Maybe it means lamb intestines instead of horse intestines. I really don’t know. But if that’s the worst in six days as a new big brother, we’re doing pretty darn well. Oh, and the drawing on the wall, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

Also, I wanted to write down how Mattix has done with the transition so I can read it later, during the meltdown that’s probably coming, so I can really, truly appreciate him. We’re lucky he’s such a smart little guy. We gave him a photo album of Molley’s photos after her referral and added new ones as we rec’d them. We talked about Molley a lot. It got to the point where Mattix would easily identify anything new that was for her and would say, “Put Moggey’s room, Mommy!” Probably because everything I bought was pink, and he started to associate pink with “Moggey.”  I could bring home a bag of new clothes and he would sort through every last one, putting his in one pile and Molley’s in another. My little guy is as smart as a whip.

So when she came home, Mattix acted like she’d been here for months. She was just part of his routine, as if talking about her so much made her real for all this time. From the moment he first saw her, she became his “Monney.” (He can pronounce the “l” sound, but for some reason, in her name, he cannot get it. Before she was here, she was “Moggey” but after she came home, she became “Monney.” ) He gives her hugs and kisses, offers her his toys (in the CUTEST way ever – when he hands her something he wants to give her, he says, “Peeeze, Monney.” What two year old hands over his stuff AND says “please” while doing it?! He also offers her his juice/water and snacks, and often comes and helps me hold the bottle while I feed her. If she gets a hold of something of his and he doesn’t want her to have it, he says, “Nonononono” in the SWEETEST, gentlest voice ever and takes it away very softly.  His favorite thing ever is when I set “Monney” in his bed with him after he wakes up in the morning. Now when I put him to bed, he demands, “Baby! Bed! Peezzzeee!” because he wants me to put her in bed with him.  The only time I got really annoyed with his behavior in relation to Molley was on the way home from our traumatic appointment yesterday when he woke her up. He was in the backseat and apparently didn’t like the fact that she fell asleep. He yelled, “Baby, up! Monney, up! Baby, up! Monney, up!” super LOUD over and over. It worked – she woke up. Crying. Hard. But I can’t hold it against Matty that he wanted some company in the back seat.

Also, I’ll brag on Monney. So long as I’m holding her and not trying to put her to sleep, Molley is the sweetest, most charming little girl ever. She is so darn happy. She smiles all the time and is such a good natured baby. She is crazy snugly. When we’re out and she’s in the Ergo, she gives everyone the biggest smile on earth, batting those gorgeous long eyelashes. So sweet. (The Ergo is lifesaver and SO much better than the Baby Bjorn Air or two other carriers I’ve tried.)  She makes incredible eye contact and is always touching my face in the sweetest way possible. If I smile at her first, the smile I get in response is HUGE.

Anyway, we went to my doctor, where I learned I have a sinus infection, an “advanced” case of bronchitis, and some sort of virus, in addition to the remnants of my African Stomach Sickness. By the way, thank you guys for asking about the giardia and whether I could have caught it. I knew I didn’t have that, as I didn’t handle the poo in Ethiopia. Because of my crappy luck and because we knew Molley had it, Ed was the official diaper changer and our whole protocol was crazy careful. He used (and we still use) rubber gloves, copious amounts of hand sanitizer, and a whole system that more or less guarantees no contamination. Even with the blowing through the clothes, we’ve got it down. At home, we have the world’s most sterile diaper changing station set up.) I didn’t even consider that I could have bronchitis. Last time I had a cough like this was in college, when I had pertussis (whooping cough). I actually coughed until I vomited yesterday before my appointment. I might just add this to my weight loss strategies book I’m totally gonna write…

So, with that one down, we headed to the lab to have Molley’s blood drawn so that we would have some results for our appointment on the 27th. Okay, help me out here. If you’re a pediatrician and you deal with, um, you know, CHILDREN, wouldn’t ya think you’d know how much blood can be taken from an infant that weighs 14 pounds? Apparently not the doctor we saw last week. After we waited patiently for our turn at the lab, we were called back, only to be told that there were way too many tests for one blood draw and that they’d have to ask the doctor which ones he wanted them to run first. I asked if *I* could pick them, because, let’s be honest, I know what I really need to know now. Make sense? I wanted, at a minimum, HIV and all of the Heps. Most important to me was Hep A. I need to know if Molley is a carrier. I am being uber-careful with her when we’re out, but it’s not easy. And even though the chances of her being a Hep A carrier are slim, I’m not going to go around exposing other people. So, I think it’s fair that I want to know, like, NOW, that she isn’t carrying Hep A. (For an explanation, I’ve heard of only three cases of children from Ethiopia carrying, but not showing, symptom of Hep A. It was only discovered that they were carriers when they infected family members who were not vaccinated with whom they had close contact after they were home. I had my family members who would be in that close of contact with her get vaccinated before we came home, just in case, and Ed, Matty, and I are all obviously vaccinated, but that doesn’t mean I’m not crazy careful when we’re out. I don’t leave anything that came into contact with her saliva in public trash cans or at restaurants, and I cover everyone I know with hand sanitizer after they hold her. However, that’s not fun, so I’d really like to have the labs to confirm that she’s not a carrier. It’s very, very unlikely, but I’m not going to be irresponsible until I know.) So, they told me they had to go downstairs, find the doctor, and ask HIM what tests he wanted done first because *I* cannot pick and choose. What the eff? Gets better. She came back upstairs and told me that he wasn’t in for the day, they had to page him, and they’d call me back when they hear from him so I could come back. I was all, “No, thanks. I live an hour from here. We’ll wait.” I asked how long it would take, and they told me they’d NEVER had to do this before, so they didn’t know. Freakin’ awesome.

In the span of the 45 minutes it took for the doctor to call back, Molley blew a diaper, Mattix took a huge dump, and, as the icing on the cake, Matty DREW all over the wall in the waiting room. I lost my $hit. He got a huge disciplining speech in the doctor’s office, in front of a waiting room full of people who probably thought I was nuts. It’s just that his comprehension is so great and he understands every last word I say to him. And if he gets away with something once and knows he got away with it, it’s happening again. Then he got a timeout in the hall. As it turns out, this is totally my parents fault. They took him out to their new house that is under construction while he stayed with them and let him DRAW ALL OVER THE UNFINISHED WALLS. And guess where he was drawing in the office? On the small strip of wood in the middle of the wall that could easily be mistaken as a 2×4 by a two year old. Oops. Something that would have been helpful to know before I freaked out. Parenting mistake number two thousand one hundred fifty.

Finally, they came out and told us that they’d heard from the doctor. Do you think he ordered any of the tests that I felt were pressing? Of course not. I was so sick and tired at that point that it just pushed me over the edge. I started going off about how this is what happens when you see a doctor who has no experience with internationally adopted children and how it’s ridiculous that a person with a JD, not an MD, could give him a schooling and it didn’t stop there. I was so incredibly annoyed. Some of the tests he chose could have waited. *I* am the one that gave him the list of things that I wanted tested. And let’s be honest. The TSH and TS4 could have waited a month and the world wasn’t going to come to halt if we didn’t immediately know her lead levels. CBC and whatnot? Yes, important and pressing. But the newborn screen? The one that isn’t going to do anything for us because it’s no longer relevant? The one that took up half the blood we had drawn? Give me a freaking break.

It got worse. It took four different sticks and three blown veins to finally get enough blood for less than half of the tests. And the last one took forever. They just kept jiggling the needle around in her little, tiny arm. The one woman asked me how much water she had to drink. Um, she’s not even eight months old. She doesn’t drink straight water. I told her how much formula she’d had in the last 24 hours, but that wasn’t what she wanted. EIGHT MONTHS OLD. Formula, people. My poor, little, itty bitty girl was in so much pain and so distressed. By the end, she was wailing, Mattix was wailing in sympathy, and I was doing everything I could to hold it together, to explain to Mattix that it didn’t really hurt that badly but rather Molley is a baby and babies cry a lot during medical procedures, and to comfort Molley. I was also mad because I didn’t feel like I should have been the one holding her. She spent the entire 25 minutes it took twisted around, looking up at me with the most horrified face. She is learning to trust me and *I* was the one that held her down. Makes me sick to my stomach. The straw that broke the camel’s back came when they got Molley’s blood all over my hands. Yes, she is my child, but until we have confirmation of the labs that were run in Ethiopia showing she is Hep C and HIV negative, we’re practicing Universal Precautions here.  First of all, in this day and age, I think it’s stupid to assume that anybody- adopted or bio, adult or child - is free of communicable diseases, and second, when I specifically stated that it was important to me to have confirmation of these tests, don’t you think they’d be careful? Argh. I’m not worried about anything, but I’ve always felt the responsible thing is to be sure before assuming. We wouldn’t love Molley any less no matter what and we wouldn’t ever second guess bringing her into our family. But at the same time, I have a responsibility to be careful until I have test results.  Much like I’d heard of children who were Hep B and C negative when tested in Vietnam coming home and actually being positive, I’ve heard similar things, although infrequent, about Ethiopia.

Here is my pitiful baby girl after we got home, just before a diaper change. Doesn’t she just look miserable? How terrible am I for taking the photo? I know. And also? Try not to judge the changing table situation. The reason we’re using a plastic coated changing pad instead of putting the cover on it is because this way, I can sanitize it with Lysol after every diaper change. We’ve avoided spreading the giardia by being this careful and I think we’re going to be home free soon b/c she’s already three days into treatment. Woo hoo! After we check for the rest of the parasites, the plastic can come off.

Anyway, on the way home from the doctor’s office, I called my mom and cried. My parents are super busy witha major project right now and my mom is also very busy withmy grandfather, who is hanging on by a thread, but I couldn’t handle it. She came over Monday night and spent the night. Thank the Lord for my mom. I did one shot of my cough syrup that is so magically laced withcodeine and I slept from 11:00 p.m. to 10:00 a.m. without coughing. More than I can say for myself tonight, which explains why I’m up at 4:00 a.m. typing this. Damn cough.  I had a huge discussion with Ed over the phone about giving up one night of being Molley’scaregiver. I was absolutely militant about that with Mattix. Only Ed and I met his basic needs for over two full months, probably closer to three or four. Nighttime wakings (at least ten or twelve a night), feedings, diaper changes, etc. – only us. However, by Monday night, I just couldn’t do it. After a lot of discussion, I finally arrived at a place where I could give up control for a night or two. My thinking is that I’m not in great shape, bonding isn’t exactly awesome when I’m coughing my stomach up while holding Molley, and my stress and exhaustion are probably doing more harm than good.  Ed and I decided that if anything, we’ll sort of start over next week withbonding and care giving. This sucks, it does, but it’s probably not going to ruin our relationship with Molley. I’m doing everything I can not to feel guilt, but it’s hard. It’s just so important to me and I feel like a failure in that respect. It was, however, a good decision, because I felt like a million bucks Tuesday morning as compared to Monday. Before Monday night, I could count the number of hours of sleep I’d gotten over the course of three nights on two hands. I more than doubled that in one night! The cough and the crap feeling are still there, but sleep does a body good. It’s not happening tonight, so I’m glad it did on Monday night.

Tuesday, the kiddos and I ventured to the mall. Not on my list of placed to go right now, but I needed to buy better hair products for Molley. Again, Mattix just blew my mind. I had Molley in the Ergo and his little two year old self wanted to walk (as opposed to ride in a stroller). He held onto my hand, just like I told him he’d have to, the ENTIRE time. We were there for almost an hour.  In fact, at one point, I asked him to hold my dress because I needed my hand to get my walled out so that I could pay. After a minute, he demanded, “Mommy. Hand! Peeze!” A few more people remarked on how well behaved he is. I swear, I wish I could take credit, but he’s just a great kid. He totally has two year old moments, but as two other women told me, they’d do anything to have their two year oldshold their hand at the mall for ten minutes. I want to make sure I don’t take this for granted because right now, every little thing that makes my life easier is actually a big thing. And my little guy is doing just that…with a smile on his face.

I also had an encounter with two women – a mother and daughter and the daughter’s two children, who were the same age as Matty and Molley- as we waited for the elevator that made my whole day. I won’t write a lot about it, but they were very special ladies who made me feel like a decent person. Not for adopting my children. But for accepting our family and agreeing what a blessing my children are to ME and for not judging our diversity. Since coming home, we’ve had some very negative responses. I expected this. I’m a big girl and I made a big girl decision. And as long as my kids are still young, I’m going to handle them the best I can and as the bigger person. (Okay, fine. Except for the day after we got home, when I had it with one person’s comments who was sitting in the booth directly next to us at the Go*od Eg*g, which comments were entirely inappropriate, and I may or may not have made a comment in response about the white trash field trip out of the trailer park and how he with three teeth shouldn’t pass judgment. And for the record, I don’t handle things like that ever, but everyone has a breaking point, and the jet lag and all. And anyway, that may or may not have happened.) So, anyway, the three minutes I spent talking with these women, who I honestly thought were going to give it to me in a way I couldn’t handle today, were significant to me.  I expect people to look once, then maybe even twice, because we look at things we’re not used to seeing, and the fact of the matter is we’re not used to seeing a white woman with an Asian toddler and an African baby. Especially where we live. That’s fine. But beyond that? What is wrong with people? So, anyway, I left the mall today feeling so proud of my Bug, so proud of my girl, who just rode in the Ergo with a huge smile on her face, and less like the piece of crap that many people have managed to make me feel like over the past few days.

Then, as if my day wasn’t great enough, my friends Kedra and Kimberly made a huge, awesome dinner – spinach salad with all of the veggies, roasted corn, grilled chicken, and yummy toppings I love, and chicken and rice for Matty. I literally sat on my butt and drank (only) one glass of wine while they did everything. They didn’t even let me take my own plate into the kitchen when I was done. Matty was in heaven, playing at his Auntie Deda’s house, taking every last rock  and scooping all of the water out of her fountain. It took him almost two hours to accomplish this. I think I’m going to go over and steal her fountain tomorrow! We had to drain ours b/c it’s a larger, partially in ground one and I was so paranoid about Matty falling in head first and drowning. Kedra’s is different and totally safe and I swear to you, if that thing keeps him that busy, I’m going over there and jacking it soon. What was it I said about white trash?! Hey, at least I told her I might thief it. Seriously, though, I’m going to get him a water table ASAP and put lots of rocks in it.

So, there’s my past two days, blow by blow. We’re going to be okay. Nobody said this was easy. Hell, it was downright hard last time. And in comparison, this is going to be less difficult…once the dust settles. It’s just the getting there part. My kids are incredible and I’m blessed beyond words. That’s the bottom line. I’m trying to give myself a break, and, like Nicki said, let go of the guilt. I know I’m not the worst mom in the world, even though I’ve felt pretty darn close lately. And I also believe that we’ll get through this hard stretch and be okay. I’m trying to reason with myself that we had to walk a very, very tight rope with Mattix. He was in a place where he could easily have gone the way of a severe attachment disorder by the age of two because of his experiences before he came to us. I know that just because Molley was treated better doesn’t mean we can be remiss, but it also maybe gives us just a little more wiggle room. I cannot describe how militant we were with Mattix – the second he let out a peep, we were literally running down the hall. Nobody did a thing for him besides us. He had my undivided attention 24 hours a day, no matter what. The only time I said “no” for months and months was when he’d punch me in the face. Whatever he wanted, he got.

And I’m going to do the best I can to give Molley the same. But we have two kids, not one, and she’s not in the same place. She needs me, she wants me, and she”ll get me. But she has to share, unfortunately. I won’t let her attachment needs get lost in the shuffle, but I do think I can make it work without doing what we *had* to do last time.

How crazy flexible is she? Her right arm was totally funky under her little body. And can you get over how long she is? She is as long as Mattix was at almost a year, but about five and a half pounds lighter!

And I’ve been trying desperately to get photos of Matty and Molley together, but with no success. I’m so camera inept. Ed usually confines me to the D40 because I suck so badly it doesn’t matter and he’s convinced I’m going to break one of the better Nikon’s (and he’s probably right), but tonight, I pulled out one of the nicer ones (can’t remember which – maybe the 80?) and STILL all of the photos that I took on auto were terrible and blurry. These two are the best of the lot, which should tell you exactly how bad the rest were!

Here, Matty was very intently rubbing Molley’s back because she was fussing when I moved away to take pictures

Here, he laid down next to her and was rubbing her little feet.

And finally, my mom took a photo of my babies and me today. Try to ignore the double chin, the shiny face, and the three day old baby powdered hair. Just look at the kids. Molley would NOT look at the camera b/c she wouldn’t look away from me! And Matty’s cheese grin is just too cute. I think this is the only 3×3 section in my house that isn’t just inundated with crap! It looks like a tornado blew through this place.

And here’s where I really would like your input.

Molleywas a really great sleeper in Ethiopia. I didn’t expect that to continue, when we ripped her completely out of her environment, and she certainly fulfilled my expectations.  She rarely woke during the night there. In fact, I often woke her up to feed her, just because she needed to eat. And if she blew a diaper, she often slept through the entire changing of the diaper AND the clothes AND the bedding. And when she did wake, she’d go right back to sleep, often on her own with a smile on her face. However, since we came home, exactly what I expected to happen has happened. She is sort of the opposite of the way Mattix was: once she’s asleep, she stays asleep for about two to four hours at night, which isn’t bad at all. But the getting to sleep part? At nap time, bedtime, and in the middle of the night? Pure hell. She is so desperately afraid that I’m going to leave the room – which I am – that she will not allow herself to fall asleep. This happens regardless of whether she’s in our bed or hers. And in fact, she seems to stay asleep for longer stretches in hers than she did in ours. The best strategy I’ve come up with is to rock her with her bottle for 45 minutes or so, during which time she doesn’t even pretend to try to sleep, then lay her in her crib, facing AWAY from me (because if she can see me, she won’t even shut her eyes), and pat her bottom. Problem is that this patting situation goes on anywhere from one hour (at a minimum) up to three hours – on top of the 45 minutes of rocking. And sometimes? She still doesn’t sleep. At least half the time, hours and hours will pass and this exhausted kid will not go to sleep. On Sunday night, I was so tired and frustrated after two hours in the middle of the night that I took a minute and just walked out of her room. I was beating myself up for getting frustrated with her, because I can honestly say that I never felt that way last time, especially this early on, and I knew she was going to sense my frustration because babies can just do that, so I walked out for a minute and stood in the hall outside her door. She cried – not hysterically or anything – just cried – for about three minutes, then promptly went to sleep. Again on Monday for nap time, we were going through the same thing. It had gone on for so long that Mattix was going to wake up from his nap soon, which meant I wouldn’t be able to sit there with her any longer. I walked out and she cried – again, not hysterically – for about five minutes, then went right to sleep. When my mom was up with her Monday night, after three hours of fun, she walked out just to see what would happen. She said Molley was out within four minutes. Molley had been up from 3:30 to 6:30 a.m. and my mom was just about ready to throw in the towel and let her get up – after just six hours of sleep (b/c she didnt’ fall asleep until 9:30).

I am ADAMANTLY opposed to letting adopted kids cry it out. I would never leave her in there to cry endlessly until she passed out. I have very, very strongly opinions on that. However, I’m not sure what to make of this.  If she falls asleep within a few minutes of sobbing, after we spend an hour or two putting her to sleep, is it okay? I know that sounds like the stupidest question EVER, but I didn’t anticipate this and I’m not sure what to make of it.  I figured if she were hard to put to sleep, she’d eventually go to sleep. But not so much. And I figured that letting a kid cry means they cry hysterically for a long time.  I’d really like input from any other crazy attachment people who feel the same way I do. Is letting her cry for a few minutes before she goes to sleep traumatic? Like I said, maybe half the time we’re putting her to sleep, she’ll eventually fall asleep. But the other half? After two or three hours? Thoughts??? BTW, I don’t think jet lag is a factor here. She’s pretty well flipped around on her time and it’s not a matter of not being tired at the right times. It’s more about not wanting to close her eyes and not wanting to lose sight of me.

So this is gonna get easier, right? (Or the post where I whine like a little bitch)

I really don’t think I’m a huge whiner. I don’t ever really feel sorry for myself and I certainly don’t hold any bitterness in my heart. Except Matty’s treatment in the orphanage, but that’s all, and that’s totally justified as far as I’m concerned. And it’s not really bitterness anymore, I don’t think, and the anger is subsiding. Anyway, tangent. My point is that I’m pretty content and grateful, in general, I think.

You know where this is going, huh? I have to make those statements before I do exactly what I said I don’t do.

When we got home on Wednesday night/early Thursday morning, I was all beat to hell. We traveled for 40 hours.  We flew from Ethiopia to Dubai, which is now, as far as I’m concerned, the racist capital of the WORLD, had a nine hour layover, during which time we went to an airline-paid-for hotel for THREE lame hours, flew from Dubai to Houston, went through U.S. customs, where I encountered my first red neck white trash asshole in the states post-second adoption, thankyouverymuch and welcomehome, hauled ass to the OTHER airport in Houston, barely made our flight, flew from Houston to Albuquerque, had a stopover, then flew from Albuquerque to home. Molley was a freaking champion. She just hit it out of the ballpark. If I were being honest with myself, I’d admit that the fact that she slept for 80% of those 40 hours is a result of the trauma and stress of the situation, but at this point, I don’t care. It is what it is and “it” made that 40 hours more manageable. (I do know she is under a great deal of stress, though. Her sleeping since coming home as been absolute crap and she loses it all night long. She can’t have me more than one foot away from her and she more or less needs to be touching me 24 hours a day. That’s for another day. This is all about me and my trauma. ) She was great and despite the fact that she crapped through no less than 12 (twelve) outfits (which was actually less than I had planned), poo’d on me twice and projectile vomited on me once, we made it.

We got home around 1:00 a.m. on Thursday. Mattix was still at my parent’s house because we had no intention of waking him up in the middle of the night, as much as I wanted to do just that. I think Molley, Ed and I finally fell asleep around 3 a.m. We woke up at 7:00 a.m. Thursday morning so that we could take her to the pediatrician. I only wanted her raging case of giardia addressed. Selfishly, I wanted nothing more than for the explosive diarrhea, which at that point was more or less happening every one and a half to two hours, to stop, and unselfishly, I wanted her to be more comfortable.  We were holding off on all of the other things that need addressing because doctors appointments and labs without health insurance are expensive, and we’ll once again have health insurance on Monday, thank God.

So, anyway, we took her to the doctor, who was also certain she had giardia. Thank goodness we got lucky and got the one pediatrician besides our own (who is on maternity leave until the 27th) who knows his head from his ass when it comes to “unusual” issues in the states. He spent years in Central America and was all, “Yeah, I’ve had giardia like seven or eight times and you’re right.  You can take a stool sample before you start the flagyl, but let’s just get on this.” THANK GOD, because I know other people have to go through a bajillion stool samples (giardia, along with all the other parasites, don’t necessarily show up in all (or even many) samples, despite the fact that the person has them). 

So then we went to my parent’s house to finally see Matty. Oh my gosh, I could have just died. He was waiting outside with my mom. As we pulled up in the car, I could see him jumping up and down. I rolled down the window to hear, “Mommy! Daddy! Home! Bug you! Eeeeeeeeee!” He just squealed with delight and his whole little body was shaking. I jumped out of the car first and I swear, my baby dove into my arms and held on so tight. Ohmygosh, I couldn’t have missed him more. Ed got out and came around and he literally held onto both of us so tight, saying, “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy! HOME!!!!” over and over again. It’s hard to believe that this is the same kid that used to punch me in the face 16 months ago, huh? Seriously. I can’t tell you how great it was to hold him after two weeks and have him so happy to see us. Good Lord, I love that little guy.  (By the way, we made the absolute right choice not to take him. We waivered terribly, but in the end, decided it would be best for him to sit this one out. We felt he was just too young to go to Africa. I couldn’t be happier with our decision. Given the fact that I got so sick, then Ed got so sick, and just about everyone in our guest house got so sick at some point, I’m very glad we didn’t take him. I can’t imagine his little two year old body going through what some of us went through. We bent over backwards to maintain sanitary standards to keep healthy, but I think it would be very difficult to do that with a two year old. And did I mention that the guest house had one and one half bathrooms for five FAMILIES (each family having at least two adults and one child, some more?))

Anyway, it was while we were at my parent’s house that the first little hint of bitterness started to grow in my heart. It’s very frustrating to me that my mind and my spirit want to kick ass and take names, but my body sometimes just won’t cooperate. I’m tough, damn it. Why can’t my body play along? Jet lag and foreign sickness suck, they really do, but for me? They just kill me and it frustrates me to no end. The traveling and the lack of sleep and the crazy, weird illnesses that are still kicking the shit out of me as I type this finally all hit at once. My blood sugar just crashed to a scary, scary level that hasn’t happened in, well, I don’t know how long. My continuous glucose monitor wouldn’t even register it. It just said, “Below allowed limits.” I shut off my pump just in time…then everything went dark.  I was told that I drank somewhere between 40 and 50 ounces of juice over the course of the four hours that I was semi-conscious on the couch. For reference, I usually need between four and six to treat a low blood sugar. Thankfully, my mom now has 20 years of this under her belt and Ed’s not doing too poorly with ten, so nobody panicked too much. When I finally came around completely, I felt like I’d been run over my a dump truck. And so began my welcome home weekend. That dump truck thing has been escalated to a full on steamroller.

I still have some crazy African Stomach Sickness from Hell that acts up every twelve hours or so, complete with a spiking fever and a total liquefying of whatever is in my stomach, which is not much these days.  When I first caught it in Ethiopia, I just laid in bed and prayed that I wouldn’t die. The only way I can describe it is that I felt like I’d had the stomach flu for two weeks. Except I felt that way after I’d been sick for SIX HOURS. I won’t bitch without noting how grateful I am that I didn’t need an IV, because there ain’t no IVs in Ethiopia. The international disease M.D. in our group more or less told me I’d be better of chancing it and just dying in the guest house than seeking medical care in ET. So I’m very, very fortunate that this illness didn’t go the way of similar ones I’ve had in the past. And this one was much, much worse. Obviously…it’s still hanging around.

And then there’s the tuberculosis. Okay, so it’s not TB, but I don’t know what it is. My throat is swelling shut, it hurts to talk, and I cough so hard I’m just waiting to crack a rib. I can’t wait for 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning, when I can show up at the travel clinic. Hey, the PA said he’s available to me during and after our trip, so as far as I’m concerned, that means when the doors open on Monday morning. Of course, I’ll have two littles in tow, but I can’t help it that I’m doing it single-parent style three days after coming home.

Are you tired of my whining? I’m So. Not. Done.

So, Ed was laid off from his job a few months ago. Awesome timing. I know we’re not alone, but the timing really was terrible. Not that there’s ever a good time for that sort of thing, but US*CIS says you have to have a job to immigrate a new baby. Lots of awesome stress ensued. We are SO lucky that he found a great job in such a short period of time. So lucky. I know that and I’m very grateful and proud of Ed. He networked like nobody’s business and kicked ass, landing an incredible job that is actually a great career move from him.

The upside of being laid off is that he spent two solid months with Matty and I and we had incredible family time. It was really great for us. Mattix is so much happier and more secure and I can see the difference.  The downside is that we had no health insurance. And that said job requires us to move. To a new state. Like now. And? He left for New York this morning to start training, leaving my sad, sorry, sick ass with two kids. We’re lucky they let him put off his start date, otherwise I’d have been dying in Ethiopia alone, but it’s not easy to come home, then be left totally alone with two kids tow and under when I’m so beat down physically. (Don’t worry, we don’t have to move to New York. That would be the nail in the coffin of my sanity. We’re actually moving to a great place, but right now, no place other than where I live is great. I need my family. I need my friends. I need my house. I need some freaking stability. I don’t need to move.)

So, at 5:30 this morning, after Ed left for the airport and Molley blew her fifth diaper of the night all over the bedspread in the guest room, I set her in the Exersaucer, where she screamed her head off, sat on the floor next to her, and cried.

Nice parenting skillz, right?

After I got that out of my system, I got up, brought her upstairs, put her in the swing, and took a shower. I decided the only way to conquer the depression before it set in was to suck it up and take the two kiddos out of the house, by myself, and just get it over with. This sounds totally stupid, but I was terrified of going out alone with two little kids.

I’m totally incompetent, aren’t I? Are you all wondering what social worker actually approved me to adopt again? Me too. I wish I could like and act like I rock, but I don’t. I suck.

Molley is such a little baby to me (she’s 7.5 months old, almost 8). I don’t do babies, if you recall, and I swear, there is a HUGE difference between 7.5 months and ten months (Matty’s age when we met him). HUGE. Plus, Matty was crazy mobile and almost walking.  I don’t know what I expected. I guess I thought she was going to be closer to nine months (we never saw a birth certificate until we were in Ethiopia and so I was just guessing her age) and somehow, I assumed she was going to be really physical like Matty. She’s not – she’s totally happy lounging in my arms, laying in my lap, riding around in the Ergo, and just being. Which is great. Truly. This is the opposite situation - Mattix wanted me to just disappear and Molley can’t have me out of her sight. I prayed for better treatment for her.  I prayed that she didn’t go through what Matty did. It was so terrible for him and so hard for us. As it turns out, Molley was held a lot, fed her bottles (she doesn’t even know how to hold a bottle, which is a great thing), and loved on. So, her post-institutionalized thing is the cling-on.  That’s not easy, either. I know for a fact it will be easier than what we went through the first time, but I’m drained right now. At this very moment, I’ve got nothin’. The stomach thing I caught there and the other thing – I don’t even know what it is – that I’ve been developing for a week, combined with the blood sugars, is hard. And while I do know this will be easier, Molley has has her own set of circumstances that need addressing, one of which is the giardia and another of which is the fact that she was pretty malnourished. When we first met her, I was horrified. She had the distended belly and little stick legs with no fat whatsoever. Part of the reason the diapers would blow out is that she had no leg fat for the diapers to sit against. Does that make any sense? We took size 2’s, but we bought size 1’s because they 2’s were way too big, and still, the 1’s were too big. We’ve managed to pack a pound and a half on her in less than two weeks, most of that on her little legs, but the explosive poos every hour and the projectile vomiting are not easy. Bonding is difficult when you’re that worn out. And then the guilt…

I didn’t expect easy, for the record. We know hard. We know what adoption and institutionalization mean. So I’m not trying to be a big, pathetic, whiner. I’m just beat down, sad to be alone, and a little overwhelmed. And I’ll admit it: despite all of my efforts to the contrary, I’m ending my day feeling a little sorry for myself.

There, I said it. I feel a little sorry for myself. I kept busy today to avoid the pity party. For the first time, I packed up my two littles and ventured out of the house. We made a Babies R U*s Run, a C*arter’s Run (b/c seriously, this kid is so skinny that everything is huge on her, but she’s crazy long – as long as Matty was when he was three months older than her – so new clothing was in order; lots of two piece things so I could buy 3 or 6 months without worrying about the length), we met my friend Laura and her daughter for lunch. We came home for naps (good times) then went to dinner with my friend Kedra. And we made it. And I didn’t lose anybody and anything. Or drop anybody. (Isn’t that the dumbest concern ever? Dropping a kid?)

BTW, I’ve totally found the secret to weight loss. Spend two weeks in Dubai/Ethiopia for the first ten, then go out to eat with a two year old and a 7.5 month old cling-on for the second ten. Totally takes the eating right out of the eating out equation. Rock n roll!  I’m losing these last ten pounds through forced anorexia. Oh, and the death viruses are helping, too.

Anyway, despite keeping busy, I’m still having a little pity party tonight.

I moved Molley out of our room and into hers. We tried co-sleeping for a while. I’m too broken to make it work. I need to sleep in the between times – between when she’s wide awake at night, which is very, very often. And I can’t sleep when I’m trying to lay totally still, holding my breath to stop the coughing attacks that wake her up, trying not to breathe too loud. Can you tell I feel guilty? I do. I tried like hell to co-sleep with Matty and he wouldn’t have it. Molley wants to co-sleep – maybe even needs it – and I can’t do it.  I really thought I couldn’t get a demotion on the mom gig – ’cause I figured I was at the bottom, anyway – but I totally get one for that.

And I think that’s all. I have so many positive things to share, too, but I needed to get this out of my system. Tomorrow I can start focusing on the positive. My jaded view of adoption has been altered. I have faith in an adoption agency. I can say to everyone who has no actual in-country experience that says “Ethiopia is the next Vietnam” – you’re wrong, it’s not, and it doesn’t have to be. I’ve been forever touched and altered by our experiences, and I’ve met people who have humbled me like I couldn’t have ever imagined. I’ve learned that while orphanages are NOT ideal or even good settings for children, they’re not all evil. I’ve learned that traveling to Vietnam was like experiencing a first world country as compared to our most recent trip. I’ve met children whose life circumstances should shame me for this post. I’ve fallen in love with Ethiopia just as I fell in love with Vietnam. I have an incredible daughter, in addition to my amazing son, who I’m going to love with all of my heart as soon as we get to know each other.  My children have changed my life more than children generally do. They’ve opened my eyes to the world in a way that never would have happened for me but for them.  I’m overwhelmed.

And I’m going to bed.

(I just remembered to upload another post to YouBelong from the day before we left. I’ll add the pictures later, as the text was already written and I’m too tired to add photos now.)

We’re Home!

Exhausted and sick…but we made it! More when I’m not about to kick the bucket. I’ll also add the last few missing posts to my YouBelong journal this weekend. Getting home was a fun 40 hour adventure!

Welcome home, Molley!

One last (birthday) post…

I’m really taking a break now, but I *had* to post this. Is there any better way to wake up on your 30 minus 1 birthday (that’s 29 for the math challenged, but I figure if I start with the 30 thing now, when I’m like 35, I can say 30 plus 5) to the sweetest little person ever, saying,  ”Happy Bertday, Mommy!” holding this:

Then he climbed up into bed and snuggled with me for 15 minutes. Heaven.

I’m never really been into my birthday. I mean, after 21, it’s all sorta downhill, right? But this? This makes makes my birthday awesome.

I have a feeling 29 is going to be the best year yet, and not just because it’s my last before the big 3-0!

Back to my break…