Day 22: Two big milestones for Molley!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 19: My son, his life, clarification

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 18: Photos and Advice, Please

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 13: Dealing with Rage

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

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

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

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

- toilet plunger, unwrapped

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

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

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

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

- three dirty bath mats

Lots, lots, lost more.

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

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

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

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

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

Hope you all have a great weekend!

Day 12: Everything I said about our moving company?

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

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

See this mess?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomorrow will be a better day.

Happy Friday!

 

 

Day 11: Sometimes parenting makes you really, really tired

Thanks for all of the advice. I began today with a new mindset…one of patience. That’s not true. The new mindset began about five minutes after I woke up because Mattix started off with a bang. I made an effort to give both kids more of what they’ve been needing. They’ve both been acting out and I’ve known why, but I wasn’t doing anything about it. Ugh. I took all of your advice! Really, I did. I was more consistent with discipline when it was necessary and I was more loving and interactive, even when nobody wanted that. Ed and I came up with some activities for the kids (thanks, Kelley!) and made a much bigger effort to involve them in what we’re doing vs. just shoo’ing them out of our way.

The past three weeks, but the past week particularly, have not been my best. I didn’t yell at all and I didn’t lose my temper *too* often, but I’ve been so busy and so sick that I’ve been short, easily annoyed, and minimally involved. When I asked for help with Mattix yesterday, I should have mentioned that Molley puts in her fair share. She actually goes after Matty just as much as he goes after her! I said that he was bullying her, but because I actually paid a lot more attention today, I realized that she instigates a full half of everything. And man, that girl can hold her own, but I’ve known that for months!  Size-wise, Matty only has her by three inches and seven pounds, but strength wise, she’s right there with him. The girl has crazy guns and is freakishly strong. She also screeches in this horrifying high pitched voice that, when heard but not seen, makes you think Mattix just plucked our her eyeballs with tweezers. The fact of the matter is that she does this when she’s not getting her way, whether Matty is at fault or not.  He’s often standing five feet away when she does it, but happened to look at her the wrong way. Wow, the teenage years are going to be fun! DRAMA!

The good news is that the kids were much kinder to each other when both Ed and I made more of an effort to interact with them all day long. Also, instead of just complaining, remaining frustrated, and focusing on the difficult parts, I’m going to begin appreciating the good parts as well. Both kids took long naps yesterday and today, the first simultaneous and lengthy naps they’ve taken in WEEKS. They were phenomenal on both loading and unloading days, when strangers were in and out of our houses with our things all day long each time.  Mattix was his usual funny and friendly but guarded self. The funniest part of the whole thing for me was on Monday, when one of the movers, Dennis, was reassembling Matty’s train table. We’re putting it in his bedroom now, which is thrilling him to no end. Dennis dropped one of the pieces and it made a super loud sound b/c all of the floors in our new house are travertine, even in the bedrooms, and I haven’t put down the rugs yet. Matty ran in there, pointed his finger at Dennis, and said, “Carepul! Be carepul! No droppin’ it, please! That’s my trains!” Isn’t that cute? His little bossy voice is actually really sweet and endearing. He had everyone cracking up.  And Ms. Molley has been getting super creative lately. She is now putting sounds with all of her actions, from cooking in their play kitchen to playing with the trains and trucks. She has an accurate sound for everything. She also began repeating “love you” back to Ed and I, which just melts my heart.

Mommy guilt’s a bitch. I know it’s called that, but I don’t feel guilty. I just feel crappy. I know the difference! I feel like I’ve been an inadequate mom, and although I’m not feeling guilty, I’m feeling, well, inadequate. I started my day off on the wrong foot when Mattix literally ran into my room after Ed got him out of bed and yanked on the cord to my already-sad laptop, sending it crashing down onto the tile. I was so upset because he knows better and was just being ornery. I started to get really upset with him but caught myself. I’m not proud of my parenting lately, so I’m really making an effort now, even though I feel like death warmed over and I have a million things to do. The kids come first…especially before unpacking boxes!

Anyone else ever go through this sort of thing ???

Day 10: Oops

Guess I missed technically missed Day 10 because it’s 1:00 a.m. I was halfway done with my Day 10 post when Ed made it home at 10:00 tonight and I quit typing to unpack boxes. We actually unpacked 90% of the kitchen boxes – 30 of those giant “dish pack” boxes. Holy hell, that was exhausting.

Day 10’s post, which will become Day 11’s post, is my lengthy response to an anonymous email from someone who had something to say about my life. That should explain why it was taking me so long. It will be here tomorrow.

In the interim, I need help. What in the world do you do with a toddler who is going through a phase wherein he refuses to listen? And also wherein he’s picking on his sissy? Mattix is testing me. He’s not yet tested me this much. I know that 99% of this has to do with all the upset in his life right now and the lack of attention the kids are receiving. We took three hours off this afternoon to go for a walk and hang out and both kids were totally themselves , but right now, it’s not going to be like that every day and the behavior has to dial back at least a little bit. Mattix is not even being super crazy…just NOT listening and bullying here and there. I’ll tell him “no” and he’ll go do whatever it is anyway. I use time outs, which generally work very well, but lately, all he does when I put him in time out is yell, “I tell Mommy sorry! I sorry, Mommy!” or “I say sorry to Molley! I say sorry to Molley!” He’s not sorry…he’s just sorry he’s in time out.  For clarification, Mattix  does often sincerely mean that he’s sorry. I’ve read that some kids don’t understand apologizing until they’re older, but Matty gets it. Advice???? (And I won’t spank. Ed and I were very opposed to spanking before we had kids. While lots and lots of our plans changed once we had kids, this one has not. If we weren’t committed enough to begin with, Mattix’s past experiences before he came to us solidified that beyond a shadow of a doubt. That’s not an option for our family. (Although, in the interest of honesty,  I did flick the backs of Molley’s hands a few times when she did that horrible pinching thing that literally caused skin to bleed and bruise…it didn’t hurt her, but it upset her and put a stop to it. I also occasionally have done back to Matty whatever he’s done to Molley when he was being intentionally mean, like hair pulling or pinching. That sounds terrible, but it *really* works.) Okay, so advice please!