The Day From Hell

10 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by in Adoption, Bad Parenting, Don't Be Afraid, Motherhood

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It is 11:38 pm as I type this.  I have just emerged from the shower where I washed off baby barf that happened at 3 something pm.  Welcome to my life.

Today was the last day of Spring Break for SJ, and I let her sleep until nearly ten this morning.  The baby roused earlier, played in her crib and fell back asleep until ten as well.  A VERY nice, quiet morning for me.  This changed quickly.

Once fed, the three of us played until noon when we ran a few errands.  Afterwards, we headed to the doctor’s office where both girls had well checks scheduled.  I carefully arrived a few minutes early to complete paperwork on AC since it was her first visit in the U.S.  The nurse called us back at the appointed time.

2:15  Went to Lab for SJ to get finger stick.

2:20  Five minutes, 500 questions and one sticker later task is complete.

2:25  Off to weigh and measure both girls.

2:27  To exam room to discuss SJ development and AC history with nurse.  Nurse explains that AC needs finger stick and will send lab tech to our room shortly.  After tech leaves, SJ needs to strip and put on paper gown for exam.  Suggests that I prepare bottle for AC to have while getting finger stick.

2:40  Making bottle in hallway.

2:45  Doctor arrives.  Before lab tech.  Says that she will need a vein stick for AC to complete recommended blood tests for adoption.  Does SJ well check.  AC drinks bottle.

2:50  Doctor says that SJ  height  percentile has dropped and recommends visit to endocrinologist.  Completes SJ visit.

3:00  Examines AC.  **I have to note here that this child was a premie and spent 3 months in NICU and had an additional hospitalization for bronchitis when she was 6 months old.  She HATES doctors.  When she was examined in Moscow, she lost her damn mind crying.**

3:10  AC is completely insane sobbing by this time.  One of my concerns was that she constantly touched her ears.  When the doc put the otoscope in the right ear, Ava Cate spewed vomit all over everyone in the room.  Trauma/tears + pain + whole bottle consumed less than an hour ago = baby formula covered clothes.  Mine.  Not hers.

3:12  Nurse enters to help clean.

3:15  Tongue depressor + already pukey child = bye bye bottle.  More baby puke.  YAY ME!  At least that’s all she’s eaten, right??

3:22  Almost done.  Lab tech is on her way.

3:30  Lab tech finds a vein and draws FOUR VIALS of blood from sweet baby’s tiny little arm.  Takes three adults to hold her down.  SJ left room.  I am crying almost as hard as Ava.

3:51  Nurse returns to give vaccines.  Three shots and more tears all around, and WE ARE DONE.

4:00  Clothes on and money paid, we are heading to parking garage.

4:08  Call husband who is out of town (at the mother fucking BEACH) on business.  Cuts me short on phone because he’s “busy”.

4:09   Message to Sue Bob to dig a hole to bury husband.

4:20  Happy Meals for everyone.  If today hasn’t killed us, the shit at McDonalds won’t hurt us either, right?

4:30  Home.  All are happy.  Chat with Sue Bob about the day and realize I FORGOT TO PICK UP AVA’S SCRIP FOR EAR INFECTION.  I must be the dumbest mother ever.

5:10  Sue Bob arrives with my Rx in hand.  I love this woman.  I do.  Bestest friend ever. 

Multiple crises with sobbing baby tonight.  Her little legs are so sore and I know she’s miserable.  Advil at 10 pm.  Hopefully, we will all make it through the night. 

Time lapse to midnight.  Long day after a lovely, lazy morning.  I am a living, breathing country music song:

“I don’t love every minute of my day, but I love every day of my life.”

I would sing the lyrics, but I can’t sing.  I would write the song, but I can’t play music.  I’m worthless except as the song chorus above, or my suggested title “Frazzled”.  I’m fairly worthless all around other than loving these sweet girls with all my heart.   And I’m tired.  Really, really tired.  Night y’all.   

 

 

Where Has That Finger Been?

05 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by in Adoption, Bad Parenting, Motherhood

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There is a reason that very grown women cannot have children. That reason is named Ava. She’s a pistol and taking all my energy and every moment of my time. She also has a few interesting habits and idiosyncrasies. By “interesting” I mean completely maddening.

First, the sweet girl has THE most disgusting little “self-soothe”. All kids do a little something to lull themselves when life gets harried or when they are trying to fall asleep. My eldest sucked her finger and rubbed her cheek. There are those who sit in the crib and rock themselves and those who gently bang their little heads against walls. You’ve got your hair twirlers and eyebrow rubbers and thumbsuckers (like me). And then you have Ava.

The sweet and incredibly lovely little girl takes the forefinger and sticks it in her mouth. Then she adds the middle finger. Then the ring finger. It looks so precious with a half a hand crammed in her mouth. And THEN….

…pointer finger snakes out of her mouth and up her nostril. And then back into her little mouth. And THEN…

…the middle finger snakes out of her mouth and up her other nostril. And then back into her little mouth. You know where I’m going here.

My adorable little baby is a booger eater. I am the mother of a booger eater. Fuck.

Top Ten Reasons I Want To Come Home

19 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by in Adoption, Motherhood, Uncategorized

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I am so ready to go home.  I know I’ve only been gone seven nights, but I miss my daughter so very much that I can hardly stand to SKYPE her.  She’s my number one reason for homesickness, but here are some others:

1.  The weather.  The thermometer in Moscow is hovering around 36; back home, my people are enjoying 85 degree afternoons.  I need to be barefoot as soon as possible.

2.  Ice.  Drinks don’t come with ice.  I want some ice in my drink rather than on the ground.

3.  I miss my people.  I need a night in with the girls, a party on the deck, a lunch out with a friend, coffee with my sister, dinner with my parents.

4.  I need a new book.  I’m bored (not THAT bored, Butter!) and have read all five of the books I brought with me.  Plus the one that hubs brought too.  I am taking the Princess to the library ASAP and stocking up.

5.  Food and Drink.  I want to raid my refrigerator of American food not send Prince Charming to the market to buy one Russian item per day.  I have no coffee maker here and am subsisting on instant espresso and hot tea.  I want a real cup of coffee and some iced tea.  (See also #2)

6.  Toilet paper.  Our apartment was stocked with flower-scented TP.  One of John’s earliest trip to the market was for replacement tissue.  He came back with the only alternative:  Green Apple Scented Toilet Paper.  My butt deserves better.

7.  Safety.  The apartment is not childproof.  My home isn’t perfect either, but it is much better than the loose cords and power strips in every room.

8.  Humidity.  The air here is so dry that my skin looks like I am an alligator.  I live in constant fear of being shot, skinned and sewn into a nice purse.  Feel free to remind me of this post in August when I’m whining about the 90 percent humidity and 90 degree weather.  Til then, bugger off.

9.  Jet lag.  I can’t sleep and am miserable.  I would love to go home and spend three days in bed.  I don’t think the children will allow it.

10.  Last, but certainly not least:  FAMILY.  When I finally arrive home later this week with the baby in tow, this journey will come to a close.  Not motherhood, obviously, but the journey to take our little family from three to four.  I’m ready to get this thing started.

 

Why My Husband Is Not In Charge Of Baby Feeding

18 Sunday Mar 2012

Posted by in Adoption, Bad Parenting, Motherhood

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When we brought the Princess home in 2005, Prince Charming took several weeks off from his usual travel to spend some time with her.  It worked perfectly because I had been offered a nice consulting gig that would only last a month.  The one caveat?  I had to start just two days after we returned home.

As I left for work that first Monday morning, I was very confident that my husband would be totally competent.  I was teary at leaving our happy nest, but glad to have the diversion after being out of work for several months.

Around noon, he called me frantic.  “She WON’T STOP CRYING.”

“Did you change her diaper?”

“Yes.  And I played with her and rocked her and bounced her and tried to lay her down for a nap…but NOTHING.  She’s SCREAMING HER HEAD OFF.  What should I do?”

“Honey,” I ask calmly, “did you FEED her?”

“What?  We just had breakfast at seven!”

“Feed her.  Not everyone eats ONE meal a day.  Give the kid some DAMN food!”

“Oh.”

Some time passes and he calls back.

“She won’t take a bottle!”

“What are you giving her?”

“Juice.”

“Just mix some formula and try that.”

“Oh.”

Something about this conversation gives me pause.  I am 100% certain that I gave Sophie the last of the juice last night, and am pretty certain that there wasn’t another container lurking around.  Being that this is a temporary consulting job, I give myself a couple of hours off and head home early.  I arrive to a full-bellied, napping baby and a frazzled husband.

“You were right,” he says.  [Duh.]  “She must have been hungry.”

“Hon.  About the juice.  I’m confused.  We are out of juice.”

“No.  It’s that carrot/tangerine VRUIT stuff you’ve been giving her in the carton.”

“No.  We’re out.  I’m certain.”

“Well, it’s right here in the frig.  I poured her a bottle and she wouldn’t drink a DROP.”

I ask him to show me.  We stand in front of the refrigerator and I watch in horror as he pulls out a carton of — drumroll please – Swanson Chicken Broth.

“Read the box, John.”

“Shit.”

Yeah.  Literally.  You just gave my baby a bottle full of cold chicken broth.  It still makes me shiver to even think about that innocent child opening up sweet little mouth and swilling cold chicken broth.

Thank God she has no recollection of this.  It’s bad enough that we are parenting idiots from time to time, but cold chicken broth?  We simply do not have enough money saved for the therapy she will need.

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