TTT – Days 1 and 2
After a brief 24 hour period, we made it to our hotel in Bangkok. How was flying across the Pacific with an eleven month old and a three year old? A lot easier than I had anticipated, actually. I think a lot of that can be attributed to a couple of things. First, this SAHM gig gives me a bunch more flexibility in terms of travel prep. Usually I would be running around the house like a mad woman up to the moment I was supposed to leave for the airport. Here, I was packed and ready the night before our trip. I also had the time to organize our carry-on bags so we had tons of stuff to play with on the flight, so I felt like I was ahead of the game even before we left. Second, my kids seem to be pretty good travelers.
We had a few trying moments on the journey, obviously. Oscar has no fear, it seems, when it comes to his running around in public. This typically comes into play when we are in confined spaces, where running around is simply not appropriate, like, you know, airport security lines. Before going through security, while I was holding Etta and trying to get all of our belongings sorted into baskets and breaking down the stroller, Oscar decided to crawl onto the metal table that the buckets go onto before they go into the scanner. I hauled him off, and he discovered that there was another shelf under the table, so he jumped onto that and crawled to the front of the line. I ran and got him, pulled him back and walked us through the scanner, which he touched. The TSA lady tried to get him to walk through it alone. Big mistake, but once all three of us got through it (without him touching the sides (this took three attempts)), we got to the point where I collected all of the stuff in the buckets and the TSA man checked to make sure the baby’s milk was not some sort of explosive device. This, my friends, is where airport security jumps the shark. What mother of two has the freaking time to plot the take down of an airliner? C’mon. Anyway, while I’m standing there with Etta, waiting for the milk to be cleared and the flight declared safe for all and simultaneously trying to get my crap pulled together, Oscar bolts. Yeah, seriously. Runs, looking back at me like he wants to play chase. There are somewhere close to one million people at the terminal, I’m being told to wait, while my child is about to run the length of the international terminal, so there, at the airport, I discovered my “don’t screw with me, kid” Mom Voice. It’s been in development for a couple of years now, but I had the opportunity to roll it out then and there. Thankfully, it worked, and although I had to use it once more (at the same point at the Seoul airport), I’m hoping it won’t make any additional appearances this trip.
That’s pretty much it for the trip. We spent a looooooong time on airplanes. Oscar and Etta got into it a couple of times, but mostly that was attributable to Oscar being exhausted and wanting to sleep on me, while Etta was sitting on me. For most of the flight, Oscar sat in his seat watching Cars and dozing once in a short while. The flight to Bangkok was a lot easier, since Etta was mostly in the bassinet. Oh, and since it was less than half as long as the first flight.
The smartest thing I did so far was book the “premium flight service” (thanks, Stace), which meant that once we hit Bangkok, at 11 PM, we had a nice lady waiting for us in an electric cart, which whisked us away, past hundreds of others arriving at the same time, up to the Immigration lines. At first I thought this had been a waste of $70, since the walk didn’t look that long, but it ended up being quite far away, with a huge line of people. The thing that clinched it for me, though, was that the “fast track” customers have their own area, where there really aren’t lines, so when we were almost through immigration and found out that Etta needed a health clearance, it was no big deal to go get one and come back. And, I mean “no big deal” in the timing sense, don’t get me started on the fact that my infant child needed a health clearance based simply on the fact that she has an Ethiopian passport.
Regardless, 25 hours after the car picked us up at home, we were in our lovely hotel room. Wide awake, which leads me to now, almost a day later, at 10 PM, when we’re wide awake again. This is because I broke the first rule of beating jetlag (which is not the same as the first rule of fight club), we slept all day today. I know, I know. But I was not going to ruin my kids’ lives by making them stay up all day today just to reset their clocks. We got up at 5 AM, played, went to breakfast (where Etta charmed everyone by saying “thank you” – even for the guys who came up and said “they say she can talk, can we hear?”) and Oscar put on a dance show for the guests, walked around the hotel, where Oscar oohed and aahed all through the lobby and again, danced for anyone to see. We went back to the room, where I thought we’d wait until the kids club opened, and then it happened. They slept. I tried to wake them a couple of times, but then I gave in. We napped together until 7:30 PM, when we ordered dinner, had our room made up and are now hanging out playing. I’m hoping that they’ll want to crash again in a few hours and that tomorrow we can at least go see the reclining buddha. But, if we don’t, it’s no big deal. I had considered Bangkok simply a stopover so we could fight our jetlag. It’s looking like that might be all we manage, but everyone seems happy, so it looks like we’re okay for now.
Sorry the pics are so lousy, but here you go . . .
Fun in ‘Homa
We survived our first flights as a family of three! I considered this trip to see the grandparents to be a bit of a test run for our upcoming trip to Thailand, and from our travel experiences so far, I’m both reassured that we’ll manage fine and also a bit daunted. Oscar managed the trip fairly well, but both he and his sister are proving to be a bit clingy now that we’ve arrived at Grandma’s house (he refers to both Grandma and Papa as “Grandma”).
Oscar was, again, a fabulous flyer. He sat in his seat all by himself, without trying to push himself onto my lap, which was nice. He scored window seats after the gate agent noticed that American had reseated the two of us in different rows (geniuses). I was concerned that he would be scared of takeoff, but he loved it – yelling “go go go” to make the plane go faster. When we left Dallas we ran into some weather, and he was a little nervous in the clouds, but when we broke out of them to a point where he could look at the clouds all he could say was “wow” over and over. Very sweet.
Etta loved being the center of attention everywhere we went, with people on our flight from SFO stopping by to tell us how beautiful our little family is. Unfortunately, when we arrived in Oklahoma things changed. My previously “easy” daughter apparently is experiencing separation anxiety and has not allowed a single person other than me to touch her, which isn’t going over well with her cousins, aunt and grandparents, but we still have a few days left here.
Oscar and Etta both experienced their first summer storms (we don’t really have thunder and lightning in No. California, and it only rains between mid-October and March). Etta was clueless, but Oscar seemed to think the lightning and thunder were fun and the fact that it was raining when it was warm was awesome, apparently. He thought the first clap of thunder was “cool,” but the very loud lightning strikes were a bit scary until Papa yelled back at the lightning, which seemed to make everything okay.
Other than that, we’re just hanging out with the family. Oscar loooves his cousins, who seem to think he’s a new pet, chasing him around until he squeals. Grandma just made a big batch of chocolate chip cookies, which I suspect will be demolished by tomorrow morning.
A few pics from our afternoon today . . .
Life as a full-time (stay at home) mom
Before going out on maternity leave, I totally expected that I would spend more time blogging while I was out. Clearly, I would have more to blog about – entire days spent with the kids, with all of the photo ops that would naturally afford, would certainly lead me to write more. Turns out, that’s not the case.
I had forgotten one important fact. My life is sort of boring. Yeah, sure, staying home all day with the kids is fun for us, but who really wants to read about my attempts (failed) to teach Oscar to dress himself?
Or my daily campaign to keep my son out of my girly products?
Or my fading dream of raising a boy who appreciates good food?
Or my periodic reminders to myself that this leave is actually supposed to be for me to bond with Etta (which really is silly, since anyone who meets her bonds with her immediately)? Kidding, of course. You don’t see as many pics of Etta only because (1) she’s usually sitting or crawling on or over me, (2) we’re not accompanied on our outings with a photographer or (3) instead of snapping pics at home, I’m usually dropping the camera, asking “what is that in your mouth? no, no, you can’t eat ____.”
And, if I don’t blog about those things, there really isn’t all that much left to write about. Swimming lessons (for Etta, since Oscar is finished with that – bye bye swimming)? Our daily walk to see the train? The mystery illness that hit everyone in the house over the course of the past week? My trip to the FedEx office to apply for Etta’s visa to visit Thailand? I’m telling you, my life is chock-full of excitement. Here’s hoping our day tomorrow will be blog-worthy. . .
Time Flies
Can you believe it’s already been a month since Etta and I met? We’re slowly, but surely getting ourselves into a routine around here. Oscar no longer loses his cool each time his sister wakes up in the night (which thankfully is not often), and despite the fact that her chest rattle is still pronounced, he appears to ignore it now. It’s become similar to the noise of the cars passing by the house, I guess. I notice it more than he does, actually, especially when I listen to the two of them right after they fall asleep each night. I’m not sure who is louder, Oscar with his snoring or Etta with her raspy breathing. Together, in stereo, they have moved me to use my headphones when I watch television on my laptop at night, just to tune them out a little.
I broke down this weekend and admitted that I was going to have to make some adjustments if we were ever going to leave the house again. I’ve managed to figure out how to get us into the car easily, and car rides have been our outing of choice the past two weekends. Both kids seem to love them, and it’s a sure-fire way of getting them to nap. I’ve also figured out how to get us through a shopping trip at Targ3t. Sadly, though, if we are to do anything other than drive to and from Targ3t on the weekend, changes need to be made.
First, I bought a new child carrier. I managed to wreck my back the other day by lifting a tiny little book. That’s how old I am. Wearing Etta in her sling is no longer an option, so I got one of those ergonomic carriers, but without all that extra padding, etc. Not too hideous, I think.
I also bit the bullet and bought a double stroller. Given our car situation, obviously, any double stroller will be used solely at home (parks, etc.). Hence the need for the more usable baby carrier – I can carry Etta and push Oscar if I’m ever brave enough to head to the zoo – I’m psyching myself up for that this coming weekend). Since we’re about to move to a neighborhood that is far more stroller-friendly, though, I figured I’d try to help Norma’s knee by getting a stroller so she doesn’t have to wear anyone.
I’ve clearly been avoiding making this purchase. I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because double strollers are so incredibly expensive. Maybe it’s the fact I worry that Oscar is not going to let me push him in a stroller much longer. Maybe it’s because there’s some negative link in my brain to owning one (although I’m not sure what it could be other than their ugliness). Whatever the reason, I am the proud new owner of this:
It very well may be the largest stroller ever made, but for whatever reason, it’s the only double stroller that I like (and since this is last year’s color, I’m saving 34%, and you know I love a sale). I’m just hoping that Nanny Norma is big enough to see over it while pushing. The picture above really doesn’t give you the sense of just how big this thing is. You know you’re in trouble when the manufacturer posts a picture with a notation in bold that this product “fits through standard doors.”
Thinking through all of this, it occurs to me that one of the reasons I’ve held off on this purchase is that pushing a double stroller really announces to the world that I am a Mom. I know, I know. I’ve been a mom for a couple of years now, but having a second child pushed me into a new level of motherhood.
Being the mom of one child was really pretty easy. We were highly portable. Our equipment was minimal. We threw our tiny little Quinny stroller into our tiny little Mini and were on our way. If people saw us, they’d see a woman with a small child out and about. Now, there is nothing easy or portable about us. When people see us, they see a harried woman with two small children, one draped on her and the other either screaming on the ground or in a cart or stroller. Pushing the gargantuan monstrosity that is this particular stroller (weighing ~80 pounds all in with both kids sitting in it), I am far more visible than I had been before. I am also no longer a woman with a child. I’ve become a mom with two young kids. Somehow when my children outnumbered me, I lost my status as just a woman and became a mom instead.
When we’re out, I no longer get little smiles from other moms or remarks about Oscar’s cuteness. I get comments like “you’ve really got your arms full.” I get offers of assistance. Pitying glances. Acknowledgements that I do not appear to be capable of handling things on my own. Somehow this stroller makes all of that even more real. Buying it made me worry that the next step in my evolution as a mom will be to purchase a station wagon (a Volvo cross country, naturally; likely in navy). See, I’ve already taken the first step mentally.
When I was planning on having a second child, none of this really occurred to me. Clearly, I thought about the fact that life would be more difficult. That it would be much more challenging to simply get out the door. I never thought about the way people would see me, though. Or, more accurately, the way I would respond to the way people appear to view me. Actually, maybe what is challenging is not the way other people see me, but the way I see myself? I’ll have to think about that a little. Is this why people say that moving from one to two children was far more difficult than simply becoming a mom?
Mi casa es
de otre persona casa? What do you say when your house is someone else’s house? Anyway . . .
We’re moving! I found a super cute little house and I was able to talk my way to the top of the long list of prospective tenants (without even throwing down extra cash). Turns out the owner was “quite charmed” by me. Go figure. We’ll be moving in sometime before July, but I started my packing on Sunday.
First order of business is to jettison my excess baggage. I’ve been moving the same things across the country, from house to house, for years now. I need to pare things back. I’ve already hit my book collection. I have hundreds, if not thousands, of books. I am not going to move them again. . . even my law school books. I should probably say, especially my law school books. Salvation Army has already received a call from me to bring a truck so I can offload a ton (I hope, literally) of stuff. The goal is to fill my garage with unwanted objects. I’ve made a very good start.
The house we’re moving into is much smaller than where we are now. It’s about 2200 square feet, which honestly should be more than sufficient for two adults and two very small children. Somehow I have it in my mind that it’s actually more of a cottage than a house, but I suspect that it is, in fact, larger than any of the houses I lived in growing up. It’s just that I have so much crap I feel like I need extra space. I think it’s better to get rid of the crap and live in a smaller house than a huge crap-filled house.
Our little casita is in a flat area within a mile of the library and a great park, with a market just two blocks (score for Nanny Norma, it’s a Latin American grocery store). There’s a great patio area right outside the living and dining rooms, so we can open both sets of sliding doors on either side of the fireplace and let the kids come and go. We can do that because it is not in a foggy area, it’s located in a much sunnier area inland. Where? GET THIS – eight minutes away from my office. That’s right. I just gained over an hour a day with my children. And I didn’t have to move near se* offenders to do it!
I know moving is stressful and I hate to think of adding anything else to our collective plates right now, but I think the benefits (extra time and money, since this house is 30% less than what we’re paying right now) will make it worthwhile. Even getting Oscar to his doctors’ appointments will be easier, since they’ll no longer require me to take half a day off work. I might even be able to stop home for lunch periodically.
So, here it is, our new abode:
Alive and well
Just a quick note to let you know we’re home and doing pretty well. Before last night I would have said we were doing extremely well, but we took a few steps back somewhere between midnight and 4:00 am. Oscar is tolerating his sister. He even gave her a kiss a few minutes ago. He’s just having some difficulty coming to terms with the fact that there is a strange girl in his bedroom interrupting his sleep every night with her incessant chest rattle and crying for a bottle from time to time. Could be worse, though, since I’m a little surprised that Oscar is actually doing anything but ignoring Etta (or, worse, attempting to do her bodily harm).
I have not managed to get a photo of the two kids together (let alone all three of us), but here is a little something to tide you over.
Now what?
Thank you all for your sweet comments and wishes for our newly expanded family. For those of you who remarked, either here or on FB, about this all seeming like it flew by, you have no idea how accurate you are (well, with the exception of the four-day period immediately preceding the court date, which was torture). How fast was it? Well, when I accepted my referral I told myself that I was not going to start whining about getting a court date until 6 weeks after my referral. I put reminders on my Outlook calendar to notify me when each week had passed. This morning I looked at my calendar for next week and saw the reminder for next Tuesday – “Week 5 Finished”. . . and yet, I’ve already passed court and am waiting for my Embassy date. Unbelievable. What’s surprising to me is that three families, including mine, went onto the baby girl wait list within about a week of each other. We received referrals right before Christmas, January 8 (I remember because this made me #1) and then one month later on February 8 and yet we all passed court within two days of each other. Bizarre how that ended up working.
What happens next? Apparently I am waiting for Etta’s birth certificate and Ethiopian passport, which will then be delivered to the Embassy, along with a bunch of other docs, I imagine, in order for our Embassy appointment to be scheduled. We’ve been told end of April/beginning of May, but who knows? I think 6 families with my agency passed court this week, so hopefully we’ll have one or two nice travel groups.
In the meantime, I’ve put together a little gift for Etta that will be taken to her by a super generous and sweet mom with my agency. She’s leaving to pick up her son in just a couple of weeks. Another friend is just returning from Ethiopia right now with her daughter. She loved on Etta and took tons of pics and some video, so I can’t wait to get the details from her.
I’m also working on her American name. She is currently named Dink Alem, which means amazing world. Obviously, I love the name, but using the word “dink” in a house with a child from Vietnam does not seem appropriate. I’m 99% sure I’m naming her Gabre Ella Grayson (Gabre is an Ethiopian name), but I’ve changed my mind before, so . . .
So, that’s where we are. I’ve already started packing. Pathetic, I know, but it gave me an opportunity to take out Etta’s pretty little clothes (not that I’m taking many of those with me to Ethiopia – we all know the risk of giardia and blow-outs; I’m thinking we’ll take the basics and save the pretty stuff for home). I’ve been buying bows and headbands for my beautiful big bald baby and am even thinking about moving the crib into my room to get Oscar used to the change before I leave for Ethiopia.
Wait, did you get that? Yeah, “before I leave”. Not we. The accelerated timeline I am now on is not going to allow me to have much time in country. I just don’t think it makes sense to fly Oscar more than half way around the world, subject him to jetlag and then turn right around and subject him to another 33 hours of travel in which he can’t sit on my lap because the girl in all of those pictures is already on it. I hate the idea of leaving him at home, but I think it might be the smarter choice. Especially since reading the blog of a family who just traveled with their toddler son who passed out a day or two after arriving in Addis. He’s fine, but it really served as a reminder of just how exhausting travel can be. Of course, I’ve changed my mind on this twice already. . .
The Great Debate – Trans-Continental Travel with a Toddler?
Okay, I may have been a bit delusional optimistic when I said that I was taking Oscar to Ethiopia to meet Baby Etta. I am in the midst of quite the internal struggle on this, so I thought I’d see if any of you have some thoughts on the subject.
Here’s the situation. Oscar and I have had some attachment difficulties, although we’re in a good spot right now. He’s even learning to separate from me more easily than he has in the past. While I’ve never had to leave him overnight to travel for work, I have had to work overnight, which is the same thing to him. He does fine with it, although he is understandably a little more clingy when I return. I haven’t left him for more than one night, though.
I obviously have two alternatives – take him to Ethiopia or leave him at home. Escort is a third, but that’s not for me. If he goes with me, I’ll take my mom as well. If he stays at home, he’ll be there with Nanny Norma and both of my parents (whom he adores).
Taking Oscar to Ethiopia:
Pros:
- Oscar will be there when our family is “created”;
- Oscar will get to see Etta’s homeland (although this will really mean that he’ll see the Addis Ababa airport twice, a guest house, an orphanage (which actually worries me) and a care center and maybe Sidama);
- Oscar and I will not be separated;
- We would avoid the situation where I return from a one-week long absence to a stressed out Oscar, who sees me holding another child, and that child does not go away;
- We might be able to visit Etta’s birth family;
- People say that newly adopted children transition more easily when other children are present;
- I will not be freaking out constantly worrying about Oscar;
- Since my official maternity leave won’t start until later in the year, traveling together would give us more time to bond before I have to return from “vacation” and get back to the office;
- I like being around Oscar, traveling with him and my mom could be fun; and
- Depending on our route, we could possibly tack on a couple of days in Rome or Cairo or even just looking around Ethiopia (you know I love a good vacation, even if it’s brief).
Cons:
- 17 hours in a plane with a non-verbal toddler;
- jet-lag after a trans-continental trip with a toddler (for all three of us – on both legs of the trip);
- I would be obsessed about keeping Oscar healthy en route and in country (mostly worried that he was going to get water in his mouth while bathing) and I’d likely freak about whether my mom would stay healthy, too;
- Oscar is hitting that picky toddler stage when he’s really tough to feed – he’s only eating fruit and cookies right now, which could be extremely difficult (but really, there’s always mac and cheese in a box that I could take with us; he’ll eat when he’s really hungry, right?);
- My dad would have to stay home, since traveling for 30+ hours is not a possibility, and that would suck for him and my mom;
- My mom would be constantly worrying about my dad; and
- $4000, give or take, in additional airfare, etc. That would pay for a lot of speech therapy.
Traveling alone, with Oscar at home with Norma, Grandma and Grandpa:
Pros:
- I would have a few days alone with Etta and an opportunity to get to know her, focused solely on her;
- I would avoid all of the “cons” listed above;
- I could theoretically travel to see Etta’s birth family (if possible);
- Oscar’s routine remains unaltered, with the bonus of having Grandma and Grandpa at his house, taking him to the zoo, beach, etc. during the week, with the added bonus that apparently Grandma remembers how to bake when she’s around her grandson, so there would be fresh chocolate chip cookies;
- I would be able to take Ambien both on the way to Ethiopia (arriving somewhat rested, since I’ll take Emirates and stay overnight in Dubai) and again when I return home (since I’d ask my parents to help with the kids the first two nights back – NOTE to my parents – I did not do this with Oscar, but I will be doing it with Etta; just a heads up if we go this route), so I think this is the clear winner if I’m focused only on jet lag (which I’m not – but four people suffering from jet lag instead of two is obviously a worse thing); and
- Who is to say that our family is “created” when I meet Etta and not when I take her to meet her brother?
Cons:
- I would want to make the trip as brief as possible, which could result in my not getting to see Etta’s birth family;
- From my perspective, a week without Oscar;
- From Oscar’s perspective, an eternity without mom, followed by her return with a baby who always wants to be in her arms – oh, and mom is really cranky;
- Our attachment journey has already been rocky; adding a child is going to hit it hard – doing that after a week’s absence could be very detrimental;
- This is the tougher option for Nanny Norma, since there will only be ~10 days between Oscar meeting Etta and my returning to work, instead of 16; and
- I really dislike the idea of not taking Oscar with me to meet his sister; I feel like this might be a mistake, although I can’t explain why.
Thoughts?
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Etta’s Hats
Where I’ve Been
