August 16, 2008

So, I’ve received a couple emails suggesting that in ADDITION to being overwhelmingly interested in how my family and I fought with each other across Ethiopia, they are hoping for an update on how we are all adjusting since being home. I concur. Here’s a brief battle station update.

Siyum is eating like a CHAMP. It’s almost like when you feed a goldfish, how you must actually ration the food because the goldfish will just eat and eat and eat until they explode. It is not unlike feeding a Siyum. The child can eat. It’s fabulous, we do a little protein dance with every morsel knowing all the goodness that’s being ingested into his cute little self. GIANT PUBLIC THANK YOU to Tarah, Superwoman Extraordinaire, who brought us over Injera and Wot the other day and was able to send Siyum to cloud nine for a good 3 days while he INHALED every scrumptious bite of the familiar Ethiopian dish. It was a wonderful gift. Three cheers for Tarah.

Siyum is sleeping like a champ as well, typically 14 hours a night. NO JOKE. But Jamie? How is it even possible to sleep for 14 hours straight? Oh. Oh, it’s entirely possible. Plus a nap on top of THAT. I think he might be growing? We could be wrong. Thoughts on this?

Siyum ADORES his sister DeeDee. They are two peas in a pod and crack each other up hourly. It’s been a smorgasbord of giggles around this place. Giggles and poop. The other morning, Delaney climbed into Siyum’s crib as he was waking up at ELEVEN THIRTY IN THE MORNING (ah, sweet victory) and the two of them laid in the crib together laughing and playing games for a good solid hour before they made any attempt to start the day. They were perfectly happy laying there giggling with their stankmouth morning breath all up in each other’s faces. It was really quite cute.

Siyum’s health is surprisingly fabulous. NO GIARDIA! Woohoo! We were ALL prepared to go to battle with worms and gross things in his poop and are blissfully happy with just the regular kid turds he ejects. Who knew we’d be so happy about poop. His bloodwork indicates he is low on vitamin D and Iron, which is no surprise and should be remedied over time with our friends, The Flintstones. All in all, the boy is a wonder.

Emotion-wise, he’s freakishly good. The only time he has cried has been when he woke up the first couple nights and thought he was alone in the room, when he fell off the toilet and when the nurse brought out the needles. All three experiences left PERMANENT deep scars on my heart, poor little dude. It’s the saddest thing because he tries SO HARD not to cry, he only quietly lets it out as a whimper but the tears just stream down his face. Like a knife through my heart, man, it’s rough.

Cute-wise, he is still really really really cute.

And so there’s the update on Little Man. The update on US: We are exhausted and often leave the house without diapers and wipes, we’ve been on vacation from diaper land for so long, it’s funny and a little crappy (no pun intended) to be back.

Mike is working a lot and loves telling people he is a MALE Nurse. Or Murse.

And I am working quite a bit as well, leaving us to do the work-schedule-balance-dance everyday. It’s worked out pretty well, one of us is always with the kids. Plural. Kids.

Good news is that I love my new job. And that’s a wrap! Ethiopia Trip Day 3 coming soon! More train wreck of a family vacation coming your way!

August 14, 2008

For some INSANE reason that I have since forgotten or blocked from my memory forever, I agreed to let my brother Burke and my sister Audrey stay the night at my house the night prior to our leaving for 2 weeks to Africa together. They were at my house for our “Pre-Africa Sleepover!” but were not necessarily SLEEPING - per say. None of us were, actually. And since it was my party and I could cry if I wanted to, I totally did and I am still to this day quite proud of myself for doing so. I never, ever, never, ever cry and the prior week of pretending that PACKING IS FUN!!! and acting as if we were TOTALLY READY TO BRING ANOTHER CHILD HOME!!! had really worn me out. We all know how painfully exhausting it is for me to maintain self-composure. Ugh.

So, there we all are, cracked out on Africa adrenaline and not sleeping. So my husband, being the resourceful and thoughtful man that he is, put us all to work and assigned household cleaning duties to each of us with varying degrees of difficulty depending on our individual cracked-outness. Jobs ranged from vacuuming to changing light bulbs to dumping trash and organizing cupboards. Because LEST WE FORGET: My Mother-in-Law and Sister-in-Law were flying up to stay at our house for a week and a half to care for the child already in existence as a member of the Battle Station Clan while we all left to go retrieve the Imaginary Boy. So, if that doesn’t just make you hyperventilate thinking about your MIL and SIL chillin at your house without you there to sweep any dried poop under the fridge in the mornings before they wake up, well then you are quite strange and devoid of human emotion. Because THAT’S SOME SCARY STUFF RIGHT THERE and we, as in Mike and I, were feelin every prickly rush of fear in our bodies that night as all of us Zombie Merry Maids routinely checked for rings in the toilets at 2 am. Later, when we all dozed off at 3 am with our alarms set for 4:45, I thought to myself, that was dumb.

But, nevertheless, we were off! At 5:15 am, my Mom and Dave met up with us and we all loaded up into two stylish minivan cabs and then waited a few moments while the two cabbies YELLED, in the wee hour of the morn, at us, at each other and into their walkie-talkies back and forth from our driveway. They seemed to be confused and possibly thought they were at a KISS Concert? We kindly reminded them that all the houses around us and in our very close proximity were full of sleeping humans. And also, we happened to be standing right in front of them, the yelling was not necessarily needed in a setting such as this, thanks so much. We depart to the airport. We think the cabbies are racing each other but we could also be imagining this and every now and then, one of us has a sudden and frightening flashback of Mike the Merry Maid Director.

Boise to Chicago was about a 3 hour flight and what would have been a nice and much needed cat nap was actually one dude with an entire airplane’s worth of a captive audience. So far the trip has been a little bit manic, a little bit tiring and a lot louder than I had expected. But let us proceed towards the Imaginary Boy.

We’re in Chicago! I think we stepped out of the plane, took about 2.5 steps and already ran into skaters Burke knew. This is what happens. Burke and the skaters, they hone in on each other’s whereabouts and pick up on each other’s skatestink.

There he is talking with one of about 5 dudes he knew in the Chicago airport. He’s CLEARLY not just a LOCAL Celebrity anymore. No Ma’am.

Chicago layover is 4 hours and during that time we managed to spend about $3,867 on airport cuisine and random “necessities” like magazines and books, neck pillows and pills. We are quite obviously hardened travelers. I think we even bought a t-shirt that says “Chicago!” on it. We strive to maintain a healthy sense of consumerism.

Back on an airplane destined to Frankfurt, an 8 hour flight. We fly Lufthansa and are pleasantly surprised by the good food, free beverages, in flight movies and friendly flight attendants. So far, we love Lufthansa and ask how we can sign up for the Lufthansa Cheerleading Team.

This was after we landed and really, I have no idea why Mike is making this face. He slept the ENTIRE TIME. The Jerk. I literally remember us walking to our seats at the beginning of the Lufthansa flight, finding our row, shimmying in, putting my things under the seat in front of me and as I was buckeling my seat belt, I glanced over at Mike and he was already PASSED OUT, totally asleep. Like with pools of drool already forming around the creases of his mouth. And he stayed in this comatose state the ENTIRE 8 hours of flying time. So. Do NOT think he is justified in making this face WHATSOEVER.

I hate people who can sleep on airplanes. I hate what you have. I hate that I don’t have it.

So here we all are in Frankfurt.

I am very much enjoying having the camera. I love my new job title as “Documenter of the Experience”. These things coupled with the fact that I am EX.HAUSTED beyond belief make me the crowd favorite. Especially when I keep taking shots like this.

Someone takes the camera. We end up with this shot instead:

You tell me which “Documenter of the Experience” YOU would rather travel with.

I know, right? People don’t understand my ART.

So, Frankfurt Layover. Let me refer to my notes. 2 hour layover. Burke’s skateboard is confiscated, Burke throws a fit nothing short of amazing, a temper tantrum so grotesque, He MIGHT have even thrown himself on the floor and rolled around crying and kicking his feet. I don’t know. I was as physically FAR AWAY as I could be, hiding behind a payphone with a suitcase over my head, doing everything in my power not to drop-kick his spleen into downtown Frankfurt.

Let’s see. More Frankfurt notes. Ah yes. The first signs of pink eye show up in Frankfurt. The first signs show up on Audrey, on her left eye, to be exact. We were having an Espresso together and she asked me if something was in her eye. I looked over at her and I’m not gonna lie, it looked like DEATH had taken a shat RIGHT IN her eye. In and around her eye. I grimaced and looked away, hoping I hadn’t stared into the eye of death itself and would be cursed with the same condition. The stinkeye jokes ensue. This would be a constant source of comedy throughout the entire trip, little did we know.

Frankfurt to Addis, we all sleep the full 8 hours. Blissful, interrupted repeatedly, sleep for 8 hours. We arrive in Addis at 7 pm their time. We all get off the plane and take a long hard look at each other and learn that I HAD fallen victim to the stinkeye and Mike had popped a blood vessel in his left eye. We looked haggard, like we had all been sucker-punched in the jaw.

There’s the Addis Airport - yay! We made it!

And there’s our Tour Guide and Driver! Yay! Shameless plug here for Jacaranda Tour Company. They were AMAZING. Always on time, always professional, always took care of us, always did everything right. LOVE LOVE LOVE THEM! Especially after our fiasco with Susan Parr Travel, we really came to appreciate Jacaranda, they never let us down. Love them. Did I mention we loved them?

All 14 of our suitcases made it, amazingly. We headed out to the Ghion Hotel for our very first night in Ethiopia.

In the lobby of the Ghion, waiting to get our rooms. Notice our personal space bubbles are getting larger by the moment.

Lobby of the Ghion, other direction. I’ll be honest, I really don’t remember much from this night. I think we eventually unloaded our suitcases in our rooms and went to sleep. I do remember eating a late dinner in the Ghion Restaurant and I do remember a cat meowing from the kitchen as they were preparing our food. Which is not a lie.

Our bathroom.

Our 1950’s marital twin beds.

Me with my last happy face of the day. The last one I had.

And that’s a wrap. Day one was actually about a 36 hour day when it was all said and done. Successful in that we made it to Ethiopia and we did not murder Burke and stuff his body in an airport trash can. Unsuccessful in that it seemed we were running the stinkeye rampant throughout our travel party. But what’s a little poop in the eye, you know? That’s what I always say.

Look out for Day 3 coming soon! (Day 2 was in combination with Day 1)

August 8, 2008

We FINALLY made it back, clawing our way through the door frame of our home by our fingernails 4 days ago. But we made it. No thanks to Susan Parr Travel. We’ll get into that in a bit.

But the funniest, strangest thing happened. Siyum? That boy? He is an ACTUAL BOY. Actually actual. Actually.

I know, right? Who expected THAT?!

When we pulled into the care center and stepped out of the van I thought to myself “That little boy running at us looks an awfully lot like those photos we have of an imaginary child named Siyum. How bizarre!” And before I knew it, the little imaginary boy was in my arms and hugging my neck. I could feel that he was there in my arms but just to make sure, I looked over at Mike and was about to ask,”Hey the face on my shoulder…is it really HIS face on my shoulder?” but judging from the tears in Mike’s eyes, I started putting two and two together and realized all at once that this was the imaginary boy that had actually been a REAL boy that whole time and this was us meeting him. Quick I am.

Photo of Mike first holding him:

And Siyum, later, in pink pajamas:

I think what I’m going to do is do a post for every day we were there with a couple pictures from each day. And I’m excited to do that because I want to remember each day we were there, all the beautiful country we saw and all the amazing people we met. So saddle up! Two weeks of traveling with my INSANE family across Ethiopia to pick up our 2.5 year old son is all about to be documented “Battle Station Style” on the blawg.

Thanks to many of you for checking in with me. I’m apologizing in advance for a slowdown in email responses over the next few weeks. But your emails are very much appreciated and I can’t wait to share with everyone our experience.

Stay tuned.

Jamie. The one with two kids.

July 16, 2008

Remember how I logged on here yesterday and cried? Well, the theory is proven YET AGAIN, as soon as I complain, I get what I want. My husband learned this ages ago and apparently, the Ethiopian Government has learned as well.

We get to go get him!

Excuse me while I plaster the internet with cuteness beyond belief. I present to you Siyum Yohannes. Behold his sweet and amazing face.

Don’t you just want to EAT HIM UP HE’S SO CUTE?!?! You do. I know you do. I do.

Oh and we are leaving……..(wait for it)………(wait for it)………(drum roll please)… SUNDAY!

HOLY SCHNIKIES.

Love you all. Thank you so much for all your support throughout this crazy process. I’ve appreciated more than you’ll ever know.

Jamie, Mike, Delaney and Siyum Yohannes

July 15, 2008

Hi. My name is Jamie and I’m a bad blogger. The first step is acceptance.

The truth of the matter is that I didn’t feel like talking about ANYTHING ELSE except traveling to Ethiopia to pick up our son Siyum. I didn’t want to log on here and talk about how we went swimming and how we’ve painted our bedroom and lit fireworks on the fourth of July. I wanted to log on, post pictures of Siyum’s cute face and then yell in all caps that we are going to Ethiopia to get him.

But alas, that is just not happening. We still don’t have a travel date. I thought for sure we would be in Ethiopia by now. And we is SO NOT.

So, I’m sorry for not posting. For a MONTH. That’s why. I had my next post all lined out and this was not it. I’m, at this point, what we like to call ANNOYED.

June 18, 2008

These are the pictures of our family that we sent to Siyum in Ethiopia. The Nannies at the care center show the books to the children so they can start to recognize us as their family.

Hello Siyum. We are your family. Part of your family. Your American family, because you will always have your Ethiopian family. But we are the ones who will fly in, pick you up, talk in a language you won’t understand and then fly you approximately 32 hours to a land where french fry grease is the national aroma. We’re THOSE people. We don’t blame you for being scared out of your mind. Just as forewarning, we will also be that family that will cheer too loudly at your soccer games and will tell you we love you in front of your friends. The good news is that upon arrival of that giant airplane, there will be lots of balloons and bright poster signs that say “Welcome Home Siyum!” and the littlest person in this picture will be there waiting. If you just look right at her, right in her eyes and not at all the bright flashing lights and speeding golf carts and giant circular metal jaws of suitcase vomiting death, you will feel okay. Stick with her, she’s a good one.

Here we are again. You will notice that we are White. That’s probably a little weird for you. And that weirdness will likely stick around for the majority of your childhood, teenage and young adult life. We apologize about that. Truly. Just know, we are working on ways to make it less weird. We’ve requested the manual “How White Parents Should Raise Black Adopted Children Without Ever Making Mistakes” along with “How All Parents Should Raise All Children Without Ever Making Mistakes; Volume One” and are anxiously awaiting their arrivals. We figure with these two manuals combined, nothing can go wrong.

But really, we are working on ways to make this less weird.

There’s your sister. She says she is going to teach you how to get your teeth knocked out. This way you guys can look like your cousin Mialee who is missing a front tooth. So. Something to look forward to. In addition to learning English vocab through Justin Timberlake songs. You may not know the whole American alphabet by the end of summer but you WILL know how to say “I’m bringin sexy back.”

She’s a little wild and can be quite bossy. But I’ll teach you some ways to annoy the crap out of her, some useful tips in sweet revenge, if you will. Things like eating all the red Popsicles, walking through one of her baby doll napping circles and worst of all, turning down an already in play Miley Cyrus song. You and I, Si, we shall collaborate in this endevour. You need not fear.

This is Delaney again with the guy who will be your Dad. He is really banking on you fixing the current female over-population problem he seems to think we have. You will be expected to help his cause when it comes to votes on movies we rent, places we eat, music we listen to in the car and the family therapist we will likely need to see. A lot is riding on your swing votes Siyum. And so help me, if you show a preference for Bob Dylan over my CLEARLY more refined taste of Lil Wayne…. my memory is like a STEEL TRAP and come red Popsicle eating time, things could get a little dodgy. That’s all I’m sayin. Let that be a warning.

There we are again, your Mom and Dad. Once you have settled in here a bit and maybe gotten to know some other Moms and Dads, you might begin to realize that your Mom and Dad are slightly different than other Moms and Dads. You see Siyum, there was an emotion cross-wire which occurred within both of us parents at birth and now, sadly, we have both been left with the emotions of the opposite sex. So, in short, Mommy acts like a Daddy and Daddy acts like a Mommy. I know, it’s rare and unfortunately, incurable. As strange as it is, your DADDY is the one who cries at meaningful crap and likes to TALK and SHARE thoughts and discussions, who apologizes and resolves issues and HUGS. He hugs. And your MOMMY, well she gets blotchy and hive-like if she feels a tear coming on. Or a hug for that matter. But together, we are still a balanced couple, just reversed. When you have a problem with a kid at school, your DAD will be the one to tell you to gently speak with this other child using phrases like “When you do this, it makes me feel this….” and I will be the one to tell you to go ahead and punch that kid in the kidney.

They are circumstances we have come to accept, you will too, over time.

Don’t be frightened. This is a family pet, we CHOOSE to live with this animal. Her name is Annie. She’s not very smart. I’m not being mean, she really is ranked, her breed, in the bottom five of ALL DOG BREEDS for dog intelligence. But she’s incredibly sweet and happy and will lick you as if your face was a salt lick. She’s a good family dog. And since you will be in the family, she will be your family dog too.

So, that’s us! Let’s see if we went over everything. French Fry Grease, Red Popsicles, Ramifications of Picking Bob Dylan, Freak Emotional Cross-Wire Accident, Ugly Dumb Dog, Justin Timberlake….. I think that’s it. We’ve covered all the primary details you will need to know. Except one last thing.

We love you so much and have a place in our lives waiting to be filled by you. We’re coming, sweet boy, we’ll be there soon. In about 4 more weeks.

Love,

Your Mom, Dad, Sister and ugly Dog.

June 3, 2008

Something I haven’t mentioned before mainly because I was afraid of stalkers, murderers and psychopaths (or even worse a psychopathic stalker who murders, all wrapped up into one person) finding me and performing the aforementioned acts upon me if I mentioned this. But now is a good time to mention it. For the past 9 months that we have been waiting on the adoption train, I have been making Lattes and Americanos in the wee hours of the morning at a certain worldwide coffee company that starts with an S and rhymes with Narbucks.

Yes I have. That was ME that you had make 15 cappuccinos during the rush of 7 am. Jerk.

I can tell you now from first hand experience that you really can set an alarm clock for 4:30 am. That function really is available. And sure enough, the alarm WILL sound at that Godforsaken hour. I’ve tested the theory, it’s peer reviewed and proven. And now, just like in one of those fancy University studies, I get compensation for participating!

Narbucks has this things called an adoption grant for it’s employees. And just like magic, four thousand narbucks appeared in my bank account on Friday. It was a beautiful, beautiful thing. Almost as beautiful as my cappuccino foam.

I learned a LOT working at Narbucks and to be honest, I had a REALLY good time. Granted, the PLAN (ha) was to only work there for 3 months, just long enough for my benefits to kick in, grab the money and run, laughing maniacally all the way. BUT, as International Adoption goes, it goes slow. er. than expected. My estimated Barista time went from 3 months to 9 months and normally I would have been really, REALLY mad about that since I like everything to go as planned, but in this case, I donned the apron and happily worked one of the funnest jobs I have ever had.

And a few things? Be nice to your Narbucks Baristas. You may or may not be drinking a Cinnamon Dolce Latte made by a single Mother of 3 or a struggling Grad student or a retired airline stewardess or a LAWYER, for crying out loud. All of which I made Chai’s alongside. And if not, just know, the decaf button is really very close to the caffeine button and can easily be confused. Also, your double tall nonfat no whip mocha MAAAAYYYY be made with half and half. I’m just sayin.

In addition to learning a lot about myself during my Narbucks time, I learned a lot about people. And how you can tell a lot about a person by what they drink. Also when they are in a hurry. Doppio Espresso Machiatto versus Soy Chai. Vanilla Steamer versus Triple Grande Latte. Black Drip versus Peppermint White Mocha. Which drinks take the time to learn our names and tell us about their Grandkids and which drinks yell that their Latte isn’t at 195 degrees. Which drinks come to our Narbucks Girls Dinners and our Narbucks Baby Showers and which drinks haven’t made eye contact in the entire 9 months of coming there.

It’s all just very interesting, isn’t it? And DO I have some stories. Do I ever. I feel like if you are a Psychologist or especially a Social Psychologist, you need to take an intern position at Narbucks for 9 months. This should be regulated as mandatory hours towards your education of all the FREAKY PEOPLE in the world. You could even do like one of our regulars does and set up your office WITHIN Narbucks! Take phone calls there, have appointments and interviews there, reserve a table every day and have your Wall Street Journal delivered to you in care of the coffeeshop! Please see me privately for a list of potential patients in the greater Boise area.

Tell me, friends, what is YOUR Narbucks drink? And how long have you been drinking it?

May 19, 2008

So, after coming down off of THAT week long high, man, there just isn’t a drug out there as good as that feeling. I don’t even have to be a recovering addict to know that. THIS is better. All those addicts need to try THIS! Addicts need to adopt!

Mmmmm. Scratch that.

Our feet hit the ground finally after getting the call and then after that a gigantic, heaping pile of crap followed suit and fell on top of us too. Large turds of shock and overwhelmedness and stinky, sticky morsels of panic. WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DO.

We also have a very tiny, very sick, very malnourished little boy. And there’s no pooper-scooper that can pick up and fix that reality. Yet. We are capable and eager to rise to the challenge that will be his future health problems upon arriving in his new home, but we ARE faced with the stressful and frightening numbers that look out at us from his medical reports. Friends, he was brought in just in time. I really feel that way. And we are SO incredibly relieved to know that he truly is now in the BEST hands possible over there at our agency’s care center. They are miracle workers over there, literally bringing children back to life and then sending them on to live that life with their new families. I could just hug each and every one of them. And I will. For probably longer than what’s comfortable or necessary.

But he’s perfect. He really is.

Mike is doing what he does when faced with adversity. He fights it with extremes. For example, after getting the reviews of Siyum’s medical reports back from our International Pediatrician, I was soaking in the stark reality of our son’s health when Mike goes “HE JUST NEEDS A COUPLE PROTEIN SHAKES.” I looked at him. “EIGHT OR NINE PROTEIN SHAKES” he says again. I make a face at him and say “Okay, Babe? Let’s put on our serious grown-up hats for a minute, okay? Are you ready for this? This little person is in the THIRD percentile for height and weight. He’s barely living, he’s more SURVIVING. We’re looking at a little 2 year old boy with so little calcium that his bones hurt, so little protein that his hair won’t grow, so little vitamins that his abdomen is distended.” Mike lifted his face from the piles of medical books and papers he had been buried in and says, in all seriousness, “I’m in. That’s my son. Let’s get him home.”

I don’t think we could optimistically move forward the way we have without the knowledge of MANY other families who we’ve seen bring home sick kids, even sicker, MUCH sicker than Siyum and make amazing recoveries. Children are so resilient and our bodies are so talented at re-grouping. It’s astounding what the body can do. Even now with how sick Siyum is, his body continues to protect his mind. The body will always do everything possible to protect the brain and so even though Siyum’s weight and height are so low, his head circumference is considered normal, his 2.5 year old mind has been spared much of the damage of malnutrition. Now we just have to put in that mind things like safety, trust, security, imagination and laughter. We’ll teach him how. We’ll teach him how to fart. This is number one on the list of things to do.

I made Siyum a photo album today. One of the generous adoptive moms is taking it over to Ethiopia with her when she goes on Friday. I included pictures of Delaney being silly and us as a family hugging and smiling. I copied Amharic alphabet letters to label “Mom” “Dad” “Sister” and added stickers and drawings. And then I freaked out because it wasn’t good enough. Siyum would hate my sloppy handwriting. He would be able to tell that I ran out of stickers towards the end and used WAY TOO MANY stickers on the first pages. He would be embarrassed to show his friends the photo album. I called Mike at work to tell him. And to yell at him for not helping me pick out more stickers. Ones with soccer balls and rainbows. THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE! THANKS A LOT! NOW THERE’S JUST SAILBOAT STICKERS LEFT FOR THE LAST PAGE! AND WE DON’T SAIL! WE ARE A FRAUD! WE’RE ALREADY LYING TO HIM!

So. Needless to say. I’m still as crazy as ever. Get ready. There’s still 2 more months until travel….