Bedtime Stories

Today if something could go wrong,
It.
DID.
Go.
Wrong.

I have to say that all in all; we rose above it. We laughed deliriously in the face of adversity. At one point we were so delirious that Troy was driving and he said, in all seriousness, "Wait. where are we and where are we going?" Yes, for a moment he very literally had no idea where he was headed... such is life right now.

Because of a one vehicle situation, my parents agreed to come get me at 6am to bring me to St. Paul. They also needed to be in the capitol city at the same time It was a well thought out plan, it made sense. Troy planned to wake up, get the kids situated then keep loading things up to move out of here. I woke up at 5am, got myself and Lyd ready and Dad showed up at 6:15. If you knew how many things have gone wrong getting the dossier together, this story would have greater impact ... no time for that tonight - besides, it is soooo boring. Suffice it to say, adoption paperwork is kicking our butts.

I may have adopted in 2002, but that was a lifetime ago ... A time when I had two kids and full brain function. This time around adoption has been like a mean next door neighbor kid that taunts and tricks. Just when we think we've made peace with the kid, BAM he pulls another fast one on us.

As we got closer to St. Paul and the sun came up, I began to review the documents that would be authenticated. It instantly became clear that at least one and probably more of the notarized documents were missing. I began to cry. My dad made some smart remark, something like, "Wow I was with you for an hour and a half before you cried." He's a real sensitive guy that Dad of mine.

I called Troy and asked him to go from Zimmerman (the house we own and live in until we go back to Haiti) to Ham Lake (the house we lived in for three months also Matt and Tina's home) to PLEASE GET THE STUPID DOCUMENTS SO I CAN FINALLY BE DONE WITH THIS TASK. (You'll recall I am motivated by the satisfaction of a task finished.) Troy was equally bummed. It meant I would sit with Lyd at the SOS office for hours and he would drive for hours. Lame. Not a wise use of time. Not what we had in mind. Once again adoption kicks our butt.

Dad and Mom dropped me off to go onto their own task. After clarifying the fees and the options with the lady at the information desk, I took Lyd to change her. As I washed my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror to see big black lines streaked down my face. I blame this on Paige and Uncle Rick. I had to borrow Paige's mascara. I did not know she does not use a waterproof product. Rick did not know the dire need I have for a quality, tear-proof mascara at this time of my life. He send my toiletry bag from Iowa regular mail. It has not arrived yet. I was loaned an inferior eye-lash enhancing product. That information lady talked to me with huge black streaks on my face and did not tell me. Wonderful.

I settled in for some quality time with Lydia and a 2006 issue of US Magazine. Lyd pooped incredibly loud in an explosive, leave the diaper - head up the back -type manner in the office of the Secretary of State. No respect for the office of Mark Ritchie. Once the outfit was changed and she looked good once again she puked curdled milk. Because I am brand new to this baby raising thing and have not a clue how to pack a diaper bag, she was forced to sit in the stench. For hours. As we waited. Because we have lots of time to sit idle.

Nothing. But. Time.

When Troy walked in with aforementioned missing documents I felt the end of this major step drawing near and sighed a deep, loud sigh of relief. Victory. Was. Mine. If only for a brief moment of time. I will get up at 5am and sit in an office building wasting precious time with a stinky baby ANY DAY if it eventually equals the kind of satisfaction I felt when walking out of there.

Many moons later we got back to Zimmerman. Troy pretended it was 8am again and started loading things. He wore one of the renters sweatshirts just to join in on the fun. A Harley Davidson sweatshirt to be exact. That women best come get her crap out of this house. Troy will kill me when he reads I told you that. If I turn up missing, please report him and check the bottom of the lake.

I am chipper tonight. Two things that had been stressing me and causing ridiculous volumes of worry have been resolved. It is not the Suburban or the house though, sooooo ... good news for you! They're both still available. May the best man win. Open bidding begins now.

There is more to the story of today, more bridges to cross and troubles to solve. I will save that for another day. It is time to cuddle and rest.