Poof!

Now that I can consider myself a world traveler, I have noticed how a people or a region might mark themselves by the colloquialisms they use. For example, here in Medellin when you are having a great day and the weather is nice, you might say, “Ay, que dia, no?” I myself have an expression I like to use to describe days like the one I had today. It’s an old expression that my people have been using to describe days like the one I had today for years, and it goes like this: CRAP ASS.

Please, say it with me: CRAP ASS. It sounds even nicer with a Colombian accent. “Ay, que CRAP ASS es el dia!”

So let me tell you the tale of my day of crap-assness now.

It all began at 2:30 AM when my perfect little Colombian Orphanage sleeper decided it was time to get with the program and perform a little night-waking routine like those cool American babies he keeps hearing about. He downed almost 9 oz of milk over a period of three hours (don’t judge me moms…you weren’t there) which was amazing since he was only taking 5 oz back when we first got him on Tuesday. At 5:30 am, he finally fell into a deep sleep and so did I.

At 8 AM I was awoken again, this time by a terrible smell emanating from our bathroom. I figured it was dirty diapers so I tied up the garbage bag and set them in the hallway but that only seemed to make the smell worse. I realized there was a sewage problem and called down to the front desk to ask for maintenance to please check out the garbage stink in our bathroom. (“Los Judeos in cuarta 244 tiene un odor de basura!”)

After breakfast (still waiting for maintenance…we’re on Colombian time) I left Mia with Josh and the baby with Fanny so I could steal some exercise. About a mile into my treadmill run Fanny came in with Mason to tell me that housekeeping had paid a visit and blamed the smell on a mystical combination of food and diapers. Hmmmm……food that we do not eat in the bathroom and diapers that were thrown away four hours ago have mysteriously formed a magic stench union that is so far unexplainable by science or logic. Needless to say I had to get off the treadmill (It was a nice idea while it lasted) and go upstairs to check out the situation….that’s when I saw the red message light flashing on the telephone.

The message was from Gloria, our driver and guide. “Please Erin you call to me. I have important message for you from the lawyer. There is some problem.”

As I mentioned a few entries back, our lawyer does not speak to us. I am assuming this is because she does not speak English although I can’t be sure. But now this woman who was completing our adoption of Mason had called Gloria to say there was again a problem with the various ways in which Josh’s name is spelled on his various documents…sometimes he is “Josh”, sometimes he is “Joshua”, and on his passport there is a typo making him “Johsua”. All of this had been previously addressed in New York with a notarized name affidavit and then AGAIN in Medellin with a three hour visit to the local “Notario”, yet still we were being told that there was a problem. A problem so great in fact, that Josh and Mia might not be able to travel home tomorrow as planned.

Now Gloria was calling to ask me for two simple documents, the first was the “I.D.E.” Do any of you have any idea what an I.D.E. is? Me neither. I think a friend of mine had one inserted once to prevent pregnancy. I’ve never had one myself and I certainly didn’t have such a document with my paperwork.

The second was the “Social Security Paper”. I assumed they meant card, but Gloria said “No, only the paper!” I tried to explain, “But Gloria, Social Security Identification is only a number that people remember….some people have the card to go with it but we didn’t bring that with us. It might be at home and could be faxed but all you should require is the number.” OK, Gloria was going to call me back in an hour. Colombian time.

Back to the bathroom... After several visits from different housekeepers with different air-freshening spray-cans, the stink was slowly overtaking our room. We had to open the window to let the baby breathe fresh air while he napped and I had a call in to the manager to discuss the possibility of switching rooms. FINALLY, two maintenance engineers came by. They took my now-empty trash can and filled it with water. “It’s not the garbage can!” I insisted….but then I stopped and watched them pour the water directly onto the ground and into a little drain in the floor. They began to speak rapidly in Spanish and I had to have Fanny translate.

“You have to pour water to the floor here. You pour the water into that drain and it cleans away the bad smell.”

I wanted to laugh but guess what? The smell started to dissipate. Ah, silly Americans. Traveling around the world not watering the bathroom floor.

Now that we had the great sewage stench mystery solved, it was time to freak out about the court situation. Of course, there’s nothing to do but freak out when something is so entirely out of your control, so we tried our best to focus on the kids and to enjoy our time together.

It was somewhere around this point in my day that I realized my little girl was going back to New York without me and I didn’t know how long it would be until I might see her again.

Mia and I went up to the hotel salon for a little girl time. We got a manicure (it was pretty ghetto…about half way through Mia turned to me and said, “Mommy, this is NOT Dashing Diva!) and had a nice walk around the hotel together. But I had a hard time relaxing and enjoying my moments with my girl because I was so worried about the legal nonsense.

It’s not that I think for a moment that our adoption of Mason won’t be completed. I can’t even begin to go there in my head. I am so completely, head-over-heels in love with this little baby that there is simply no way I will allow the fates to take him from me. It’s only that I am now feeling a very strong, almost panic-stricken desire to get myself and my family out of here, and anything that slows down the completion of that process can really hit home for me.

Finally, after about sixty phone calls, several hours and few good poopie diapers (my boy is a champ!), we were told that the name situation had been corrected and Josh would be free to travel home. I wish I could say that I relaxed but I am still at this moment very concerned about how long we will have to stay here.

Later that evening, Mia began to get sentimental about leaving her Mommy and her brother behind. We had a good cuddle on the bed…the three of us, and Mia asked me to get out the video camera. I got some beautiful shots and a great video of my two, gorgeous children getting to know each other while saying goodbye.

I read Mia her good-night story tonight….the last three chapters of the first “The Pain and the Great One” book. Then I turned out the lights and lay there, hugging my girl in the dark. She turned her little face to mine and said, “Mommy, I wish I could just POOF you anywhere. Then I wouldn’t ever have to miss you.”