Month: July 2016

The longest short move . . .

It’s a good thing this flight is only an hour long because I don’t know how much stress management I have left in me. In my head, when we land, I’m done, off the clock, finished. That might be a foolish assumption and I’ll be sure to update if it turns out to be a fallacy, but I have been prepping for this move for months and when we hit the ground in Abu Dhabi, we will have moved. It will be behind me. My work completed. 
The money I begrudged the pet importer is looking like the best $$ I ever spent. We picked up the animals from the kennel in the morning and dropped them at the cargo terminal at the airport. They were not happy. 

It’s going to be a really  l o n g  day for them. 
Thankfully I don’t have to see them again until the importer delivers them to our house sometime later in the evening. 

They were not enjoying their ride on the forklift. I’m not sure if they’ll ever fully recover. 

Then it was back to the hotel to pick up the kids and all of our luggage. I didn’t ever publish the post about our excess baggage fiasco and trying to mail items to ourselves and the headache involved in stuff management this past week, but I was proud to say that I got it down to 6 suitcases that weighed 55-60 lbs each, 6 carry-on pieces, including a guitar and ukulele, and backpacks for all. A friend who agreed to help haul us to the airport walked in and all he could say was, “Wow.” 

We made it out — expired visas and all! (we knew they were past date, but the word on the street was as long as we were within 30 days, it would be fine. Glad that turned out to be true, with only a little extra paperwork). 
We checked with the flight attendant to make sure that the animals had made it on board and she said, “Oh yes, I can hear them barking down below!” Oh great. Not only was he barking, but barking enough for 2! 

Coming in over Abu Dhabi — not the best first impression, but for the last 2 weeks Bahrain has been covered in a sandy humid haze as well so it didn’t look that pretty from the air either. 

Stop watching your screens and look at your new home! 

Wow, it’s really brown. It almost makes Bahrain look tropical . . .

Ah, we made it!
I was right. The work was done. Everything after landing went flawlessly. No line at passport control, our luggage was waiting on the carousel, and we all piled into two cars and headed to our new home. At this duty station we were assigned housing, hallelujah. All we had to do was show up with our bags. A friend had even bought groceries and stocked the refrigerator for us. 

I haven’t constructed any thoughts about our new house, neighborhood, or life in a different country yet. I’ve been too occupied with unpacking all those suitcases, figuring out where each kid is going to sleep and put their clothes, and running the washing machine (which takes 3 hours for each wash cycle!) non-stop. It’s not hard or stressful, just busywork. Which turns out to be a nice change from the stresses of the unknown of the previous weeks. 

We did get to run out to the shopping center behind our house to grab cat litter, pet food, and a few more groceries. Did I mention how thankful I was to have hired the pet importer? While we were getting settled at home, picking up food, and getting SIM cards for our cell phones, the pet importer supervised the process of getting the pets inspected and authorized to enter the country. We landed at 6:30 and the pets didn’t make it to us until after 11:30. If we had been stuck at the airport until almost midnight, waiting on the vet’s approval, this blog post would be a hand-scribbled note on a napkin: “make it stop!” 

But the pets are here and getting used to our new home and yard

making themselves comfortable

We’re all trying to settle in. 

This is the end . . . (and a Budapest day)

I don’t think there is anything else for me to do. The move is finished except for the actual travel to Abu Dhabi tomorrow. Every detail has been hashed out and if we forgot anything, it’s too late now. I have an afternoon ahead of me with no suitcases to pack (I got them zipped and NO ONE BETTER TRY TO TAKE ANYTHING OUT), no errands to run, and no car to go anywhere. I’m going to sit and do nothing. Absolute bliss after our schedule the past 2 weeks.

So I should probably write a bit and then I can marathon Gilmore Girls without feeling completely unproductive. I’ve been wanting to write this post about our trip to Budapest’s Zoo Cafe before we leave for AD, but have been too brain dead to do it until now. 
When I was researching things to do in Budapest, a friend said a must see place was the Zoo Cafe. She warned me that it’s weird, but that the kids would love it and that would make it worth it. When looking at a map I found that the Zoo Cafe was only about 3 blocks from our apartment so on Thursday morning we set out to have a mid-morning coffee and see some animals. 
That was the plan. Camille is pretty stubborn at times and decided that she didn’t want to wear a pair of purple corduroy pants that I had packed for her because they were boy pants. I don’t know where she got the idea that they were boy pants, or why that would even be a problem for her, but she had a bug up her butt that morning and refused to wear them. 99.5% of the time I give her free reign of her clothing choices, but for reasons I can’t remember now, those pants were not negotiable that morning. 
It could have been that her other ones were in the wash, or maybe I had a bug up my butt, but we ended up in a face-off over those pants. Somehow, eventually we got them on (I’m pretty sure it involved both Josh and I putting one leg in each side). So as she’s crying on the floor (in her boy pants) I have this thought, and she evidently had the same thought, because I said, “You better not angry pee!” And she yelled, “I already did!” 
She thought if she peed in her pants then she wouldn’t have to wear them. Well, we proved her wrong. 
Oh, vacations are so much fun! 
Yes, we made her wear the angry pee pants. Josh and I quick conferenced and decided she was wearing the pants until she got over wearing the pants and because her daddy is nice, he packed something for her to change into. As we were walking she sniffled, “I’m cold and wet, but it’s my fault because I angry peed.” (She rages, but snaps out of it really quickly.)
In the end it didn’t matter that she was wearing pee soaked pants because the cafe smelled like everyone peed their pants. Cats roaming everywhere, birds and other reptiles on display, and even a small alligator in an aquarium. I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that the Zoo Cafe smells like a zoo. 

We had coffee and hot chocolates, but when lizards and baby hedgehogs run and poop all over your table, it kind of takes away the appetite. At least there was hand sanitizer everywhere! We kept giggling how the restaurant health inspectors in the US would flip if they saw this place. 

Cats lounging and shedding where people eat

The hedgehog was adorable, but he left droppings with every step . . . 

and he was in danger of walking off the edge of the table. 

Everyone else was scared of the snake and refused to hold it until mama showed them it was safe. 

The cat making friends with the snake?

Caleb got the cockatoo to spread his wings and flap along with him. They had us rolling. 

The cat teasing the alligator — quite bold. 

In spite of the rough start, we had a great morning. Yes, it was crazy and yes, we loved it. 

And yes, Budapest in winter is cold! 

Let’s pretend this never happened

4 days. That’s all we have left. I have a ton of ridiculous moving stories, but no sense of humor left to tell them. This about sums up our week:

Tears:
Caleb’s birthday. Yes, he’s crying because I spent all day taking care of pet paperwork and other moving administrative necessities. I warned him that there was no way around it and we would celebrate for real later, but . . . Camille keeps crying that she misses Josie. I feel like crying because I’m living in the midst of too much stuff and my brain feels as cluttered as our hotel room. Josh brought home our medical records which is another 15lbs to add to our already overweight luggage allowance.

Discomfort: 
Carter’s lip swelled up and started taking over his face. I’m on edge that the kids are too loud in the hotel and living like swine. Towels everywhere, bedding tossed on the floor, electronic cables everywhere. I came home from an exasperating appointment and in my short temperedness shrieked that I could hear them down the hallway and that they needed to clean up their mess. I retreated to my own sanctuary of crap and I hear Caleb start singing “It’s a Hard Knock Life . . .” I guess I deserved that (and yes, I laughed. Just call me Miss Hannigan).

Sweat:
Oh, it’s one big slimy, drippy mess here. Back sweat, boob sweat, dripping down my chin sweat . . . just stepping outside I can feel each individual water molecule clinging to my skin. Walking and breathing is a workout all its own as we suck in the heavy air and push our way through the haze. 
To sum up, every little thing has taken twice as long and been more complicated than expected. Nothing is going smoothly. It’s all getting done, but taking extra effort and persistence that I’m running out of. For example, today I had to go book the flight for the dog and the cat. We brought them out to the airline cargo terminal about 10 days ago to weigh and measure them and their crates. Today all I was supposed to do was bring paperwork (each piece with it’s own separate tale of woe), have the cargo guy create the airbill, and pay. 
I hand over the paperwork and tell him I’m here for the final booking and he says, “We need to have the pets to measure.” I tell him we did that days ago. He doesn’t remember. “Are you sure you came here? I’m here every day. I don’t think so. There are lots of offices. Maybe you are confused.” 
Yes I did. There isn’t any way I could have found my way back to that tiny office on the back lot of the cargo terminal if I hadn’t been there before. He said, “You can bring them Saturday.” UM NO. I did this once already, before we shipped our car so we would have room for the giant dog crate. I no longer have room for the dog crate in my car. I describe how they brought the scale outside, how I brought the dog around on his leash, how we put the crate on the scale, how I put the dog in the crate and his guy measured . . . 
Blank stare. “I don’t think so. We have to measure.” “Yes, and your guy with the tape measure gave you the numbers for the length, height and width for both animals.” Totally annoyed, I’m hitting redial on Josh’s phone number over and over, hoping he can help jog his memory, but of course he is nowhere that he gets a signal. 
The guy is puzzled, not sure what to do. So we sit there, at an impasse. I tell him that he did all the calculations and the fee is to be 145 BD for both pets. Still a blank look. “I don’t remember you.” He then starts to look through his desk and piles of paper on the floor and eventually finds a scrap of printer paper with some numbers scribbled on it: “Oh yes, July 24th? I found it. Now I remember.” And that is how this entire move has gone — something easy aways goes sideways. 
After all that, when I hand him my card to pay, he says, “Cash only.” Of course it’s cash only. I guess it would have been too hard to mention that the last time we were there. Or not there. Cause everyone walks around with $400 of cash on hand. So I have to go back. Again. I hope he remembers me next time. (Or I’ll make sure he never forgets me!)

round and round we go

I’m sitting in the hospital, on a bed, waiting for Carter’s surgery to start. Yes, I said surgery. The saga continues. I guess I should be thankful that I’m only stressed about logistics and not his medical condition.

After Eid was over the hospital finally called us back and I talked to a doctor and a nurse who both said, “yes, we looked at the MRI, we can remove the cyst and just call us back when you decide if you want to proceed or not.” I’m not sure how I can be more clear: let’s get this taken care of ASAP because I have a move that I’m in the middle of and this must be done before we leave the country or I’ll have to start all over again with new referrals, paperwork and headaches.

When they finally understood that I wanted to schedule the surgery, the nurse said first he had to come in for a consult with the anesthesiologist. Wait, what? I thought this was going to be a few shots of a local and a quick removal. I guess that’s not how things are done here. So I made a separate appointment to meet with the anesthesiologist, who stood us up because of an emergency, but we were able to get Carter’s bloodwork taken care of at the lab (3 vials taken for who knows what) so the visit wasn’t a total waste. Then we went back to the hospital two days later only to tell the doc that he has no allergies and no health problems and to be quizzed on his medical history.

He didn’t mind multiple trips to the hospital because it was good for his PokemonGo game.

It was at that appointment that the doc told me that Carter would be admitted to the hospital and needed to fast from both food and water because he would be given sedation that she called “sleepy medicine” and in my head I’m thinking, “This is insane. All this for a simple cyst that I swear is getting smaller by the day.” Because of course as soon as I got partway through this process it started shrinking. Or flattening. Or doing something that made it almost invisible (though it could still be felt  a bit under the skin). But I had to keep plowing ahead because the law of nature would have turned it into a golf ball sized tumor the moment we got on the plane to depart for Abu Dhabi if I didn’t get it taken care off.

So this morning we came to the hospital at the crack of 7:45 and completed the admission paperwork. They brought him up to his room and asked him to put on a gown, checked for a good vein for an IV and then as soon as he was ready they came in and asked him to put his clothes back on because they were going to move us downstairs because the doctor wanted him in a room where he could be admitted overnight if necessary. I have to stop being surprised by how thorough they are being. And I laughed when they showed us into the room that Calvin and I spent 3 days in back in May. Welcome home. We better not be here that long.

Carter regowned and we headed down to the operating room. I signed paperwork, the plastic surgeon came in and told me for the 3rd time how much easier this would be if he were going to remove it from the outside, but going from the inside complicates things — which is why I told him multiple times to do it from the outside because we don’t care if he has a little scar. But whatever. I had mentioned to the anesthesiologist that I would prefer that he not be sedated if he didn’t need it (because I think it makes for an easier recovery) and the surgeon did prefer that option as well. Thank God for that. So they rolled him away and I went check 3 more items off my moving list. No time to sit and wait.

90 minutes later I was back at the hospital and they had just brought him back to the room. He said it went well, he didn’t need the extra sedation and he was just annoyed that he had to wait another 2 hours to eat or drink. A bit of a puffy upper lip and a hep-lock are the only signs that anything was ever done.

Now to wait for food and release. Hopping those both happen this afternoon. Only one more appointment for a post-op check at the end of the week and I can put this Cyst Saga behind me. Inshallah.

moving marathon

I thought that I would have plenty of time over the past few days to write. Usually packing days are long and drawn out and don’t require much of me other than being there, but in this case it was like supervising a group of kindergarteners. The company arrived right on time with a crew of 8 and blew through my house like a tornado. Which would have been fine if they knew what they were doing, but I think half of them were first timers. And only 2 of them spoke any English. Which could have been fine, except when I’m trying to explain that the bulb of my Turkish lamp doesn’t need to be detached from the wiring . . . then it’s a problem. Thankfully I caught them before they did too much damage to it and Josh was able to fix it after spending an hour with pliers and a patient hand. Those were the kind of intervening actions I had to take all day. The first item they packed in my kitchen: A glass vase that I store cooking utensils in — I come in to find them wrapping paper around the vase with the items still standing up in the vase. When I had to show them how to take the items out and wrap them in a different sheet of paper than the glass, I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Every item that was packed was wrapped thoroughly — loads of paper and bubble wrap, but they’d go through a closet and pack almost everything. Or pack a shelf and leave one book behind. I ended up following them around all day, tucking stray items into boxes or collecting the “spare parts” and putting them with the current job, hoping that the second time through they’d make the cut. It felt a bit like checking on my kids after they’ve “cleaned the kitchen” and thinking, did you not see this glass on the counter? Or the pot that’s still in the sink? How do you consider this job finished? 


So yeah, I’m tired and the job still isn’t done. They showed up saying they could do it in 2 days, but they spent 12 hours there yesterday and they’re on hour 12 today and still not finished so I’m annoyed. They should have just done it in 3 like they originally planned. I finally escaped and am at the hotel, Camille asleep next to me, while Calvin holds down the fort at the house because Josh had to go to the airport to pick up his replacement. Calvin is entertaining himself by posting progress updates to FB. Poor kid.

Back when I thought they might be done before dark. 
I say it every time: We have too much stuff

The end of the train. Calvin is patiently waiting for the truck to return so they can finally load the last of it. They load a few crates, take them away, wait forever (over an hour) for the truck to come back, load the next set of crates . . . repeat all day long and into the night. 

It’s been a long day for all of us. Camille was at play practice in the morning (an event for the kids on base this week that ends with their performance tomorrow night), while Josh and I went to a friend’s Change of Command ceremony. Once again, Calvin was the hero and watched over the moving process while we checked items off our list of things to do. Ceremony, paperwork, bank, more paperwork . . . 

We’ve downsized to this mess: clothes, guitars, books, toiletries and school supplies (since I don’t expect to get our shipment before the kids start classes in August). I’m not happy with the amount, but it’s either bring it with us or buy duplicates when we arrive in Abu Dhabi. Might as well save my dirham for something I really need. 

Camille was crying about it being her last day with Josie so they took one last trip to the cold store to buy treats. 

They came home with marshmallows

to eat while while coloring together (more essential items that have to fit in our limited suitcase space along with her stuffed animals). 

It’s going to be an adventure on the other end when I open these boxes. Who knows what’s in there?
I do know what’s in here — yep, big size is the best size. 

Yes, I know baby. You don’t want to go. I forget she has lived her her entire life (as much as she remembers of it). This has been really hard for her. 

#goodbyeselfie

Along with the Change of Command ceremony today, we were invited to celebrate the occasion with dinner at the hotel where we were checking in that night. I’m so thankful that it worked out that way because I was so tired, but we got to sit and relax and eat amazing food all while the loading the truck was still happening at our house (at that point I didn’t care what happened to the rest of my stuff. I’d already seen my carpets loaded into earlier crates). 
Camille was falling asleep in my lap during dinner so I brought her upstairs to get ready for bed. She was starting to feel sad and teary again when room service knocked on the door and brought in dessert. Camille hadn’t wanted to miss it (of course, my little sugar queen) so my friend had desert from dinner sent up to our room. She forgot her tears and feasted on green tea creme brûlée, coconut mint tapioca pudding, and sweet spring rolls. A perfect end to our day. Now if only Josh and Calvin could call an end to their day . . . hurry up and load that truck already!!