A long overdue update

OOops. I've pissed off Jen. Yeah baby, come on over here. WITH your triplets. C'mon. I double dog dare ya. We'd have a blast!!! I'm not (very) scared at all.

Sorry for the long hiatus, folks - I'm delighted some of you are still here and reading. Thanks muchly.

The story sort of begun with the call "the bris is on Monday!". After much debate regarding Jr's work/driver's ed scheduling, John and I decided that it would be best if Imri came with me and we flew into Buffalo, then rented a car and drove into the GTA, or greater Toronto area. It sounded like a good plan and I figured I'd rent a car seat from the rental company and be done with it. Imri would travel as a "lap baby".

Yes, you heard right. Jr has a new job and is taking driver's ed. Finally. The lazy "please do everything for me daddy" boy has finally gotten off his tuchas. I believe it is partially because his father had me take him to the recruiting office one hot sunny Friday. And yes, I did it. I told him that he would talk to ALL of the services (all four branches were right there, beside one another) - his father particularly wanted him speaking to the Air Force (who aren't known for their hand-to-hand combat duties) - but he ended up speaking to the Marines alone. John was a Marine and Jr idolizes his dad so ... anyway, after all that it seems like he may join the Marine Reserves. Oy. The only thing holding it up is the citation that Jr got for selling cigs to a minor and while that is being taken care of (he isn't being charged, got off with a warning), the Marines are on hold.

But I digress.

Anyway, Imri and went on our way Friday, flying S0uthwest to Buffalo - the flight itself was great and Imri charmed everyone, including the pediatrician who sat beside us - oddly enough, no one else wanted to sit beside a mom and baby on a full flight. Strange how that is, huh? Oh, I remember those days ...

Trouble began when we arrived in Buffalo and went to get the rental car. Picture, if you will, a mommy and baby duo - baby in his stroller and falling asleep (thank heaven) and mom pushing an enormous suitcase with a duffel bag (filled with toys) on top, in ninety degree heat. Not fun.

Anyway, after waiting in line over 30 minutes to get our car and car seat, I was sent downstairs into the garage for pickup. At which time I was handed a car seat and a metal clip, shown my car and told by the employee that she had no idea how to install a car seat and that "Kevin", who was usually there to install the seats wasn't there today.

I did a double take and asked her politely who the hell was going to install it, then. She told me that Budget wouldn't install them anyway because of liability. I informed her that nowhere on their website did it say that 1)they wouldn't install the seats and 2)that there was a liability issue but she shrugged.

She pointed me to the rather unintelligible diagram on the carseat and left me to my own devices. In the garage of a strange city, with a getting-hungrier-by-the-moment infant, a car seat and clip and 90+ degree weather.

After about 10 minutes and some choice swearing on my part, she came back. She did try to help install it but left out the clip, so I knew it wasn't done right. I thanked her for her minimal effort and called John. He tried to explain to me, as it was a cheaper model of one of our seats but by this point, Imri was not happy and not shy about telling the world of his unhappiness. And discomfort with the heat. So I turned on the AC, and gave Imri my water bottle to play with and turned back to try and figure the damned seat out. Additionally, the straps for the seat itself were very tight and not adjustable at all, so I couldn't make them longer for Imri's chubby girth.

Imri's screaming from the stroller beside me reached record volumes and oddly, the three Budget employees continued to studiously ignore our presence. I took a look at my son and realized that he had somehow managed to open the water valve on the bottle and he was drenched. Moreover, now I had no water which which to make formula. I pulled his completely soaked self out of his stroller into my lap in the semi-cool car, and put him to the breast. Since I've stopped pumping my supply has dropped, but I hoped (and prayed) that I'd have enough to soothe his empty tummy, which I fortunately did. Imri was soon relatively content, albeit damp.

With that done and after 45 minutes of struggle and loud cursing in 90 degree+ weather, primarily directed at Budget and its powers-that-be, as well as talking to my husband long-distance on our cell phones, I finally thought I had figured it out and got the seat in, avec clip. Getting Imri into the skimpy straps was another matter but it eventually happened and we took off. I have phone calls and emails into Budget and will hopefully find time soon to write them a snail mail letter, detailing my displeasure. I will never ever rent from them again. No ifs, ands or buts.

After that drama, the events in Toronto were relatively ...uneventful other than Imri choosing to sprout his second tooth while we were there. My nephew is now on his first step towards becoming Jewish which will culminate with my SIL's conversion and dip in the mikvah. The ceremony was lovely and Imri made his opinions known loudly at the more inopportune moments, which I thought was pretty funny, considering.



In general, Imri is doing well other than this last week when he has been battling Coxsackie virus in its Herpangina incarnation. He battled a fever for four days, and it remained up there, even on alternating doses of Tylenol and Motrin - it is only now starting to break. He has been a trooper for the most part, although clingy and wanting only to nurse. Poor baby - he has blisters at the back of his throat and while I don't have tons of milk anymore, it seems to make him happy enough. He has also been treated to popsicles and the smallest, weeist amount of ice cream ... John stayed home with him Monday and I have been home with him since. He's definitely better but still clingy and wanting mommy. Oy, do my nipples hurt.

His nine month visit came just before the onslaught, where he measured in at 23lbs 5oz and 30 inches long! A bouncing baby boy, most definitely. Imri has also started pulling himself up on all and everything that will allow it


















and has finally started crawling forward, although in very small increments. He is standing well, to the point where he deplores playing with toys that mean he has to sit down. Well, other than books. And he is talking, non-stop. He says something that sound suspiciously like "car" when one goes by although it does sound similar to his word for "cat" and both John and I have heard him say something that sounds like "book" while "reading" one. He really is trying very hard to express himself and it is wonderful! He has also found my belly button, much to his delight.





So there you have it. I really didn't say everything I wanted to say but ... that's all you get for now.

And don't rent from Budget.

Good news, better news and other news

The papers didn't come in time, of course. On Monday afternoon, after I realized the mail had brought nothing but the usual bills, mortgage offers and flyers, I spent 90 minutes on the phone with increasingly "higher up" INS people via their call centre and was told there was absolutely zip they could do for me.

It will also give you great comfort to know that the INS person in, say ... Chicago - can't access the computer system of the person in Baltimore, for example. So while the customer service peon was able to tell me that my petition had been approved, the actual INS officer I spoke with some time later was unable to see that same information. In fact, she was only able to see older info that showed my application still pending. Nice to know that Dept of Homel@nd Security has intra-operability. Shhh. Don't let Al Qaeda know.

I pretty much dissolved into tears when I got off the phone. Fortunately for me, it was time to leave work, so I scrambled out of there before I broke down.

The better news - and the good news - are that my papers did come Wednesday and the document allows me to cross the border multiple times until July of next year! Hopefully by then, I'll have my green card but I'm not holding my breath. It seems that I filed at a popular time, as the sabre-rattling of the various Houses of government regarding immigration, has finally got a lot of procrastinators off their collective asses. Yay.

The other good news - or not, depending on your perspective, is that the bris was postponed. My sister in law is not Jewish and by Jewish law, the baby (Judaism goes by matrilineal lines) is not Jewish until he undergoes conversion. Supposedly the rabbis are meeting on Monday to discuss what needs to be done - obviously my brother wants this done right, so we are all waiting patiently. I am not sure what converting of a newborn entails - some googling revealed a dip in the mikvah after the bris but Mindy may know more.
So we wait.

And I will be able to go, without issue - I am so happy about that! The thought of missing my nephew's bris had me completely broken down, seriously.

Imri still isn't sleeping through the night. Nothing new there. If anything, its gotten worse, probably due to teething. Jr is being a shit. Nothing new there. I'm about done with him. John is being a twat, especially in regards to Jr. That comes and goes and is getting old. Very effing old.

But we did have a nice time at the town fair. Imri seemed to enjoy himself but it was very loud and that seemed to make him very quiet. He is not normally quiet these days - in fact, he has taken to shrieking very loudly, especially when he isn't getting the attention His Highness feels is his due. Oy. But he seemed to like the rides. It turned out to be a nice 5th of July for us all, even if I did have helmet hair.

In which I get angry at the goddamned INS

It all started with my cell phone ringing while I was in the procedure room, caring for a patient. A quick glance showed a Toronto number - my heart always clutches a little when that happens. I figured one of two things; 1)my brother and his wife had their baby or 2)something bad had happened to a parental unit. Fortunately, it was the former option - a baby boy! Wonderful news - I had known in my heart that it was a boy- don't ask me how. Just as I knew that Imri was going to be a boy, I knew. There's no science to it.

And thus began the Immigration SNAFU. For those not in the know, SNAFU stands for "situation normal - all fucked up". I believe it has military origins - wouldn't surprise me one iota.

So ... upon the realization that a baby boy had been born to my brother in a different country than the one in which I currently reside, I pulled out my immigration papers. Amongst them was the receipt for something called an I-131 or Application for Travel Document or "advance parole". Basically, it's a document which would allow me to travel to Canada for a special occasion without forfeiting my status (which is currently "shut the fuck up and wait" it seems). Forfeiting my status would basically invalidate all the paperwork John and I had filed, including fees. That would be bad. Very very bad. The fee for this document alone was a crazy $170.

So ...I called the 1-800 number listed on the form and pressed the various options, finally hearing that there was no new information for my case and the anticipated wait time for the document would be approximately 30-60 days. My calendar said June 28th. I filed on April 24th. 60 days had come and gone.

So ... I pushed a bunch of other buttons and finally spoke with a customer service "specialist". I explained the situation to her and she told me I had two options; 1) go to a specific website and make an appointment with an Immigration counselor in Baltimore to discuss my situation or 2)if no appointment was available before I needed to leave, I should just meander on over to the INS in Baltimore and throw myself on their mercy, hoping they could see me. Yeah.

I was in luck. They had an appointment for 11 am. It was 9:08. I looked at Imri and made an executive decision to get going. I grabbed all the necessary (to me) paperwork, Imri's brand new Jeep Liberty Urban Terrain stroller, a diaper bag and boogied.





We arrived in Baltimore with about 20 minutes to spare, a testament to my superior speeding driving skills and the lack of cops on the Interstate. I signed in and waited. My number was called and I went to speak with the INS official.

Now I worked in Baltimore at Ginormous Famous Hospital. Baltimorean attitude (and big hair)is not new to me, especially amongst those who figure a little power goes a long way (see: medical clerks and ICU cleaning people. See also: INS "specialists", and weird hair-dos). Yeah, Charm City - my tuchas.
Anyway, I explained my story to her, including the filing of the previous I-131 and why I hadn't received it yet and her response was "Oh ma'am, the 30-60 days is just a guideline. It can take up to 6 months". I did a backstep. Whoa. OK, I kept going
and told her what the customer service person had advised me to do. She was indifferent: "Is this a life or death emergency??" I maintained how it was perhaps a life emergency to me and my family, yes. Where was my proof, she demanded.
I was puzzled. Proof? I queried. Yes, she said haughtily with a raised brow. "How do I know that there was an actual baby born?? Where is your proof??".

Boys and girls, I was dumbfounded. Yes, loquacious me was left pretty much speechless. After all, I'm not asking to travel to Uzbekistan. "Ummm the baby was born yesterday. In Canada. I don't really have any proof". The INS flunky nods and continues argumentatively back and forth with me. She teases me with "well, I could query the status of your I-131...". I look at her gratefully till she continues with "..but that would cost you another $170". I looked at her astonished. And promptly burst into tears.

Now if I had been thinking (which I wasn't, I was going on straight emotional stressed-out, over-tired momma hormones), I probably would have thought to myself "self, don't give this power-greedy bitch the satisfaction of knowing she made you cry". I'm fortunate that my emotional side spoke up because once I started crying, my beloved Imri who till that point had been sunshine and light, started crying too.

Which touched something inside the INS bitch's cold heart and she said "let me talk to my supervisor". I gulped and blubbered a thank you and held Imri close. She returned after a few ... "My supervisor says we will ok it IF you file another petition". I nod slowly as she continues "but we will need another 2 pictures AND another fee of $170". My face must have showed my dismay because she shook her head and said "that's all I can do".

What would you have done? Emotional blackmail of the highest order - my nephew's bris and seeing the family is going to cost me an arm and a leg - money that has ALREADY BEEN PAID and should be refunded (they don't refund fees, oh no. Never. Period.)This document which would allow me to cross the border legally and without penalty is now going to cost me $340. Not to mention money lost from days of work lost. And we are beyond broke.

But it's family. And family is everything. So I did it. Imri and I went to the Ritz camera and I got pictures done. Then the ATM, then to the Rite Aid for a money order. Fill out the petition again. Go back to Big Hair and submit it all. "Have a seat" she says.

And I wait. And wait. And wait. I am finally called up by a woman whom I assume is the supervisor who tells me that the document will go out in the mail that evening. I am blown away again ..."so I won't get it now?". "No ma'am, it will be mailed out. It should arrive in 3-5 days".

That was Thursday. It's now Sunday and nothing. There is no mail Tuesday the 4th. The bris is supposedly Wednesday although it may be delayed because the baby had an infection at birth and because I beseeched my brother to push it back because I really really really can't afford to miss two days of work.

With my luck, I will be out $340 and I still won't be able to go to my nephew's bris.

Can I tell you how much this fucking SUCKS???? How angry I am at the rudeness and callousness of the INS and this money-grabbing scheme of theirs? How wrong this is? How angry it makes me to think that at this very moment there are probably several hundred illegals making their way into this country with little or no hindrance, but I, who had dotted my i's and crossed my t's has to pay through the nose??

The only saving grace of the day was my sweet and beautiful boy, who other than the one crying incident in front of Big Hair, was a complete angel. In fact, a gentleman who had been sitting there waiting together with me and other anxious petitioners, came up to me and said "Ma'am, you have the happiest baby I have ever seen. He's wonderful!". Yes, Imri charmed the INS waiting room. That'll teach em in Charm City.
Oh, and that's while he's teething, too. Yes, boys and girls - we have our first tooth!



And so we wait. Wish me luck that it comes tomorrow. I know it won't, I know it in my heart - but wish me luck anyways.