After 7 years living in America, Anthony finally took his citizenship test today ...and passed. PRAISE BABY JESUS! I never cared if Anthony was American or not, but I am so freaking happy this whole immigration process is behind us. The stress and anxiety it’s caused Anthony has been killing me slowly since 2009 lol You know that feeling you have when you're driving and a cop is right behind you? Ya that's been Anthony's life for the past 7 years. His irrational fear that he might get deported for something like changing lanes without signaling? Its enough to drive a normal person insane. And now it's finally over. He gets sworn in next week...but it's over. He's American. I wanted to share with you the story of how our day went because it was a complete cluster f&^k and very fitting for his newfound American-ness...
His appt is at 10 and the place is like 15 minutes away but Anthony insisted we leave the house by 8:30. So I rush around getting me and Killian ready. Anthony comes in and I'm like, "You're wearing jeans?" Turns out in my sleepy haze last night I told him that was a good idea. As soon as he can see on my face that its not a good idea, he starts freaking out. He's ironing shirts, talking about how we need to stop by the mall to get a new belt, can't find his wedding shoes...I'm thinking...why did you say anything, Kristen? While he ran around the house, spraying cologne and styling his hair like the immigration officer would grant him citizenship because she loved Armani Code...Killian and I took some selfies. I don't do my hair or make up much these days, sooooo whenever I'm looking fairly human I like to rapid fire those selfies.
We all piled into the red beast and set off. We did in fact stop for Anthony to get a new belt...well Anthony went inside as I did circles around the parking lot ...because getting a baby in and out of a vehicle is way too much work for a Tuesday morning. At this point Killian has been up for almost 3 hours, so I tell Anthony to hop in the back seat and keep him awake till we get there. If Killian falls asleep in the car...and you take him out? thats the end of the nap forever.... So we listened to Big Block SingSong on repeat till we arrived...an HOUR EARLY! It was then that Anthony told me he's not allowed to even enter the building more than 30 minutes before his interview. So we walked to a coffee shop about 10 minutes away. Only the line was going super slow and Anthony started freaking out, so we turn right around and head back...no coffee for me...no coffee crumble muffin I had my eye on either. Killian is still awake.
Anthony is a bundle of nerves and I'm just trying to keep him calm. We get to the place and there is a line wrapped around the building. Hooray for government efficiency! All I could think was...CRAP. This is a 30 minute wait at least and Killian has been up for almost 4 hours. He's not digging the stroller, there's nowhere for me to sit and his cries are escalating. That is like the worst feeling ever. When you're the parent with the screaming child. You will physically feel your blood pressure rise. You will do whatever it is you can do, to shut him up so that everyone stops staring. So I put him in the carrier and walked away. All the people talking, the bright sun shining down...I figured he was too stimulated to take nap. Killian starts to drift off just as the security guard tells us there's about to be a fire drill. I walk away from the building hoping Anthony can manage his nerves and the building sirens on his own. There's no avoiding sirens. It's all over, Killian is now super cranky and I have to go in the building since they're calling us in.
I'm just gonna say it....a baby's cry outside...is not nearly as loud as it is inside. Everyone is staring and I just wanna shout, "He's just cranky because it's nap time, so can you guys all just be quiet so I can get him to sleep?" But that's not really a sane thing to say to a group of 200 strangers. There was only one thing left to do...boob pacifier. So with Killian in the carrier, I dangle the cover over my neck and pull as much boob out of my dress than I can physically manage. It was at that moment it magically got quiet ...and all you could hear is Killian gulping and grunting...and pooping. And poor Anthony is off to the side pushing the empty stroller trying to go over his history questions lol
The security line was the most hilarious and frustrating thing I've experienced in a while. For starters there was only one guard...in what can only be compared to an airport security line. Secondly...everyone was foreign...like didn't speak any English foreign. The rules were simple...no food, water, knives, etc. Yet none of these asshats can read or understand the English signs on the wall...so the guard is getting more and more pissed off. An asian girl had shampoo and conditioner in her purse. Why? Then there was the Mexican who had a glass plate in his bag. Why? WHY? Who brings a plate to their citizenship interview? Anthony and I kept making eyes at each other with each random object that would emerge from these people's bags. And with every banned object ...the guard yells to the crowd the rules over again...startling Killian and waking him back up. The guard actually said, "If you speak the language of the person next to you, please tell them what I'm saying!" As funny as it was... have some respect...you wanna join this country, learn the damn language.
I walked through the metal detectors with my boob in my hand. The lady said, "Is he eating?" And I shook my head yes. So she pulls me off to the side to make sure there's a child under there and not an AK47. She pulls back the cover and Killian unlatches, exposing my entire tit to the crowd. At this point...it is what it is. Anthony is behind me having to deconstruct the stroller, take off his belt, his shoes...everything. See in my crazy mind....my perfect plan was that Killian would sleep in his stroller through the whole thing. HA. Instead we're maneuvering this empty beast of a stroller and Killian's just hanging out on my boob. He finally fell asleep while Anthony was redressing himself...which means I'm now stuck with him on me for the next hour or so. #RIPLowerBack
So alas...the waiting room. I insisted on taking photos to document the memory. Here is our nervous faces. Killian is under my cover. lol
Here is us waiting at immigration in 2010...and this morning. I can like...see the six years on my face lol
Anthony got called in...this is me waiting in the corner of the room, bare chested ...praying they don't do another fire drill because my dress will fall off lol
At one point I watched a couple go in for their permanent resident interview…the one we did 6 years ago…and it just hit me like a ton of bricks…the process we’ve endured the past 6 years and they were just beginning it. I could see them hugging each other tightly as if maybe the cameras in the waiting room were scanning to see if their relationship was legitimate. We did the same thing way back when. I started getting nervous...and just then Anthony came out of his interview.
APPROVED! An American Citizen!
All the excitement woke Killian up from his almost 2 hour nap...and look at the awesome hair do it produced! My back is still in pain from carrying him that long. Shoutout to pregnant Kristen...I remember that pain.
So then we headed off to celebrate. We got a little carried away in the car.
Anthony says, "I know Budweiser is a terrible beer but I want to drink the most American beer."
Here's Anthony chillin with Killian, while I try and scarf down a few bites. It was just after this moment we remembered how much of a disaster trying to go out to eat with a baby is.
Then we walked around the mall and Anthony kept picking up every single item that was red, white and blue lol
I'm so proud of my husband and to have been on this journey with him. Not just immigration and all the paperwork, but truly watching him embrace this country and all of its culture. He will always be English at heart. He'll always wake up at 4AM on Saturdays to watch soccer...and I'm certain he'll always think a cold beer is the only cure for the flu....but that's one of the great things about having a country of immigrants. Everyone brings their own something special. But for now... #Merica
ME AND MY BODY:
I think the pregnancy cravings have finally kicked in… 7 months postpartum. I’ve eaten like 5 bags of mango in two days. Each bag says its “4.5 servings”…but it’s like…then why do they put it one bag? I’m 1000% max out on Vitamin C for the rest of the month. I feel shamed in my own home.
Every time my breast gets sore now…or feel lumpy…I think it’s mastitis and freak out. Ahhhh please don’t come back boob sickness, please!
I found the trick to get K to eat vegetables. Perseverance! …oh and mix in some apples. lol Playing mind games with a baby…this is what my life is now.
All I want to know is…is it legal to handcuff a baby’s arms behind their back while you feed them? Asking for a friend who got butternut squash flung all over her face.
Eating is such a mess. He eats the bib, flings his spoon, sneezes food, and sticks his hand in his mouth to touch the food…then touches his face, the dog, the floor. What the heck, baby? Like seriously…should I just feed him in the bath?
He’s sleeping through the night AND he slept in till 7:30 twice! I’d imagine this is how the gentiles felt when Jesus turned all that water into wine. Exactly like a I did when I experienced this miracle of sleeping in. Yep...exactly like that.
All is well EXCEPT…I really need some advice on putting him to sleep. I’m either breastfeeding him or rocking him with music and then doing some kind of Mission Impossible silent ninja walk out of the room. At what point do you say…”Ok its nap time. Night night.” And like…peace out? Feels like I’m spending way too much of my day putting him down for naps or to bed at night. #BoobCuffedForLife
HIGHLIGHT OF THE WEEK:
Obviously what happened today. But in a close second was when Killian mastered the crawl. I know he’s been crawling for a month now, but it’s been more like the worm…like he’s swimming on land. Every week he’s gotten more and more up on his knees…and finally I just said, “Screw it…if he falls he falls”… and put him down and gave him free reign. And he crawled straight across the room. I cried. It’s all happening to fast.
LOW POINT OF THE WEEK:
Poop. Against all laws of physics…poop came out of Kilian’s butt, did a swerve around his diaper and went right onto the floor. Then he proceeded to river dance in the poop. As I fended off all the dogs from getting at it, I began a game of poop whack a mole. I’d grab one foot and wipe it. Then I’d wipe the floor. Just as I’d put the clean foot down, he would re-shit-ify the floor with his other foot. This happened over and over and over. Finally I picked him up and embraced the poop that smeared all over the bouncer as I did. Then the flailing poop feet that smeared on the changing table..the wall…the bathtub…everything. Once he was bathed and cleaned, I had to retrace every poop step and put on a poop load of laundry. So much poo. Sooooo much poo. I’d have to say using my fingernails and a wipey to get in between the slates of the hardwood floors to fish out the packed in poo….that was the low point. #momlife #pooplife
This has actually been a pretty chill week. He's been really happy and easy. I'm just over here waiting for the violence to stop. That's about it. I'd love for a week to go by without being punched or kicked by my infant.
END OF THE WEEK THOUGHTS:
No more flash cards, history questions, the "are you in a real marriage" questions....and no more arguing when he says “Cherokee” instead of “Seminole (GO FSU)” when asked to name one Native American tribe. Gonna miss it. Thanks to everyone that's endured the journey with us.