We took the last flight out on Friday night. Everything went smoothly from the goodbyes (boys were so excited to be with their old babysitter) to the non-existent Friday night traffic heading east towards the city/airport (seriously!), to the on-time flight, to the in-flight drink service to the bags and our driver showing up at bag claim precisely when we did. We checked into our hotel, went to our room, dropped off our bags, spiffied up and headed out. At 10:30pm! Party on Wayne.
We had a late night dinner at Hubert Keller's burger bar. Fancy in that there are all sorts of exotic meats and fixins to choose from but not fancy in that there were plenty of boobs, bellies, fupas and floating pupils on display. It was Vegas after all. Leave your class at home folks. Like a total douche I ordered a glass of wine when we sat down. Wait, burger. Bar. Stupid move. I don't drink beer because it tastes terrible. Like abc'd saltine crackers mixed with tonic water. So, I regained some semblance of being able to hang with the drunk and trashy and ordered. Wait for it. A hard cider. Hard core! They're actually really tasty. And light. And totally girly. Burgers were great! We ordered a triple of the sides... skinny fries, onion rings and the most decadent croquettes to ever melt in my mouth. Mac n Cheese croquettes to be exact. Oh. My. God. Becky. They landed on my butt! But worth every krafty, cheesy bite. Get 'em if you're ever there. Skip the fries, skip the onion rings, and if you're feeling really frisky, skip the cider. Go all in on the croquettes!
After dinner we hit the casino. After about a dozen laps around the tables to find just the perfect table, Parker finally settled on one. I'm not into gambling. My main issue is that you can lose so much money, so fast! I spent too much of my life being poor to watch the cash basically lit on fire in seconds flat. The other thing that skeeves me out is having to sit right next to people who are one of a handful of things that I won't mention because it would come off as rude and intolerant. Bottom line - I don't want to sit so closely to a stranger that I can smell or feel anything that has gone into, or is seeping out of, their body. Blech!
Obviously I didn't sit down at the blackjack table with Parker. He hands me some cash off of his roll of bills (he doesn't normally "roll" like that but it's Vegas...) and I saunter over to one of those wheel of fortune slot machines. I love those things. I don't even care about winning. I just can't wait to hear the crowd (in the machine) yell "Wheel! Of! Fortune!" Then you hear the fake wheel start turning just like on the show, press the button and see where you land. I got up a hundred bucks, down 25, up 50, down 100, up 15, and went on and on like this for about 45 minutes till I was back to zero. I had a lucky round though. I think I got to spin 6-7 times. One of which was a triple spin! I should have just stopped after that one but I didn't and ended up blowing it all. I walked back over to the smelly table of strangers and put my hand out like a jobless teen and Parker peeled off another bill for me. Thankfully nobody swiped my machine. Well, of course not, it's not like it was lucky. It was just stupid fun. That round lasted, oh, about 20 minutes. Done. I couldn't waste more money. The satisfaction of the spin just couldn't offset the thoughts of all the things I could have bought and possessed for all that cash. It was 1am and Parker had already lost a bit of dough as well. So we walked away from the casino. For a hot minute. To use the restrooms. Then he said he thought we should get a drink before heading to our room. So we did! We went to what we affectionately referred to all weekend as "da club." It's actually called something like the Sound Lounge and it's a sort of club right in the middle of Mandalay Bay. But there's no cover and all the young hoochies are at the real clubs so it's more our speed. We had a cocktail. Yawned and sipped through it then hit the hay.
We met up with our dear friends on Saturday. We went to Border Grill, Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger's mexican restaurant. Yes, I'm a celebrity chef stalker. On that note, I almost ran over Hubert Keller in the city last year. And I actually had to think about it. (The fact that I actually had to think about whether or not to run into/over Hubert Keller is a little crazy, I admit.) He was jaywalking in the financial district and I spotted him.. thought about it.. it would mean I could be face to face with him in seconds and rather than sue him I could wrangle him into fleur de lys reservations for life!.. but alas I didn't want to kill the badass so I slammed on my breaks, nearly deploying my airbags. Back to Vegas. Our friends met us at Border Grill. We got there first and sat down. The restaurant was empty. But within minutes it started to fill up and I started to panic knowing our friends would have their two kids and kiddos need room and we were smack in the middle of the restaurant. They showed up and in their flamboyant way, pushed their way through the maze of people, tables and chairs with their stroller, car seat with baby on top of the stroller and their 2 1/2 year old riding on top cowgirl style saying "hey guys! how do you like our version of the double stroller." I love them. So much. They're like the honey badger. They don't give a s&*t! And it makes me love them even more. Thankfully the host saw our predicament and moved us to a table against the wall in the back, near a secret exit. Which was really handy when the sweetest, quietest little baby girl I've ever met had a near blowout (all you parents and Tommy probably know what that is) and they had to make a run for the bathroom changing table. We had a delish meal. I came for the guac and stayed for the huevos. Even though my genetic testing tells me otherwise, I'm still convinced of my inner Latina. So many laughs over lunch. The longest and loudest of which was when our friends recounted a story about a recent trip to Whole Foods (she's a recovering vegan, vegetarian, hippie who I hope someday goes back on the deodorant) in which their 2 1/2 year old nearly took a spill taking a corner too fast with her "shopper in training" cart causing her to yell out "Oh S#$T!" And as they're telling us this, little miss cutie pie herself who is sitting on my lap, turns to me and says "The nice thing to say would have been HOLY COW!" Hilarious.
After lunch we took the girls over to the Shark Reef aquarium. That's when the guilt set in. Who in their right mind goes to Vegas then does kid crap? Gluttons. In more ways than one. We hadn't been there since taking our older son when he was a baby. That was a bad idea too but Parker's dad had just died and we were trying desperately to reconnect with the word fun. A quest that took years. We did have a lot of fun at the aquarium. Being constantly goaded by pint-sized Oh S#$t with "come on!" "come on you guys!" It's actually a pretty sweet aquarium. Unlike the Monterey Bay aquarium, I don't think this one is in the business of helping and protecting sea life but instead probably paid big bucks for all the cool stuff they have. And we enjoyed it. Gluttons. After the aquarium it was time for Oh S#$t and blowout to take their naps so they left to head back home. Parker and I went back to our room to drop off the giant plush sharks we bought for the boys. I wanted to take a shower and spend some time actually doing my hair and putting on makeup. Parker's plan was to hit the tables. HA! I came out of the bathroom and found that he had fallen asleep while reading. We can't get crazy if we try. Well, till the sun sets at least and we make a last ditch effort. 
We were meeting back up with our friends for dinner at Stripsteak. Michael Mina's first venture into a steakhouse. On the walk through Mandalay Bay (our hotel was in the same building/property) Parker saw his dream girl walk by. You know how every guy has his fantasy dirty girl. Maybe she's got huge cans, tattoos, her butt crack shows out the top of her jeans or her cheeks peek out from the bottom of her skirt. Maybe she smokes or takes shots of whiskey. Or maybe she's all of that wrapped into one hot mess of a trashy package? Well, my husband could care less about all of that. Not that he'd kick her out of bed. But, ah hem, his dream girl walked by in a plaid, belly bearing shirt, tight jeans and a cowboy hat made out of a coors light half rack box. For real! rectangular boxy cowboy hat! That set the mood for our night. We got to the restaurant before our friends arrived and were seated right away. We ordered drinks and started reviewing the menu. Our friends walked in a few minutes later with party cups in hand. Only in Vegas can you walk into a Michelin Star restaurant with a party cup of sprite and vodka. See, they don't give a s$%t! And I love it. Every time we get together I love them more. They are free thinkers and free doers! We had a really enjoyable dinner. Lobster fritters and salads to begin. The boys had steak and us girls had fish. I'm not sure if the boys even tried the sides. They may have even grunted and swatted off each other when devouring their steaks! Good meat brings out the caveman in every guy. My girlfriend and I shared a decadent dessert and the cowboy asked for some to go cups of ice. And they obliged. Only in Vegas. After dinner aperitifs mixed right at our table from the contents of a black plastic liquor store bag!
Now we get down to business and finally head to the concert. That's why we're there after all. To see Scotty McReery, The Band Perry and Brad Paisley. The only problem is that we had so much fun at dinner that we missed the first act, and the second act. Such a bummer! I didn't give a rat's ass about Scotty but I really, really, really wanted to see The Band Perry. Oh well, like Parker said, don't be sad, let's just have fun with what's left. Which was a lot! We found our way to our seats and got all pumped up for the show to start. I think it was about mid-way through the first song when a short, squat troll tapped my friend on the shoulder and growled "these are MY SEATS!" we all started looking around, confused because we thought they were our seats. I pulled the tickets out of my back pocket and showed them to the troll. She said ok.. then a few minutes later, informed us that we were one section off. Whatever trolly two shoes, honest mistake. So we hightailed it to the right seats and sat right down. It was a little strange that so many people were sitting down, including us. But as I scanned the crowd I realized why. There were lots of old people. And people who may have had a hard time standing upright for long. And others who probably couldn't have stood up if they tried. And the row behind us was full of racked out little kids. Weird, I know. I think it was the mommy guilt goddesses trying to ruin my buzz! We sat for a while but finally had to stand and dance a little during "Alcohol" and then the old bitty next to my friend taps her on the shoulder and motions for her to sit down. We all did. But then about 3/4 way through the concert more people started standing and it was contagious. You can't just sit there, tapping your toes at a Brad Paisley concert. The next time bitty made a move, my friend put her politely in her place and we happily danced and sang all the way through the encore. Thankfully Kimberly Perry came out and sang with Brad as did Carrie Underwood. The cowboy tried to ruin it by saying it was only a hologram but I'm convinced it was her! In all her beautiful, supple, blond, white teethed, angel voiced amazingness.After the concert we found our way to another lounge in the casino area. A really entertaining cover band was playing all kinds of songs from the 80s and 90s that drunk 30 somethings love to sing along to. We danced and then a Kid Rock impersonator joined the band on the stage. People were going nuts taking video and pictures. Then he said he was a local entertainer, etc. Now our friends are totally convinced it WAS him. Wait, total impostor = real and the real thing = hologram? No way! We left that bar and found our way back to da club. We danced a few songs then sadly our friends had to get home to relieve the babysitter. They already got an extra hour out of her so they didn't want to push it. We were sad to say goodbye, especially since they may be moving far, far away. To a country called South Dakota. I'm not even sure where it is but I've heard it's a strange, cold land. We really hope they don't move but it sounds imminent. After the long goodbye we walked over to THE hotel and took the elevator up to Mix nightclub. The view from up there was pretty sweet and it was more fun then the last time we were there and I just sat there, sipping my Roy Rogers! We made it back to our room by 2. Almost sober and ready for a snack. Thank goodness for the trusty pringles that find their way into every hotel minibar! We slept till 9am. 7 straight hours. Then got up, grabbed coffee and headed to the airport. We were shocked at how quickly we got checked in and through security. We were sitting down by 11am. An hour and 45 minutes before our flight was to depart. Then about 45 minutes later, the dreaded announcement.. that our plane was being inspected for mechanical malfunction. Then about an hour later they announced that it was being taken out of service and they were trying to find a new plane for our flight to use. . If you've been to Vegas for a weekend, you know how ridiculously packed the airport is with folks trying to make it back home to kids, work, sobriety, rehab. We ran to another empty gate to see if we could get help getting on another flight. Nada. There was nothing available that wasn't already oversold and with a long standby list. But wait "there's a flight at 1:40 that only has a couple of people on standby. I'll put you guys on there." Well, we got over to that gate and saw the flight was at 2:30, which wasn't that big of a deal. But as we realized that when we approached that flight's gate my husband barked out tourettes style, in front of the customer service desk and a couple hundred people, while looking right at me "GODDAMNITMOTHERFUCKERPIECEOFSHITSONOFABITCH" Just like that. One big run-on of a curse word epithet. And if you didn't know any better, you'd think it was directed at me. All of this from my normally mild-mannered, slow moving, low key of a husband. Nothing riles the guy. Nothing, apparently, but getting screwed over at the airport on your way home from Vegas. I don't think we talked for at least an hour. Not because I was mad at him. I knew he wasn't talking to me. But I also knew there was a storm brewing and I didn't want to set it off. I just wanted to let it pass peacefully. We didn't make it on the 1:40 flight that was at 2:30. So we were stuck waiting for our original flight that was delayed till 3:30. After not getting on the 2:30 flight we decided to grab some lunch. Parker started to cheer up knowing we would be getting home at some point that day. When I realized the coast was clear I laughed and said I couldn't believe he just yelled out profanity like that RIGHT in the MIDDLE of the AIRPORT. He chuckled and asked if it was really that bad. Um, yeah, that bad. He apologized. I didn't care. By then it was more fun thinking of how all of those people thought he was a nutcase.
We made it home by about 7pm. Which totally sucked. All we wanted that morning when we woke up was to get home and see our kids. That may be lame but so be it. On our drive home Parker said "Okay, let's never go anywhere on a plane again without the kids." Agreed. Did it. Don't need to do it again.
By mid-day Monday I was full swing into mommy mode. I had scrambled eggs, packed snacks and backpacks, washed dishes, dried dishes, grocery shopped and skipped my shower. Just like any other Monday. Far, far away from a Vegas Saturday night.
We didn't do much in the way of adoption stuff last week so this week I got organized and got back in touch with the assistant stork. I set-up our FedEx account number for her to use so she can get documents to and from states and embassies with ease. I also sent in our fee and other information she required. Some of the documents she needs have to be sent to her from our agency so I shot them a note asking them to FedEx them straight to her with our fancy shmancy very own FedEx account number. I also sent our social worker another note to check in. It had been a week since I last pinged her. I didn't hear right back from her.
By Tuesday night I was feeling pretty good. I was ready for the meeting I was going to on Wednesday night and I had made some progress with adoption stuff. At a snail's pace we were once again making forward progress. Then it happened. I checked my email and it was there. Not just a reply from our social worker but the homestudy itself. The draft version, ready for us to read and proofread. YeahhoohallelujahHOLYCOW! And it's better than we expected. Just a couple of minor errors such as stating that Parker is 5' 7" I don't know why I think that's funny, but I do. If she had made an error on my height, no big deal. I'm short. I'm 5' 3" - but to say a guy is 5' 7" when he is actually 5' 11" is somehow emasculating. Not to mention it would throw him over China's BMI limit so we have to make sure it's corrected. So that's one of the only factual errors. A few things she wrote aren't really our words, even though they're in quotations as if they were, but they don't change much so we may just leave them alone if it speeds up the process of getting the notarized copies of the homestudy to us sooner. One minor thing she wrote that totally gets under my skin is that I talked about my dad being sort of the authoritarian, disciplinarian and "decider." Okay George W. I would never, NEVER say such a stupid word. I may type made up words on my blog but that is one word I wouldn't use. I wouldn't even use it to make a wisecrack about George W. He's a nitwit. Not worth my time to heckle. Minor issues aside, we're going to email the factual corrections back today and hope to get the notarized copies within a week or so. If I understand correctly, our agency will send us the notarized copies along with our I-800 application for USCIS. We will submit that promptly and then wait. We've heard anecdotally that the wait is at least a couple of weeks, maybe a couple of months. Once we get the approval back, that will complete our dossier and we'll be ready to send it to China. Hopefully we're about 10 weeks away. We get our referral after that and travel 6 months later to pick her up. We finally have a timeline, give or take a few weeks here and there.
On the road again!
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