Round Up the Bedouins

It's happening! We're packing. And let me tell you, it is quite the camel caravan. As many of you international adoptive families already know, packing for the pick up is quite the scene. We're bringing our own gear, Baby M's gear, and some donations for the care center. It's like a geometric puzzle trying to squish in diapers, tolietries, shiny baby objects, ten bottles of hand sanitizer (donation - we're not that germophobic) and an IPOD.

I would love to figure out how to pack things in another dimension, and then access them through some wormhole when I get there. Could happen.

I think I'm halfway done with Baby M's suitcase. I might even bring him a little baby fanny pack where he can store his passport, Eurorail pass, and clove cigarettes. Frankly, its like packing for Cher. But I don't think Cher's costume changes have to do with pooping oneself. I'm picking some rather bold outfits. For most of the time, he will be covered with a modest baby blanket, but underneath, a fashion plate burps.

The bottle thing has me flummoxed. Many different bottles. Different sizes. Different nipples (stop laughing 12 year olds!). And then there's that poison plastic emission stuff I need to avoid. Now, I lived in California and considered myself rather up on the environmental forefront. I cut the six pack plastic tabs so the dolphins wouldn't be censored. But I'm not sure which bottle is the right bottle. So, I'm bringing them all. One camel in the caravan (named Jeff) is assigned solely to hauling a full inventory of different baby bottles.

Back to packing...