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We made it!  It’s now 5am.  Nobody is asleep.  Eva’s pretending to be asleep on the floor of the boys’ room.  The boys aren’t even pretending.  We forgot to ask about the Vietnamese word for “jet lag”.  I’m doing a Daddy Report.

We parted ways from the caretaker about 15 feet in front of airport security.  Bad idea.  I thought they were going to arrest me for child-napping … why else would there be such shrieks of terror?  I adopted my most calm, oh-yeah-this-screaming-is-no-big-deal look as we struggled through.

The flight went great.  The boys were wonderful.  A few hundred rounds of fill-the-pocket-empty-the-pocket was our favorite game.  The man sitting in that seat is a saint.  An all-night flight is exhausting, but exhaustion brings about sleep, which is quiet.  Daddy didn’t sleep.  The boys don’t know about blankets.  The boys hate blankets.  Only a heated Daddy mattress would suffice.  But all was well.

However … how is it that after 20 hours of travel, just as the captain announced “We are approaching San Francisco, please return to your seats”, that we unleash our first gut-wrenching, must-change poopy diaper.  Poopy diapers should never be changed in such a great rush in cramped quarters.  Too many things go wrong that you don’t want to go wrong.

Fran and Jan met us at the airport with balloons, stickem-toys, smiles, hugs, a picture-sign and a van.  They are angels.  It was so touching to have such a warm welcome home.  Thank you!  Once home, we announced our arrival with some good crying, and neighbors Bob and Diana came over to join us.  THEN … we entered the house.

I knew the house wasn’t ready for toddlers.  We tried.  With my newly trained Daddy-vision, however, I understood that it was Dr. Evil’s House of Horrors.  Ooooh … took about 30 seconds to start playing with the stove.  The fridge sure is fun.  Wow, look at how the tall, wobbly lamp swings!  And all those high-quality, wooden toys we bought back when we thought we were adopting toy-experienced, Swedish kids named Sven, Olaf and Borg … pure, hardened missiles to our crew.  Shelves of exposed books for the destroying.  Pointy metal fireplace things.  Some rooms need doors.  Some doors need locks.  Some lockable doors need steel reinforcement.

We topped off Dr. Evil’s House with a nice, Mill Valley temperate climate.  Remember the blankets?  The boys hate blankets.  They won’t use them.  And they get cold.  And cry.  Whoops.  I just put a portable heater in their room and turned up the thermostat to 90 to recreate Vietnam downstairs.

Bob was funny.  Before leaving he said, “We’ll leave now so that you can have some family time.”  To the uninitiated, it sounds like we’re going to sit around and plays games.  But Bob is not uninitiated.  Bob and Diana adopted Nunu.  They know.  What he really meant was, “I did my time.  Now it’s your time.”

I’m genuinely touched by such an outpouring of support and love upon our arrival home.  Thanks to you all.  It’s 5:30am.  It’s like a Turkish sauna in the boys’ room and the triplets finally fell asleep.  Pretty soon it will be time to wake them up.  Just another day at Dr. Evil’s House of Horrors.

The waiting is over.  The Diaper Dude is packed.  The paperwork is done.  Late checkout is approved.  The vans are scheduled.  We’ve trained for this.  No more research.  No more practice.  No more test runs at local restaurants or short-haul flight from Saigon to Hanoi.  This is the real thing!  It’s travel time!  The rubber meets the road tomorrow starting at 2pm Tuesday, Vietnam time … that’s Oh-dark-hundred, midnight Tuesday morning Stateside .

I’m filing my last report from Vietnam tonight.  Tomorrow we’ll be thick in the middle of the action.  Two adults.  Three toddlers.   And no caretaker!  The caretaker will take her final bye-bye.  It’s just us.  And ahead of us lay 15 hours of airplane, airplanes with seat belts!  With 3 1/2 hours of van ride, and 5 hours of airport waiting, that’s about 24 hours in all.

The triplets are only about 800 days old, so 24 hours is an eighth of a percent of their entire life.  That’s like me at 50 years old traveling nonstop for 3 weeks!  But they’re ready.  The rain insured that we stayed indoors most of the day to get good and ready for being cooped up on the plane.  We did a final 30 minutes of open-the-door-close-the-door to keep our skills sharp, carbo-loaded this evening on congee for baby, and got to bed nice and late after getting Daddy to talk in Stern-Daddy-Voice in response to repeated hitting.  Top form all around.

Mommy’’s ready.  She doped up on cyclobenzaprine after some acutely painful muscle spasms in her ankle flared up in response to getting clobbered by a flying battery powered noise-maker.  She’ll probably be able to walk tomorrow, but the site of her hobbling to the bathroom tonight set all the boys at ease as evidenced by the chorus of crying.

Daddy managed to feed, milk, change and bed the trio solo, assisted by a big slab of butter in the congee (don’t tell Mommy), Stern-Daddy-Voice, allowing the triplets to have their run of the kitchen (don’t tell Mommy that, either), and the rest of the beer (Mommy will be able to figure that out on her own).  But it all worked out … Nhan didn’t cut himself on the big knife, Tam failed to destroy the washing machine, and Tai didn’t set off the fire extinguisher.

That’s it.  The triplets have adoption visas, which mean that the moment they pass through customs in San Francisco, they will be US Citizens.  By the time you read the next Daddy report, we’ll be a family of four Americans and one amazing Czech Mommy.

We were scheduled to go to Halong Bay today, but our trip got canceled due to a typhoon hovering over the coast. We are very disappointed. We have a slim chance to go on Monday, but the likelihood is not great.

So we spend the morning in the outdoor play area – it was much easier to do with our caretaker, so we could be one-on-one with the boys. This allowed us to introduce them to more advanced slides and even the swing, which they really liked. In the afternoon it started to rain so we stayed in the hotel.

The man who “spends his life climbing the corporate ladder, only to discover it’s up against the wrong wall” is successful in his outer life, but misses the boat of his inner soul.  I can see clearly how this gets started.

After the caretaker leaves, Nhan has taken to standing by the apartment door crying, fumbling with the twice-turned deadbolt, eventually escalating his demands to willpower-shattering screeches.  Something must be done.  I try to explain clearly how the caretaker is no longer there, and will return tomorrow.  Besides, I say, that’s not mommy anyway.  This has the predictable effect of no effect.  I try distractions of all sorts, but Nhan will not be distracted.  I beg.  No joy.  I ignore.  The volume increases.  Eventually I must either kill myself or open the door.  I open the door.

Nhan heads out on his great adventure to find the caretaker.  Naturally, since no great adventure can go unshared, the two brothers race for the door and out into the hall.  They go about 3 feet.  Confusion ensues.  Where is the caretaker?  They get no satisfaction.  Nhan, fully wound up by now, presses on, making it around the hall corner, from which he can see the great portal to the  beyond … the elevators.  Still no caretaker.  No joy.  It’s time to cry again, now in the hallway.  We have at this point advanced nothing more than the vantage point of our crying.

Yesterday at this point, Daddy managed to morph this scenario into a gleeful run back and forth from the door to the elevator.  Whoopie!!!  Let’s run!  Let’s run again!  Every time a cry started up, we shifted that into running and screaming.  But Daddy is learning, too.  Remember the uppies?  (see an earlier Daddy Report)  Daddy now knows not to develop any game that he himself doesn’t want to play endlessly.  The running-noisily-through-the-hallway game seems like a bad idea.

Daddy waits.  And watches.  Eventually, Tai gets bored looking for the caretaker. He wasn’t looking for her in the first place.  Tai returns to the apartment door. And grunt/cry/whines to be let in.  Daddy opens the door.  Tai goes in.  Door closes with Daddy waiting outside.  Tai is  now isolated and by himself, which he doesn’t like.  Three seconds later, a cry is heard from inside.  Daddy opens the door.  Tai comes out.  Door closes.  Tai talks Tam into giving up the chase.  Tai and Tam stand by the door crying.  Daddy opens door.  Tai and Tam go in.  Door closes.  Nhan, now isolated outside, wants inside with his brothers.  Door opens.  Nhan goes in.  Door closes.  Countdown 3 … 2 … 1 … crying from inside.  Nhan wants to find the caretaker.  Daddy opens the door.  All three boys come out.  Door closes.  Nhan doesn’t really want the help.  Nhan returns to door.  Daddy opens door.  Nhan enters.  Door closes.  Tai and Tam are bored with this. Countdown 3 … 2 … 1.  Nhan’s crying from the inside because he’s alone. Tai and Tam are crying from the outside becaue they’re bored.  Daddy opens the door.  There’s a collision of opposing traffic.  A toe gets stubbed.  More crying.  Nhan makes it out.  Door closes.  Countdown 3 … 2 … 1 and Tam and Tai are crying.  Daddy opens door. And so on, in and out, open and close, back and forth for about 30 minutes.

Why does Nhan want to find the caretaker?  She wears a white uniform and speaks Vietnamese. She reminds him of the orphanage.  Nhan wants the orphanage.  But the orphanage is a dead end path.  No matter how well the boys were loved at the orphanage, and crying all around by the boys and their orphanage caretakers indicates they were loved, it’s safe to say the boys’ future is improved by moving forward with us.  Their future is in the USA.  Returning to the orphanage isn’t progress … it’s familiar.

Nhan doesn’t really want to return to the orphanage.  He only thinks he does.

Like the executive who can’t step off the ladder, Nhan is falling back on what is familiar.  This adventure with Mommy and Daddy is new and exciting, but unfamiliar.  We are dragging him into his future, and hopefully a bright one, with a little bit of crying and screeching along the way.

When Nhan’s screeching hit’s a peak and Daddy’s patience hits an ebb, sometimes Daddy uses the Stern-Daddy-Voice.  It’s a scary voice.  I knew that impatient Daddies everywhere find that voice.  I didn’t realize how quickly I would find mine.  And when I find it, just underneath my Stern-Daddy-Voice is a longing for the peace and quiet of married couple life.  My mind cries out for the comfort zone of silence.  But that is not where my bright future lies any more than the orphanage is for Nhan.  Just as I drag Nhan into his future, he drags me into mine, a future that is as new and exciting, and as  scary and unfamiliar for me as his future is for him.

I don’t really want to return to my life the way it was.  But I sure do think so at times.

In the morning Wallace had Daddy time one-on-one with the boys at the swimming pool. They were  easier to manage, and they each got Daddy’s undivided attention. It was a big hit! We’ll definitely do that again.

During boys’ nap time I went to check out another, supposedly bigger, supermarket (Fivimart at West Lake) to find more Pampers, and possibly some pants or shorts for the boys.  Almost all the pants and shorts that we brought with us from the US are too wide in waist for our boys. We bought some cotton pants in HCMC but the washer/dryer in our serviced apartments is working or not based on the mood of the day, and it takes for ever to line dry pure cotton.  I have enough t-shirts but I am constantly short on change of bottoms.  I scored a set of shorts there.

In the afternoon, we had an interview appointment at the US Embassy for getting immigrant visas for the boys. The boys slept late, so it was a mad rush to get there, but visa documents were successfully signed and submitted. We were told to come back for the passports and visas between 4:00-4:30.

We spend the wait in the nearby Thu Le Park ZOO. We thought it would be good for the boys to get some exposure to animals, of which they seem to be a bit afraid. The ZOO was a quite sad affair with sad, often injured or overweight animals.  However, monkeys did catch the boys’ attention, probably because they were quite active jumping around. The boys showed no particular interest in any of the resting animals:  Nhan was a lot more interested in the merry-go-round with little cars, and Tai was fascinated with a big yellow digger that was working in a fenced-off area. Oh well, we’ll leave the animals introduction for another time.

For dinner, we repeated yesterday’s success of eating at the table. It went well again.

We are scheduled to go to Halong Bay tomorrow, so we decided to keep today easy, so the boys are not over-tired. We noticed that they are learning to play. Tai started playing with the little cars, pushing them around on the upside down table (much easier to do than on the carpet!), and they also had a lot of fun chasing the big inflatable ball. And they are starting to play pek-a-boo. So great progress on finding something interesting to do. They are even starting to be gentle on the stuffed animals that we brought with us, and that they were initially very afraid of, for some reason.

During naptime, I went on my shopping excursion again, looking for little something for the boys to have from their home country. One of the caretakers seems to be taking naps with our boys; and they end up getting up from their nap really late. So we didn’t do much in the afternoon, however, in the evening we spent some time in the outdoor play area, and also ventured to a local store hoping to buy sandals for the boys. We found they have wide farmer’s feet, and no locally available sandals would fit them, so we have to wait what we find back in the US.

We are starting to have eating issues … the boys used to eat really well, but ironically, our caretakers are having a negative effect here, as they always share with them whatever they order/take from buffet for themselves during our joint meals; I guess it is Vietnamese way. Unfortunately, they often don’t pick the healthiest meals (think western –style fatty foods like French fries, donuts, croissants with salami, and such) and tend to slip various less-than desirable pieces in the boys’ mouth or hands before I manage to stop it. Part of the problem is that we have a language barrier, they don’t speak English. When I manage to prevent one thing, there is inevitably something else of equally questionable nutritional value being fed to the next child. And once one of the boys gets something, the others see it and demand it. Also, taking back anything that is already in their hands results in ear-deafening screams – which, if one’s ears and heart can bear it, is still not something one wants to subject other hotel guests to. As a predictable consequence, the boys are getting a lot more fussy and difficult to feed regular healthy meals as they used to have in the orphanage, which they really liked when we first met. Instead they keep eyeing the fatty French fries or croissants or on the caretaker’s plate. Sigh. I can’t wait to have them home!

In the morning, there were one-on-one swim adventures with Daddy, and joyful squealing over chasing bubbles with Mommy.

During the boys’ nap, I headed for souvenir shopping. I found some cool streets near the cathedral; sadly, my camera seems to not be able to handle local humidity anymore (or perhaps the various inadvertent kicks by the boy in my ergo carrier?). So no pictures. I am planning to try to go back with the video camera during the next naptime. I also had an opportunity to get a more personal experience with local traffic: I was trying to pay with a credit card, but the line in the store was busy, so the very helpful store owner’s associate drove me on her moped to their other store to pay there. Yes, I guess it was a bit trusting of me to get on the moped with an unknown person – but they both seemed very nice, and all went well. And getting so very close to the various vehicles (the way they drive here) was quite an experience.

After naptime, we headed for lunch to KOTO (which stands for Know One Teach One), a non-profit restaurant project for career training of former street kids. There were filming an interview on the ground level, so we were ushered to have our lunch at the lounge, with plush seats and big bar. The boys handled it great, behaved and were relatively quiet, as if they understood this was not a regular noisy lunch place. Food was delicious. The boys even tried their first ice-cream; Tai and Tam loved it, but Nhan was not so sure about this cold stuff.

Afterwards we explored the Temple of Literature, which was also the place of the first Vietnamese University to educate the sons of mandarins (11^th century). It has a park setting, so it is easy to do with kids. The boys loved the red lanterns hanging all over the place. We let them run around in the courtyard, which they loved. Then they set their hearts on climbing on one of the statues, which kept them entertained for the rest of the time. It seems like we indeed have budding rock-climbers!

In the morning we went to pick up boys’ Vietnamese passports, which was very uneventful. Then the social worker, Ms. Ngan, took us to the SOS International Clinic to get a health check for the boys. That was not my favorite event.

It started with the screening for swine flu (i.e., sticking a digital thermometer in their ear) upon entering the building, which got the trio crying and set the mood for the rest of the visit. After a long wait, during which the boys were getting very bored, we were invited to get measured and weighed, and do another test that required their finger to be put in a special contraption. The boys were not in the mood to cooperate. Tai decided he did not want to get measured, and even the joint efforts of the nurse, caretaker and social worker did not make him stand for the measurement. So they finally resigned, and assigned him the same height as his brother Tam. Nhan was fine with measurements but screamed his lungs off when he had to put his finger into the contraption. In efforts to simplify things, the nurse bribed them all with lollipops. Except, they never had such candy before, and so ended up touching it all over with their hands, and then touching everything around. So everything and everybody who held them got sticky all over. Oh well.

The second part of the check up involved a visit with a French doctor. The boys hated having their clothes taken off, and demonstrated very healthy lungs … this did make checking teeth and throat easy. The doctor checked their ear … again with the sticking of things in the ear, which they really, really hate. All the news was good. No scabies. The dark spots that looked a bit like bruises on their behinds were called Mongolian Spots, which are harmless and common among Asian children.  The boys were deemed healthy and well.

After the check up the boys had a long nap to catch up on all the exerted energy. After lunch we took them for a short walk – i.e. carried them in the ergo carriers so they could watch traffic, which is their favorite past-time, and ended the day in the indoor playroom.

At dinner we introduced the boys to adult-style eating while sitting in their own chairs at the table. It went surprisingly well, and cut out all the running around as they tend to do when fed while sitting on the floor. The only downside is the tippy chairs – they require serious watching.

After a relatively easy morning, the boys had a very long nap, which Wallace used for work on the computer and I for a short excursion to the Old Quarter to look for souvenirs. Afterwards, we ventured to an outside restaurant Pho 24 for delicious noodle soup, followed by a short walk in the park around the Hoan Kiem Lake. The boys are getting used to the Ergo carriers, and even the caretaker asked us to get one for her.

On our previous outing the boys did not want to walk at all, and wanted to be held at all times. This time, the boys wanted to be let out of the carriers in the park, and then wandered around a bit – barefoot, as we didn’t expect them to get so brave so quickly and did not bring their shoes.

Today’s caretaker departure got surprisingly easy: they got their bottle at the time of her departure, followed by a visit to the indoor playroom, and there was almost no whining. Could we hope they got over it for real?

The first request for an uppie at the orphanage looked sooooo cute, the little boy standing there with upturned, pleading eyes and outstretched hands.  Our response looked sooooo innocent and fun, as Mommy picked up her little one and spontaneously blurted out, “Uppie!”.  Wow, we were bonding already!  Mommy gave uppies.  Daddy gave uppies.  Daddy uppies came equipped with spinning games of airplane and upside down swinging.  Competitive pressure forces Mommy to match the Daddy upgrades, and all was well.  Uppies were a hit.

Toys may come and toys may go, but back at the apartment, it’s uppies that live on.  Uppies provide comfort.  Uppies let toddlers play with switches.  Uppies give a better view of, well, everything.  Uppies!  Uppies!  Never enough uppies!

The first indication of the darker side of uppies appeared after the caretaker went home. Two parents and three toddlers creates a market for a whole new game, Double Uppies!  Big strong Daddy does Double Uppies!  So do tough, short Vietnamese caretakers, something to marvel at.  Once again Mommy has to match the feature upgrade, something accomplished through the indomitable motherly strength.  Even Mommy does Double Uppies!

There are three kinds of toys in our apartment. The kind that  none of them care about.  The kind they like but which we have three virtually identical copies of (thank god they don’t care much about color).  And the kind which we fight over.  Mommy and Daddy Uppies are the third kind.

Tai staked out Mommy early on.  Mommy’s uppies are Tai’s toy.  Nhan moved slower, but eventually claimed Daddy as his.  Tam gets the caretaker … until she leaves.  Then we scream for a while, followed by a Double Uppie request.  Double Uppies, as fun as they are, pretty much spoil it for the one who used to have the solo uppie.  Tam moves in on Daddy for Double Uppie.  Nhan gets disgusted having to share Daddy and now wants down.  Nhan muscles in on Tai’s uppie with Mommy.  Tai descends.  Tam, now bored with Daddy, gets down.  Nhan returns to his home turf with Daddy.  Tai, who would really prefer to be with Mommy, but jealousy trumps loyalty, immediately returns for a Double Uppie with Daddy, just long enough to frustrate Nhan, who then descends.  Tai, job well down, descends and returns to his home turf with Mommy, chasing Tam out of the tree.  And up and down we go until exahaustion trumps love.

There’s a reason that acorns and apples grow on trees while watermelons and pumpkins grow lazily on vines near the ground.  We have become watermelon trees, our boughs bending heavily under the load. We brought Ergo Carriers, marvels of western technology to help with this dilemma.  They help a lot with extended solo uppie time, but don’t help much with double uppies and definitely don’t make uppie-up-and-down any easier.  However, Team Vietnam have replaced that adorable, puppy-dog plea for uppies with an equally cute but somewhat more expectation-laden method of communication;  they bring an Ergo Carrier to us.  The meaning is clear … “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I want an uppie.”

Like all great conflicts, whether for power, territory, or control, it is ultimately the steady and willful focus of intention and resources which determines the outcome.  Mommy and Daddy may look bigger and stronger, but Team Vietnam have numbers and focus on their side.  Mommy and Daddy can only fall back on love and Neitsche … what does not kill us makes us stronger.