What an unholy mess—I just want to cry.

At first we just noticed a little bit of dust here and there. No biggie—I expected some mess. But then as we looked further, EVERYTHING was covered in dust.

Floors, baseboards, molding, appliances, inside cupboards (dishes, silverware, cups), everything under the sink (towels, cleaning products, etc.)… It just keeps going and going and going. I think it’s mostly tile dust from having to jackhammer the tile in the kitchen, but it’s still SO VERY disheartening.

This is what the sink and dishwasher looked like for the first two days. I first thought we could just do Rinse loads, but that didn’t take all the dust off…so we had to do actual Wash loads. 🙁 And normally cleaning would be somewhat easy…except everything was tossed in the garage so nothing is where it should be or it’s buried under piles of stuff.

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And just when you thought you were getting a handle on it all, you’d discover more. The entire pantry and every box and can in it was covered, too.

The kids’ cupboard:

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The lid drawer:

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We found shards of tile (and dust, of course!) on top of the refrigerator!

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And Owen’s door wasn’t shut, so every surface in his room was covered. The bathroom. Some of Katie’s room. 🙁

I honestly didn’t anticipate this much cleaning post-flooring-install. At least Tom had taken the day off so he was able to help—but that meant BOTH of us spent A FULL DAY cleaning—and there’s still more to do.

Apparently assuming our contractor would try to lessen the resulting mess was stupid. Though of course we didn’t expect them to have to jackhammer the tile out…but had we had any idea, we would have emptied the cupboards, too. Oh, and they apparently cut flooring in the house at one time or another, as the return heat/AC vent was FULL of wood dust. (I know they cut outside, too, because we saw sawdust in the grass and on the porch.)

This was our first foray into hiring construction stuff, but we did have some thoughts on what might happen—and this wasn’t it. They did attempt to wipe up some of the mess (the appliances, windows, and sliding glass door) but really just made it worse since it was done half-heartedly.

I am trying to look on the bright side in that we knew we’d have to clean the house before we list it and/or move out…but that would have been on MY schedule and I would have hired someone to come in and do most of it.

Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.

Owen’s first attempt on a real bike = FAIL

Once again, I had grand visions of Owen’s first bike-riding experience. (Well, minus the balance bike we attempted a long time ago. And the tricycle he never got the hang of.) I mean, riding a bike IS NOT HARD. Right? Especially with training wheels. Right? I mean, you just get on, push a little with your feet, and off you go, right? RIGHT?

Wow.

Either Owen has absolutely ZERO coordination and/or he’s just being stubborn…or I completely underestimated the amount of ability necessary to ride a bike and/or I am not a good teacher. He cannot seem to grasp that you need to push forward with your feet in a continual motion. At the first smidge of resistance he stops and says he can’t do it. I tell him, show him, push the bike with his feet on the pedals…and nothing. Inevitably he slams his feet backwards, which is—of course—the brake.

Am I expecting too much? Is riding a bike really harder than I think it is? For a kid who has never really ridden anything?

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All I know is I have officially passed the teaching-Owen-to-ride-a-bike baton to Tom. 🙂

I guess 13 years was a good run.

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I am just stunned at how it happened! I was sliding the screen door open and my hand got wedged between that and the sliding glass door. It barely even rubbed. It was obviously enough for me to notice, though, which I’m glad I happened to look down because that’s when I noticed the missing diamond (it was in the tracks).

And I’m pretty sure this isn’t a wait-while-they-fix-it fix. It’s a tension-mount, which I remember them saying was a much more rugged setting…and hence more difficult to fix if it did come loose (and I specifically remember them saying if I ever needed it resized, they’d actually have to melt the gold and redo the entire ring…or something along those lines).

Like I needed this to worry about right now.

Saved by a friend.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to get the lights up this year…it’s hard enough to do inside stuff…but outside stuff? Requiring a ladder and four arms? Plus the tree? Ugh. I had managed the mantle and was just going to plod along as much as I could during Katie’s naps and possibly skip the outside lights…until Owen asked when we were putting them up because he liked them. Cue mom guilt. So I posted my lament on Facebook and a friend graciously offered to help (they’re moving soon so aren’t decorating this season). Boooo for them moving, but woohoo for her offer to help!

But what a debacle. (Granted, a minor debacle or two in the grand scheme of things, but still a debacle typical of my life.) My friend is now the outside proof that STRANGE THINGS really do seem to happen to me.

First.

We plugged the lights in before we got started and they worked. By the time we got to the end, they were out. Huh? We look again. Yep, out. This can’t be, we think—we both saw them lit. RIGHT? Maybe it was the extension cord? We tried another. Nope. The outlet? Nope, another item plugged in and worked fine. Reset the outlet. Nope. Tried about six rearrangements of extension cords and direct into the outlet and…nothing.

WHAT. THE. HELL?

We took a step back off the porch and—AHA! It was only the last 4′ of lights that were out—the section right above us that we were looking up at. The rest were on. But seriously? They were brand new expensive LED lights last year. GRRR. So our options were to leave them as is or restring the whole house again with some old-school multi-colored lights that are many years old that were just extras. And I’m sure you can guess what option I chose. I couldn’t leave the mantle garland uneven…you think I’m leaving up lights that have a section burnt out? 🙂 So we restrung the whole house (at least we had the system down by then!) and I chucked the “old” ones.

Second.

This one should really be filed under YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. I wouldn’t have believed it if it didn’t happen to me—but I had photo proof and a friend watching. So there.

I think it was actually quite impressive:

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Yes, that’s a light completely wedged in the sole of my flip flop. What? How? I mean really? I was just walking along and it got jammed in there. JAMMED. Like we needed to use pliers to get it out—and of course it broke. Which meant I had to take a light out of an extra string of all-blue lights. And then we had to replace a few other burnt-out lights with…blue lights.

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Fixing the dips.

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By the time we got to the end of the house, we had enough extra to put on the bushes…except we noticed that most of them were burnt out as well. Ugh. By that time I was burnt out on lights myself so I just let them hang down the side of the house and that was that!

Then Ruth, saint that she is, asked if there was anything else I needed help with. Well, I said, we could put the tree up… So we broke open two wine coolers as our celebratory drink after the escapade that was putting up the Christmas lights (plus we were both sweating from doing the lights—it was 72°!) and put the tree together and decorated most of it! (We left the bottom undone for Owen to finish.)

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I can’t begin to thank Ruth enough. Really. She helped me not lose my shit when all kept going wonky. If I had been doing it by myself, the swearing would have been in utter frustration instead of in humor. 🙂

As soon as she left, someone was already making herself at home.

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And her sister checking things out, too. Thankfully, this is as much interest as they both show.

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Thanksgiving, photo fail, and friends.

The day started out well enough. Owen was very VERY excited about going to Uncle Roger’s for Thanksgiving…and kept asking me how many minutes how many minutes how many minutes. I told him it wouldn’t be until after Katie’s nap, so then he started asking how many minutes until her nap. Over and over and over. At 9am. 🙂 He told me he was going to go get in the car. I told him no, it wasn’t time yet. I finally told him it would be a few hours, and I would let him know when it was time…I wouldn’t let him miss it.

Fast forward until after Katie’s nap. I had the mashed potatoes going on the stove and their nice outfits all ready…and of course she woke up too early. Fine, no problem. I got them both dressed for pictures. Katie wasn’t terribly happy (she’s got a cold—as does Owen—and her nap wasn’t long enough) so it was challenging to say the least. And she was really REALLY cute, too, so I was disappointed. But I was snapping away and hoping I’d at least get one decent shot.

Then it was off to finish the potatoes. And take breaks every minute or so to wipe Katie’s nose. And try to get Owen to RELAX about getting his shoes and coat on and wanting to get in the car. And then I decided to take more pictures…AND DISCOVERED THERE WAS NO MEMORY CARD IN THE CAMERA SO I DIDN’T HAVE ANY PICTURES. I wasn’t in a great mood before that, so that just pushed me over the edge. (It’s the little things, I swear.)

So I was rushing to get everything packed to leave the house (changes of clothes for both kids because it was Owen’s Clean Out Weekend and because Katie accidentally got some of Owen’s “poop juice”, diapers, pull-ups, snacks, etc.), get the potatoes finished and in the crock pot, stack all the dirty dishes, let the dog out, and then—since I’m apparently a masochist—TRY TO TAKE MORE PICTURES WITH UNCOOPERATIVE KIDS… Needless to say I didn’t get one good picture.

The best picture of the super cute hand-me-down dress:

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The best of the awful sibling pics:

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The good thing about the day was going to our friend’s house—my babysitter’s house—so she took over Katie duty while her younger sister played with Owen. This became Katie’s favorite new activity:

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The kids were having a great time playing (Owen even asked to play on the big outdoor trampoline!), I was drinking wine and visiting, and all seemed well. Until Owen came over to me asking where the bathroom was, so I went with him to show him—and watched as he puked in the toilet. Twice. Oh lovely. I told him he might be going home—if he was sick, we really couldn’t stay. He immediately started whining that he didn’t want go…he wanted to keep playing. So I told him we had to take his temperature and if he had a temp, we had to go. He didn’t have a temp, so we stayed.

The dinner was nice and it was good to be with friends—it helped not to miss Tom quite as much. But of course Owen was frustrating. He had told me he would try all the new foods…but come time, he didn’t touch anything. He claims he ate a bite of mashed potatoes but he didn’t. He didn’t even want his yogurt. Sigh. Then he had to go potty—and I went to check on him (I don’t trust him when we’re not at our house)—and it’s a good thing I did because he had peed all over the toilet, floor, and waste basket. SERIOUSLY?! Breathe. Breathe. I know where the cleaning supplies are, so off I went. It wasn’t a big deal (and they didn’t care) but still, it was like WHAT ELSE IS GOING TO HAPPEN?! Then we called it an early night because Katie was getting tired and I really just wanted to get into jammies and relax.

Once we got home, I tried pictures again…and didn’t have much more luck.

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Both kids were in bed by 7 and then I got to relax…

Owen noticed what was wrong!

I can’t believe I’ve read this book 5-6 times and never saw it…but in my defense, it’s just a graphic and there’s technically nothing to read on it. And I’m usually reading fast so I don’t start crying.

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But then, after he noticed the 7 was missing…I noticed Wednesday was spelled wrong! TWO MISTAKES!

I contacted the company and they couldn’t believe in over 200 printings no one noticed! They thanked me and said they’d send a replacement book (which I declined, though maybe I should have accepted it so each kid could have one as a memento).

(Daddy’s Deployed is a completely customized children’s book for those with a parent deploying. The book features the name, gender, and physical attributes of, not only the child, but the parents as well!)

It looks like I’ll be doing the toy purge by myself.

I tried to have a talk with Owen about getting rid of some of his toys to donate to kids who don’t have as much as he does—especially since Santa will surely be bringing him some new toys for Christmas.

He seemed to really think about it and agree that would be a good idea.

Me: So what toys do you want to give away?
Owen: My costumes…my blocks…my guns…my swords…my trains.
Me: All of those things? You know you won’t get them back, right?
Owen: Yep.

That’s pretty much a list of ALL his favorite toys. I’m thinking he didn’t quite understand and was more concerned with the tower he was building at that moment. 🙂

So of the items he listed, I picked the toys he played with the least. I asked what specific trains he will donate and asked him to separate them into piles. I figured this would be interesting since he RARELY plays with them.

He picks out the Ikea trains to give away and his Owen train letters to keep. Okay, not bad. Then I dig for the Thomas trains he hasn’t even seen in at least six months and ask about those. Nope. HE LOVES THEM ALL AND THEY’RE ALL SPECIAL TO HIM! Of course they are. 😐

So it looks like I’ll be doing the toy purge by myself.

A Dead Prius

So Tom’s car is a Prius. Since he’s deployed, we took off most of the insurance (I think it has “garage” insurance) and it sits in the driveway. We put Stabil in the gas tank and I go out every so often to start it and reposition it in the driveway so the tires don’t sit in the same spot for six months. I have gone though this routine twice before with two other cars—for 12-13 months each—with no issues.

So of course guess what happened?

I went out to start it the other day and the doors didn’t automatically unlock. I thought I heard a very faint single beep when I tried it, but wasn’t sure. Hmmm, okay, I’ll just pop the key out of the fob and manually unlock the doors. Press the start button. Nothing. Oh crap. Put the fob in the ignition. Nothing.

$&!#

I know NOTHING about this car, really, aside from it’s a hybrid and we probably should have done a bit more research before just going along with status quo. Tom has been gone three months. I’ve started it twice for a few minutes. So I am guessing it never ran long enough and the battery is dead (hybrids have two batteries—one regular 12v that starts the car and the more expensive hybrid system battery).

So I called USAA to see if the car is insured for getting a jump (since it just has the most basic insurance on it) and it turns out I had more insurance than I thought I did—though not roadside and not what I thought I had. Turns out USAA does not offer storage insurance in North Carolina, which is what I thought we had. (I asked if North Carolina ever had storage coverage because I was positive our premiums really decreased past deployments…but she said it’s never been offered…so I have no idea what happened before.) So the increased premium to get us back to what we normally carry is a mere $16 a month… So I have to talk to Tom, but it looks like I will just add on full coverage and try to drive it every now and again. (The other inexpensive option is to plug it in to a trickle charger…so I’m researching that.)

My TiVo friends helped me out with info and links and whatnot (i.e. talked me off the ledge) and today David helped me jump it.

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It worked and I drove around the neighborhood for about 10 minutes. I’ll likely go out every day or so now just to start it until we decide on a more permanent solution.

Tom can come home any time now. 🙁

The Physical Saga

So when Owen switched from daycare to pre-k, no one told me he needed a new physical form filled out so I was a bit surprised when it popped up on the check-in monitor saying it’s overdue. I got the form from admin right then, went home, and used the doctor’s office web portal (as they suggest) to request an appointment.

Well, life is busy and I didn’t realize that they hadn’t gotten back to me in four days, so I called to schedule the physical—and of course they couldn’t get me in for another week, but whatever. So I show up yesterday and am told he’s already had his age 4 physical (that’s what the four-year well-visit is) and it’s good for a year…so if I go to the appointment today I will be charged since our insurance only allows one physical per year. They let me cancel so that part was fine, but I was still annoyed because had I known/realized that the well-visit check was the same exact thing as the required physical, I could have just dropped the form off TWO WEEKS PRIOR when I first got the warning message. So they tell me it will be two business days and I don’t give it another thought.

So this morning I drop Owen off at school and he’s super excited because it’s Halloween and he’s dressed as Thor and there’s a parade walk through the school scheduled and a party in the afternoon and it’s all just very exciting for a four-year-old. As I’m driving home, I get a phone call from the school asking if I had Owen’s physical, because if they don’t have it TODAY, he can’t be at school and I’ll have to come pick him up.

WAIT. WHAT? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

Yes, today is the absolute very last day he can be there without the physical form on file. I wonder how I didn’t know this. To be honest, I know I didn’t look too closely at the “due by” date, but there was NO warning that he wouldn’t be able to attend without it. And today of all days?!?!

I WAS LIVID.

So, I asked why they didn’t tell us ahead of time that he needed a physical and she said they did. I would have bet my life they didn’t, though, because I know I went through EVERYTHING in the welcome packet and there was no “new physical form” in there. The first time I heard it mentioned was when the notice popped up on the check-in monitor and I [started to make] the appointment that day—but of course that didn’t go quite as planned so I did waste some time. She said if they could fax it today he can stay, otherwise he’ll have to go home.

So when I get home, I call the doctor’s office and explained what was going on…and nope, nothing they can do, they are super busy and mine was the last one turned in. I practically beg, saying I’m going to have to take my son away from his Halloween party at school, yada yada yada. Nope, sorry. She didn’t even sound apologetic, which was annoying. At least fake it. She said she’d put a note on it and would call me if anything changed, but I can guarantee that won’t be happening. It’s really annoying because all it is is transcribing a few notes from his file to the piece of paper and checking a few boxes. Sure, there might be a pile of them, but each one can’t take more than 5-10 minutes. And you’d think they’d have a heart…but no.

I was so pissed. And I knew it would kill Owen—if they don’t get it there today he can’t go to school tomorrow on PJ day, which he’s been looking forward to all week. I admit I cried for a minute. 🙁 Then my anger took over and I went on a hunt for the welcome folder (which I’ve been meaning to do anyway since I need to put Owen’s birth certificate back in the safe) and looked through EVERYTHING again. No mention of any physical in any of the welcome materials and, of course, no form. Had there been a form, I would have definitely seen it when I first went through it.

So I decided that I would go in and pick him up at 10:30 when I knew the parade would be over. We’d then have to skip the party at the end of the day because that’s part of school, too. So I first went to talk to the admin, just to clarify HOW I was supposed to have known about the physical. She started by saying she will let him stay for today and the party (which made me happy—though it would have been nice if she said that earlier to save me a trip into town) and was then surprised when I told her I went through the welcome packet but there was no form in there (I told her “That’s why I asked for the form the other day—because it was the first time I’d heard of it.”). She basically blew that off saying “Hmmm, well there should have been a form but maybe I missed it.” That’s it? I thought I deserved a bit more of an apology than that, since none of this would have happened if the form would have been in the folder. (Yes, mistakes happen, but there’s a difference between realizing it on Day 1-14 as opposed to Day 31 when you’ve been called on it.)

ANYWAY, I also suggested it would be nice if the popup warning actually said “YOUR CHILD CAN’T ATTEND WITHOUT THIS PHYSICAL” and she said one of the three warnings did say that. Wait. Three? I only got one. Yeah, turns out the first notice was the Friday he missed school for being sick (when Grannie and Papa were here) and the second one must have been a day they picked him up and couldn’t get the fingerprint scanner to work so the office staff checked him out. So, basically a perfect storm of events from Day 1.

She really is a nice lady, and I didn’t want her to think I was a crazy person (plus I have to deal with her for the rest of the school year!), so I apologized for being so confused and told her I’m really not this disorganized…but apparently a bunch of little things went wrong from the beginning that just made it all weird. She seemed to think I wasn’t a lunatic (or at least she was good at faking it!) so I think we’re good.

Of course, if the doctor’s office can’t promise to get it to the school by like 10am tomorrow, he can’t go to PJ day. I don’t hold out hope…so today I get to make a big deal about staying home with mommy for a PJ and movie day just in case. And then hope they have it ready at 8am Monday, otherwise he gets a day at home with Gramma Jean (which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world)…

There’s a first time for everything.

So, with all the excitement (excitement?) of the grandparents being here and our schedule being off and me being sick and the kids being sick and my new phone’s issues with syncing calendars…I realized today that I missed my first ever month birthday picture. I was in line at Marshall’s when I heard someone ask what the date was and someone responded the 11th and my heart sunk—Katie’s 15m photo op should have been yesterday. DAMMIT.

Yes, I realize in the grand scheme of things it’s not a big deal…but I’ve been doing Owen for 4.5 years and Katie for almost 1.5 years without a fail. UNTIL NOW.

So when I got home, I immediately snapped a few pictures…

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And then as I was looking at the pictures I was thinking something didn’t look right. Anyone want to take a guess? Anyone? Any ideas? Yep…she’s not wearing her sticker. I snapped a pic like I do Owen’s pics…so I took a deep breath and did her photo like I would do Owen’s (adding text in Photoshop) except adding “1 day” to it. 🙂

And tomorrow I’ll get the real photo. If I can remember. 🙂

My 12-hour iPhone restore drama.

Of course I’m leaving out LOTS of details…but suffice it to say it was NOT a fun experience. This was the error I kept seeing over and over and over and over…

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Or it appeared to have restored, but there were no folders so I had 20 pages of apps all in a mish-mash and was missing anywhere from 10-30GB of who-knows-what depending on which restore I was on. Rebuilding from scratch was an option…just not a desired one (it probably would take a good 4-5 solid hours to get it back to “normal”). So I kept soldiering on, hoping it would finally JUST WORK.

  • 11:53am—Doh! I am now without a phone for at least an hour…oops! In my excitement to get my new phone restored…I forgot it takes FOREVER. I hope there’s no pre-k emergencies today!
  • 3:35pm—Well, it’s on its second full restore…I expect another three hours. I am not happy.
  • 4:48pm—GRRR. I’m currently on my third restore attempt…maybe the third time will be the charm?
  • 5:12pm—Same error message. A 4S iOS6 backup should work on a 5S with iOS7, right? I’m already at the point of wanting to smash this thing with a hammer.
  • 6:16pm—Currently on 5th attempt. Next, I’ll try upgrading the 4S to iOS7 and THEN trying the restore.
  • 8:59pm—If anyone needs to get a hold of me until further notice, email is probably the best bet. Nine hours in and I STILL don’t have a working phone…
  • 11:43pm—After trying two new suggestions, I am setting it to restore one last time and going to bed…and keeping my fingers crossed.

I was posting as I went along on a forum I frequent and they were trying to help me. I’ve posted there many, many times about how technology hates me, and this was a PERFECT example. Someone posted this picture, which explains it just about perfectly (Robn is another user who always had odd issues that shouldn’t happen…but I’m obviously worse off):

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I would think Michigan would be one of the more recognizable states.

I was wearing this shirt today (find it here) and had someone ask me “So, what am I looking at? Where’s home?”

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I would think Michigan would be one of the more recognizable states, wouldn’t you? Even if you had never lived there?

So I asked some of my online friends…and a few said no, they wouldn’t have recognized it! Even one who lives in a neighboring state!

I could see not knowing a boring square state like Colorado or one of the tiny ones like New Jersey…but Michigan?! REALLY?!

I was honestly gobsmacked.

I’m failing at preschool.

Wednesday I brought granola bars for Owen to keep in his cubby in case he doesn’t like their provided breakfast (since he’s SO picky)…and was told that’s against the rules since they provide breakfast. Government-paid-for yada yada.

This morning I absentmindedly sent Owen in a pull-up since he still had it on from yesterday (ex-lax fallout day) and it was still clean. I got pulled aside and told that’s a big no-no since this is a potty-trained class and they could get in BIG trouble if the health inspector happened to come in. I did explain why and said it wouldn’t happen again. :/

I logically understand both of these, but both were a big shock to me nonetheless.

Get off my lawn!

F the unknown neighborhood kids who rang the doorbell TWICE (because god forbid I didn’t get there in 10 seconds) and woke Katie up. And what did the three of them want?

Girl 1: Looking around and apparently off into space.
Girl 2: gigglegigglegiggle
Girl 3: “We’re offering dog-walking, do you have a dog?”

Sorry kids, if you want to offer a business like that at your young ages, you’d better have more to offer than that. No introduction, no names, no where they live, no paper with information… I almost asked “Do your parents know you’re out here doing this, and can I have their number to talk to them?”

Seriously. Parents let their kids out to do stuff like this?

I’m not so much of a curmudgeon that I mean they need to have a complete business plan or anything—and I’m all for letting kids experiment and do stuff on their own—but if you really want me to let you take care of one of my pets and you are serious about the venture, you had better damn well at least give me some more information. ESPECIALLY if I have no idea who you are.

GET OFF MY LAWN!

:p

Kitchen Calamity

So you all know I hate our kitchen—it’s just ENTIRELY too small (even if every single counter was completely cleared off, there’s still no good place to put a cutting board or mixing bowls, etc.). So I was getting dinner ready for our little grilling dinner party—starting the water boiling for rice, turning the big pan on for sauteing onions, and chopping onions on a cutting board on the stove. (I had debated cutting them across the sink, but I had already dirtied up the too-small cutting board so figured why change mid-stream?)

So I’m peeling and cutting onions and I see a small wisp of smoke and notice that my cutting board is a little too close to the rice pot, so I move it and continue. A few minutes later, there’s suddenly way more smoke and a putrid toxic smell and HOLY SHIT—I had turned the wrong burner on and my big plastic cutting board was melting. 😯

So in about the span of three seconds, I grabbed the melting board and set in on the sink, turned off the burner, and turned on the fans…just as Ruth was walking in from outside. She was surprised, of course, but there wasn’t much she could do. I opened the sliding door and was fanning the smoke out to hopefully keep the smoke detector from blasting…when it hit me: GET THE BURNING PLASTIC OFF THE BURNER. So I grabbed the always-handy razor blade from the drawer and scraped off the melted plastic which just about immediately halted the toxic smoke (and man was it TOXIC—it was literally burning my nose and throat). The smoke alarm never went off and the kitchen was back to normal in about five minutes.

Thankfully the rest of the dinner went off without a hitch and was super delicious!

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I joked that I cursed myself because just that morning I ordered three new bamboo cutting boards to replace some of my plastic ones that were getting a little janky…

What’s the point?

I get that you’re a small business (like two-person small) but if you never check your email, DON’T PUT IT ON YOUR BUSINESS CARD. And if it IS on your business card, when I specifically TELL YOU I will be emailing you asking for your address to set up auto payment, don’t let me assume that’s fine.

I literally told the lawn guy as such today AND told him he was damn lucky I had cash because I never have cash.

I want my old Express-Scripts back.

It’s amazing that shortly after Express-Scripts merged (or whatever) with Medco things went to hell.

And by that I simply mean I needed a refill but it said I didn’t have any but they would check with my doctor. Cool, that was easy.

A week later I get a phone call saying they’re having issues, my doctor came back as a…are you ready? DENTIST. WTF? And they gave me a completely wrong number (including the area code). But the doc’s name was right. SERIOUSLY? I gave her the right number, she thanked me, and said they’d keep trying.

A few days later I get an automated call. “We’re still having issues. Would you like us to continue working on it or would you like to cancel the order?” Um, why the F would I want to cancel the order? Yes, continue.

A few days later, another automated call asking the same thing. Yes, continue.

A week later I decided to check online and gee, it says it’s canceled. SERIOUSLY? I’m glad someone got back with me about this drug I needed refilled and they canceled without telling me.

So I played with the automated attendant trying to get info (impossible) and then finally got transferred to an attendant after 10 minutes. Twenty minutes later I get a rep who starts with “Our systems are down and I can’t help with any account or order information but you can wait for another rep. It will take about an hour.”

Ugh.

So I just basically told her what was going on (see above) and she said she’d transfer me to someone who could hopefully help me. I ask if I’m going to have to wait an hour. Oh no, she says. Then she transferred me…right back to the initial automated shit I had 30 minutes before. 😐

URGE TO KILL.

It’s a damn good thing I don’t need this drug immediately. And now I get to make another phone call at another time. Yay.

The urge to throttle a child.

Ugh.

We had a birthday party at a gymnastics club today for one of the kids in the mom’s group. It was scheduled for 1–2:30—perfect timing since Owen no longer naps. I was excited because Tom was going to stay home with Katie so it would just be me and Owen.

So what happens?

Owen falls asleep at 11:30. I gently start waking him up at 12:30 and it’s not happening. I get ready…keep checking on him…and finally he’s up, but he’s a HOT MESS. Whining, pouting, being grumpy and obstinate. After many rounds of “Do you want to go play with kids [his FAVORITE thing] or go to your room to take a nap [well, finish it]” he wouldn’t stop crying so I just sent him to his room.

Yes, technically it’s my fault since I woke him up but still. He RARELY naps. What the hell?!?

So I was pissed because I was REALLY looking forward to getting out without Katie AND seeing how Owen liked the gymnastics stuff to determine if we should get him in a class. And of course Katie was waking up from her nap and screaming during the middle of all this. And Tom was outside working…and didn’t really seem to care that she was up and I should have been leaving.

Tom tried to talk to Owen to get him to come downstairs but that didn’t happen, either. So there I sat. Pissed. And dealing with the screaming baby that I had hoped to get away from for two hours. Isn’t parenting fun?!

Fast forward an hour…

Owen wakes up and wants to put his shoes on to go to the party.

“Sorry, buddy, the party’s over. You missed it because you were whining and wouldn’t put your shoes on.” (Technically it wasn’t over yet, but by the time we would have gotten in the car and driven there, there would have been about 15 minutes left.)

More whining. More asking to put his shoes on. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Fast forward again…

Owen: I missed the party because I wouldn’t put my shoes on.
Me: That’s right.
Owen: Why?

So we had a discussion about how parties are scheduled for certain times so you have to be there AT that time—you can’t just decide when you want to go and think the party will still be there.

Owen: I’m sad.
Me: Why?
Owen: I missed the party.
Me: Yes, I’m sad we missed the party, too.
Owen: I’ll put my shoes on the next time.

We’ll see if he remembers.

The baby monitor is going back up today.

As I walk into the living room this morning:

Tom: Look who just got up!
Me: Katie?
Tom: Yes, she slept in!
Me: Oh, you mean after crying for 20 minutes at 6:30?
Tom: I didn’t hear her over the fan.
Me: I did. I’ve been up since 6:30. FAIL.

The baby monitor goes back up today (it was down from vacation). I only have four more weekends of not having to get up with the early-rising kids…and I need every last one of them to be successful.

My sad, overgrown garden.

With all the rain we had while we were gone (we’ve heard 9″), our garden went batshit crazy. The tomatoes overgrew everything and cut off the basil (you can’t even see it). Tom had to cut it back with the weed eater…and it still needs to be thinned out by hand.

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The rabbits had a field day with things that hung outside the container (who knew they liked basil?). And the leaf lettuce got so big it’s now completely useless—and I don’t think I’m going to be planting any more.

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I’m sad.

Apple Fail

So, Owen was eating an apple while we were hanging out outside. He’d eat a few bites then put it down and go play. Lather, rinse, repeat.

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After awhile he comes up to me, holds it out, and asks “What is this?” And I see seeds and a tiny piece of apple remaining and quickly realize that he’s completely eaten the ENTIRE apple—core, seeds, and all—and is pointing at some seeds.

I then realize that we’ve apparently never taught him how to eat an apple. Which is actually believable since we usually cut them up for him and he never has eaten more than a few bites off a whole apple.

#PARENTINGFAIL

We’re really behind.

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14 Family Handyman
1 USAA Magazine
3 Costco Connection
2 Taste of Home Simple & Delicious
11 Entertainment Weekly
1 Popular Mechanics
1 Cooks Country
3 Cook’s Illustrated
7 Consumer Reports
3 Food Network Magazine
3 Parenting
3 Parents
3 Family Fun
1 Yum for Kids Food & Fun

Though I think most or all of the Consumer Reports have been leafed through. And possibly some of the Family Handymans. But some are still in the plastic…