Make it stop.

December 13, 2010

You know that handbasket?  The one that goes to hell?  Yeah.  My life’s been in that basket for far too long now, and I want off this ride.

Things have been generally stressful since Hubs went west in mid-September, leaving me as the Responsible Party with all three kids, three dogs, and a house to pack and move.  Then he had a wreck on November 1. Much chaos and difficulty ensued with getting his car evaluated, getting answers from insurance, etc.  After three weeks, they finally decided to total his car and he had to find a new one, fast.  Mind you, he went ahead and bought that car over three weeks ago, because he needed a car for work and insurance declined to pay for a rental car any longer, and yet the check from insurance for his old car didn’t show up until yesterday.

I was already developing serious concerns about our insurance company before I had a wreck, on November 16.  Again, it took a ridiculously long time for them to decide whether to repair or total my minivan. My sweet minivan (don’t laugh!), the only new car I have ever owned, which Hubs got for me for Christmas six years ago. Yeah, it was a mom car, but it handled so well, and had nice leather seats and a DVD player and room for all of the kids and assorted junk.  By December 3, they finally decided to total the car.  Did I mention that they kept telling me that they were waiting on a report from the guy who inspected my car?  And they fed me this line for a week and a half? And the report was there, in their system, the whole time, only with a slightly different title than what they apparently expected? Gah.

So, my rental car subsidy ran out on Friday, but I cannot locate the title for my late lamented van (I’m wondering if the bank ever sent it when I paid off the loan – I can’t remember receiving it), and so I am in a similarly awkward position of having no money and no vehicle.  Well, actually, I still have the rental car, because I don’t have a choice. I have to apply for a replacement title, and then send in that title to the salvage yard so that they can officially total my van and pay me.  I fear this may take a while.  Did I mention that we’re moving to Texas? In a week?

In other fun news, I went to the emergency room one night over the Thanksgiving holiday – always a good time. I wished fervently for hand sanitizer – nay, a personal protection bubble – while I sat in the waiting area with A (the patient), baby D (the bottle-refusing baby), and a huge crowd of coughing, hacking, sniffling sick people. A fell and whacked her cheek and the side of her body pretty well, but the doctor said she didn’t have a concussion and sent us home after more than three hours.

As if the poor kid hadn’t endured enough (the fall, plus night terrors and sleepwalking that seems tied to her father’s absence), she got sick last week. Both of her brothers got the flu shot earlier in the fall, but she was in school when I took them. And something came up when I planned to take her for a flu shot, and with all of the business, neither she nor I ever got the shot. So naturally, my sweet baby girl got the flu.

She missed four days of school last week, and now she’ll miss tomorrow, too – she’s healthy enough to return, mind you, but school was canceled due to the threat of inclement weather. There’s a dusting of snow on the ground, and that’s enough to call off school in these parts. I’m sure others who live to the north would laugh at the way Georgians react to snow. Quick! Everyone run to the grocery store and buy all of the milk and bread! And yes, the kids and I were out there with the rest of them at Kroger yesterday. In addition to the requisite bread and milk, we also bought Oreos, hotdogs, and some ham from the deli to round out the gourmet offerings on our menu.

So, I’m dealing with an inadequate rental car (A has to ride in front – the back seat is too small for three car seats/boosters), a sick girl, a wild boy who’s stir-crazy from staying inside so much, a baby who wants to be held at all times, a dog that needs to be rehomed before we move (which makes me so worried and sad and knotted up inside), and the house. Packing the house. Which is going well, in terms of boxing and packing items, but which is also making me sick.  The dust stirred up with all of the moving and such has ignited a disgusting sinus thing that makes me cough, snort, and generally act in a decidedly unladylike fashion. The cough has kept me up at night, and I woke yesterday to find that I also had laryngitis. Still have it today. And that makes it so much easier to talk on the phone and get things done in preparation for the move.

Argh. This needs to stop now. I really need a few things to go well. I could use a streak of good luck. Smooth sailing, or what you will.


From the mouths of babes

August 13, 2010

I’ve learned many wonderful things from my children this week:

  • My husband has super powers.  Super Daddy powers, actually.  He uses these powers to replace light bulbs and fix broken toys.  S told me all about it.
  • Anthony Bourdain soothes the angry baby.  Baby D loves the sound of his voice, and he will become quiet and entranced whenever No Reservations comes on the tv.  Fortunately he’s too young to pick up Anthony’s occasional potty mouth.
  • My daughter A loves first grade.  My son S also loves first grade, but he, alas, is in pre-k.  And incredibly jealous of his big sister.  He wants to go to her school and be in her class.  I think he believes they eat prepackaged cheese and cracker snacks all the time, since A’s teacher gave her one at “meet the teacher” day.
  • Night terrors actually terrify the parent who witnesses them, not the kid.  A has been having these lately and has no memory of them on waking.  On the other hand, I get so frustrated by my inability to comfort her and get her back to sleep easily while she’s in her zombie-like state that I frequently cry after the episode is over.
  • Baby D is very, very crafty.  Only three months old, and he can already get rid of his dissolving medicine tablets by allowing the medicine to dribble out in a small stream of drool.  And it gets on his chubby little neck, so I don’t always notice it right away.  Tricky little baby.
  • A and S love ranch dressing.  They use it to dip carrots, chicken nuggets, fries, and anything and everything else.  They don’t like ketchup.  If we don’t have ranch, they’ll accept mayo as a substitute dip.  Who knew they had such Continental tastes?
  • A and S are very picky eaters, who now think they don’t like many foods they loved in the past.  I can sneak “suspicious” fruits into homemade smoothies, however, and they’ll both tell me how delicious the smoothies are.
  • Kroger now makes lemon wafers (like vanilla wafers, only, well, lemon) and they are delicious.  S had them at my parents’ house and loves them, so we got a box for home too.
  • I’m a really safe, really good driver.  Hubs is a good driver too, but sometimes he drives fast.  The kids told me both of these facts.  A and S will tell on him (to me) for speeding.  They also rat out their grandfather (my dad) to their grandmother (my mom) for eating too many cookies, particularly when his appetite results in a reduced number of cookies available for their own consumption.
  • S knows the lyrics to Starship’s “We Built This City.”  And he loves to sing and dance to it!  The song is on Hubs’ iPod, so he’s heard it on long trips, but not that many times.  Mind like a steel trap, that boy.
  • A understands the concept of the pathetic fallacy, even if she doesn’t know that particular term.  She discussed this after watching a cartoon in which rain was referred to as clouds crying.