Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
I woke up this morning. And the screen on my phone looked like this.
That's right. Blank. Nada. Nothing. Redundant, I know. I was standing in front of T-Mobile when they opened their doors this morning. I expected magic. And fireworks. And sparkles. Instead I got, "Go home, and try this. Then, dial xyz cause I can't remember what he actually said from your cell to call customer service." Oh really, genius. I should call them. From my phone that won't turn on. When I told Mr. Not Magic or Helpful At All Man that his lack of action pissed me off, he proceeded to tell me all about his bad day. Guess what. I don't care.
At home, his special magic fix, did not work. I made my first call to customer service. Not from my cell phone. Which, of course, required extra top secret verification that I should in fact be attempting to fix this broken phone. Because it would be a real issue if someone not on the account attempted to troubleshoot my phone. And although, I was in fact on the account, they decided I was not. Even after calling my husband fourteen times and having him confirm my ability to be trusted with my own phone. And so, argument and thirty minute phone call number one began.
Five phone calls and two and a half hours later, Blackberry technical support determined they could not fix the problem. I needed a new phone. Which is funny, because that is what I said. TWO AND A HALF hours ago. "Ma'am, just call T-Mobile back, and tell them you need a phone exchange." Which sounded simple.
Except then T-Mobile was unconvinced, and thought perhaps they should send me to Blackberry technical support for further assistance. The same technical support that sent me to them for a new phone. This was a fun loop. Finally, I began responding to all statements and questions with, "SEND ME A NEW PHONE."
Ma'am can you hold, please. SEND ME A NEW PHONE.
Ma'am, have you attempted to take the battery out. No, of course not, asshat. Nobody in the past six phone calls though to have me do that! SEND ME A NEW PHONE.
Ma'am what does the screen look like now. SEND ME A NEW PHONE.
As we headed into hour three, they finally decided to SEND ME A NEW PHONE. I guess they got tired of my screaming and analogies. "If I bought a shirt and it ripped before I even took the tag off of it, I would take it back to the store. The store would then not send me home, and ask me to attempt to sew it myself. When they failed, they would also not send me to another store to ask them for help. They would simply get ME A NEW shirt." How was this complicated? The phone was dead. Shit happens. Phones mysteriously die in the dead of the night.
And now, three hours of my life have been wasted.
T-Mobile. I hate you.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Although not so much that, as a confirmation number for that, as it doesn't come out until next week.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
So far this is what I have.
1. Range Rover. Preferably Sport. Preferably blue. Preferably with tan leather. Must have a DVD player.
2. Golf Cart. I don't play golf. Nobody in our family plays golf. I just want it to go to the bus stop. And pool. And to the Easter Egg Hunt in two Saturdays cause the website says, "Please take your golf cart, parking is limited." See totally need it.
3. ipad. Comes out April 3rd. I'll take a raincheck.
4. Money for clothes. Although, let's be real. I'll spend money on clothes whether or not he gives me money.
5. Photoshop Elements. Although, this requires me also taking the computer in for some work. But, just think of all of those pictures waiting on me to play with them.
That's all I got. Somehow, I don't think I am getting the Range Rover.
What would you ask for, if you were me? This is where I look conversational, but am really just trying to steal your ideas.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Apparently, Emmi got exactly one thing from that. Fat = UNHEALTHY.
After a long day and night before of cake baking and birthday partying, I was not about to cook. And I was starving. Kenny and I had shoved breakfast tacos in our faces between the mopping, vacuuming, and cake icing prior to the party. At 5:45, I made the executive decision that we were going out for Chinese. At the restaurant right outside our neighborhood whose parking lot is littered with cars bearing our neighborhood entrance sticker. By the end of dinner our neighbor two doors down sat one table over and our across the street neighbor sat two tables over. And we were the only people in there. My point? We know everyone who eats there. You see them at the country club later in the week or walking the dog.
When we first arrived there was exactly one other person eating in the restaurant. She sat at a table directly across from us, eating alone. I didn't recognize her, but the only other car in the parking displayed the reflection of the moon sticker I know so well. As we settled into our seats, she chatted with us about how cute our kids were and such.
The waitress handed her a fortune cookie and her check. She cracked open the cookie. No fortune. She turned to us, "What do you suppose that means?!"
The waitress called across the nearly empty restaurant, "I heard that was supposed to be good luck."
We all laughed.
Emmi had been watching, evaluating the whole situation. Listening. Finally she piped up.
"SHE IS SO FAT! SHE IS UNHEALTHY! Right, Mommy? Right?!"
I am pretty sure right then, that empty cookie was not good luck.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
You decided this year your hair would be long. A first. You normally wear it short. I think this change came about, because you now wear your processors over the ear. Speaking of ears, you got your ears pierced. It was what you asked for for your birthday. Along with Lanie, the American Girl doll of the year, and a scooter. All of which you got. You wanted a rainbow cake. I think you would have been happy with a cake with a rainbow on it, but we all know Mommy can't just leave it at that. So you got a rainbow cake. Six layers. Homemade icing. Nine batches of icing. And I still did not have enough.
Pretty much, I would do anything for you. Even stay up all night baking a rainbow cake.
I still can't believe you are six, Ems. Happy Birthday Little E. I hope this next year is everything you wished for.
Friday, March 12, 2010
And I lived. With all of my hair still on my head.
I know. I know. People do this kind of thing all the time. Some moms even have, like, a bajillion kids and take them places. All by themselves.
But they don't have my kids.
Let's start with Emmi. Until very recently, her communication skills were far behind her age level. But her cognitive skills weren't. Meaning, she could wander through a store, see a pink shirt that she thought would look fabulous with a bright green skirt if only she could get some blue socks to go along with it all, and yell something along the lines of "PINK GREEN SOCK!" So I would furiously try to find some pink and green socks, and be completely dismayed when she hated the pink and green socks I produced. Then the pantomiming and wild guessing would begin. "You want socks? Not these socks? Pink socks? No? But socks? Point to the socks, Emmi. Point! Okay? Blue socks? So you wanted socks that weren't pink and green? You like pink? You hate green?" And inevitably we would leave with blue socks, nothing else, a pissed off kid, and a near tears mommy.
Meanwhile, Jill was standing in the corner rocking back and forth screaming because it was too loud or too bright or too smelly in the store and the tag in her shirt had suddenly started to bother her and someone accidentally bumped into her and her left shoe is too tight and she HATES me BECAUSE I AM THE WORSTEST MOMMY EVER because I was trying to buy her new clothes that have too many colors on them.
And then I would have to ride home with them.
It was good fun times.
But then Emmi started talking. Really talking. I would say it is the years of therapy that finally kicked in, but I am actually going to go with replacing the faulty cochlear implant that did it. It is amazing what actually being able to hear will do for ones ability to speak. On a side note, the more she is talking, the more she is signing too. I thought she would lose interest, which was a bit sad. But, she actually wants to learn more. So now when she wants a pink shirt and a green skirt with blue socks, she can say, "I like that pink shirt and that green skirt, but can we get blue socks with it?" Albeit, she says it in the cutest little voice EVER.
And then, finally, someone figured out that Jill is NOT bipolar and doesn't have ADHD nor am I just a bad parent or out of sync with my child. Nope. She has a neurological disorder that went undiagnosed for over eight years. Mostly because she hid the physical symptoms very well. Another side note, her formal evaluation came back yesterday. I was expected a her to be lagging a bit here and there. She was FOUR YEARS behind developmentally on some physical aspects. FOUR YEARS. She is just smart and compensates well. And now she can do things like go out in public and wear clothes and such. So we went shopping, followed the OT's orders, and Jill left smiling. Smiling! With new clothes! And new shoes. Oh, good gravy, she was the cutest thing this morning.
And our house is full of rainbows and sunshine. And maybe even unicorns today. Because yesterday might have been the best day ever.
And who of you childless people wants children now after reading that? Because if you didn't get, let me make it more clear. It took SIX YEARS for me to take both of my kids out shopping and to eat without backup. Six. Years.