I get very few comments on my blog. I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. I understand you are all so heavily consumed, paralyzed even, with laughter after reading a post that your fingers are not only unable to type, they can't even find the keyboard. This is okay with me. I sympathize with your sudden lack of motor control.
So, here's your chance! If you read this blog, even if you've only read it once, please add a comment to this post just letting me know you're here. That's it! You're under no contractual obligations to ever comment again, unless of course I become super famous from the fabulousness of this blog, at which point I will require your unwavering praise to continue access to my pullitzer-worthy masterpiece!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
R-A-T Spells . . .
Well, I’ve discovered a new problem with rats. I didn’t know they could be more aggravating and disgusting than they already are. Apparently, they can chew threw the wires in your car causing extensive and costly damage. Dana and I had heard “something” in our attic for a little while during the winter. We suspected it was some animal who came in to keep warm. Neither one of us really wanted to go into the attic to discover what it was, and we were hoping it would just go away. (Man, we are bad lesbians; at least one of us should be handy and not mind rodents or bugs.) Plus, I hate dealing with traps b/c of the after effect, and we were reluctant to put out poison b/c of the kids and Zoe, and b/c if the rat died somewhere in the house/attic, the stench would have been awful. (We had this when some suspected field mice died in our walls in Wisconsin.) But, we stopped hearing the noises, and never saw any signs of rodents inside the house, so we assumed all was well. After all, rats, sadly, aren’t uncommon in TX, even if your place is spotless (not that our house is spotless, but still, it’s not rat-infested filth). When we went through our garage last week for our garage sale, we noticed several rat droppings, so we had solved the mystery. However, the weather had warmed, and attics and garages get hot quickly, so we assumed our rodent problem had left. Then, a couple days ago we had a “cold” snap, and it appears it has returned.
I went to take Beckett to school today, and the check engine light was on. This didn’t really alarm me, b/c it comes on if I’ve refueled within a week and the weather has abruptly changed in temperature (both of which had happened). This is reportedly “normal.” (side note: the dealership mechanics seem totally unconcerned by this occurrence, despite the manual stating in BOLD ‘do not drive the car.’) But, the “D” for “drive” was also flashing, and I was having trouble accelerating from stop. A quick check with the manual said I could have a transmission problem. So, I drop Beckett of at school, which is on the way to the dealership, then head off to Honda. I figure they’ll tell me it’s some weird malfunctioning warning light thing again. But, no, the guy’s like “uh, we need you to turn off your car,” and they run a diagnostic check. An hour later, clearly with the wrong son at a place full of cars (though, truly, Kyler had a lot of fun playing with the bead toy, playing peek-a-boo with the salesman, who were doing anything but selling cars, and pouring bottled water all over himself and the carpet (nice way to learn he’s developed the skill of unscrewing bottle caps), plus, I got to read up on who might win the presidential election and how the fundamentals of our economy are strong and big sales are expected for Christmas to solve all the problems.
So, after an hour or so, the service rep comes to get me, and says I have a serious problem. It has to do with the R-A-T. Yeah, he spells it out, so I’m thinking he’s giving me an acronym for some car part I’ve never heard of. I say, “R-A-T? Oh, you mean rat!?” “Yes, you had a rat in your engine. I was going to take a picture for you, but I thought I’d just let you look at it yourself.” I’m not sure why he first thought to snap a photo, as I was right inside. Whatever. I’m expecting to see a dead rat melted to my engine block or something horrific like that. But, no, instead I see chewed wires. Almost completely gnawed through so that just a few little copper strands of wire are connecting some kind of wiring contraption to my transmission (yeah, I didn’t just know they connected to the transmission; they had to point that out.) The guy says, “You’d be surprised how often this happens. Several times a month. Do you live in a rural area?” “No. I live here, in the city. The car stays in the garage.” “Oooh, you should get some traps.” Great advice.
Well, as ‘car engine mistaken for rat food’ is not covered under warranty (and why not, I ask? Shouldn’t Honda in some way be liable for manufacturing engine parts that taste yummy to rodents? I mean, seriously, didn’t they see this coming?), I’m told to file an insurance claim. The estimated cost to repair this entire wiring block that runs the transmission is $1300. Because of one *&%#$ rat!! If I’d had even the slightest suspicion that the annoying sounds we heard in our attic could end up costing us $1300 in car repairs, I would have just mustered the courage to lay out some traps. (But, the mechanic said it looked like the chewing was recent, as there are no signs of corrosion. So, it probably happened in the past 2 days when I didn’t drive the van.)
Now we just have to wait for the insurance adjuster to get herself out to the dealership to finish the claim. I’m told she’ll be out there between now and next Wednesday, so it’s good to know they work like the cable company. Meanwhile, the dealership loaned us an Accord that’s oddly the same size as Dana’s Civic.
I went to take Beckett to school today, and the check engine light was on. This didn’t really alarm me, b/c it comes on if I’ve refueled within a week and the weather has abruptly changed in temperature (both of which had happened). This is reportedly “normal.” (side note: the dealership mechanics seem totally unconcerned by this occurrence, despite the manual stating in BOLD ‘do not drive the car.’) But, the “D” for “drive” was also flashing, and I was having trouble accelerating from stop. A quick check with the manual said I could have a transmission problem. So, I drop Beckett of at school, which is on the way to the dealership, then head off to Honda. I figure they’ll tell me it’s some weird malfunctioning warning light thing again. But, no, the guy’s like “uh, we need you to turn off your car,” and they run a diagnostic check. An hour later, clearly with the wrong son at a place full of cars (though, truly, Kyler had a lot of fun playing with the bead toy, playing peek-a-boo with the salesman, who were doing anything but selling cars, and pouring bottled water all over himself and the carpet (nice way to learn he’s developed the skill of unscrewing bottle caps), plus, I got to read up on who might win the presidential election and how the fundamentals of our economy are strong and big sales are expected for Christmas to solve all the problems.
So, after an hour or so, the service rep comes to get me, and says I have a serious problem. It has to do with the R-A-T. Yeah, he spells it out, so I’m thinking he’s giving me an acronym for some car part I’ve never heard of. I say, “R-A-T? Oh, you mean rat!?” “Yes, you had a rat in your engine. I was going to take a picture for you, but I thought I’d just let you look at it yourself.” I’m not sure why he first thought to snap a photo, as I was right inside. Whatever. I’m expecting to see a dead rat melted to my engine block or something horrific like that. But, no, instead I see chewed wires. Almost completely gnawed through so that just a few little copper strands of wire are connecting some kind of wiring contraption to my transmission (yeah, I didn’t just know they connected to the transmission; they had to point that out.) The guy says, “You’d be surprised how often this happens. Several times a month. Do you live in a rural area?” “No. I live here, in the city. The car stays in the garage.” “Oooh, you should get some traps.” Great advice.
Well, as ‘car engine mistaken for rat food’ is not covered under warranty (and why not, I ask? Shouldn’t Honda in some way be liable for manufacturing engine parts that taste yummy to rodents? I mean, seriously, didn’t they see this coming?), I’m told to file an insurance claim. The estimated cost to repair this entire wiring block that runs the transmission is $1300. Because of one *&%#$ rat!! If I’d had even the slightest suspicion that the annoying sounds we heard in our attic could end up costing us $1300 in car repairs, I would have just mustered the courage to lay out some traps. (But, the mechanic said it looked like the chewing was recent, as there are no signs of corrosion. So, it probably happened in the past 2 days when I didn’t drive the van.)
Now we just have to wait for the insurance adjuster to get herself out to the dealership to finish the claim. I’m told she’ll be out there between now and next Wednesday, so it’s good to know they work like the cable company. Meanwhile, the dealership loaned us an Accord that’s oddly the same size as Dana’s Civic.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tea Party
It must be mentioned. . .I have not blogged in FOREVER. Sorry for that. Really, I am. I'll try to be better. Please believe me. I promise (cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle. . .well, you get the point).
Today, I asked Beckett where something was. The "something" that seemed so critical at the time has inexplicably escaped my mind at the moment. But, trust me, it was something of significant importance (And, remember, I'm trustworthy. I just you made that promise above, afterall.)
Anyways, Beckett told me it was on the table. "Which table?" I asked. "The table in the living room," he answered. "Okay, but which table in the living room? We have four." (Yeah, our living room is SO huge it's sheer vastness prevents me from determining which table this excruciatingly crucial 'something' is sitting on. Really, it's that I'm trying to teach Beckett to be more specific about things and what-not. Teach by example. That's my mantra.) "Mama, it's on the tea table," he declares. "The tea table? What's a tea table?" "Ugh!" He's fed up with me now. "The round table on the rug in the living room!" I know he's thinking, 'man, is my mom dense!' "Do you mean the coffee table?" I ask. "Why would it be a coffee table?" Beckett questions. "There's a teapot on it." Touche
Today, I asked Beckett where something was. The "something" that seemed so critical at the time has inexplicably escaped my mind at the moment. But, trust me, it was something of significant importance (And, remember, I'm trustworthy. I just you made that promise above, afterall.)
Anyways, Beckett told me it was on the table. "Which table?" I asked. "The table in the living room," he answered. "Okay, but which table in the living room? We have four." (Yeah, our living room is SO huge it's sheer vastness prevents me from determining which table this excruciatingly crucial 'something' is sitting on. Really, it's that I'm trying to teach Beckett to be more specific about things and what-not. Teach by example. That's my mantra.) "Mama, it's on the tea table," he declares. "The tea table? What's a tea table?" "Ugh!" He's fed up with me now. "The round table on the rug in the living room!" I know he's thinking, 'man, is my mom dense!' "Do you mean the coffee table?" I ask. "Why would it be a coffee table?" Beckett questions. "There's a teapot on it." Touche
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Ice Screams
UPDATE: I wrote this post a week ago but forgot to publish it.
Yesterday we had an "ice storm" and school was cancelled. Dana's office opened 2 hours late and the entire city she works in was shut down until noon. To someone who lived in Wisconsin for almost a decade, this struck me as quite funny. Now, if you're keeping track, I was born and raised in Dallas, so I understand the rare cosmic event that freezing weather is for this neck of the woods. What I don't understand is the mass hysteria it creates and why the city can't prepare or react more efficiently. Now, I'm fully aware that our highway system is essentially a system of open-air bridges which are not commonly built in the North. So, our infrastructure presents a unique hazard in freezing weather. But they still can't seem to take care of the ground-level roads well. We use sand here instead of salt, and I've never been given a good explanation why. Perhaps sand is cheaper, but I've been unable to find numbers showing this. I'm told sand provides better traction, but it doesn't melt the ice. Because of this, the city won't lay sand until after the ice hits, so there's no road preparation for the storm they knew was coming for 2 days. Realizing the sand was doing little good at preventing the hundreds of ice-induced traffic accidents, the city switched to a chemical de-icer later in the day. Now, this has to be more costly than regular old salt. And quite honestly, the "storm" was really a thin sheet of ice covering the roads and making the grass crunchy. By noon, the ice had starting melting from the roof and by 4pm our driveway was no longer our own private skating rink, and the temperature was 45.
So, around noon I decided to go out b/c I figured the stores would be empty. That, and we desperately needed a refill on our asthma inhalers. So, to Target I went. It was fairly empty. People looked at me weirdly for going sans coat, despite the the sweats I was wearing. I mean, it was 45. I picked up the prescription and proceeded to wander the aisles of Target, making a mental list of wants and needs when I had some "disposable" income. When that will be exactly, I'm not quite sure. I really love Target. Anyways, we spent a decent amount of time in the toy car aisle, where Beckett and a man his late 20s looked at cool Hot Wheel cars. I guess I should get used to this vehicle fascination because it seems like it'll never end (if the 20-something guy was any indication). When we finally left the aisle, Beckett screamed that he wanted to go to the train aisle. Now, it was a simple request that would have been easily accommodated. But, the delivery of the request was less than ideal and was not to be rewarded. So, I said "no," which prompted a "cart tantrum" by Beckett. I let it continue as I wandered the aisels I wanted to look at it. Eventually, I mentioned to Beckett that if he just asked me nicely I would have said yes. This followed, "Mama, can we please look at the trains?" in the sweetest little voice you ever did hear. When I turned the corner, there was a woman standing there laughing. She said it was the funniest thing she'd heard all day. She had heard his entire tantrum (and, really, how couldn't you?) and the drastic change of voice. I'm glad she liked my little comedian. We'll see if she still finds it funny after listening to the same "joke" 10 times a day! Once, when Beckett threw a tantrum at the grocery store because I didn't select the "right" shopping cart, the nice old women pointed at that, even though he threw a knock-down, screaming fit up and down every aisle, he consistently said "please." He was loud and defiant, but he was still polite. I never thought of it that way. It gives me a silver lining!
Yesterday we had an "ice storm" and school was cancelled. Dana's office opened 2 hours late and the entire city she works in was shut down until noon. To someone who lived in Wisconsin for almost a decade, this struck me as quite funny. Now, if you're keeping track, I was born and raised in Dallas, so I understand the rare cosmic event that freezing weather is for this neck of the woods. What I don't understand is the mass hysteria it creates and why the city can't prepare or react more efficiently. Now, I'm fully aware that our highway system is essentially a system of open-air bridges which are not commonly built in the North. So, our infrastructure presents a unique hazard in freezing weather. But they still can't seem to take care of the ground-level roads well. We use sand here instead of salt, and I've never been given a good explanation why. Perhaps sand is cheaper, but I've been unable to find numbers showing this. I'm told sand provides better traction, but it doesn't melt the ice. Because of this, the city won't lay sand until after the ice hits, so there's no road preparation for the storm they knew was coming for 2 days. Realizing the sand was doing little good at preventing the hundreds of ice-induced traffic accidents, the city switched to a chemical de-icer later in the day. Now, this has to be more costly than regular old salt. And quite honestly, the "storm" was really a thin sheet of ice covering the roads and making the grass crunchy. By noon, the ice had starting melting from the roof and by 4pm our driveway was no longer our own private skating rink, and the temperature was 45.
So, around noon I decided to go out b/c I figured the stores would be empty. That, and we desperately needed a refill on our asthma inhalers. So, to Target I went. It was fairly empty. People looked at me weirdly for going sans coat, despite the the sweats I was wearing. I mean, it was 45. I picked up the prescription and proceeded to wander the aisles of Target, making a mental list of wants and needs when I had some "disposable" income. When that will be exactly, I'm not quite sure. I really love Target. Anyways, we spent a decent amount of time in the toy car aisle, where Beckett and a man his late 20s looked at cool Hot Wheel cars. I guess I should get used to this vehicle fascination because it seems like it'll never end (if the 20-something guy was any indication). When we finally left the aisle, Beckett screamed that he wanted to go to the train aisle. Now, it was a simple request that would have been easily accommodated. But, the delivery of the request was less than ideal and was not to be rewarded. So, I said "no," which prompted a "cart tantrum" by Beckett. I let it continue as I wandered the aisels I wanted to look at it. Eventually, I mentioned to Beckett that if he just asked me nicely I would have said yes. This followed, "Mama, can we please look at the trains?" in the sweetest little voice you ever did hear. When I turned the corner, there was a woman standing there laughing. She said it was the funniest thing she'd heard all day. She had heard his entire tantrum (and, really, how couldn't you?) and the drastic change of voice. I'm glad she liked my little comedian. We'll see if she still finds it funny after listening to the same "joke" 10 times a day! Once, when Beckett threw a tantrum at the grocery store because I didn't select the "right" shopping cart, the nice old women pointed at that, even though he threw a knock-down, screaming fit up and down every aisle, he consistently said "please." He was loud and defiant, but he was still polite. I never thought of it that way. It gives me a silver lining!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Helpless
Last week, I emailed Proctor and Gamble to ask if they had plans to make one of their HE detergents in a particular scent that currently is only available in the standard detergent. I also mentioned that I thought the current available scent would be more aptly named 'revolting rain' instead of 'renewing rain,' as it added such a stench to our clothes that they are hard to wear. This is what they had to say:
We love to hear suggestions about improving our products or creating new ones; your comments help us decide what we'll do in the future. Be assured, I'm sharing them with the apropriate people in our company.
If you want compensation for an idea, it's important to know P&G can't accept an idea for consideration without a patent or a patent application. Once an idea is patented, the only way to submit it for review is through Connect & Develop on the home page of our website, pg.com. Just click on the Connect & Develop icon near the middle of the page, then Submit Your Innovation.
Hope this is helpful.
P&G Team
No, P&G Team, this was not helpful in the least. I hope the "apropriate people" actually read the email I take the time to write and maybe find it within themselves to answer my question "apropriately." Oh, and I hope they know how to spell "apropriate."
We love to hear suggestions about improving our products or creating new ones; your comments help us decide what we'll do in the future. Be assured, I'm sharing them with the apropriate people in our company.
If you want compensation for an idea, it's important to know P&G can't accept an idea for consideration without a patent or a patent application. Once an idea is patented, the only way to submit it for review is through Connect & Develop on the home page of our website, pg.com. Just click on the Connect & Develop icon near the middle of the page, then Submit Your Innovation.
Hope this is helpful.
P&G Team
No, P&G Team, this was not helpful in the least. I hope the "apropriate people" actually read the email I take the time to write and maybe find it within themselves to answer my question "apropriately." Oh, and I hope they know how to spell "apropriate."
Monday, January 26, 2009
Oates-meal
Pediatrician update: We have found a new pediatrician! He accepts our insurance and he he's on Dallas' top docs list. And, most importantly, he has a huge aquarium and a train in his waiting room. Thank you to the parents of a little girl in Beckett's class for the recommendation!! We've only seen him once, but I liked him much better than the other dr. He agreed that putting tubes in Kyler's ears after only 3 ear infections was unnecessary and too aggressive a treatment. And, he didn't scold me or my children or tell me what other parents are doing wrong. Who thought those would be characteristics we'd look for?
Today, while driving back to the grocery store (yes, I said back. i was one of "those people" who shop and check out only to discover all their payment methods are at home. And to top it off, it was a nightmare shopping trip. We're under a "winter weather advisory," which means it might drop below freezing for half a second. This means every Dallasite must rush to the grocery store to stock up on food for fear they'll be holed up inside their homes. This is not the reason I was there. Monday is my weekly shopping day. If I could have pushed it back a day, I would have, but the kids can't live on rice cakes and honey forever.), I was jammin' to Hall & Oates "Kiss on my List" (only I sang "kiss on my lips" b/c, even though I know it's wrong, that's how I originally sang it, and it's just stuck with me), having a good ol' time while the boys snoozed away in their carseats. Then I remembered a joke I heard on Chelsea Lately the other night about an ambush makeover on the Today show. A mom whose kids were too embarrassed to be seen with her got a great makeover. When her new look was revealed, the kids (all girls of course) were screaming so loudly you couldn't hear Kathie Lee or Hota (now, is that a bad thing, I ask?). Chelsea's joke was that 'yeah, girls, Mom looks cool now, but she's still driving you home in a minivan blasting out Hall & Oates.' I quickly changed the station.
All in all, it really was a good shopping trip. I was able to get $132 of groceries for just $50.54 after coupons and sales, going just $.54 over our weekly grocery budget! And to top it off, the foundation repair guy said the lengthening crack in our hallway is not a result of foundation damage but just signs of the house shifting and the pressure from the a/c duct directly above it. So, I saved roughly $2082 today! (i'm just estimating on the foundation repair cost) I also discovered his (the foundation dude) father-in-law was the chief engineer to design the logistics of building indoor water parks in Wisconsin Dells. Because of him, Midwestern kids can simultaneously shoot down a water slide while watching the snow fall.
Today, while driving back to the grocery store (yes, I said back. i was one of "those people" who shop and check out only to discover all their payment methods are at home. And to top it off, it was a nightmare shopping trip. We're under a "winter weather advisory," which means it might drop below freezing for half a second. This means every Dallasite must rush to the grocery store to stock up on food for fear they'll be holed up inside their homes. This is not the reason I was there. Monday is my weekly shopping day. If I could have pushed it back a day, I would have, but the kids can't live on rice cakes and honey forever.), I was jammin' to Hall & Oates "Kiss on my List" (only I sang "kiss on my lips" b/c, even though I know it's wrong, that's how I originally sang it, and it's just stuck with me), having a good ol' time while the boys snoozed away in their carseats. Then I remembered a joke I heard on Chelsea Lately the other night about an ambush makeover on the Today show. A mom whose kids were too embarrassed to be seen with her got a great makeover. When her new look was revealed, the kids (all girls of course) were screaming so loudly you couldn't hear Kathie Lee or Hota (now, is that a bad thing, I ask?). Chelsea's joke was that 'yeah, girls, Mom looks cool now, but she's still driving you home in a minivan blasting out Hall & Oates.' I quickly changed the station.
All in all, it really was a good shopping trip. I was able to get $132 of groceries for just $50.54 after coupons and sales, going just $.54 over our weekly grocery budget! And to top it off, the foundation repair guy said the lengthening crack in our hallway is not a result of foundation damage but just signs of the house shifting and the pressure from the a/c duct directly above it. So, I saved roughly $2082 today! (i'm just estimating on the foundation repair cost) I also discovered his (the foundation dude) father-in-law was the chief engineer to design the logistics of building indoor water parks in Wisconsin Dells. Because of him, Midwestern kids can simultaneously shoot down a water slide while watching the snow fall.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Random Musings
Soon I will post something more reflective about the start of the new year and the changes we're making and our goals for the boys (and us), but not today. No, today is more of a buffet post, a samper platter, if you will, of several, somewhat unrelated bits of stuff that don't comprise enough for a full post. But, they're still worth writing about.
- On how technology is changing childhood: I suspect I never picked up a pocket calculator and proceeded to talk on it and then used it to snap a quick picture, declaring "Cheese!". Or, if I did, I'm sure my parents thought my behavior bizarre. When Kyler does this, I think, "He's a genius! He can use a cell phone!"
- On the constitution of syle: I have a large 3-ring binder I use as a household organizer. It's covered in a beige fabric with a chocolate damask print. It's pretty. Beckett looked at it the other day and said, "Wow, Mama, that's beautiful!" I said, "You have style, my man." His response, "BURP!".
- On bathroom privacy: Every parent will tell you bathroom privacy ends once you have kids. Before they're mobile, you bring them into the bathroom with you because you're scared they'll feel abandoned or, at your the most desperate, you just don't to hear them scream. Once they're crawling, you bring them with you so they don't crawl somewhere they shouldn't, like over to that potted plant that's been waiting all day to have its dirt scooped onto the floor. One would expect this practice to end at some point in adolescence, yet I distinctly remember my mom demanding my sister, brother, and I PLEASE leave the bathroom so she could pee in private. We were each much too old for this to be an acceptable practice, but, yet, so accustomed to being there it didn't seem weird. To this day, my mom still leaves the bathroom door open. Now it's a little weird. Old habits die hard. Well, a few days ago, Kyler was pointing out my body parts as I was going to the bathroom - knee, leg, flower (my tatoo on my upper right thigh), hair. Then, he brought me the hair dryer and said, "On." I guess I'm glad he didn't bring a comb. Too many inappropriate puns to mention!
- On Christmas Trees: When I first moved to Wisconsin, I referred to all evergreens as Christmas trees. It struck me as odd that people had Christmas trees planted in their front yards. Now, I understood that such trees where first used as, well, plants, long before people started bringing them indoors, stringing them with lights, and hanging shining baubles on them. But, to a girl from Texas where evergreens don't really grow, every pine or fir tree said "Christmas" to me. I have, apparently, passed on this belief to Kyler. As we were taking a walk through our neighborhood, we happened upon an evergreen in someone's front yard (they do exist as landscaping here, they're just rare). He tugged at a branch and asked, "On?" Because all evergreen trees are Christmas trees, and thus, must have glowing lights on them.
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