O's new Pad.
He loves it.
That makes me smile.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
I don't even know what to say, other than: F@#K!
I am angry.
I want to throw myself on the floor and have a fit.
That kind of angry.
I ended up in the ER on Saturday morning at 3 am with abdominal pain so bad it made me cry/unable to breathe.
As it had been going on for a week in earnest, I finally relented and went to the ER.
Found out I had gallstones.
The ER referred my to my primary care physician.
[He's technically my MIL's considering I don't have insurance, but I see him when it's urgent]
After talking to him about my current symptoms and the on-going ones I've had for the last year (but kept rationalizing in my head as not a big deal-in my defense, so did others, making me doubt their severity), he told me that I needed to go see not one, not Two, but THREE different specialists.
[A Gastrointerologist, a Urologist, and a Surgeon. Kinda like the nursery rhyme, but more college]
FML.
I won't go into all of it until I have concrete info, but he definitely thinks I need my gall bladder removed, could need bladder surgery, and he thinks I may also have ulcerative colitis or Chrohn's disease.
Hubs is afraid it's Cancer.
{I doubt it.}
He shouldn't be allowed on WebMD anymore.
Sooo, as mentioned before, I'm pissed.
I keep waiting for some good luck to befall us, or for all of our perseverance to finally pay off, and instead, we get more crap to deal with.
I have NO idea how we're going to pay for this.
I will be spending the next week on the phone calling everywhere I can think of to try and get some assistance.
I don't qualify for MediCal, no one will insure me, and the high-risk pools have long waiting lists with even longer price tags, so I've gotta do some digging to see what else is out there. There's gotta be a way to make this cheaper. If not, I suppose there's always bankruptcy....yeeeesh.
Either way, I've gotta start taking care of this ASAP so it doesn't get worse.
My biggest fear in this mess (besides bankruptcy and/or destitution)?
1. I'll go thru all the tests and pay all this money to find out that it's somehow NOTHING
OR,
2. I'll go thru all the tests and it will be Cancer.
[Personally, if I had to pick, I'm shooting for Door #1.]
I want to throw myself on the floor and have a fit.
That kind of angry.
I ended up in the ER on Saturday morning at 3 am with abdominal pain so bad it made me cry/unable to breathe.
As it had been going on for a week in earnest, I finally relented and went to the ER.
Found out I had gallstones.
The ER referred my to my primary care physician.
[He's technically my MIL's considering I don't have insurance, but I see him when it's urgent]
After talking to him about my current symptoms and the on-going ones I've had for the last year (but kept rationalizing in my head as not a big deal-in my defense, so did others, making me doubt their severity), he told me that I needed to go see not one, not Two, but THREE different specialists.
[A Gastrointerologist, a Urologist, and a Surgeon. Kinda like the nursery rhyme, but more college]
FML.
I won't go into all of it until I have concrete info, but he definitely thinks I need my gall bladder removed, could need bladder surgery, and he thinks I may also have ulcerative colitis or Chrohn's disease.
Hubs is afraid it's Cancer.
{I doubt it.}
He shouldn't be allowed on WebMD anymore.
Sooo, as mentioned before, I'm pissed.
I keep waiting for some good luck to befall us, or for all of our perseverance to finally pay off, and instead, we get more crap to deal with.
I have NO idea how we're going to pay for this.
I will be spending the next week on the phone calling everywhere I can think of to try and get some assistance.
I don't qualify for MediCal, no one will insure me, and the high-risk pools have long waiting lists with even longer price tags, so I've gotta do some digging to see what else is out there. There's gotta be a way to make this cheaper. If not, I suppose there's always bankruptcy....yeeeesh.
Either way, I've gotta start taking care of this ASAP so it doesn't get worse.
My biggest fear in this mess (besides bankruptcy and/or destitution)?
1. I'll go thru all the tests and pay all this money to find out that it's somehow NOTHING
OR,
2. I'll go thru all the tests and it will be Cancer.
[Personally, if I had to pick, I'm shooting for Door #1.]
Monday, September 20, 2010
Well, we're back and stuff.
We're back! Thank GAWWWD.
The trip was a stressOrama moneypit. It was also soul-crushingly depressing for the Hubs and I, BUUUUT WAIT!
It did have its high points FO SHO:
1. O did AMAZINGLY FANTASTIC on both the trip there, and the trip home. He had a couple cranky moments, but nothing major, and Delta airlines just thinks he's a peach. I am one proud Mama. Seriously, I think Hubben and I were crankier than he was.
2. Seeing my Hub's family (we hadn't seen most of them in 3 years, and who knows when we will again?, and we always enjoy our time with them.
3. O meeting those family members.
4. Hub's grandfather's 80th surprise party (after months of planning and stress for my MIL, it went swimmingly).
5. O's christening (he was HANDS DOWN the best-behaved child I've ever seen in a church-I'm not saying that b/c he's mine, either.) was beautiful.
All of that was swell. Warm and Fuzzies all around!
Being stuck without a rental car, Hubs not really having time to look for work/interview (which was why he took an unpaid week off of work) and the amount of money that flew out of of savings account [read: almost ALL] was not. Neither was my body's decision to revolt-making me feel like crap the whole time...My period coming a week early was an especially nice touch.
That could all be overlooked as the perils of traveling, I know.
The knife in our backs was really staying at my Hubby's grandmother's house.
(The house has sat empty for almost 2 years-his Grams now lives in a nursing home)
Why?
Because it was the house we would have moved into if Husbandface had gotten the job.
The house that we spent hours decorating in our minds and making plans for the future. We even talked about having another baby if it happened.
(In hindsight, not the best idea, but we were attempting to be hopeful.)
I think we were both taken aback at how hard it all sort of kicked us in the teeth as we arrived, and kinda hung over us like a shadow the whole week we were there.
We just felt even more stuck. Even farther from where we want so badly to be, if that makes sense...
And I realize that I should have just let.it.GO. but I couldn't stop worrying about money. We absolutely had no business taking a trip (albeit a mandatory one) for a DAY let alone, a WEEK, so I was wracked with panic over it the majority of the trip. I don't think it helped that my darling Hubben was also freaking out over the fact that our plan of him hitting the pavement with a vengeance every day that week to look for jobs/interview pretty much fell flat on its proverbial ass, and there wasn't jack we could do about it.
Did I mention that the Man and I spent that week sleeping on a full-sized bed when we're used to our king? Yeah....
But, we got thru it, and managed to fly home safely with our son (and our marriage) intact.
However, coming back home was rough.
It was like leaving the field utterly defeated.
We walked back through the doors of my IL's house totally broke, having made NO progress while in WV.
Yes, we knew as we left that THAT may be the outcome, but we were trying once again, to be positive.
As for our plan forward, we don't really know. We need a miracle. I've been campaigning for one since I got pregnant with O, so maybe we'll get it eventually.
And before anyone pipes up to tell me how fortunate I already AM, I know.
We are extremely grateful that my husband's parent's have opened their home to us, and even more grateful that through the last few years at least one of us was able to keep his job. We are so thankful for what we have because we know that it could be worse.
That being said, we need to get out on our own. The living with his parents situation is NOT a forever deal. We knew that coming into it, and we've already been here far longer than either party expected or wanted.
Even more pressing, we have a child that we want to give a home to. One that is our own.
Sigh.
On a lighter note,
For the sake of our sanity (and sex life), Hubs and I decided to turn our little "apt." into 2 distinct bedrooms.
You know what that means!
Baby has his OWN room!
It's so cute!
We seriously spent from 9am-12am putting it all together. We totally lucked out b/c friends of ours gave us a crib, and we already had a dresser for him (that we also use as a changing table). So all we needed to buy was a shelving unit for his toys, a crib mattress, some bedding, and some adorable wall decals for art.
Did I mention it looks really cute?!
'Cos it is.
I will add a picture next post.
It's definitely lifted our spirits to give O a nursery. we've been waiting to do that since we got pregnant.
Tonight will be the first night he sleeps in there!
Wish me luck...I'll probably cry more than he does.
The trip was a stressOrama moneypit. It was also soul-crushingly depressing for the Hubs and I, BUUUUT WAIT!
It did have its high points FO SHO:
1. O did AMAZINGLY FANTASTIC on both the trip there, and the trip home. He had a couple cranky moments, but nothing major, and Delta airlines just thinks he's a peach. I am one proud Mama. Seriously, I think Hubben and I were crankier than he was.
2. Seeing my Hub's family (we hadn't seen most of them in 3 years, and who knows when we will again?, and we always enjoy our time with them.
3. O meeting those family members.
4. Hub's grandfather's 80th surprise party (after months of planning and stress for my MIL, it went swimmingly).
5. O's christening (he was HANDS DOWN the best-behaved child I've ever seen in a church-I'm not saying that b/c he's mine, either.) was beautiful.
All of that was swell. Warm and Fuzzies all around!
Being stuck without a rental car, Hubs not really having time to look for work/interview (which was why he took an unpaid week off of work) and the amount of money that flew out of of savings account [read: almost ALL] was not. Neither was my body's decision to revolt-making me feel like crap the whole time...My period coming a week early was an especially nice touch.
That could all be overlooked as the perils of traveling, I know.
The knife in our backs was really staying at my Hubby's grandmother's house.
(The house has sat empty for almost 2 years-his Grams now lives in a nursing home)
Why?
Because it was the house we would have moved into if Husbandface had gotten the job.
The house that we spent hours decorating in our minds and making plans for the future. We even talked about having another baby if it happened.
(In hindsight, not the best idea, but we were attempting to be hopeful.)
I think we were both taken aback at how hard it all sort of kicked us in the teeth as we arrived, and kinda hung over us like a shadow the whole week we were there.
We just felt even more stuck. Even farther from where we want so badly to be, if that makes sense...
And I realize that I should have just let.it.GO. but I couldn't stop worrying about money. We absolutely had no business taking a trip (albeit a mandatory one) for a DAY let alone, a WEEK, so I was wracked with panic over it the majority of the trip. I don't think it helped that my darling Hubben was also freaking out over the fact that our plan of him hitting the pavement with a vengeance every day that week to look for jobs/interview pretty much fell flat on its proverbial ass, and there wasn't jack we could do about it.
Did I mention that the Man and I spent that week sleeping on a full-sized bed when we're used to our king? Yeah....
But, we got thru it, and managed to fly home safely with our son (and our marriage) intact.
However, coming back home was rough.
It was like leaving the field utterly defeated.
We walked back through the doors of my IL's house totally broke, having made NO progress while in WV.
Yes, we knew as we left that THAT may be the outcome, but we were trying once again, to be positive.
As for our plan forward, we don't really know. We need a miracle. I've been campaigning for one since I got pregnant with O, so maybe we'll get it eventually.
And before anyone pipes up to tell me how fortunate I already AM, I know.
We are extremely grateful that my husband's parent's have opened their home to us, and even more grateful that through the last few years at least one of us was able to keep his job. We are so thankful for what we have because we know that it could be worse.
That being said, we need to get out on our own. The living with his parents situation is NOT a forever deal. We knew that coming into it, and we've already been here far longer than either party expected or wanted.
Even more pressing, we have a child that we want to give a home to. One that is our own.
Sigh.
On a lighter note,
For the sake of our sanity (and sex life), Hubs and I decided to turn our little "apt." into 2 distinct bedrooms.
You know what that means!
Baby has his OWN room!
It's so cute!
We seriously spent from 9am-12am putting it all together. We totally lucked out b/c friends of ours gave us a crib, and we already had a dresser for him (that we also use as a changing table). So all we needed to buy was a shelving unit for his toys, a crib mattress, some bedding, and some adorable wall decals for art.
Did I mention it looks really cute?!
'Cos it is.
I will add a picture next post.
It's definitely lifted our spirits to give O a nursery. we've been waiting to do that since we got pregnant.
Tonight will be the first night he sleeps in there!
Wish me luck...I'll probably cry more than he does.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Oh, right. The baaaaaabbbbbby.
I'm gonna quit my bitchin' for a sec, and update you, my darling readers on what started this whole enterprise:
My son.
(Who as you can obviously tell, is AWESOME)
My little monkey is 10 months old, which kinda hurts my heart.
Yes, I want him to grow up and have a great life, but that means he's going to become a man...a hairy, stinky, sex-on-the-brain, MAN.
I have a hard time reconciling that. I mean, look at him! He's too cute for puberty!
Moving on...
He's crawling faster than I can walk (yes, I know that's not that HARD, harhar.), and he DESPERATELY wants to become bipedal.
[He's so close, I can taste the ER visits.]
Annnd? He's already climbing.
Homeboy can't walk yet, but he can climb? Lucky Me!
He's fiercely independent and stubborn. I have no idea where he gets it...ahem.
My Mommy-feelings often get hurt b/c he is perfectly happy playing by himself. Sure, he wants to know I'm near him, but when i try to horn in on his games, he looks at me as if to say: "Mommy, I'm having some ME time, right now."
[Uhhh, Sigh. I'll be over here, you know, if you want some company later, or somethin'....]
He's funny. He knows when he's doing something hysterical, and will give you a look like: "Eh? Eh? Funny, right?!"
He has the most expressive little face. He'll never be able to play poker...much like his mother. We can be read like books! BOOKS, I SAY!
He LOOOOOOOVES Sesame Street. He does a little jig as it's coming on. Mr. Noodle is his comic genius.
He's not quite talking yet (He says Mama, much to Dada's chagrin), but he babbles a ton, and gesticulates with his hands as he does it. It's all very Italian, really...
He studies everything. Turning it over and examining it from all angles.
He knows that remote makes the TV work, and that the Xbox controller makes figures move on the screen. He adores anything electronic.
Also? He loves him some ladies. He's a hardcore flirt.
[In short, he's a total dude.]
He's a music baby FO SHO. We listen to classical every morning, and classic punk in the afternoon.
He will wake up in the morning, stand up in his playard and hit all the buttons on the sound machine til music starts playing, and then sit back down and play.
Little man has these little drums that play music when you hit the tops, so he'll sit there w/them next to him while he's playing with another toy-using them as background music. When the music stops, He'll put down his toy, hit the drums, the music will start and he'll go back to what he was doing. Hilarious.
He's got 6 teethies and more on the way. He also has his Daddy's gapped front teeth....Orthodontia is in our future! WOO.
He hates eating solids, because he wants to feed himself. He hates sippy cups because he knows that they are not the same kind of cups Mommy and Daddy drink out of, so he's not having any of it. He'll only drink from MY cup. Period.
He hates bananas, applesauce, and juice of all kinds. What? Weird, right?
When he cries (which isn't a lot), his tone sounds like someone is killing his puppy (if he knew what a puppy was). Hubs and I joke that it's the hurting of his soul...seriously, though. It'll break your heart.
When he's mad (which is more frequent now that he's teething and trying to walk), he has an ADORABLE angry face.
[I don't think he appreciates it being called adorable, but whatever. He can bring that up in therapy a couple decades from now.]
In summation, he's kinda the coolest baby ever. I love him so much it sorta hurts.
Now, I have to start planning his 1st birthday party...
Now, that does hurt.
My son.
(Who as you can obviously tell, is AWESOME)
My little monkey is 10 months old, which kinda hurts my heart.
Yes, I want him to grow up and have a great life, but that means he's going to become a man...a hairy, stinky, sex-on-the-brain, MAN.
I have a hard time reconciling that. I mean, look at him! He's too cute for puberty!
Moving on...
He's crawling faster than I can walk (yes, I know that's not that HARD, harhar.), and he DESPERATELY wants to become bipedal.
[He's so close, I can taste the ER visits.]
Annnd? He's already climbing.
Homeboy can't walk yet, but he can climb? Lucky Me!
He's fiercely independent and stubborn. I have no idea where he gets it...ahem.
My Mommy-feelings often get hurt b/c he is perfectly happy playing by himself. Sure, he wants to know I'm near him, but when i try to horn in on his games, he looks at me as if to say: "Mommy, I'm having some ME time, right now."
[Uhhh, Sigh. I'll be over here, you know, if you want some company later, or somethin'....]
He's funny. He knows when he's doing something hysterical, and will give you a look like: "Eh? Eh? Funny, right?!"
He has the most expressive little face. He'll never be able to play poker...much like his mother. We can be read like books! BOOKS, I SAY!
He LOOOOOOOVES Sesame Street. He does a little jig as it's coming on. Mr. Noodle is his comic genius.
He's not quite talking yet (He says Mama, much to Dada's chagrin), but he babbles a ton, and gesticulates with his hands as he does it. It's all very Italian, really...
He studies everything. Turning it over and examining it from all angles.
He knows that remote makes the TV work, and that the Xbox controller makes figures move on the screen. He adores anything electronic.
Also? He loves him some ladies. He's a hardcore flirt.
[In short, he's a total dude.]
He's a music baby FO SHO. We listen to classical every morning, and classic punk in the afternoon.
He will wake up in the morning, stand up in his playard and hit all the buttons on the sound machine til music starts playing, and then sit back down and play.
Little man has these little drums that play music when you hit the tops, so he'll sit there w/them next to him while he's playing with another toy-using them as background music. When the music stops, He'll put down his toy, hit the drums, the music will start and he'll go back to what he was doing. Hilarious.
He's got 6 teethies and more on the way. He also has his Daddy's gapped front teeth....Orthodontia is in our future! WOO.
He hates eating solids, because he wants to feed himself. He hates sippy cups because he knows that they are not the same kind of cups Mommy and Daddy drink out of, so he's not having any of it. He'll only drink from MY cup. Period.
He hates bananas, applesauce, and juice of all kinds. What? Weird, right?
When he cries (which isn't a lot), his tone sounds like someone is killing his puppy (if he knew what a puppy was). Hubs and I joke that it's the hurting of his soul...seriously, though. It'll break your heart.
When he's mad (which is more frequent now that he's teething and trying to walk), he has an ADORABLE angry face.
[I don't think he appreciates it being called adorable, but whatever. He can bring that up in therapy a couple decades from now.]
In summation, he's kinda the coolest baby ever. I love him so much it sorta hurts.
Now, I have to start planning his 1st birthday party...
Now, that does hurt.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Yeah, I know. Lots to still be grateful for. Blah, Blah, BLAH.
So this month has been awesome.
In that "what ELSE can go wrong?" kinda way...
It started off on what could be mistaken for a positive trend, because after posting about the crash and burn of relocation, it seemed like we might actually see the sunshiney face of opportunity after all.
Ummm, yeah, we were wrong.
First there were the interviews for Hubs.
3 of them.
They required flying across the states and taking 2 days of of work (unpaid of course).
We'd just spent $800 dollars on much-needed glasses for ourselves (damn our poorly sighted eyeballs), so we couldn't really afford to go, but at the same time we couldn't really afford NOT to go.
Such is the game of Opportunity...
All seemed to be going well, until they moved the interview for the main job that he really wanted, so it became 3 days instead of 2.
But we persevered. Our savings, not so much....
First interview went swimmingly, but they told him upfront that he probably wouldn't be hired for that position because they felt he was a much better fit for the second position...
Peachy! That's the one he really wanted anyhow.
The second interview also went really well (although Husband initially thought he bombed it), and we were getting excited.
Picking-out-paint-colors-discussing-future-renos-on-a-house excited...
(Meanwhile, the third interview never happened, but it was meant to be more of a part-time gig, so we didn't feel too badly.)
A state job WITH Benes?? It was nothing but blues skiiiiiies for us, baby!
(Ohhh, how naive we were then...)
He flies home.
We hear nothing for 3 days. While we'd heard from a little birdie on the inside that they loved him, and were ready to hire him, we were panicking a little.
And with good reason. Despite the glowing reports and rumors of him being hired right away, they didn't hire him.
An eleventh hour interview by a former state employee with 6 years experience in that exact position had to darken our happy little doorstep.
They said all the things that employers say when you're not hired, and our little insider birdie assured us that it was all legit, and they really would keep him in mind for future openings, but told us frankly:
This is state work. Once someone gets in, they don't leave unless forced. We don't have a lot of turnover, so I can't say when/if we'll be hiring again.
Faaaaanfuckingtastic.
I don't want to begrudge anyone a job, especially in this economy, but coooooome ON.
I can't help but be a little bitter.
I can't even begin to explain how much we needed this. For a multitude of reasons.
On top of all of that, we also got denied for health insurance.
AGAIN.
Which is awesome, as I've been really sick, and been told repeatedly that I need to go see a specialist. But adding yet another pre-existing condition to the list of things they can deny me for? Yeah, that sounds terrific.
Don't even get me stared on paying out-of-pocket to just SEE the specialist...
The high-risk pools?
Holy Black Market Pricing, Batman!
You can't even get on the waiting list 'til October.
ANNND, they don't cover preventative care, just major medical. Like a gnarly car accident. Resulting in death.
If that didn't put a spring in our step, then getting our stroller jacked from Cheesecake Factory, did it for SURE.
Now, in all fairness, it was my fault. Sorta.
I'll explain:
O, MIL, her friend, and I all went to the mall. She had errands, I like air conditioning.
After work, Hubs met us for dinner.
Halfway through, O decides he's done for the day.
My spouse, being the gem that he is, offers to take him home and let me eat my dinner in peace.
Now, the CF won't let you bring your stroller into the dining area, so you have to park it in the lobby.
I LOATHE doing that, because I'm always paranoid that someone will jack my shit.
[What? I grew up in some shady neighborhoods...]
But, I soothed myself with the fact that this was South OC. Who'd want my piddly little Graco when Peg Peregos and McClarens abound?
[There's that pesky naivete, again...]
Anyhoo.
Hubs is going to take the baby, but he can't take the stroller because he's already got our little snap 'n go in his trunk, so our big stroller won't fit.
(Damn "compact" Jetta.)
He asks his mom to grab it as we leave and put in her trunk.
(Her Benz has a massive trunk. It's swank.)
Smart? Why, yes! Thanks for noticing!
He also leaves the behemoth piece of luggage I call the "baby bag" with me, because I need to clean up the swath of cheerios, discarded spoons and abandoned binkies that O has left in his wake.
A perfect plan!
That is, until yesterday.
Spouseface and I decide to go strolling around Disneyland with the monkey, but we wanted to swap with my MIL for the big stroller, because it's safer for crowded areas, and lots of walking.
We're already out running errands at Babies R Us, and the ILs are at Costco, so they decide to meet us there for the swap.
I leave to pee....
I come out, and Husband looks like he's gonna vomit.
"The stoller is gone," he says. "It got left."
As soon as the last word starts to come out of his mouth, the previous plan comes flooding back.
So after quite inappropriately yelling FUCK in a baby store, the restaurant is called.
They don't have it.
Still trying to hope, Mall Security is called (this particular CF location is in a large mall).
They don't have it.
Lost and Found?
NOPE.
After double and triple checking in person, our stroller is gone.
I feel like I'm going to cry and throw up. At.the.same.time.
How could I have walked away WITHOUT my child's stroller?! MOM FAIL.
Not to excuse my idiocy, but I'm fairly certain it's because I didn't have O. I never have one without the other.
Yes, I had his bag, but I think my thoughts focused on the fact that Hubben had the actual baby, which meant stroller/carseat combo to my addled brain.
So you may be saying to yourself:
That means you LOST the stroller, not had it STOLEN.
But wait!
Cheesecake said they didn't have the stroller when they closed that night. They closed at 10pm, we left at 8pm. Suspicious...
Also?
I remember thinking to myself (as Hubs was leaving):
It'll be impossible to forget the stroller because we'll have to walk RIGHT BY it to exit the premises. I didn't see a stroller in sight.
[I'm starting to smell a rat...]
If it were just forgotten then it should've still been waiting for me to claim it at CF, or at least in the Mall's Lost and Found.
But you and I both know that someone walked away with it.
It would be super easy to do.
It's not like I thought to install stroller lowjack...Next time, Next TIME.
Yes, I'm the moron (the exhausted, frazzled, Mommy moron) who forgot my stroller. Does that mean that I deserve to have it stolen?
I say NAY, it doth not.
Who the HELL shiests someone's stroller, anyhow?
I'm sorry, but the "Finders-Keepers" brand of property acquisition does not apply here.
I've said it before, and I will say it again-
To Whomever stole my stroller: You are a WHORE.
That sums up the month's top highlights!
Is everyone else as excited for the shenanigans of September as I am?
You'll be missed, little Graco.
In that "what ELSE can go wrong?" kinda way...
It started off on what could be mistaken for a positive trend, because after posting about the crash and burn of relocation, it seemed like we might actually see the sunshiney face of opportunity after all.
Ummm, yeah, we were wrong.
First there were the interviews for Hubs.
3 of them.
They required flying across the states and taking 2 days of of work (unpaid of course).
We'd just spent $800 dollars on much-needed glasses for ourselves (damn our poorly sighted eyeballs), so we couldn't really afford to go, but at the same time we couldn't really afford NOT to go.
Such is the game of Opportunity...
All seemed to be going well, until they moved the interview for the main job that he really wanted, so it became 3 days instead of 2.
But we persevered. Our savings, not so much....
First interview went swimmingly, but they told him upfront that he probably wouldn't be hired for that position because they felt he was a much better fit for the second position...
Peachy! That's the one he really wanted anyhow.
The second interview also went really well (although Husband initially thought he bombed it), and we were getting excited.
Picking-out-paint-colors-discussing-future-renos-on-a-house excited...
(Meanwhile, the third interview never happened, but it was meant to be more of a part-time gig, so we didn't feel too badly.)
A state job WITH Benes?? It was nothing but blues skiiiiiies for us, baby!
(Ohhh, how naive we were then...)
He flies home.
We hear nothing for 3 days. While we'd heard from a little birdie on the inside that they loved him, and were ready to hire him, we were panicking a little.
And with good reason. Despite the glowing reports and rumors of him being hired right away, they didn't hire him.
An eleventh hour interview by a former state employee with 6 years experience in that exact position had to darken our happy little doorstep.
They said all the things that employers say when you're not hired, and our little insider birdie assured us that it was all legit, and they really would keep him in mind for future openings, but told us frankly:
This is state work. Once someone gets in, they don't leave unless forced. We don't have a lot of turnover, so I can't say when/if we'll be hiring again.
Faaaaanfuckingtastic.
I don't want to begrudge anyone a job, especially in this economy, but coooooome ON.
I can't help but be a little bitter.
I can't even begin to explain how much we needed this. For a multitude of reasons.
On top of all of that, we also got denied for health insurance.
AGAIN.
Which is awesome, as I've been really sick, and been told repeatedly that I need to go see a specialist. But adding yet another pre-existing condition to the list of things they can deny me for? Yeah, that sounds terrific.
Don't even get me stared on paying out-of-pocket to just SEE the specialist...
The high-risk pools?
Holy Black Market Pricing, Batman!
You can't even get on the waiting list 'til October.
ANNND, they don't cover preventative care, just major medical. Like a gnarly car accident. Resulting in death.
If that didn't put a spring in our step, then getting our stroller jacked from Cheesecake Factory, did it for SURE.
Now, in all fairness, it was my fault. Sorta.
I'll explain:
O, MIL, her friend, and I all went to the mall. She had errands, I like air conditioning.
After work, Hubs met us for dinner.
Halfway through, O decides he's done for the day.
My spouse, being the gem that he is, offers to take him home and let me eat my dinner in peace.
Now, the CF won't let you bring your stroller into the dining area, so you have to park it in the lobby.
I LOATHE doing that, because I'm always paranoid that someone will jack my shit.
[What? I grew up in some shady neighborhoods...]
But, I soothed myself with the fact that this was South OC. Who'd want my piddly little Graco when Peg Peregos and McClarens abound?
[There's that pesky naivete, again...]
Anyhoo.
Hubs is going to take the baby, but he can't take the stroller because he's already got our little snap 'n go in his trunk, so our big stroller won't fit.
(Damn "compact" Jetta.)
He asks his mom to grab it as we leave and put in her trunk.
(Her Benz has a massive trunk. It's swank.)
Smart? Why, yes! Thanks for noticing!
He also leaves the behemoth piece of luggage I call the "baby bag" with me, because I need to clean up the swath of cheerios, discarded spoons and abandoned binkies that O has left in his wake.
A perfect plan!
That is, until yesterday.
Spouseface and I decide to go strolling around Disneyland with the monkey, but we wanted to swap with my MIL for the big stroller, because it's safer for crowded areas, and lots of walking.
We're already out running errands at Babies R Us, and the ILs are at Costco, so they decide to meet us there for the swap.
I leave to pee....
I come out, and Husband looks like he's gonna vomit.
"The stoller is gone," he says. "It got left."
As soon as the last word starts to come out of his mouth, the previous plan comes flooding back.
So after quite inappropriately yelling FUCK in a baby store, the restaurant is called.
They don't have it.
Still trying to hope, Mall Security is called (this particular CF location is in a large mall).
They don't have it.
Lost and Found?
NOPE.
After double and triple checking in person, our stroller is gone.
I feel like I'm going to cry and throw up. At.the.same.time.
How could I have walked away WITHOUT my child's stroller?! MOM FAIL.
Not to excuse my idiocy, but I'm fairly certain it's because I didn't have O. I never have one without the other.
Yes, I had his bag, but I think my thoughts focused on the fact that Hubben had the actual baby, which meant stroller/carseat combo to my addled brain.
So you may be saying to yourself:
That means you LOST the stroller, not had it STOLEN.
But wait!
Cheesecake said they didn't have the stroller when they closed that night. They closed at 10pm, we left at 8pm. Suspicious...
Also?
I remember thinking to myself (as Hubs was leaving):
It'll be impossible to forget the stroller because we'll have to walk RIGHT BY it to exit the premises. I didn't see a stroller in sight.
[I'm starting to smell a rat...]
If it were just forgotten then it should've still been waiting for me to claim it at CF, or at least in the Mall's Lost and Found.
But you and I both know that someone walked away with it.
It would be super easy to do.
It's not like I thought to install stroller lowjack...Next time, Next TIME.
Yes, I'm the moron (the exhausted, frazzled, Mommy moron) who forgot my stroller. Does that mean that I deserve to have it stolen?
I say NAY, it doth not.
Who the HELL shiests someone's stroller, anyhow?
I'm sorry, but the "Finders-Keepers" brand of property acquisition does not apply here.
I've said it before, and I will say it again-
To Whomever stole my stroller: You are a WHORE.
That sums up the month's top highlights!
Is everyone else as excited for the shenanigans of September as I am?
You'll be missed, little Graco.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
I can dish it out, but can I take it?
(Advice, that is.)
Hell YES. I can!
Fellow Parents and/or Experienced Fliers (sp?), I need your wisdom!
The Hubs and I are flying to West Virginia Labor Day Weekend to visit his family (for a week), and introduce them all to the baby...and have a surprise party for Spouseface's grand-dad who is turning 80...and have O christened in the church where his daddy was christened...
We have never flown with a baby.
Who will be a little over 10 months old at the time of take-off.
We're a little apprehensive.
Traveling makes me nervous as it is, probably b/c I haven't really done THAT much of it.
I'm always afraid that I'll miss my flight/connection, that I'll get lost (I will get lost in a paper bag, it's pathetic.), that I didn't pack the right things, etc.
My Hubs-he's good at it. He lived overseas, he traveled a lot, he's pretty much got it together when flying...
BUT.
He gets nervous when situations involve the baby.
He's used to just worrying about me, (which he would do even if I was the most seasoned flier to ever have flown, that's just how he rolls) so I'm afraid he might get overwhelmed with anxiety when he adds our son to the worry list.
I'm anxious, and we're a month out. I just know my son. He's a sweet boy, but SUPER active, and he HATES to be confined.
[I have this picture in my head of him SCREAMING bloody murder throughout the duration of the 5 hour flight, culminating in our fellow passengers demanding that we poisoned to death by stale airplane food.]
So help a Mama out:
What's the best routine to get through check-in and security?
What do I pack?
What happens if he has a blow out in his diaper
How do I best combat the Screamies?
How do I help the pressure in his little ears?
What other things should I know?
Is there any hope for us at all?
Hell YES. I can!
Fellow Parents and/or Experienced Fliers (sp?), I need your wisdom!
The Hubs and I are flying to West Virginia Labor Day Weekend to visit his family (for a week), and introduce them all to the baby...and have a surprise party for Spouseface's grand-dad who is turning 80...and have O christened in the church where his daddy was christened...
We have never flown with a baby.
Who will be a little over 10 months old at the time of take-off.
We're a little apprehensive.
Traveling makes me nervous as it is, probably b/c I haven't really done THAT much of it.
I'm always afraid that I'll miss my flight/connection, that I'll get lost (I will get lost in a paper bag, it's pathetic.), that I didn't pack the right things, etc.
My Hubs-he's good at it. He lived overseas, he traveled a lot, he's pretty much got it together when flying...
BUT.
He gets nervous when situations involve the baby.
He's used to just worrying about me, (which he would do even if I was the most seasoned flier to ever have flown, that's just how he rolls) so I'm afraid he might get overwhelmed with anxiety when he adds our son to the worry list.
I'm anxious, and we're a month out. I just know my son. He's a sweet boy, but SUPER active, and he HATES to be confined.
[I have this picture in my head of him SCREAMING bloody murder throughout the duration of the 5 hour flight, culminating in our fellow passengers demanding that we poisoned to death by stale airplane food.]
So help a Mama out:
What's the best routine to get through check-in and security?
What do I pack?
What happens if he has a blow out in his diaper
How do I best combat the Screamies?
How do I help the pressure in his little ears?
What other things should I know?
Is there any hope for us at all?
Monday, August 2, 2010
Mommy Means Well Mondays! Ed. 2
(How is it Monday already?!)
Mommy Means Well Mondays: Ed. 2
Where I give you advice, tips, or just rant about life/motherhood. Whether you ask for it or not. Yay!
This week, someone DID ask a question (it's legit-PROMISE):
"Queen" Vic writes...
"I dont have kids (yet), but I teach 2nd graders and I've always wanted to know how parents deal with giving their kids the best with out spoiling them (I've only seen this done successfully a handful of times, I think!)"
MMWM Answers...
I haven't been a mom for very long, so to claim any sort of expertise in that matter would be ridiculous, but here's what I think is the key thing to remember when trying to not spoil your mini-me:
You're like so totally NOT their BFF. [Say WHAAT?]
We all want our children to think that we're cool, and we all want our kids to be our BFFs. Why? Because Damn it!
We're not going to be ridiculously unfair [Read: Assholes] like our parents were. We "get it" like they never did, right?
Maybe, maybe not.
Either way, it is not our job to be cool (we're sooo not anymore, BTW.), and it's sure as shit not our job to be our child's BFF.
That's what the playground is for. Well, that and abject humiliation, but ya gotta take the good with the bad...
Our job is (DEEP breath here, guys.) to: LAY DOWN THE LAW*.
To guide them, to establish boundaries and teach them that their actions have consequence.
I'm not saying to get all Mommie Dearest, about it, I'm just saying that trying to be the "cool mom" is like a fastpass to Lohan-Land.
And nobody wants that.
Well, that wraps up MMWM for this week!
(It's okay to breathe as you wait on pins and needles for next week's heaping helping of helpfulness.)
~Need advice? Got a question? Think I'm nuts? Write in (via email) or leave a comment to be featured on next week's MMWM! gonzajayne@gmail.com~
*Foot Note:
I think it's important to recognize that every child is different, so you really have to tune into your child's learning style and disposition to best communicate (every child deserves to be talked TO, not AT)-and therefore establish boundaries with him/her, creating a healthy parent/child relationship.
Mommy Means Well Mondays: Ed. 2
Where I give you advice, tips, or just rant about life/motherhood. Whether you ask for it or not. Yay!
This week, someone DID ask a question (it's legit-PROMISE):
"Queen" Vic writes...
"I dont have kids (yet), but I teach 2nd graders and I've always wanted to know how parents deal with giving their kids the best with out spoiling them (I've only seen this done successfully a handful of times, I think!)"
MMWM Answers...
I haven't been a mom for very long, so to claim any sort of expertise in that matter would be ridiculous, but here's what I think is the key thing to remember when trying to not spoil your mini-me:
You're like so totally NOT their BFF. [Say WHAAT?]
We all want our children to think that we're cool, and we all want our kids to be our BFFs. Why? Because Damn it!
We're not going to be ridiculously unfair [Read: Assholes] like our parents were. We "get it" like they never did, right?
Maybe, maybe not.
Either way, it is not our job to be cool (we're sooo not anymore, BTW.), and it's sure as shit not our job to be our child's BFF.
That's what the playground is for. Well, that and abject humiliation, but ya gotta take the good with the bad...
Our job is (DEEP breath here, guys.) to: LAY DOWN THE LAW*.
To guide them, to establish boundaries and teach them that their actions have consequence.
I'm not saying to get all Mommie Dearest, about it, I'm just saying that trying to be the "cool mom" is like a fastpass to Lohan-Land.
And nobody wants that.
Well, that wraps up MMWM for this week!
(It's okay to breathe as you wait on pins and needles for next week's heaping helping of helpfulness.)
~Need advice? Got a question? Think I'm nuts? Write in (via email) or leave a comment to be featured on next week's MMWM! gonzajayne@gmail.com~
*Foot Note:
I think it's important to recognize that every child is different, so you really have to tune into your child's learning style and disposition to best communicate (every child deserves to be talked TO, not AT)-and therefore establish boundaries with him/her, creating a healthy parent/child relationship.
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