Join Me in Snarkville

I must ask you if you think I’m over-reacting or if I’ve summed up my recent phone experience fairly well.

Me: I’d like to make an appointment.
Phone Lady: Have we ever seen you before?
Translation: Do I have to be nice to you because you will recognize me in the grocery store?
Me: I’m new to the area, so no.
Phone Lady: I just want you to be aware that we don’t have a new patient appointment open until the 3rd week in May. Will that be ok?
Translation: Please don’t make me do the computer work needed to put you into the system and frankly, we don’t want/need any more people coming in here to cause us to get off our large butts and do actual work. Please find someone else who might like you more.
Me: Do I have a choice?
Phone Lady: No, but if you don’t want to wait you can find another doctor who might be able to see you sooner.
Translation: Please go elsewhere. PLEASE.
Me: Would you like me to find another doctor, or are you capable of seeing me during the 3rd week of May?
Phone Lady: What day would you prefer?
Me: Friday.
Phone Lady: The doctor only works Monday through Thursday.
Translation: Nothing you request will be met with an acceptance or helpful answer.
Me (thinking — that’s shocking the doctor and I have the same schedule): Ok — well, I’m fairly open that week — seeing as it is 5 weeks away — why don’t we look at times and see if a day falls out because of the time. What do you have mid-day?
Phone Lady: 11am on the 15th?
Me: done.
Phone Lady: What are all your personal details? (this is not an exact quote, but you get the idea — she asks for name, number, breast size, insurance company)
Me: Answers
Phone Lady: Just so you know, the doctor is no longer taking new patients with XYZ insurance; but since I already have you in the system, he’ll see you.
Translation: It will be harder to delete you and you seem like the kind of woman who may hurt me if I cancel this appointment in 5 weeks since I’ve been such an ass thus far.
Me: Is that information I need? Does it affect me or my appointment at all?
Phone Lady: Well………………………….No.
Me: Good. Let’s move on then. See you next month.

Now, I must ask — do these people sound like they want my business? Do we think I need a new doctor? Is it wrong to want to find a new doctor and not cancel this appointment and just stand them up?

Yup, the bunny has dropped his, um, droppings(?) off at our little home and I have one little boy who is on such a sugar high it is likely we won’t see him come down for a week. The breakfast of champions that he had this morning was 1 Nutra-Grain bar; 3 containers of yogurt; and 4 Hershey Kisses. He followed this with 2 cups of milk and has been flying high ever since. Now this may not sound like a horrible breakfast, if you didn’t know that Duke doesn’t really eat. In fact, I’ve never seen a child turn up their nose at as much food as Duke can. At one point he only ate five foods — now we have made it back to closer to 10 or 12 — but what a long time coming. And most of what he does eat is JUNK. Now, at first this bugged me. I didn’t want a kid to fight his weight his whole life — but at some point (probably day 5 of the hunger strike he put himself on); I gave in. My feeling at this point is calories are calories and we will deal with veggies at some point.

However, I thought I’d share Duke’s Easter Basket with you all. the reason it is on the kitchen counter is that our dog is a chocolate hound and will find and eat chocolate at every opportunity. He even followed Duke around when he was eating the kisses hoping for it to fall. The eggs with Dinos on them have matchbox cars inside (isn’t our Easter Bunny pretty cool?) And yes, those are Thomas the Tank Engine underpants — doesn’t everyone get underwear in their Easter Basket?

Well, happy Easter folks. I’m off to go bite the ears off marshmellow peep bunnies — which are my favorite Easter candy!

Quick update: The car is fixed. Total damage to the bank account was ZERO.

In case you are wondering how to invent new torture for small children. Take them on the following errands.
1. The feed store for dog food.
2. High-end grocery store for bran muffins
3. Pet store for cat food.
4. Target for Easter Basket goodies
5. Lunch at Bakery Square

This is somehow a recipe for torture and will be meet by screaming everytime the car stops. However, wehn asked while our head is down on the table and our eyes are closing if you want to take a nap, state without question, “NO” Then fight sleep at all costs.

Enjoy the quiet now.

…if you know I need my car on a flatbed to the shop, WHY would the tow company send a normal tow truck out to TELL me that the flatbed doesn’t run until 8am???? And don’t answer that they didn’t know they could call — they knew both that I was at home AND my number.

The tow truck guy (who smelled vaguely, or completely like SKUNK) told me that with these longer tows many people don’t go with their cars — so he was hoping to get my information and let me go on my way — SO — perhaps this wasn’t all that weird — but I was delighted they we here in 20 minutes — but sad when it turned into a wait until 8am.

Now, why couldn’t the two truck driver just have TAKEN the flat bed instead of the other truck???

These are the questions that haunt me at night.

If you knit or even know a knitter, then you may be aware that we are an odd bunch of folks. We are in love with fiber — to the point we are often seen stroking it in public and rubbing it on our little faces. We love other people’s work and will follow a stranger in an effort to figure out a cable pattern. Like I said, we are an odd lot.

I would love to think that everyone is like this with the hobby they love — but I seem to notice this with knitters more than anyone else. But there are very few of us who can work on only one project at a time. We get bored with little yarn and little needles and need something that flys off fat needles with fat yarn — so alas, we have many things going on at once. In addition, we tend to like to share our WIPs (Works in Progress) with others in an effort to finish them and have other people admire them. (Don’t think we don’t LOVE to hear how good we are at knitting or that we for a minute think that everyone can knit as well as we can — I’m sorry, we knitters are a proud lot who know we can do things that most people won’t and enjoy every minute of the pride and need even more glory.)

So without more explaination, here are a few of my current pieces. As of this second, I don’t have socks on any needles — which is only slightly giving me heartburn; but here’s what we have:
1. A sweater made of Artfibers, Gypsy. This is 100% silk and feels great on the fingers and I do have to stop and pet it a few times. I’m making a simple sweater in the round (gotta love no seams) from the top down. This sweater will evenually be in brown, white, and orange. Thus far it is flying off the needles. I’ve just done my last increase row for the yoke and have ten even rows to knit before the divide for the sleeves, front, and back.

2. This is my first shot at fair isle. It is the Misty bag from MagKnits and thus far I’m doing ok with it. I’m using Karokoe yarn in two shades and preying that it felts as well as people tell me. It is 50% wool and 50% soy silk and will become a favorite yarn, if it felts well, as it is the softest thing to play with, next to the silk above.

That’s it — I think 2 posts in one day is enough for me — but I was too proud not to share my little knitting items. Don’t worry, I won’t call at 2am to declare them complete and how wonderful it might be to look/pet/gawk at them. I’ll wait until at least 4am

Oh, someone out there please pay the ransom — I’m trapped. Ok, so I may be a wee bit melodramatic. Sue me.

Prince came home yesterday is one of those truly fabulous moods. His plane arrived at 9:44am and by the time you catch the mass transit to the 7th circle of hell, named long term parking, he discovered that his car battery was dead. No biggie, he walks to the call box — only to discover that it is DEAD. He attempts to get help in several ways, but ends up walking to the complete other end of hell and gets a jump and heads home. He thought he had left the parking lights on or something. The hour drive home, should have been enough to re-charge the battery and everything be perfect, right? Wrong.

This morning, Prince and Duke head out to work and school. I wave goodbye with my coffee in my hand and thinking thoughts like “uninterrupted shower” and “total complete quiet” and “extra 30 minutes in bed”. Then Prince screams for me — seems the car battery is still dead and he’s going to take my car — except that the sunroof popped open on his car and since it is raining, he needs to jump it enough to get the roof closed. No problem. “You need me? No? Oh, ok” I go back to bed — he needs me. Seems that the jumper cables we have aren’t long enough to reach between the two cars in the driveway — so we need to push his car out onto the street to do this — no problem. With this jump, the car clicks and all sorts of lights go on and off — but in fact the car DOES NOT START. So, now we have a dead car half in the street and can’t push it back in the driveway because it is UPHILL. Now, normal, logical people would be on the phone with their auto club — but my dear, darling hubby had to put a few things in the car (read: mess with the electrical system of the car) and he needs to pull them out before we can have it towed for work to be done to it. No problem, except he and Duke need to be at school and work today and “Sweetie, do you need the car today?” No — I’ll live. Hence, trapped in Snarkville.

Now, there’s been discussion here that this could be a normal reaction to the Tax Refund gods who require things to break and cost the total of the refund to fix if you even think about spending the refund on something just for you. I’m not sure how I pissed off those gods — since we put our refund into the savings account for our future. But maybe being solvent for another month was too frivolous to consider. Or, perhaps this is a warranty item and I won’t have to worry about it. More to come tomorrow — probably while I wait for the car to be fixed.

These are a few ramblings at the end of my day. Enjoy.

1. Movie? in the middle of the day on Tuesday? yep, it was wonderful. Yes, it was me and this highly annoying woman behind me, but it was so like eating chocolate for dinner. I saw the teen movie, “She’s the Man” (yup, I’m ill that way). As I walked into the theater, I thought this isn’t all that safe if you think about it — sound proof room, no one really here — dark. But I tried to put out of my mind that there was the chance of a psycho behind me and enjoy the movie. I got exactly 5 rows on a shawl I’m working on done — it is growing from the point up — so the rows are now REALLY, REALLY long. The movie is lame and predicitible — but it has funny moments and is exactly what I love in escapist teem drama/comedy. Plus it is based on 12th Night, which is a play I did in college and I love the storyline.

2. It has poured here AGAIN. I’m getting webbed feet. My dog has constant ‘wet dog’ smell. I need to see the sun. I need to dry out again. It was raining when I walked the block and a half to get to the theater. It was raining when I left the theater. It was raining when I picked up Duke from school (who walked insanely slowly from school to the car and stopped to ponder the drops on his head — URGH). It was raining when I got back home. I’m still wet.

3. And in reference to the title — I’m dealing with wet underpants. Yes, in the midst of potty training hell here in Snarkville. It seems Duke has mastered telling me AFTER he goes — which means we are averaging 2 pairs of training pants an evening. I’m 90% sure that my plan of training pants at home is a good one, because in the past two days I’ve seen him start to get it — including running into the bathroom to potty on his own — but he didn’t go. So little progress, yet so much laundry.

4. The Prince returns to Snarkville tomorrow. Need I say more? Perhaps I won’t be snarky tomorrow — nope, probably not possible.

No adult human interaction in just about 3 straight days has left me with very little to post about this morning. Yes, you read that correctly — I am a hermit. Not really, it is just that I am a WAHM (wow, I never knew I was a dyslexic pop band from the 80’s), and with a child under 3, I don’t get out nearly as much as one would hope.
So, instead of a real snarky post about how Duke has the ability to entertain himself up until the moment the phone rings and I need to do a little business; or how Prince, away on his business trip actually told me that he wasn’t attending the dinner or the afternoon session tonight, but can’t possibly come home a day early — even if it would mean I’d get a sitter so I can get out of the house for that afore mentioned adult interaction. No, I’m not pissy or anything. Look something shiny.
However, I thought I’d share what my plan is for today. It is my top secret, totally for me plan for the day. I am going to reward myself for doing a few things that are needed in this house by taking myself to the movies this afternoon. Yes, an afternoon movie on a Tuesday — I know how to have fun or what, right? But yes, I happen to love to sit in old candy and become deaf as I watch a movie — LOVE.IT. I can’t even believe I’m going to do it — but I just can’t contain myself, I’m that excited about it. Yes, I’m going to see something fairly trashy and not at all meaningful — isn’t that what the movies are all about? Is it not brain candy and therefore the mental equivalent to marshmallow fluff? And that’s why I’m going to the movies today.
Last question I have is what will I knit while I’m there?

Yes, the weekend alone without the Prince has been more than a little trying. After the Target experience, we had a fairly decent Saturday afternoon and evening — though Duke did NOT want to go bed. That night he slept in THREE (yes, I said three) diapers. You see the night before, my dear, sweet, odd child wet his diaper when he was awake enough to notice and was kind enough to take it off. Not being able to find anything to replace it, he went to bed diaperless. Let’s leave my morning as, “Wow, his comforter, sheets, and mattress pad all fit in the washer at the same time.” and move on. So, we talked about his wet diaper and I offered him a pull-up that he could reach to put on should he wet his diaper and I moved on. Saturday night came, I was putting jammies on the child and Duke insisted on wearing a pull-up to bed — now, he is NOT potty trained. He is at the very beginnings of THINKING about potty training. He pees ALOT at night — more than a pull-up can hold. Faced with more laundry, I decided to put the regular diaper on him, but in compromise fashion, I put his pull-up OVER the regular diaper. This worked. He asked for the replacement pull-up that we spoke about that morning and I laid it out for him. When I went to check on him at 11pm and pull his covers up, I noticed he had added the pull-up to the mix of pants. Needless to say, I needed to do no laundry Sunday morning.

Sunday, however, was tougher. We got through the morning (with a few potty accidents and much angst on my part) and Duke decided to eat his body weight in Nutra Grain bars, and not oh, lunch. But happily went off to take his nap. When he woke up, he was happy as a clam and grabbed my jacket and informed me we should “Go” Where he wanted to go I have no idea, but we finally got dressed for the day and went. We ended up at a park for a bit and he had a blast — and I got the side benefit of wearing him out. But I have to say, that at 7pm when he went to bed, I was one tired Mama.

So, all of that long story to say, my house is quiet. I took Duke to school and came home to a quiet little house. I was productive in that I took out the trash and made myself breakfast. I plan to get fully dressed (I always wonder if school realizes that I just throw a pair of jeans on and take him in — or if they think I am this poor a dresser) and running two or three little errands. I want to melt into my couch and just might if given the chance. But, shhh, I plan on sneaking out tomorrow afternoon and going to a movie by myself — just cause. I’m in love with the idea and can’t wait.

On the knitting front, I had such a rocky day yesterday, that I feel the only way to re-cover is to cast on a silk sweater I want to make. After being anal about the stripe pattern and using Excel to sort through what looks best (here’s hoping I have enough stripes to make it), I have cast on. Only to learn a valuable lesson — Addi Turbos are bigger than my interchangeables. This is key on two fronts. One, I was going to use the 2 circ method to knit this sweater entirely in the round — it will look a bit funny if the front is looser than the back. Two, my gauge swatch was done on my interchangables and I’d have to completely re-figure gauge on the Addis if I continue — not to mention buying more Addis (which, frankly, is that all that much of an issue? I mean to buy knitting tools? Go to a yarn shop and smell and fondle yarn? So, not my biggest problem today). So, there in lies my problem — to knit this on Addis, for which I’d need to buy new (probably smaller ones) or knit it on the interchangables and then there is what to do about the sleeve? I know in relation to world peace this doesn’t rank very high, but to me — it is up there with going to the grocery store.

Prince update: He returns on Wednesday morning. I’m still short a sitter for Tuesday evening, which probably means I will not be attending — but I’ll live with that, if I go to the movies Tuesday afternoon — I may have all the “Me” time I can stand.

Sunday is Easter — and I’ve not put ONE single thing into Duke’s basket (heck, I don’t even have a basket for him). I know, I gotta get cracking.

Not so long ago, Prince, Duke, and I were vacationing in Las Vegas. It was my (and Duke’s) first trip and I have to say that overall we had a ball. Duke loved to point out all the water (did you know there are a few fountains in Vegas?) and I liked the part where I only donated $20 to the economy of Las Vegas. Anyway, as you my not realize, Duke is the exciting age of two and a half. Which makes him a child of extremes — when we are happy the world smiles, there are birds singing, and life is pretty wonderful. However, when we are ticked, block clouds gloom, nothing is right, and there is a fit of such proportions that innocent bystanders feel the need to take cover.

Anyway, while in Vegas, we made the horrible, parent mistake of taking Duke to a little buffet for dinner. Ok, this was not going to go well, the minute we saw that the entrance was an escalator (which is a 2 and half year old’s idea of heaven on earth with a side of roller coaster thrown in). He immediately forgot about dinner and wanted to spend the evening riding. Now, being the stricter than strict parents that we are (being all demanding for you know, civil behavior), we took him to the table and explained how we are going to act in this eating establishment. Well, this (hopefully) well-meaning, but highly nosy gentleman at the table next to us, kept commenting on Duke’s poor behavior TO US. We took turns staying with Duke, allowing him to sit in laps, play with sugar, walk laps around the buffet picking out options. Nothing was making him happy.

Once I finished inhaling my dinner, I grabbed the child and walked out to the lobby. Being horribly mean and nasty, and knowing that the ride down the escalator was what he wanted, I sat him down on the bench for a Time Out. Well, within seconds (and with a line of cheap, hungry, senior citizens watching) the same nosy man walks over hands my son a dollar and says, “I’ll give you this dollar if you just SHUT UP.” I was horrified. Too horrified to speak. Too horrified to offer to shove the dollar where the sun don’t shine. I grabbed Duke, told Prince where we were going and took us back to our room for a serious Time Out (including grounding from TV) and a good cry.

Fast forward, I had almost put this behind me and move on. We got home, life calmed down a bit and suddenly, Duke had fallen into a bit of a groove. Yippie. So, this weekend, we are focusing on potty training. Duke has the idea, but needs to have a real consistent experience and I’m finding out that cloth training pants are working really well. SO, I only had 3 pair (so, not enough for what I’ve termed potty boot camp) and needed a Target run. In addition, Duke needed summer shorts, more shoes (as he has almost worn out his one pair) and a few other minor things. So, I took the Target tour — checking all the clearance aisles out. Duke had no desire to ride in the cart; so I let him wander a bit as he’s good to check in. He knew we were shoe shopping and kept pushing me to the shoe department. Ok, so we went and looked. He instantly found a pair (sandals in a size 12) that he had to try on. He took off his own shoes and carried the size 12’s around while he was sock footed.

Ok, then he got adventurous — he walked farther than I was comfortable and I went to get him. He threw one mother of a fit. I told him, “you stay with me, or you go in the cart.” He screamed, cried, was totally mad. I put him in the cart. I thought nothing of staying put and not leaving the store — since a) it was early and there were few people to offend; b) He would have gotten his way because he wanted to move from that spot and I believe that parents need to win when they are right c) I needed to get the child some shoes. I’d ask him, “do you like this pair?” Crying, tears pouring down his face, he’d say, “Yes.” I’d go to try them on him he’d kick them off. I said calmly, “Target has a good return policy. Let’s pick two and if they don’t work, we will return.” We pick out two pair and Duke has calmed a little and we are moving again.

Then it happens:
This older lady, who has no business in the children’s show area, turns her cart down my aisle. I think, “oh, no, not again.” I brace myself for the comment or nastiness. She kindly and gently puts her hand on my arm (I so prickle) and says to me, “I just had to come and tell you. You are doing a wonderful job. I heard you talk to him calmly and rationally. You are doing great.” I think you could have pushed me over with a feather. I love her. She must have had an effect on Duke too — he stopped whimpering and perked up with happiness for the rest of the Target tour. I’m not sure, she had nothing in her cart and I didn’t see her again on my tour, but I think she might have been an angel telling me I was on the right track.

Duke, the angel, is now sleeping and I’m going to run out to the car and grab the bags from Target. The shoes were in the beginning of the trip — after his episode, I was able to pick out a huge number of shorts, some tee, 9 more pairs of training pants (yes, I bought them out), socks, and the afore mentioned two pairs of shoes (one of which is light up shoes). What I didn’t find were long sleeve tees for me or a new pair of jeans, since they didn’t have my size.