Do You Have a Storage/Costco Room?

Because of the really odd ways money was handled as I grew up, it's the thing in my life that still causes stress for me. 

One of the ways it manifests is buying things ahead of time. 
Otherwise known as hoarding. Craft supplies and stuff for work.

I can say that I don't have as much stuff as I used to, and that I've become more selective about what I bring in. I've also consciously made an effort to use the supplies I have a million of instead of admiring the possibilities. I have given a lot away, too.

It's why I don't have to buy things when I want to introduce a craft project or art activity or science experiment. I have all those things and more.

I stock up on new things, too. 
Consumable goods, I guess.

In the cabinet in the hallway are things like bar soap, liquid hand soap, hair spray, shampoo. Q-tips. You know, hygiene supplies. I buy bulk packages when they are on sale. 

My mom infrequently visited us when we lived in California. Took her shopping with me once or twice. She had a difficult time understanding why I was 'buying such a big package' because there were only two of us. 

Just a little math is needed to figure that out, but all she could see was that the small toothpaste was a dollar less than the economy sized one. The four pack of toilet paper was a lot less expensive than the 12 pack. But per roll, it was less expensive to buy the large one.

The room that was Alyssa's is now our Costco/storage room. Big bales of TP and paper towels. Aluminum foil and baking parchment, laundry soap and garbage bags and things that belong to Mason and Alyssa that they don't have room for in their apartment and a TON of stuff for my job. We have shelves all along the walls (bought those at Costco, too).

It's also where the vacuum lives. My easel is in there for when I decide I want to paint again. It's been awhile and I love doing it and I just... haven't. Bins for my tie dye stuff. 
More craft supplies. Bulletin board edging and lettering, another thing I won't need once I retire.

My hubby hangs on to things as much as I do. He has good reasons, but his story is his. Let's just say his family could have done better for him and should have.

That stuff affected us both.

I picked up some cardboard boxes last week and am in the process of getting rid of clothing I no longer wear. I keep stuff until it wears out. Frayed sleeves and little holes don't make me stop wearing it. I always figure my jacket covers the sleeves and if I'm wearing long sleeves under my uniform t shirt and happen to get paint or ink or whatever on those sleeves, I don't worry much about it. I won't cry if I have to throw out a shirt I've had for 15 years because paint won't wash out of the sleeves.

So I'm getting ready for the last full year of work, I think. I may possibly work until December of 2027, depending on a few factors.

Hopefully I'll have used up most of my stuff by then, making it less of a pain in the ass when it's time to sell the house and move.

So do you have a Costco room? 

Mine looks kind of like this one, only smaller.

A long time ago...

I turned 15 in December of 1975.

I've talked a little here about money and Mr. Selfish, aka my father, and not having decent clothes as a kid/teenager. I don't mean 'waaah, I didn't get the 50 dollar jeans' either.

Nope. I had two pairs. Both getting worn out between the thighs, getting awfully thin in the butt and I did my laundry every other night. ALL my clothes into the washer every other night. Two shirts, three pairs of underwear, two bras and two pairs of jeans.


I usually ended up having to use some of my brother's tube socks because I only had two pairs of socks, too.

They were multi purpose tube socks. 
When it got cold, we wore them as mittens.
Bonus: they were extra long, so when we outgrew our winter coats, there was still some sort of covering on our arms. Helpful when it's four degrees outside.

My mom didn't have a lot of clothes, either. The things she wore were things she'd been wearing since I was a little kid. The same dresses (most of which were purchased by my grandparents or great grandparents as gifts) and the few same shirts and pants.

She was working full time as a police dispatcher in our little town. She had mentioned more than once that she was chilly during the swing and graveyard shifts. The building wasn't properly insulated and the heating system was old.

So the year I turned 15, my grandparents sent me a birthday check for fifteen bucks.

I cashed it and went to the only clothing store in town, Quisenberry's.  A quick search told me there were a total of eight Quisenberry's department stores, and that one still exists in Ontario, Oregon.

So I wanted to get some new pants. That's why I went shopping. 

The Junior department was located on the left side of the store all the way in the back.

To get there, one had to walk through the ladies wear. On my way through, I saw some sweaters. They were the longer cardigans that had no buttons, instead tying closed with a little knitted belt. Can't call it a sash... sounds pretentious, don't you think? 

And I spotted a sweater that would be perfect for my mom. It was a dark blue and tan, with a vertical pattern of cable knit.

$14.99.

I had a hard time getting that sweater, I really wanted something for myself.
But I kept thinking about my mom sitting in the cop shop and shivering in the Eastern Oregon winter.

::sigh::

So I bought it.

When I gave it to her, she cried.
I didn't see it as a big deal at the time, and I didn't feel like I was being generous or philanthropic or whatever, either.

I really did want some pants, though. Haha.

So I was scrolling through social media today. 
Came across a pic of my mom playing BINGO at her assisted living facility.
And she's wearing the sweater.

I don't know if there's a moral to the story other than the quality of garments was a lot better back then.

 

If you enlarge the photo you can see the school across the street.
If you were to look into the first set of windows on the left, you'd be looking into my first grade classroom. We left that town at the end of my 2nd grade year and my visit in March was the first time I've been back since 1968.

It's not 'Postive Reinforcement'. Dammit.

This is part of what one of our managers sent out to the site directors this week. 
It was buried in a bunch of stuff intended to encourage everyone as we roll on into the last month of the school year.

Sort of like 'we're in the home stretch, make sure you get your site inventory done, let me know if I can help you with anything, rah rah, go team!'

"Looking for positive reinforcement ideas? If students did a great job cleaning up after snack, celebrate with an outdoor picnic snack the next day. If students had great listening ears during team meeting, reward them with 10 extra minutes of recess. If students were focused and listening during face-to-names, maybe that earns them a second recess at 5:00 pm!"

Extra recess as a reward isn't positive anything. 
It's manipulative crap. 

And it's beyond me why we don't know better by now. 
I don't like this shit anyway, but it really bugs me when it comes from someone I like in most ways. This person has a sense of humor, is compassionate, cares about her job and the people she works with and although I don't know her outside of work, I've never heard her say a bad thing about anyone. She's consistently upbeat, reliable and supportive of us and our programs.

Okay, first, someone in a management position should know that sanitation/licensing says no, we aren't having snacks outside. We can't keep our surroundings free of things like bird shit.

Regarding the rewards thing, I can give sort of a pass to people who don't have kids and have never worked with them. Of course they don't get it. But think about it.

This is the last month of school. Kids are tired. 
They're being asked to do a lot more than their usual heavy load, too.

I think we lose sight of how much we are expecting from our young humans. 

We don't see them. 
We don't remember being them.

We (I include myself in this) rarely consider where little Hayden came from before he showed up this afternoon. 

Does he live in a home where he's cared for? Is he listened to and encouraged and appreciated for who he is? Does he have issues in his classroom with being able to pay attention or is he bothered by the noises his seat mate is making? Did he have time to eat his lunch? Did his teacher decide the best way to get him to stop wiggling was to take away his recess? 

Is he one of the check in kids with the daily boo boo sheet? (do click on that link. Please. I have talked about this more than once, but I figure the more people who learn about it and see why it's a crap idea, the better.)

Did he oversleep and have to rush to get ready for school this morning? Was his already-overworked mom or dad grumpy with him because he didn't hurry fast enough? Did he spill glue on his shirt and does he have texture or sensory issues so that spot of glue is driving him nuts all day? Does he have a loose tooth he can't leave alone? Is his nose stuffy or runny? Is he coming down with something or just getting over it?

Is he getting along with the classmate he argued with during the foursquare game at morning recess now that they're both at my program and getting ready to make something from magnatiles?

I don't know most of the answers to those questions at any given time, but I do know that when Hayden's shoulders are set a certain way as I look at him across the room, he hasn't had a great day and is likely to explode if someone looks at him wrong.

And even if all the things are perfect, a kid may be having an off day. 
I know I have them. I'll bet you do, too.

They're learning all the time while we coast along in our groove. 
They're growing. 
Their little brains are busy 24/7, and so are their bodies. It's go, go, go, constantly.

And on top of that learning all the time thing they do, the school year is winding down.
Oh! And end of year high stakes testing! When mine worry aloud about the tests, I tell them truthfully that the test isn't about them at all. 

"No one will ever show you your tests. They won't be using your test to help you do better in math or reading or anything. So all you can do is your best. No one can ask more than that. Do it and then forget about it." 

Also they're dealing with complete disruption in their routines. 
The end of school year concerts are happening. 
There are field trips and class parties.

So my young humans show up in various stages of being escalated, grumpy, tired, weepy, uncooperative with things like games and construction toys. They're hungry, too. A lot of them haven't eaten since 11 and probably didn't get enough time to eat, too much time waiting in line and then rushing so they can get outside.

Instead of 'how can we make kids do what we want' we should be asking what's best for these kids right now, today. What can we do to take some of the pressure off? How can we contribute to them having a good afternoon? How can we help them relax?

Here's the point, at least for people who do this work. Might work for everyone who deals with kids...
The more exercise they get, the more freedom they have to choose their own adventures, the easier our jobs get.

Read that again.

The more exercise they get, the more freedom they have to choose their own adventures, the easier our jobs get.

So feed them immediately upon arrival in program. 
Answer, "Yes." if they ask to finish the lunch their parent packed for them this morning. If they want seconds of the snack we're serving, yes to that, too.

The kids who are there late in the afternoon are offered a second snack at 5:30.

As soon as they eat and we know the playground is clear of the other group(s) we are outside. Our usual time is a half hour, but the weather has been lovely and they're really enjoying their recess time. So we stay out a full hour most days. Even longer when we can. Sometimes the other group comes out while we're there so we go in, but they never come out during our designated time slot.

Stop making outside time, something they need as much as they need food and water, transactional. 

And stop encouraging people who work with children to be condescending and patronizing to them.

Please.

I thought I would be slowing down by this age...

Guess that's what I get for thinking.

It's been a crazy couple weeks.

Drama camp was a ton of fun. We had seven kids in total. The week was filled with getting to know you/putting yourself out there games and daily rehearsals for The Three Wiley Goats Gruff.
Avoiding copyright infringement, ya know.

We had two little people who were completely disinterested in anything to do with acting, making a costume, or taking any of the available parts. I talked to their parents to make sure they knew they were paying for drama camp and that neither of their kids wanted to be in the play. Both of them were fine with that, they just wanted a place to leave their children for four hours a day so they could get some things done. 

So we made sure they had stuff to do and were having fun.

My sidekick for the week is a drama major. She heads back to college in a month. I didn't even need to be there except technically (someone director-qualified needs to be on site), she had everything handled and was great with the kids.

They put the play on for their families on Friday afternoon. It was a short little adaptation of the original story, and the kids made it their own.

The kid playing the troll didn't want to be a troll, she wanted to be a goat, too. So she was a sassy goat instead.

I had a good time hanging out with the little group and really liked my co-worker. It was a nice way to end the summer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This week has been a week of training/work.

Director-specific on Monday and Tuesday, full crew on Wednesday.
My assistant has six years of experience as a site teacher and will be handling the morning program, but I've only met him once in passing. So that will be interesting.

The owner of the company attended Monday's session. She approached me during a break to tell me how pleased she is that I'm taking on one of our new sites. She didn't need to do that. But that personal touch is one of the reasons I am liking this company so far.

I got an email this week, too.
I am receiving a bonus on my next check for, well, I'm not sure. For my dedication and commitment. Totally not necessary. I appreciate it, though.

I visited the new school today. I have part of a store room to keep my stuff in, which means I can bring some things to enhance the program and build it from the beginning. I want my program to be a destination rather than the default (well, there is no other place to leave my kid, so I guess I'll leave them there) and for the kids to have a good time.

I'm less anxious than I was now that I've been to the school. I met three school staff people, all three of them were welcoming and very friendly. They said they're really happy to have us there.

I actually have a day off tomorrow, but then next week is more busy-ness. Need to get out to my school and set up the program, put away all the stuff in the cabinets. Make sure I know where my clipboard is and that my assistant can open morning program on day one.

Lots of things have to happen.

Monday I have the hands-on portion of my CPR training. I did the online stuff a few weeks ago, but had to schedule the rest and this was the first one I could get.

I have a meeting with our inclusion specialist and my new manager to discuss one of my kids who needs some special accommodation(s) but we have to find a day that works for us all.

Wednesday isn't just set up day, but I will be staying for the evening back to school thing at the school. We'll set up a table and talk to prospective families and probably meet some of my new kids.

School starts on September 5th. I know that a couple weeks in, things will seem routine and will be running smoothly, but it's a little stressful now.

I'll have to remind myself that I asked for a new program.
Yippee.

I'm too busy to stop and think about all that has to happen between now and day one, and a ton of boxes and bins here at home that need to be sorted through.

Here we go.

Well, that's special.

I've been swamped with work, life in general and just being burned out. I woke up on Wednesday last week with a cyst inside the back of my right knee. So I wasn't already having enough physical issues, I could hardly walk all week. 

I couldn't get my leg into the car without grabbing it and making it move with my hands. I couldn't bend the knee far enough to get OUT of the car, either. Had a few really bad moments when I arrived at work, but there were about two inches of extra distance in my car's seat. After I moved it back, I was able to get in and out. Had to bring my cane, though.

God I hate admitting that I am not the girl I used to be.

I took a lot of Excedrin that week. Every day it was awful to make it to work. Trying to get in and out of the shower when I could not bend my knee was lots of fun, too. Cyst finally broke (I felt an awful POP) on Friday morning.

Tough week. Kicked my ass.

So if anyone has noticed my absence, that's my official excuse.

Last week they had me running what's called 'specialty camp' at a small charter school. It's a half day camp, running from 1 to 5 PM. Good for people who don't actually need day care but want something fun and safe and engaging for their kids to do.

I had six young humans and one slightly older one to hang out with. The older one is a new hire, and I did not expect to like her.

There's a reason for that.

In March, Anacin (substitute site director) was hired for the site where I was working while they waited for a site to open.

Her name isn't actually Anacin, but I call her that because she gives me a headache.

She isn't a bad person, and is decent to the kids, but has a bit of idiocy. One of the really annoying things about Anacin is the vocal fry. Her affectation just... grates on me. She also does not have kids of her own, which doesn't disqualify a person from this type of work, but having a real understanding of kids is easier when you do.

I remarked about one of the kids in our program who has ADHD. I said that his diagnosis wasn't a choice, but the fact that he is a decent person and tries to do the right thing is a choice. She shut that down immediately, rolling her eyes and making an exasperated noise. She didn't see the effort it takes for him to just be. He doesn't fit in most situations and she was unwilling to see what I saw in him. She was kind to him, though.

She's also really, really excited to fill out an incident report every time a child steps a toe over the line. Most of those incident reports aren't necessary, but she acts like she's going to win a prize.

Terri, the new hire who worked with me last week, is one of Anacin's friends. She applied for the job based on Anacin's recommendation. So yeah, I figured I would dislike her. Happy to report that I was wrong. She is very nice, excellent with the kids, helpful with the things that need to be done and willing to do anything needed to keep things rolling along.

Sadly, she's really qualified, as in site director qualified, so she will be getting her own site this fall. I would love to have worked with her while I start my new program.

Okay. So.The oldest kid we had was nine, she had a birthday last month, so a young nine. The rest were six or seven.

The theme for the week was 'one with nature'.

Day one was about rocks and volcanoes. We had rocks to paint and a soul-crushingly boring YouTube video about volcanoes. Now I would have liked to help the kids make a volcano, but there were no supplies for that.

Other lessons for the week were learning about water, insects, animals and plants. The Anacin-designed lesson plan wasn't bad, but it was very sparse and did not fill up four hours a day.

Some of the activities on it weren't practical. For example, the kids were supposed to meet a tree. We were to blindfold the kids, take them outside to where there are lots of trees, pick one, take a child to the tree and have them feel the bark and smell the tree, perhaps hold a leaf in their hand. Then we were to go back to a central location and have the kid try to guess which tree they'd 'met'.

Not practical where we were, the charter school is in an industrial park. There is a bit of vegetation, but no trees.

And I'm not sure which universe the person who said 'all the supplies are there' lives in, but it's not the universe *I* live in. We had a cardboard box with some peat pots and some seeds. That was it for the whole week.

So as I always do, I brought some things with me, scrounged around the site for some other things and turned something sort of boring into as much fun as I could.

Monday, we made solar bracelets (I brought the beads, which change color in sunlight), painted rocks and played a few games. Sneaked in a little science lesson, too. Smeared sunscreen on some of the beads and took them outside with the ones that had not been screened. The kids were suitably impressed.

Tuesday, after I'd learned my lesson on Monday about the lack of supplies and the sparse curriculum, I started bringing some stuff in.

Air dry clay. Rocks and moss and little critters to make dioramas. Scrapbook paper and buttons and little punched out flowers. Glue. Cartesian divers. Pipettes to drip water onto coins and show surface tension. I made two little paper guys and colored them with water color markers, then put one under water, pulled him out and showed how the color ran. Second one went inside an inverted medicine bottle (like a diving bell) and was submerged. He came out dry, of course, which impressed the kids. I brought fidgets I've purchased for my new program, too. Because it's always fun to get your hands on things, am I right? Of course I'm right.

I brought several books about insects.
Some of the kids said, "Eww!" when we started talking about bugs.

I told them, "No, no! You're entomologists now! You can no longer say 'eww'."

They thought it was funny, but wanted to know what they're supposed to say instead.

I told them, "You must look smart and serious and say,"Oh, how interesting!"

We put the bug books on the parent table. One of the moms came to pick her kids up, saw the bugs we'd created sitting there and said, "Eww!"

Her daughter said, "No, Mom. We're entomologists now. We say 'how interesting'!"

Funny.

The rest of the week was full of activities. I sat there each evening for about 45 minutes past closing time (because traffuck SUCKS) and screened videos about each day's theme as well as looking up different dance videos for the kids to do. Rather do that than sit on the freeway.

The temperatures were too hot for us to be outdoors, so we had to do some physical activities indoors. I found a long, heavy duty cardboard tube in the recycle bin and they did the limbo.

I found lots of other dance videos that fit our themes, too. I also found some much more interesting videos about the rest of the things were were studying and we watched those instead of the dull and stupid ones Anacin had plugged in.

It was a fun week, but knowing that I didn't get what I needed to run the program has me set up for next week when I am once again running things. I'll be spending a bit of time this weekend getting supplies together to take in. I don't want to run a simple little camp, I want the kids to have a really good time, and while the plan isn't bad, it's small. And I don't like to say it's boring, but, well....

This week I worked an hour away from home on Monday, 35 minutes away Tuesday, stayed home with a screaming migraine on Wednesday and Thursday and went back to Tuesday's site today.

I will try to catch you up tomorrow on just how fucking wonderful that was.
Oh the kids are great everywhere. This is definitely the job for me. But godDAMN the people in charge are power-tripping assholes.

It's wrong to slap co-workers, right?

Do you know why co-worker is hyphenated? So no one thinks I'm a cow orker.

I've been at still another wild and out of control program this week. No, not the one I wrote about last time, a whole 'nother one! If you're keeping score, that's two in one week!

The kids are loud. Active. Some of them are obnoxious with each other. They don't respond to most of the things being said to them. This is partly because there are a lot of different people working at the site, and the 'do this, not that' isn't exactly consistent. We all have different ideas of what's acceptable behavior, what's over the top, what's unsafe. Yeah, sometimes safety is subjective.

Example:
There are chairs on the younger kid side of the program. There are several reasons for this. These chairs have a 50 lb weight limit. Many of the kids in our program are far over 50 lbs. Some of them are taller than I am. Ha, I'm over 50 lbs, too. But for whatever reason, some of the adults have allowed our kids to go poach those chairs.

They bring them over to our side of things. Now guess... do they just sit in them and have a quiet conversation or read a book the way the kids on the younger side do? NO they do NOT! Why, they act like the rowdy bunch they are and spin in them, use them as weapons, push each other off of them and generally engage in exactly the types of behaviors that we really don't need. There is an acceptable activity level, and anything that contributes to upsetting that balance is not helpful.

Guess it doesn't matter because the chairs are getting destroyed and will have to be thrown away at the end of summer, if not before.

I hate waste.
I hate when good stewardship isn't being taught to the kids, too.
It costs the company money.

I know, it's not my company. But in a way, it is. The better I am at my job, the larger my contribution and the less I allow things like destruction of toys and furniture that were paid for by the company, the better we all do. Everyone wins when we all make a damn effort to keep expensive and inexpensive items from being destroyed. Those shitty little plastic chairs are about 50 bucks apiece.

The kids are, as usual, not under any kind of control, self control or adult control. If you've been reading here for awhile, you know I don't advocate controlling kids, I  would rather equip them with the skills to control themselves.

But most of the staff are, um, let me see.
There's an existing stereotype of a day care worker.
Low pay, low IQ, probably not smart enough for any other line of work.
This stereotype, like most others, exists for a reason.

I know there has been more than one occasion that I've responded to the question of what I do for a living and seen someone's perception of my IQ visibly drop about 20 points.

Not that I care too much, I do enjoy the work and I feel that I'm where I should be.

But we have a lot of 'professionals' who aren't clear on what needs to happen during a day care program. It's been that way everywhere I've ever worked.

This week, I was told to show up and be in a support position.

Meaning I don't have to deal with being in charge. No paperwork, no rosters, no head count forms, no answering the phone or the door. Very little clean up or other tasks, either.

I get to do my favorite part of the job.
Show up, hang out with the kids, play some games, help with whatever activity is planned, go home.

But there are no activities planned, at least not during the afternoons, which is when I am there.

As usual, not enough things for the kids to do even if there was a planned activity.

There aren't enough blocks or LEGO or magna tiles. Not enough games. Or rather, there are games, just not ones they want to play. There are a lot of boys. Most of them are bored and they get into trouble all the damn time.

But it's not MY job to tell them,  "Don't, don't, don't," unless they're doing something unsafe.

And speaking of unsafe. Before I arrived yesterday, one of the kids decided he was pissed off at another kid and ran away from the program. Right out the door. Fortunately, the other group of campers (the program is divided between the older and younger kids) were outdoors, the adults who were with them caught Mario and brought him back.

Was anything done about it? I actually don't know, it happened before I got there.
But he was still in the group when I arrived. Now you know I like kids. Otherwise this job would not be a good fit, because, well, the place is full of young humans.

Mario is shrill, whiny, angry and really good at being mean, sneaky and rude to the other kids. Although I care about him because that's what I do, I don't like him much. He's not a very nice person. He needs constant monitoring and redirection, sometimes every minute. No exaggeration.

Today I didn't get there until 2. The kids had just returned from a field trip. And guess who got mad and ran away again?
Yep.
Mario.

Only this time he ran out the doors of the field trip location and into the full-of-fast-traffic street. The location is just off the freeway, and people are in a hurry when they're passing by.
One of our staff went out and got him, and fortunately he wasn't hurt.

But because of the possibility of something bad happening and because it has apparently happened other times this summer, he's been asked not to come back to the program.

When kids do things like run away, it's not because they are a problem, it's because they have problems. It's not something we're equipped to deal with because none of us are qualified to be one on one with a special needs kid and our ratios don't allow one adult to be responsible for one child. It's sad because if he's not going to be in the program, his sister won't be able to attend, either.

One of the people I am working with at this program worked for the employer I  left in January this year. Evelyn wasn't my favorite person, although I never had to work with her.

On a summer field trip a few years ago, she had her little group cut the line in front of my kids at the prize desk as we were in our last 15 minutes at the place. And by the time my kids got to the desk, their tickets had expired and my kids didn't get their cheesy prizes. I made up for that by buying them all little LEGO knockoff cars and they had them the next day. But I'm still aggravated at how inconsiderate she was. Airhead with a dash of arrogance.

So she's running afternoons at camp.
She has lots of tricks in her repertoire.

She says things like, "Gregory! Am I  going to have to text your dad and tell him that you're not listening?"

Okay readers... why is that not a good way to deal with Gregory's behaviors?
I'll help.

• Gregory's dad doesn't work at camp.
• Evelyn, who can't get the kids to listen to her in the first place, just handed her authority to someone who isn't even there.
• Evelyn, who can't get the kids to listen to her in the second place, just handed MY authority and that of every adult who works at that site to someone who isn't even there by threatening the kid. She has no intention of texting his dad, either. So she's threatening a child with something she would never do.
  
  

Evelyn's not a bad person, but she's clueless.

"Jessica! If you don't stop that right now, I will have to have a talk with your mom when she comes to pick you up!"

Jessica, who has heard that one approximately 200 times this week, continues the behavior. She knows.

Evelyn's also really great at rewards.
Ughhhhh.
"Who wants to win a prize by helping clean up the LEGO?"
When she doesn't get a response, she puts on a fake disappointed face and takes a doleful tone. "I guess we won't get to advance our token today."

Then, the five kids who still give a shit about the dumb game will go clean up the mess made by other kids. So the kids who made the mess have no responsibility, the teacher succeeds in getting toys picked up, and more useless trinkets are handed out.

The token is advanced. Yippee.

There's some stupid 'game' board that they use to bribe and cajole kids into doing what should be done in the first place.

I'm not privy to what great prize they're going to get if they make it to the end of the game board, but most of the kids seriously don't care.
They aren't invested in the process.
Gee, I wonder why.

I know I've said this before, but I think it bears repeating.

If the children aren't listening after you've said something 20 times, it's not the kids who are having comprehension problems.

If a person is using a system of stars and trinkets and cheesy little prizes for kids, they're making a ton of work for themselves.

I've always had good luck with telling kids that it's time to clean up. If I observe reluctance or kids that aren't contributing to the effort, I remind them (as a group) that, "We all played there. It's up to us to take responsibility for the clean up."

If it's time to go outside or to the gym or some other transition, I make it clear that until our job is done, we won't be moving on. It does take some work to get everyone working together at first, but they catch on.

They catch on so well that I can say, "Time to clean up," and have them actually clean up! Without me standing over them or playing dumb games to get them to take responsibility.

Offering them a star to pick up the mess they made in the first place is one of the dumbest ways I  can think of to get results. Most of the kids hate  it. Many of them won't be manipulated like that, either. They are tired of the crappy, cheap little prizes and have figured out how to just... not.

This also contributes to the general attitude. They're bored, they act up, they don't care because there is no reason TO care. No one is invested in that stupid game except for the staff. And (here's  the stereotype again) The staff is  mostly too dumb to see just how much effort they're putting forth for a small return.

Keeping track of stars and tickets and who did what and rewarding everyone, even those who don't help in any way at any time with prizes at the end of the week after threatening NOT to... man, I hate that shit.

So I bring projects. I spend time at home, going through my boxes and boxes of supplies and looking up more ideas and making sure I have every single piece in the bag because gawd knows it probably won't be at the site. It's amazing, though. Things are much calmer when they have something to do with their hands! Shocking, I know.

I try to ignore the torrent of stupidity from the adults around me. Sometimes it's hard. So far, though, I have managed to avoid saying anything to my co-workers about how dumb I think they are. I know it won't help.

Usually I proofread and edit and fiddle around until I'm happy with my posts.
I did not do that this time. It's late, I'm tired (and apparently crabby) and I'm going to bed.

Car Troubles... and 'you just need to'

Got a call on Thursday last week from the repair place to remind me of my appointment to drop my little car off for repairs Monday at 10:30.
They requested I return the call.

I called back on Friday morning a little after 10 and confirmed my appointment and told them yes, I would need a rental car.

Showed up a few minutes early and when I finally found a place to park and went in, the girl behind the counter tiptapped on her computer, said, "Oh, it looks like we called you last week and you never called back. So we don't have your rental ready."

The fuck I didn't.

I said that I had, she looked like she wanted to roll her eyes.

I refrained from pulling the call up on my phone and making a big deal of it, but I'm still a little pissed off.

She said, "No big deal, they'll come pick you up."

They did, too. The guy showed up in a big fucking Ford truck, about 4 feet off the ground. I managed to get in, but now my left leg hurts. I did tell them that they should consider their clientele when they run their shuttle service, as not everyone is physically capable.

They gave me a ride to the rental facility where (surprise) they didn't have authorization from my insurance company yet. I called my agent, she told me that if I called I'd be on hold for 45 minutes, so she said she'd make the call for me and get it taken care of.

About 10 minutes later, they had the authorization.
I ended up with a Nissan Sentra. I hate it.

I do appreciate that it's not costing me anything. I appreciate that I won't have to miss work or depend on someone else to give me a ride. But it's aggravating, I don't know where any of the controls are for the heater or the defroster or how to change the station on the radio. It's hard to get in and out of the car, too. Built differently than mine.

I know, first world problems.

And all because I'm reliable and was trying to show up for work on time.

Now we know that it's pointless trying to show up, huh?

I got another email from work today.
Not going to bother responding, though.

I'll wait awhile and see if I want to.

I "just need to work a few mornings a week!"

You know, get up at 5, drive almost all the way to my regular school, work a couple hours in a program that isn't mine, then drive home again to sleep and then get up and go to work again.

For those of you saying I don't need to sleep between shifts, well yes, I do.

I am not physically able to do that shit anymore.
I'm not getting younger.

I've been assured of how terribly important I am, too.

"I hope you know we do value the program that you run. HR is auditing people's status as full time and part time and the classification only applies if you consistently work 30+ hours a week. Right now they have said for school age that would mean site staff that are working morning and afternoon".

I don't know yet how I want to answer.

I've decided to leave, even though I don't have something else lined up.
Unless they're going to continue to pay me vacation and holiday pay the way things are now, I am not going to stay.

I can't do it anymore. It's too much for me to work a split shift.

I didn't realize how really, really bad it was until I was able to sleep in the mornings instead of getting up at 5.

My doctor suggested it back in May, and I couldn't argue it. I suppose I could play that card... but I just don't want to.


Oh, and in case you're wondering, it doesn't matter when I go to bed. I'm just too fuckin' old for this.

Lost my shit.

In June of 2020, I was contacted by the then-principal of the school where I worked.

I was asked to remove all my program supplies from our space in the school.

His email said that *everyone* in the building, from counselor to SPED to custodial staff were being asked to remove anything that did not belong to the school district.

It wasn't like I was going to be able to refuse, ya know?
So I went to Lowe's and bought a bunch of boxes so I could go and get things out of there before a manager person went in and removed the rest.

I wasn't paid for the four hours or so I spent at the school, as I was not on the company payroll at the time.

I was told to get only my personal items... but the 12 packing boxes I brought weren't enough to get everything.

There were so many things there that belonged to me personally.
Two big bins half full of LEGO, one with Bionicles. Blocks and craft things and dollhouses and furnishings and specific punches and sport equipment.

Origami books and papers. All three of the first Perplexus designs.

Mazes you hold in your hand, they have little holes drilled in them, the object is to move the little ball along the path without the ball dropping into any of the holes.

I had yarn and string (no, they're not the same) and pony beads and paper edger scissors.

A bin with about 400 red plastic cups.

Marble runs.

Bunchems. Although when I looked for an image of them online, I learned that people are kind of dumb and kids are even more dumb (sometimes) and there were a TON of photos of the stupid things caught in children's hair.

I have used them for five years in various groups and never had an issue.

They look soft and squishy, but they're spiky plastic. They stick like velcro. The kids love to play with them, although they're not an activity that keeps their attention for more than a half hour or so.

So obviously almost everything that was in a bin came home with me, too. But I was assured that anything that was labeled with my name would be put in one place and that it would all be fine.

You already know that wasn't true. And I should have known, but I wanted to trust them. I also don't live in the world's largest house. Storing all that stuff for any length of time was problematic. I didn't know what was going to happen job-wise, I had no idea where I'd be working when schools opened again. I had a feeling that this shitty school district would pull the exact crap they pulled and I'd end up kicked out, too. I fucking KNEW it.

So my losses were large on several levels.

A whole huge bin of sporting equipment. Some of it belonged to my employer, but the bicycle pump and 5 amazing basketballs, regulation sized but lightweight, frisbee ring things and jump ropes. When I try to start typing out the list of all the stuff that's just gone, I get pissed off and emotional at the same time.

Emotional over the loss of my place at the local school.

Pissed off that my stuff is just gone.

Yeah, I have quite a bit of it here at home. And some of it has made it to my new locale, too. But until I have the place cleaned up I can't bring in the things that make my programs amazing, and until I have taught the kids there that they have to treat things with respect that won't happen anyway.

But there are still tons of things that will take time to replace. I have asked my employer to order several things, but I know I'm going to end up spending my own money again and I resent the shit out of that, too.

I'm emotionally drained right now, I'm tired physically from lack of sleep. I wake up at least three times every night with one aggravation or another upsetting me. I also wake up to pee. Often.

I had a hell of a few weeks. Finding out where I'd be running program. Trying to learn the new route, getting ready for Lyssa and Mason's reception, Bob's visit. I am emotionally wrecked over a bunch of stupid toys and items... but goddamn it, those things were *supposed* to be placed where they'd be saved for me. And it didn't happen.

 As I write this, we have just returned home from the airport where we dropped Bob off for his flight. It's 10 PM. We are up at 5.

Join with me now as I sing my current favorite, I'm An Angsty-Doodle Dandy.

I was right.

It should not be a surprise.
Being right is a thing I am usually good at.

I had to go to the office yesterday.
When the pandemic hit, our offices were in the process of moving. We had the entire main floor of our office building.
It was large, full of all kinds of stuff, disorganized and a little crazy.

In the fall when the orders for restocking sites came it, everyone's little office cubicles were stacked to the top with things like beanbag chairs and shelving units and boxes of LEGO. The supply room was bursting with markers and pencils and paperclips and pens and paper and a million other little things that most people needed to have a successful site.

So the effort was being made to consolidate the whole thing into half of the floor of the building and then the pandemic happened.
Suddenly we were closed.
Almost no one was working in our company.
Schools were shut down.

Well, now we're sort of ready to be back up and running. There are boxes and piles of stuff all over the office. It's one really big room, no dividers or cubicles, at least not yet. I don't know if there will be or if they're going to take advantage of the open space to make a big, friendly, everyone-in-your-business sort of environment.

Either way, I am so, so glad I am not part of it. I won't be collating papers, sitting in the middle of a wide open space where everyone can see everyone else.  I won't be making runs to Costco, I won't be driving to the office  EVERY day, either. Which is something I didn't actually consider when I decided to turn down the promotion. You'd think I would have thought about that, but nooooo.

Everyone there is very nice. They all seem to be comfortable with the level of chaos. Computers are hooked up, phones are being answered, everyone looks happy.

But there's no space to be alone.
No quiet spots.

The corner office, which does have a door and a big window, is occupied by three people, the next room over is a big conference room where several people have set up some sort of base of operations and where I sat with my manager person and the guy who used to run the program at the school where I have ended up. I sat there with them for over an hour, talking about the site, getting an understanding of the school's culture and discussing any possible child issues.

While we sat there talking, people had to come in and out gathering some papers and other things.

I learned that all our sites are moving on from the indestructable old flip phones that we used for years and years to brand new iPhones.

::sigh:::

I don't love Apple products, but I am sure we got a discount.
No one asked my opinion before taking the plunge.

I also learned that everyone will be getting a company email address so that people aren't using their personal emails. I'm sure there are good reasons for it, but I really don't want one. I wasn't consulted about that, either. (imagine that!!)

My impression of our new office is that it's chaotic and haphazard in some ways, organized and managed as it should be in other ways. They have paperwork done on time, children are placed ahead of profits, they respect the people who work there, pay them fairly and are appreciative of our efforts.

It's a great company to work for, but my heart is with the kids.

In other news, I drove up to my old school today and dropped off a couple cards and some candy for some of the people who were so wonderful to me there. Wrote some heartfelt words to them.

I got a 'thank you' email this evening from the school's counselor. She was, as usual, kind. She expressed my moving on as a loss for the kids and the entire school community. Made me a little weepy.

So school starts in Portland Public Schools a week from today. I've embarked on my last week of staying up late and sleeping in.

After talking to the former person who worked at my new school, I think it will be a great fit. I'll be meeting my supervisor person there on Monday so I can get a look at the space and think about what I will be bringing with me. I've planned a couple easy projects (we aren't sure when new supplies will be provided, so we will be depending on what's in stock at our respective schools) and I have the things I need here at home to take in *for* those projects. My kids won't be bored. Neither will I.

I do hate having to trade my six minute commute for a 20 to 30 minute one, but my choices are limited.

Except for no longer working in a familiar place, I think things will be okay.
I told the head guy that I did not want a supervisory position, that things in my personal life are too busy and too much is going on.

"I need a job I can do in my sleep, really. And I frequently DO this job in my sleep. My dreams are often filled with me taking care of kids... first aid and protecting them from monsters and doing craft projects. This is what I am meant to be doing. So thank you so much for the offer, but I want to continue doing what I do so well."

Speaking of sleep... nearly midnight.

ZZZ ya later.

Makin' phony calls

So earlier in the week, we talked about phones back in the old days.
One of the advantages back then was no caller ID.
Which made it much easier to do prank phone calls.

It was boring to do the ones our parents told us about.

Do you have Prince Albert in a can?

Is your refrigerator running?

LAME. Lame lame lame lame lame.

When I was 14 I spent the night with my best friend, Hollie. Thanksgiving week, which meant a whole week off from school.

Hollie had a cassette tape recorder that I coveted with all my heart. I had already asked my parents (repeatedly) for my own. Was hoping I'd get it as a Christmas present.

Ha, back in those days those WERE our electronics! No cell phones or video games and we certainly didn't have our own televisions or a VCR or DVD player. Not even Walkman had been invented.

So she had this cassette recorder.
She also had a math teacher she seriously disliked.
I never had him for a class, but I thought he was sort of an asshole based on what I'd heard from other kids.

So we got the bright idea to make a tape for Mr. Molnar.

We recorded someone 'going to the bathroom' but it wasn't really anyone going. We recorded a zipper going down, used the plunger to plop the water a few times, dumped in half a glass of water to sound like pee, unwound the toilet paper by smacking the roll a little. Said, "Ahhh." Flushed and zipped again.

It wasn't a long recording, maybe a minute or so. And around one AM she dialed his number and hit play.

He said hello, then listened to the entire recording before hanging up.

We laughed until we actually had to pee. Thought it was the funniest damn thing we'd ever done.

In retrospect, I have to give us points for creativity. And what kid doesn't think toilet humor is the height of wit?

Hollie said Molnar never mentioned it. She certainly never said anything to him about it.

I did get my cassette recorder for Christmas that year.
Found creative uses unrelated to toilets.

Next time, I'll try to explain one of the things we did after I got my tape player.

I'm ready to have things be finished. Really I am.

 

One of the reasons I try not to discuss political stuff unless I know someone pretty well is that so many people have a picture in their heads of what's real and right and are rabid when someone suggests a different viewpoint.

::sigh::

I've been chatting online with a group of women since 1998.
No, not a typo.
Way back in the days of AOL chat rooms and actual hosts, I hosted twice weekly chats in AOL's Homefront Hall, part of a forum dedicated to homeschooling.

We formed friendships based on common ground and 'watched' each other's children grow up and go on to their own lives. With the exception of two of us, everyone else is a grandma now, some of them have grandchildren who are 12 years old already. (insert obligatory 'wow, time flies' comment here)

And since my life is a series of digressions (gotta be the ADD way I do everything)... My own children have decided they don't want to have babies. I'm disappointed because I'd love to have grandchildren, but I've told my kids *multiple* times that having a baby 'cause your mom wants to be a grandma is  NOT a good reason to reproduce. Ha. I can't imagine smacking them over the head with it or showing any kind of disappointment.
I got to make my choices, I respect theirs.
Neither one arrived at the decision without a great deal of thought and discussion.
My kids are smart and capable.

I'd be a good grandma, though. Craft projects and cookie baking and really bad jokes. What's not to like?

So about those chat friends.
We had a great deal in common, but there were things we didn't agree on, too.
Politics and religion, the perennial favorites. Things like nutrition and being strict Vegan or eating whatever you want or (my personal philosophy pass the damn sugar) and curriculum (or no curriculum) etc. But there were so many things we liked about one another that long after AOL dumped their forums and chats we continued to catch up with each other once a week.

We've continued to do so. 22 years now that the four of us have stayed in touch. (Actually 5 of us, but one doesn't always manage to get to the chats, we all have lives and some are busier than others)

There have been marriages, divorces and grandchildren and cross-country moves. Job losses, loss of family members, financial difficulties, mental illness. We've supported each other through all of it, and some of us have even met each other in person.

Those 'imaginary friends' as my family has called them more than once, are as important to me as some of my friends who live nearby.
I am happy when something good happens for one of them, sad for them when things aren't going well. We text each other. Occasionally chat on the phone. I care deeply about each one of them.

Until recently, we've all managed to make it to our chats on Friday nights.

But one of my friends doesn't want to be there for awhile. She's not able to do political discussion without anger over the disagreements. I'm not actually certain about who she voted for, but she has so much going on in her personal life right now that any conflict is too much.

And it makes me sad.

I wish everyone could discuss issues instead of people.

I don't believe about half of the crap I hear from both sides. I know I'm not alone.

:::sigh:::

WHEN will this be over?

Yep.

 

I have nothing much to say regarding the election.
No point in it, really. No control over any of it, same as usual.

I have had some trouble sleeping, though.
So I decided last night that I'd take some Benadryl to help me sleep.

It did. I slept like a brick (with nightmares in its head) and woke up after nine hours. Of course there were three pee breaks in there, because of course there were.

And I've been hungover all day long.

I don't drink alcohol, haven't for more than 20 years, but in my teen years I had an alcohol-induced hangover once or twice. Apparently taking Benadryl wasn't a great idea. So I got up early-ish, didn't take a nap. Hoping that will help me sleep tonight.

So I've been reading things here and there. Trying to make sense by getting a more or less balanced picture in my mind.

And no more Benadryl.

Okay, off to make a meal and drink another bottle of water, which seems to be helping to flush the yuck out of my system.

I'm looking forward to when this shit is over.
Past time for the electoral college to be gone.

Zapppppp

Back in 2009 I had rotator cuff surgery.
Well, rotator cuff and bicep reattachment.

I'm sure you've heard about how painful shoulder surgery is. I'm here to tell you, everything you've read about it is meaningless compared to the actual critter.
Although the pain has long since faded, and the scars are tiny little white lines, the memory of the agony will probably never go away.

The ACL replacement was worse.
I've never felt anything so horrible.
For weeks.

Of course they didn't listen to me when I told them it wasn't right. By the time I got someone to listen and do an MRI, it was too late.

Part of my hamstring was taken to form a new ACL. Big old holes drilled in my knee, an extra large calcium based screw was added, none of it worked.

The graft failed.

Now there's nothing but bone in both knees.
No cartilage in either one. The right knee had to do a whole lot of extra work while I was laid up and recovering, and that one's been operated on, too.

I've been walking around on ruined knees for ten goddamn years.

I still send wishes that are literally dripping with hatred to the fuckfaced asshole work comp lawyer  (aka the man in the smeg-colored suit) and his ship of morally bankrupt fools whose job it is to shit on injured workers. Of course it's just my opinion that he is a fuckfaced asshole. He may actually be the Mother Theresa of work comp lawyers.

Can you imagine? Their only job is to further harm people who have already been hurt. They work really hard at it and they make a metric fuckton of money.

They make their living hurting people.

Much like politicians.

So yeah. I hurt all the time. I'm not alone, I know.
Many have it much, much worse. I'm grateful that I can still work and do stuff.

But right now, it's windy. It often is out here in the mouth of the gorge.
I'm not terribly fond of wind, it agitates me for some reason.

Also, when it's windy, my pain levels are much worse. Not enough aspirin and other stuff in the universe on some days. And if it's under 40 degrees and windy, it's really bad.

Even that is interesting, though. You know how I always say that everything is educational, right? It really is.

Which is why I have developed this theory.

You know your body runs on electricity, right?
You're nothing but a big battery.
Several interesting articles out there.
Google was helpful in my little search.

From this article:

Electricity is everywhere, even in the human body. Our cells are specialized to conduct electrical currents. Electricity is required for the nervous system to send signals throughout the body and to the brain, making it possible for us to move, think and feel.

So, how do cells control electrical currents?

The elements in our bodies, like sodium, potassium, calcium, and magnesium, have a specific electrical charge. Almost all of our cells can use these charged elements, called ions, to generate electricity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had months of physical therapy for both of those big injuries.
One of the more interesting and least-painless parts of therapy involved the use of a thing called an Acuscope.

It was explained to me briefly pre-surgery, and a couple weeks later after I'd been sliced and diced, the topic came up again.

Shawn, the PT guy, wheeled a big cart into the treatment room, plugged in the machine and asked, "Do you remember how this works?"

I told him that the human body runs on electricity. And that healthy tissue has a very specific electronic signature. When you hook up the acuscope, the electrodes that are attached where the healthy tissue is pick up that signature and mimic it in the injured tissue which is between the other electrodes. The idea is that the injured tissue will electronically change while the correct frequency is applied and eventually heal, hopefully faster than it would have otherwise.

He stared at me.
I thought I'd said something wrong or incredibly stupid.
So I said, "What?"
He said he had therapists on his staff that wouldn't have been able to explain it so well.
Apparently that was intended to be complimentary.

I do think the Acuscope was helpful in the healing process.

Okay, so back to my theory.

Have you ever seen a video of a big spark jumping between someone's hand and a vehicle door? Or a spark in the middle of the night when you're adjusting your blankets and you've built up a good static charge without even knowing it? Or, have you done it on purpose? My Aunt Jeanne and Uncle George had shag carpet back in the 70s and every time my brother and I were there for a family gathering, we stayed in our socks and chased each other around trying to zap.

When the wind blows here, it builds up a great deal of static. Getting into your car can be an adventure. At my school, the static came indoors. Our concrete floors were full of electricity. My larger rugs, when I was rolling them up, would often shock me. I could feel my hair standing up, and when I stood the rugs up to make sure the roll was tight, the static would discharge rather painfully through one of my big toes and into the floor.

So I think the static and other stuff generated by the wind plays holy hell with my body's electrical field. Which causes me more pain in my knees and other parts of my body. Mostly knees, though.

So this week is supposed to be warm and windy.
Guess I'll be hobbling around a little more than usual.

I ought to be glad the electricity leaves my hair alone.

:::sigh::: Dear Providence,

I received your letter informing me that you found the "care delivered by Dr. Ird appropriate".

Well that's special.

If tossing five different BP meds at me without checking to see how I was feeling in between is 'appropriate', then I'm gonna go with,  the standard of care you offer needs some work, guys.

But while I have your attention, oh team of investigators, ponder this:

When I originally contacted Providence, I didn't address anything that had happened at the clinical level or request any sort of investigation.

The investigation was initiated by the person I'd contacted at the hospital level.

So *I* didn't request any sort of evaluation of my doctor at that time.

No, I contacted Providence because of the utterly appalling experience/treatment that happened in the emergency department of the hospital.

I'm still stunned at how amazingly bad their 'care' is.
I wonder how many people have had their conditions made worse simply by going there? How many people have just died due to negligence?

My concerns ranged from the complete lack of safety protocols in the waiting room (masks dangling from the ears of the security guys while they looked at a phone and shared videos with their heads inches apart, laughing and chatting with a third person, this time a girl person who showed up and wasn't wearing HER mask, either) to the ridiculous attitude from the doctor? providing care for the people who'd gone there for help.

I was concerned about the person who was in need of immediate assistance, unconscious in her wheelchair, bent over at the waist, head lower than her knees. She was ignored and ignored and ignored by various staff until I finally pointed her out to one of the triage nurses.

It was an utterly horrendous experience, made worse by the ugly disregard for the humans who needed assistance in the middle of the night from almost everyone there.

I did not, at any time, ask to have my doctor's handling of my care at the clinic level investigated.

In fact, I said in the beginning that although I was disappointed that she had not listened to me regarding the possible effects of the heartburn medications on my blood pressure and that it took much too long for her to call me back with instructions on stopping the lethal BP meds, the real issue at the clinic level was how my care was handled while Dr. Ird was on vacation.

I was dismissed by the receptionist who answered the phone, and when I stood up for myself, grudgingly transferred to a nurse who, when told my blood pressure was 248/171 told me I was 'taking readings too often'.

I was patronized and condescended to and my LIFE WAS IN DANGER.

She should have immediately had me seek treatment, instead she just casually acted like nothing was wrong except that I was checking my blood pressure more than she wanted me to.

In the case of the receptionist, I'd call it a training issue. Possible burnout, I'm sure her job is overwhelming during the best of times. But her tone was unmistakable.

In the case of the nurse, I'd call it gross incompetence and a serious breach of Providence's contract to provide care. My life was endangered and she wanted to quibble over how often I was checking my blood pressure.

So thanks for the letter about my doctor, but that wasn't the whole issue.
I'd like to know that the person answering the phone is going to work on that patronizing tone in her voice and just, you know, do her job.

Further, I'd like to know why someone who's a trained nurse just brushed off the dangerously high blood pressure as too-frequent-measuring.

Until you've done that, you haven't actually investigated.

Doing something

I know I'm not the only person who's been feeling helpless/hopeless.
This is not a good time for a lot of people.

I probably don't need to tell you that since you are (probably) a people, too.

Although I don't know, perhaps green and scaly monsters from Venus read my blog. Raise your hand if you're a monster?

Yeah, I see you. I had wondered but didn't feel comfortable commenting.
Go ahead and put your hand down.

Anyone else?

Oh. I thought so.

Okay. So things are really tough right now for a lot of us.

People are having trouble feeding their families.
Paying the rent or the mortgage.

When it comes to extras, like a bicycle for a growing child, or a birthday present for a little guy, people just don't have it. They're lucky if they've had three meals today, the power is still on and they have clean clothes.

So now let's add current events.
Not the plague, which is what put quite a few of us into the perpetual too much month at the end of the money, but politics.

I have seen a lot of ugliness in elections. Ever since I was old enough to vote I've paid attention to what's going on.

The lies and the ugliness and the complete moral bankruptcy of our "representatives' just make me ill.

But I've never seen anything as bad as this year's campaign.
Lying assholes, using adversity to score points against their opponent, unable to recall facts or speak coherently for any length of time, willing to say or do anything at all to hold that big stick.

And that goes for both sides.
None of them are worth a shit.

Do I hate some of them more than others?
Yep, sure do.

My feelings about them and their fitness for the positions with which they've been entrusted aren't very charitable, I'm afraid.

You've heard it all before anyway, and not just from me.
Many incredibly eloquent people have said what I'm thinking, only in better words.

What can we do?

Not a lot.
I suffer through at least 10 exhortations to VOTE every damn day. It's on the news, it's on social media, it's on the blogs I read.

And for the same reason that hundreds of thousands of people still pretend to believe in a god and go to church every Sunday (just in case it matters) I do vote.

Do I believe voting makes a difference?

No, not really.

Different people sit on their useless and arrogant asses in offices and pretend they belong there, and shit on different groups according to who their party hates the most. None of them have any integrity or capability of independent thought.

In a broad sense I will agree that my vote *could* make a difference if enough people thought the same way I do on things, but since most of the time the person I voted for doesn't get elected and the things I don't want to see happen keep happening, I'm not terribly confident.
Very little ZERO faith in the system.



Over the years I've listened to a lot of discussions between my work kids. Four years ago, although they were divided, they were able to sit down and discuss the candidates both before and after the election like rational human beings, something that the adults had a problem with.

Our conversations always lead to the same conclusion(s).

We can't control what happens in government.
We can't keep our "representatives" from doing dishonest and harmful things.

This discussion, from 2016, was particularly productive.
We talked about what we CAN do, not about feeling helpless and not being able to do anything with meaning. It was about taking charge of our own spaces and being kind. Being decent. I am tired of overused words such as mindful, but I think it fits here.

If you see something you can do to make someone else's life be better, even if it's only for a little while, then DO it.

I try to keep that in front of me.

Ordinarily if I'm able to do a little something to help, I just do it without comment. It's not about me. The small things I do are usually anonymous if I can manage it, and I don't write about them here.

But I was considering that this afternoon.
I'm not working right now, so these philosophical questions aren't being asked or discussed with 'my' kids in our little group.

I have had some discussion with other adults lately, and I'm sad to say that they're all going through some awful stuff right now. I'm definitely not alone.

I've said before that I will never have a huge amount of money, never be able to make huge, splashy donations. I'd be uncomfortable with people commenting about it anyway.

But I know from experience that doing small things can make me feel better.

So I've decided that YOU would probably feel good if you could help someone, too. This is why I will break one of my rules and tell you about something I did today. A small act of kindness.

On our local buy nothing group, a mom asked if anyone had some used Transformer toys to give her little boy for his upcoming birthday. He's going to be five, and those are his favorite thing.

I asked if I could message her. While I was waiting for her response, I visited Amazon and found a couple really cool things I know my own five year old would have loved.

She messaged me, and I sent her the link. Asked her if he'd like them, or would she rather find a different set around the same price. She was stunned, as that was the exact thing he'd chosen for 'later' because she'd explained to him that his birthday present wouldn't be on his actual birthday because money is tight right now.

I told her if she wasn't comfortable giving me her address I'd have it sent here and we could meet in the grocery store parking lot.

She gave me her address and I had the package sent to her.

It's a small thing to me, but we had quite a conversation after I told her the package would be there Monday.

Right now in her house they have one adult working. The other adult lost their job in March. They've kept the lights on and the mortgage is only a month behind. But there was no extra money. She said he was so sweet about it, "That's okay, Mommy!"

And she's having a baby in 3 months.

So I felt okay about that small gift.

It inspired me to write about it and to challenge all of you to do one good thing for someone.

It doesn't have to be big.
You don't have to write about it.
You don't even have to let me know you've done it.

I just wanted you to know that even in the middle of this horrendous political mess, in the middle of the pandemic, in the middle of the worst feelings of my life at least, there are things we can do to feel better.

The reaction of that mom made my heart very full.
I hope her little guy has a wonderful birthday.

I didn't ask who she's voting for. I don't know anything about her other than what we discussed. Those things don't matter, she's a fellow human, having a difficult time.

Do you know of someone who could use a little boost?

Doctor Doctor

 Well.

I got the medical equivalent of 'I'm sorry you feel that way'.

She was 'sorry you didn't feel heard'.

To which I answered, "No, I didn't 'feel' that way, that was exactly what happened. I wasn't listened to here at the clinic or in the ER. No one gave a shit about what was going on, no one called me to see how I was later, no one seemed to understand the meaning of a medical emergency. Those aren't feelings, those are facts."

She wanted to know why I think my BP is down, why I haven't had so many migraines, why I'm feeling so much better.

Um, really?

So I told her I'm pretty sure the heartburn medication I was taking wasn't good for me. I said that was the first example of not being listened to.

I told her a little about the hospital visits and told her about my efforts to get someone to listen to me at the clinic while she was on vacation. I think she believes that since she wasn't there it had very little to do with her, but that's not true. She was the very first one to refuse to listen to me or consider that the heartburn medication was causing me problems.

I have a reputation for being good with words, and if you only know me from here, it's understandable for you to think that way. I write, I edit, I change things, I write and edit some more. I mess with it until it says exactly what I wanted to say.

There are times I come back a week later and fix something.

Occasionally an error gets past me and I have to fix that, too.

So I have control over writing, and can take as long as I want to.
Not the same in a personal conversation.
Dammit.


When I'm in the middle of a situation, it's hard for me to think quickly enough to have answers ready, sadly. Most people will say the same, when they look back at an event they say, "Oh I should have said _____." Or, "Why didn't I tell her ______?"

I managed to say a little, but not enough.
I just didn't have it in me today.

It didn't help that the early morning hours (3 to 6-ish) were filled with a huge thunderstorm, complete with flash after flash of lightning. I  couldn't stay asleep longer than a few minutes, and when Eric got up to go to the bathroom, I woke up again. 
So like 8 times in a 2 hour period. After not managing to fall asleep until close to midnight.

Ugh.

A large part of the problem with Providence is what they expect of the people who work there, from custodial staff all the way to doctors. They expect them to do more than is reasonable and instead of improving the situation by adding more staff they're nasty to people who can't complete all the work that's expected of them and they get discouraged and they quit.

Not only did I lose Dr. Dirtball, but more than one friend/acquaintance couldn't take the BS anymore and left. I've known at least five through my work (parents of my kids) who had a whole lot to say about Providence and the working conditions.

I could have said a lot more, but I'm okay with how things ended up.

My prescription is filled, I have an appointment with a different doctor in a few weeks and I'll see if I like her.

Just when you thought it was over...

You're not going to believe this.
Or maybe you will.I admit to being a little shocked.
Well, not really.
Since the whole thing has been crazy from start to now.

But in the mail yesterday was a bill from Providence for... wait for it...
SIXTY FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS.Yes, that's right.

I don't have medical insurance according to their records.

Since I'm sure their record keeping is on par with everything else they do, I guess all I can do is roll my eyes.

So I sent an email to the HR person at my job last night after the bill showed up.

"Hey Lisa,
Could you please verify that my coverage under COBRA began on July 1st this year?"

I waited until 11 this morning to hear back from her, she's usually very prompt. When she didn't call, I called her instead.

She told me she'd called Providence first thing this morning. She said they'd told her they 'have no record' of payment for me from our organization, although everyone else's has been accepted.

"Huh," she said. "It's odd that of all the paperwork I've sent in, yours didn't go through."

"Oh it's not odd at all," I told her. "Considering how they're running stuff at Providence, it's not odd at all."

Then I filled her in a little on what's been going on.

There were several, "Oh my gods," and a couple gasps.

She told me to stop worrying about the insurance issue, that she'd take care of it and let me know when it was handled.

So sometime in 2024, I'm sure the bill will get settled.

I've also asked my local friends for a doctor they'd recommend if they're stuck at Providence.

I heard from a former co-worker and she highly recommends her doctor.
Her doctor is also a girl-type person (super important to me) and very good at listening.

She told me that Dr M was the first medical person who'd ever actually listened to her and worked to give her a proper diagnosis. I won't tell her secrets here, they're really not mine to tell, but I can tell you that she's in better health right now than she has ever been thanks to a doctor who listened and conducted the appropriate tests instead of evaluating her by her appearance.

What a novel idea.

I know that the not-very-large amount of trust I had placed in my doctor is just gone. 

I don't want to see her again except to read her a letter I'm working on.
I want her to know exactly what happened to me both at the clinic and hospital level. 

And while she doesn't bear 100% of the responsibility for all of it, she didn't call me back to let me know how to get off the medication that was fucking killing me for THREE GODDAMN DAYS.

And yes, I know she has a lot going on, that her employer expects a great deal from her... but she deals in life and death situations and she didn't give a shit what I needed or how I was feeling.

I don't need to be her number one priority, but I do expect respect.
And I didn't get that.
Over and over and over I didn't get that respect I deserve.
 
I now have zero confidence in her ability or wish to help me if I ever have a serious issue again.

So I'm calling for an appointment with my friend's provider as soon as Providence gets the goddamn insurance mess straightened out. It's still a Providence facility, (can't escape that) but it's about a half hour drive. If I get a doctor who actually gives a shit, it's worth it.

I can at least meet her and see what I think, right?

Meanwhile, SIXTY FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS.

Bullshit. Just bullshit.