Don't mess with me...

I had a lovely chat with the girls' assistant principal this morning.  (It would have been with the principal but she's out until next week.)  I explained to her how rude and condescending their registrar had been with me yesterday about obtaining records for my kids to hand-carry to their next school (4th for the soon-to-be 5th grader and 2nd for the one going into 1st grade).  I went on to tell her that the registrar had initially informed me that they didn't give out copies of records.  Then she backtracked and said that if they did, they'd have to charge for them.  I told her I'd be happy to pay for the copies.  Then she said that it was too "time-consuming," she'd be gone for 2 weeks after school let out, and that it would be mid-July before she could get to it. 

Um.  No. 

I checked the policy and they are required to provide me with copies of anything in my kids' records that I ask for within 30 days of my request.  Oh, and I don't really care how inconvenient it might be for her to do her job.

The Girls Night Out that wasn't

Following the kids' and my month-long trek across the southeastern corner of the U.S., I convinced our hostess at our last stop to follow us home. Her husband is gone for the summer and it kept our kids busy with each other. Plus, I selfishly wanted to spend more time with my friend whom I hadn't seen in almost 5 years.

On her last day here, Stretch called home in the morning and offered a Girls' Night Out (GNO) to us and promised to be home early enough to make it happen. I was ecstatic and looked forward to it all day. Since he would be clearly outnumbered by the 5 kids, I had dinner ready for them when he came home. Everything was set for us to get out of Dodge.

Because Stretch was parked behind me (and my vehicle was in the garage), we drove his vehicle. We drove away without a care in the world, trying to decide what we should do. We were positively giddy with the freedom of it all.

Then we made our first stop. It should have been a quick one. But when we returned to the car, it wouldn't start. Now this car is only 2-1/2 years old. We just replaced all 4 tires. And now it refused to start. We pulled out the owner's manual, trying to figure out what the problem was. We tried suggestions multiple times, in case we were doing something wrong. Nothing. Finally, we called Stretch. He and the kids were just finishing dinner. So he loaded them all up and drove to us. (We weren't far.)

After trying to jump the thing, we decided that I'd take the kids and my friend back to our house while Stretch continued to work on the car. Now, my friend and I hadn't eaten yet. So I started to heat up the remnants of dinner when we returned to the house. Before I'd gotten very far, Stretch called and wanted me to return with my car so we could try to jump his again.

Just before I pulled up, Stretch had dropped a tool in the engine. And it was stuck somewhere under the battery. That's about how the evening was going. After another jump attempt, Stretch decided to remove the battery and take it somewhere to test it. That's when he lost part of another tool. This time in the back of his car.

He took me back to the house, picked up more tools and returned to pry the battery out of his car. About an hour later, Stretch called again to say he was on his way to pick me up so we could retrieve his car. Apparently, the battery had to be replaced.

So Stretch got kudos for wanting to give us a GNO. But the gremlins got the last laugh (Hello! He's not even gone this time!)

It must be Monday...

... or Another Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day...

I thought I was starting the day out well. After taking Big Sis to school, L'il Sis and I returned home where I replaced a couple of dead plants with live ones in front of our house. Then, we headed out to the neighborhood clubhouse and it's workout room. I hadn't darkened it's doors in quite awhile so it was a momentous occasion for me. So far, so good. Right?

Not so fast. Things started heading south in the afternoon. Here are just the highlights: I discovered the transponder that gets my car in the gates of our neighborhood wasn't working. Hmm. Then I found out it was because our landlord had neglected to tell the HOA that we had renewed our lease. Deep breath.

While reviewing our travel plans for the next month, I discovered I'd signed the girls up for the wrong week of VBS. Hopefully, I can get this changed. Otherwise, my drive across country with the girls will be anything but leisurely (which was the original plan... slow and leisurely, dammit!).

Then, I took L'il Sis to her last dance class, which is already fraught with stress because the recital is next weekend and these little girls really don't know this dance. But today, L'il Sis managed to get her hand squashed in a door right before her class started. So she was crying. (Justifiably so.) One mom ran out to her car to get a cold bottle of water. We held that against her fingers for a bit. Her fingers looked to be fine but I'm sure they hurt like the dickens. Then the dance teacher came back with some ice. L'il Sis really needed to learn this dance, so I convinced her to go into the room to at least watch the other girls. She eventually joined the class but not until more than half-way thru the class. I still had to sit on the floor of the class, though, and couldn't go back to the lobby area with the other moms. Stretch came by, picked up Big Sis and went in search of dinner. Because at this point, obviously, my plan of dropping L'il Sis off at the studio, going back home to make dinner, and then having one of us pick her up was not only shot, it was dead in the water. [Oh, the fingers were just fine. At the end of the class, they turned off the regular lights and turned on the colored stage lights and L'il Sis perked right up.]

By this point, I was feeling more than a little frustrated. Then Stretch and Big Sis got home with dinner. Fast food. But, wait, was that a salad by my place? Not just a salad. It was my favorite Oriental Chicken Salad (not from the same place as they'd gotten their dinners). He even noticed that I'd started ordering it with grilled chicken. He'd made a special trip to get my salad because he felt bad for the day I'd had. Oh, and because he loves me. Yes, I'm lucky to have him.

Maybe I won't move to Australia after all. They have bad days there, too.

Ms. Fix-it

As a military spouse, I understand that I'm often the go-to person at home. I'm usually the one to either fix things or to get it done by someone else (not Stretch usually). But when Stretch is home, I have an irrational belief that he should step up and do some of those projects. After all, his father taught shop at one point and is often working on something around the house. This gene must have completely bypassed Stretch, though.

For weeks, we've had a leak that has gotten worse around our water filter attached to our kitchen faucet. I've pointed it out numerous times. Twice, Stretch took a cursory look and basically shrugged before walking off and doing nothing.

I finally had enough and while Stretch was off on a short trip this week, I bought another filter system and replaced the leaking one. There might have been another (cheaper) fix, but it's done and no longer bothering me.

If I manage not to say anything about it, I wonder if he'll even notice?
Update: He noticed, but it probably had something to do with the fact that the new filter wasn't exactly the same as the old one.

not impressed

We knew coming to this state that the schools weren't considered great. I'd started to feel better about our area as I researched schools. The elementary school Big Sis is enrolled is just received an "A" rating from the state. I don't really know what that's supposed to mean, other than it's supposed to be an indication that it's a good school. Maybe the caveat should be "for this state." Two weeks into the school year and I am not impressed.

First, Big Sis has been complaining that they don't get recess. What? Third grade and no recess? My mother-in-law (retired teacher and principal) pointed out that x number of hours was required by state law in their state. Turns out it is here, too. So, what's the problem? Overcrowding and lack of space, apparently. The school currently has over 1100 students and they just don't have enough outdoor space (especially with shade -- it is still hot and muggy here) for all the kids to get recess. Supposedly, it is a priority and they are "working" on it.

Second, Big Sis brought home a flyer yesterday for after-school Spanish classes. It would be once a week and cost $195. What?! They don't have any foreign language instruction during the school day. Big Sis has had Spanish since Kindergarten during the regular class day. While we were overseas, she received some instruction in Korean as well as a daily class in Spanish. The last school she attended was in coastal Carolina. We are now in South Florida. Which area has a more obvious need for Spanish instruction?

Oh, to be back in a DoDEA school!

update on deployment gremlins masquerading as contractors

I'm quickly losing the capacity to be civil.

When people tell you that they will call you no later than ___ with information, shouldn't they do so? Especially when that information involves when they will be making pertinent repairs to your home? I would think so. However, the contractor responsible for repairs to my house failed to call me Wednesday until after 5:30 p.m. (AFTER I'd left a voicemail for him asking for the information). At that time, he left a voicemail saying he wasn't sure if they'd be here Friday (today) or Monday but he would let me know. Guess what? No phone call. I left a terse message on his voicemail this morning. Then I spoke to the maintenance supervisor. Mr. Contractor just called acting offended because he called and left a voicemail for me after my voicemail to him on Wednesday. I interrupted him and pointed out that in his message he said he would call back to let me know whether it would be Friday or Monday. He paused, realized his mistake, and apologized. His tone quickly went from one of umbrage to one of retreat with his tail between his legs.

Now, much as I love being right, I'd love this problem being resolved even more!

When it rains...

A couple of months ago, we had a heavy rainstorm. The next morning, I found that our back wall was literally crumbling away. I contacted the maintenance department (we live in privatized base housing). Several people came by to look at it over the next several weeks (yes, I said "weeks" not "days"), including 2 different sub-contractors. After over 3 weeks of this, I was pretty fed up and physically went to the leasing office. While I was there, they were trying to reach me because the contractor was at my house to do the repairs. No one had bothered to tell me they were coming! So the repairs were made and completed just in time for in-laws to visit. They finished the work in the afternoon. My in-laws arrived at dinner-time. Let's not cut it too close, guys. This wouldn't have been a sticking point except the guest room is right across the hall from the door in the picture!

By the way, the first picture is the baseboard on the wall that needed replacing. See that huge hole in it? I was told they would fix that by filling it with caulk. I replied that wasn't going to do it for me and that the baseboard needed replacing. I said this to at least 2 men. I got another baseboard.

So contractors fixed our back wall near the back door (inside and out) as well as the roof a couple of weeks ago. Well, it rained yesterday. Hard. There was a waterfall where our backdoor is supposed to be. See the picture.


Then the windowsill was completely wet. I took pictures to document it all. Then I printed the pictures and took them down to the leasing office this morning. The ladies there were pretty aghast at the sight. Especially since they knew this was an ongoing problem. One of them remembered me from the last time I was in there about the wall. So, around noon, 2 of the ladies from the leasing office, the work order manager, the area maintenance supervisor, and the contractor all converged on our house to see and discuss.

Later, a maintenance man brought a dehumidifier that is now plugged in and draining into the downstairs shower. It is currently blocking the back door. Hopefully, it will only be here for a couple of days. He also fixed the powder room toilet (again). And looked at the cracked stair (again) and will be ordering a replacement. When that gets here, he'll replace the stair and caulk the others. Is caulk the new duct tape?!

The contractor is supposed to call me tomorrow to let me know when they will be back to do yet more work on the roof and back wall area (on the outside this time). If I don't get that call, I can assure you that I will be making some phone calls of my own! Hell hath no fury as a milspouse in an unsat house with small children and a deployed husband.

I joke that the house is falling down around my ears but sometimes I wonder if the joke isn't on me! But then, hubs is deployed, so, OF COURSE, all this is happening. See all the fun he's missing?

warning: rant ahead

Let me preface this by saying that July has been a difficult month for me (yes, I know it's not over yet!). There are several reasons for this. It's our anniversary month and we're not even on the same continent. We are 5 months into this deployment and this is the month I've really hit a wall. Maybe it's because I really want to get into homecoming mode but homecoming is so far away I can't even see it! Even R & R seems a long way away (and will be over much too fast). Maybe it is the anticipation of R & R and how hard it will be when he leaves again to finish the deployment. Maybe I'm just ready for school to start again. Whatever the reason, this is really not the month to try my patience with foolishness. Okay, my family and friends will probably say there's never a good time for that. I admit it; stupidity really gets on my nerves. So you've been forewarned. Proceed at your own risk.

At the end of the month, my sister and her family (including 4 kids, 3 of whom are not yet school-age); my mom and stepfather; my 2 kids and I are all going to a beach house. We're celebrating my mother's birthday and spending time together. As we are so spread out, we don't get the chance to all be together often. Keep this in mind.

A woman at my sister's church overheard her talking about our plans. I'll call her Ima (you can fill in the last name yourself). Later, she contacts my sister and gives her a sob story about losing her mother last year, who was apparently also her babysitter. Ima goes on to say that she and her family will also be at the same beach and that it will be their wedding anniversary. It would be such a blessing if my sister could watch her 2 kids for them so they could get a night to themselves. They haven't had a night out since her mother became sick. Oh, and she'd only expect my sister to watch her kids for 5 hours!

My sister tried a tactful approach by saying that she didn't think it would be a good idea as we'd be taking mom out for dinner one night. Not taking the hint, Ima said another night would work for them as well. The nerve! Ima said it would be such a blessing for her and her husband to get to spend an anniversary just as a couple. My sister pointed out that it was my anniversary month, too, and my husband is deployed to a war zone so I spent it without him. At any rate, Ima kept persisting despite my sister telling her no.

Who does this? I can't imagine intruding into another family's vacation in this way. Or another family's reunion. And the nerve of her, trying to guilt a virtual stranger into babysitting for her by telling her what a blessing it would be. My sister wisely refused to give me Ima's phone number. She knows I'd give Ima an earful of blessings.

Her royal crankiness

I haven't posted in awhile so thought it was about time. However, there isn't much to write about except how crotchety I've become. So... You've all seen that sign: "I can only please one person a day. Today is not your day. Tomorrow doesn't look good either." Let's just say you may as well write off the whole next year! It started around the time my Marine deployed (for a year!) right after we moved from Asia to North Carolina (no culture shocks there). Then, there was the episode at the Exchange parking lot: I was getting my 2-year old out of her carseat when 2 Marines walked by in all their blue verbal glory. Now, there was a time when I wouldn't have said anything or I would have agonized about what to say. This day, there was no thinking, only reflex. I shot out of the side of my minivan and snapped, "Hey! Watch your mouth!" Then, when the offending Marine mumbled, "Sorry, ma'am" instead of thinking, "Ma'am? I'm not old enough to be a ma'am," I thought, "Damn straight, you better call me "ma'am," you little heathen." I guess it's true, as my older daughter keeps reminding me, I'm just a mean old woman.