It's amazing how much has changed from one school year to the next. This year I am officially the mother of a high schooler! I know, scary, right? This year all of my children are in three different schools. This will never happen again. I have one in high school, one in middle school and one in elementary school. And I couldn't be prouder of all three of my little snowflakes.
My son started marching band in high school. He is officially taller than me now by at least a couple of inches. In fact I have started feeling a little awkward reaching up to hug him. What happened? He was always in top band in middle school, and now, in high school, he is also in the top band as an incoming freshman! Quite an accomplishment for my little man. And a little man is definitely what he is becoming. He has started to get all the mood swings typical with being a teenager. It is exhausting to stay on top of it, but I tell you now that it is well worth it. My son is still respectful, polite, happy, funny and charming. Most days. He still has his dark side. Like all kids, he is still pushing his limits and trying to see what he can get away with, which isn't much. And like all kids, learning to drive is most prevalent in his mind. Eek!
My eldest daughter started seventh grade this year, so this isn't her first rodeo. She is coming very close to passing me up on the height scale, too, but I should point out that it isn't very hard to do. This year she was much more concerned about her hair. Oh, her precious hair! This summer she wanted to dye it blue and we tried to do it with Kool-Aid but her hair is very dark and it didn't show up very well. Then we tried it with a temporary hair color and it still didn't show up very well. Now she wants to just dye her hair a different, but normal hair color. I keep trying to explain to her that with dark hair there is only so much we can do. So right now we're settling on straightening her wavy locks each morning before school. Today's freak out was over a tiny little pimple on her forehead. I didn't even see it until she pointed it out, but apparently it was huge! Like, gigantic! At least she's not chasing boys. More like she's busy bossing them around. She doesn't put up with much BS from anyone anymore, not since learning the hard way what makes a good friend. She leaves chasing the boys to my youngest.
My youngest is in her last year of elementary school and couldn't be in more of a hurry to grow up. She frequently has conversations with her BFF about which boys they have crushes on (tee hee) and which boys are just gross (blech). She has most recently taken to stealing her older sister's sports bras and wearing them to school, much to big sis' displeasure, because, you know, she doesn't even need them. But as I have to remind big sis, the whole reason she has the sports bras to begin with was because she was so desperate to wear a bra just like all her little friends were. And that is just what my youngest is doing. As to the boys? I finally had a sit down with my baby girl about chasing boys. We reached an understanding that boys can wait, education is her main priority right now. Let's hope she keeps that in mind for a very long time.
I'm excited for this year. I am very involved in my son's band program. I was in band and loved it. I'm looking forward to my oldest daughter's choir concerts. My youngest daughter is usually pretty involved with student council and might be again this year, we'll have to wait and see. I hope all of you have a fantastic school year!
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Car Trouble in Paradise
Before this story even begins, it must be perfectly understood that we were down to one working car for the time being. My husband's car, a completely paid off Toyota, was in the shop getting a new transmission. So he was bumming rides to and from work while I was on vacation with the kids in not-so-sunny Galveston in the not-so-paid off Honda....
Now the story begins...
The week that "historic" Tropical Storm Bill was to make landfall on the Texas gulf coast I was in fact on the Texas gulf coast. No, I'm not crazy. I'm a local. It was the week of my mom's birthday and we were celebrating it, as we always do, in Galveston. A little rain wasn't going to scare us off.
On the way to their beach house, a little light came on on the dashboard in my Honda. I didn't think much of it, other than the fact that I should probably get it checked out before Bill made landfall. So I went about my way. I made it safely to my parents' little hideaway and didn't have cause to start the car again until the next day.
I was secretly hoping that this would be one of those cases of the disappearing dash lights. You know, when it comes on for no good reason and then disappears for no good reason, too. But alas, it was not meant to be. The darn thing was still on. So we went to the beach.
And that was one of the best times I have had at the beach in a long time. The waves were choppy and rough and perfect for playing in with my daughters. My son was being a bum and chose not to go. Ever since last month when his teen-aged hormones dictated that he is (and I quote), "not a beach person." It was truly his loss. I think the water even seemed a little clearer that day. I know that the chief complaint about our part of the gulf is its murky brown color, but I still love it. The tide was high, the water was cool and we beat the storm.
When I returned to the house I decided to take the car in to Autozone for a free check out before the rain really started. At this point we had only been subjected to a few very brief showers. My son and my oldest daughter volunteered to keep me company and we made our way through crowded, lunch-time streets to Autozone.
They were super friendly and I wish I could remember their names, but at any rate, they didn't judge me on my lack of car expertise. The woman in the shop came out and ran the check engine test on my car. Nothing. No codes. My car was in tip top shape. Turns out that when the light that comes on on your dash looks like a battery, it's the "It's Your Battery Dumb Ass" light and not the "Check Engine" light. Oops.
I thanked her kindly and promised to get a new battery as soon as I got back home.
But the cards were stacked against me. I got back in the car, with my two lovely children, and click. Click. CLICK. I got nothing. The battery died in the parking lot of the Autozone. I guess it was meant to be. So in I marched, kids in tow, again, and this time I bought a battery.
We had to wait a really long time to have it installed because the gentleman that installed it couldn't leave the lady alone in the store with a bunch of customers. And wouldn't you know it? That seems to be when they hit their rush hour. For close to an hour the kids and I sat in the parking lot and waited. But once it was finally done it seemed as though it was all tip top shape. Right? Wrong. The gentleman helping me ran a final check on the battery and oh, so apologetically informs me that it's not the battery that's the problem, it's my alternator.
But will I make it home to the Houston area?
You should.
Great. That's all I need to know.
So I go back home to the beach house and we get rained on by Bill. Actually we spent most of it out on the porch, drinking and visiting. The rain was only a nuisance at night when it was heaviest and the wind kept waking me up.
Six months ago I had made a commitment to my long time friend, Ed Vela, who coaxed me out of retirement for one night only to appear on stage as part of a workshop. So I had to come back in town on Wednesday to help him out with that. Between talks with my husband and friends we had come up a first, second, third, contingency and back-up plan to get me back home. I had also secured a ride to the theater that night (once I made it home) to further lessen the need to drive. Wednesday morning rolls around and by 8:45 I am off.
My mom follows me to a gas station where I top off my tank. It would suck to get almost all the way home with a bad alternator just to run out of gas. Then I kiss her good-bye and we part ways. I'm driving and I'm driving. No radio, a/c, lights, nothing. Then I hit a red light. My hands are literally shaking I am so nervous. But I make it through that light. On to the next one. Each light it seems that my poor car is struggling more and more to get through the idling. Finally I think that it's going to die. I'm in the left lane (because I-45 is a left exit) so I get in the left turn lane to turn into a parking lot and that's where I die.
It won't start. No lights. No nothing.
I put on my big panties and call my husband, Victor. But as soon as I hear his voice - waterworks. He keeps asking me if I'm okay but I'm crying so hard that I can't answer. Finally I manage to get out, "I.. can't... get... off... the... island." He works his magic and gets me to calm down despite the asshole behind me, blaring his horn, refusing to go around. He reminds me of what I'm supposed to do next and gets me to do it one deep breath at a time.
Call roadside assistance from the number on the back of my license, call our friend Jeremy to come have me towed and call my mom to come keep me company. Roadside assistance gives me the number of Galveston Police Department and Jeremy and my mom are on their way. I flip on the hazards (even though everything is dead) and leave the car where it is. I go across to the parking lot, because if someone hits me from behind I don't want to get hurt. That's where I sit on a bench with the homeless people. They ignored me but I was very chatty and I think one of them was a woman.
I keep calling GPD but their number was eternally busy. Finally I see a cruiser passing by and try to flag him down. He pulls up behind my poor car, whose hazard lights have magically started working. I'm shouting at him, "That's my car!" He nods and says that he saw me. He waves me over to his side of the street where I tell him my whole story, big girls panties barely hanging on. He says I did everything right but that I had the wrong number for the police department. Guess I should have Googled it. And then we push my car to the parking lot I had been aiming for the whole time. I gave Officer Shepherd a give hug and thanked him profusely.
By now, my mom has witnessed me acting a fool in front of the GPD, seen me get stranded and had to leave the kids home alone, so she took me to breakfast and window shopping while we waited for my friend. When Jeremy got there, she was able to go back to the house to reassure the kids I was in good hands.
Jeremy was able to help me out by getting me towed back to Houston and take me home. At first the tow truck was coming at 12:05. Then it was 1:05. Then it finally came at :1:40. We finally left Galveston around 2:00. I had to be back by 4:00 to go to the theater. I got home at 3:40. Jeremy is my hero.
Victor got a ride home that night but we were without my car for another 24 hours. I never made it back to the coast to finish out my vacation. But the kids got to spend extra alone time with my parents. Planned or unplanned, those are memories that they will always have.
And we did eventually get our other car back, too. First world problems, I know. But it was still quite a little adventure. One I don't plan on repeating...
Now the story begins...
The week that "historic" Tropical Storm Bill was to make landfall on the Texas gulf coast I was in fact on the Texas gulf coast. No, I'm not crazy. I'm a local. It was the week of my mom's birthday and we were celebrating it, as we always do, in Galveston. A little rain wasn't going to scare us off.
On the way to their beach house, a little light came on on the dashboard in my Honda. I didn't think much of it, other than the fact that I should probably get it checked out before Bill made landfall. So I went about my way. I made it safely to my parents' little hideaway and didn't have cause to start the car again until the next day.
I was secretly hoping that this would be one of those cases of the disappearing dash lights. You know, when it comes on for no good reason and then disappears for no good reason, too. But alas, it was not meant to be. The darn thing was still on. So we went to the beach.
And that was one of the best times I have had at the beach in a long time. The waves were choppy and rough and perfect for playing in with my daughters. My son was being a bum and chose not to go. Ever since last month when his teen-aged hormones dictated that he is (and I quote), "not a beach person." It was truly his loss. I think the water even seemed a little clearer that day. I know that the chief complaint about our part of the gulf is its murky brown color, but I still love it. The tide was high, the water was cool and we beat the storm.
When I returned to the house I decided to take the car in to Autozone for a free check out before the rain really started. At this point we had only been subjected to a few very brief showers. My son and my oldest daughter volunteered to keep me company and we made our way through crowded, lunch-time streets to Autozone.
They were super friendly and I wish I could remember their names, but at any rate, they didn't judge me on my lack of car expertise. The woman in the shop came out and ran the check engine test on my car. Nothing. No codes. My car was in tip top shape. Turns out that when the light that comes on on your dash looks like a battery, it's the "It's Your Battery Dumb Ass" light and not the "Check Engine" light. Oops.
I thanked her kindly and promised to get a new battery as soon as I got back home.
But the cards were stacked against me. I got back in the car, with my two lovely children, and click. Click. CLICK. I got nothing. The battery died in the parking lot of the Autozone. I guess it was meant to be. So in I marched, kids in tow, again, and this time I bought a battery.
We had to wait a really long time to have it installed because the gentleman that installed it couldn't leave the lady alone in the store with a bunch of customers. And wouldn't you know it? That seems to be when they hit their rush hour. For close to an hour the kids and I sat in the parking lot and waited. But once it was finally done it seemed as though it was all tip top shape. Right? Wrong. The gentleman helping me ran a final check on the battery and oh, so apologetically informs me that it's not the battery that's the problem, it's my alternator.
But will I make it home to the Houston area?
You should.
Great. That's all I need to know.
So I go back home to the beach house and we get rained on by Bill. Actually we spent most of it out on the porch, drinking and visiting. The rain was only a nuisance at night when it was heaviest and the wind kept waking me up.
Six months ago I had made a commitment to my long time friend, Ed Vela, who coaxed me out of retirement for one night only to appear on stage as part of a workshop. So I had to come back in town on Wednesday to help him out with that. Between talks with my husband and friends we had come up a first, second, third, contingency and back-up plan to get me back home. I had also secured a ride to the theater that night (once I made it home) to further lessen the need to drive. Wednesday morning rolls around and by 8:45 I am off.
My mom follows me to a gas station where I top off my tank. It would suck to get almost all the way home with a bad alternator just to run out of gas. Then I kiss her good-bye and we part ways. I'm driving and I'm driving. No radio, a/c, lights, nothing. Then I hit a red light. My hands are literally shaking I am so nervous. But I make it through that light. On to the next one. Each light it seems that my poor car is struggling more and more to get through the idling. Finally I think that it's going to die. I'm in the left lane (because I-45 is a left exit) so I get in the left turn lane to turn into a parking lot and that's where I die.
It won't start. No lights. No nothing.
I put on my big panties and call my husband, Victor. But as soon as I hear his voice - waterworks. He keeps asking me if I'm okay but I'm crying so hard that I can't answer. Finally I manage to get out, "I.. can't... get... off... the... island." He works his magic and gets me to calm down despite the asshole behind me, blaring his horn, refusing to go around. He reminds me of what I'm supposed to do next and gets me to do it one deep breath at a time.
Call roadside assistance from the number on the back of my license, call our friend Jeremy to come have me towed and call my mom to come keep me company. Roadside assistance gives me the number of Galveston Police Department and Jeremy and my mom are on their way. I flip on the hazards (even though everything is dead) and leave the car where it is. I go across to the parking lot, because if someone hits me from behind I don't want to get hurt. That's where I sit on a bench with the homeless people. They ignored me but I was very chatty and I think one of them was a woman.
I keep calling GPD but their number was eternally busy. Finally I see a cruiser passing by and try to flag him down. He pulls up behind my poor car, whose hazard lights have magically started working. I'm shouting at him, "That's my car!" He nods and says that he saw me. He waves me over to his side of the street where I tell him my whole story, big girls panties barely hanging on. He says I did everything right but that I had the wrong number for the police department. Guess I should have Googled it. And then we push my car to the parking lot I had been aiming for the whole time. I gave Officer Shepherd a give hug and thanked him profusely.
By now, my mom has witnessed me acting a fool in front of the GPD, seen me get stranded and had to leave the kids home alone, so she took me to breakfast and window shopping while we waited for my friend. When Jeremy got there, she was able to go back to the house to reassure the kids I was in good hands.
Jeremy was able to help me out by getting me towed back to Houston and take me home. At first the tow truck was coming at 12:05. Then it was 1:05. Then it finally came at :1:40. We finally left Galveston around 2:00. I had to be back by 4:00 to go to the theater. I got home at 3:40. Jeremy is my hero.
Victor got a ride home that night but we were without my car for another 24 hours. I never made it back to the coast to finish out my vacation. But the kids got to spend extra alone time with my parents. Planned or unplanned, those are memories that they will always have.
And we did eventually get our other car back, too. First world problems, I know. But it was still quite a little adventure. One I don't plan on repeating...
Thursday, June 4, 2015
A Second Open Letter to my HOA
Dear Settler's Village HOA,
I wrote to you last year thanking you for the superb work going on at the neighborhood pool. You must have gotten the message because you decided to extend the construction late into this year as well. By now, I know that we are going to be getting a brand new pool, but you pulled out all the stops and surprised us all by tearing down the existing clubhouse, filling in the old pool and chopping down many of those offensive shade trees.
That old clubhouse must have been completely in the wrong place, as well structurally unsound. Not only did JR. D Construction completely remove any sign of the old one, they built a brand new one in a totally different location, requiring all brand new plumbing to be run and the need to cut down some of those pesky shade trees. I'm sure they would have fallen down eventually anyway in the next category 4 hurricane. And since we'll be spending all our time swimming (eventually, maybe, one day) or playing at the park, my family will never fully get to appreciate the game room you just spent the better part of a year building anyway. But we will use the brand new, state of the art bathrooms. They are state of the art, right? So thank you.
Last summer when you filled in the old pool I admit I was a little perturbed. And when you said it was going to take two weeks for the ground to settle before you could break ground on a new pool I was even more confused. And when those two weeks turned out to be more like two months I finally just assumed you know what you were doing because I was done trying to figure it out. And here we are a full year later and you are still working on the pool.
I think.
You built the brand new clubhouse street-side and no one can see what what is going on behind it. So other than the occasional "bang-bang" and a worker popping his head around the corner, you would never know that anything is going on back there. Once upon a time, you said the pool would be ready this June. Well, now it's June you are telling me July so I'm going to start checking my mail box every day for my pool tag information. Unless you want to let everyone in, willy-nilly, which I don't think you should do because I paid my dues to not use my pool last year, and they got to not use the pool for free. I demand preferential treatment when it comes to not using the pool again this year.
So thank you again to my HOA for making decisions for us that I'm sure made sense on paper, but are kinda stupid in reality. And thank you again for the lag in communication. And for making ridiculous promises. And for, well, literally nothing else.
Sincerely,
A Fish Out of Water
I wrote to you last year thanking you for the superb work going on at the neighborhood pool. You must have gotten the message because you decided to extend the construction late into this year as well. By now, I know that we are going to be getting a brand new pool, but you pulled out all the stops and surprised us all by tearing down the existing clubhouse, filling in the old pool and chopping down many of those offensive shade trees.
That old clubhouse must have been completely in the wrong place, as well structurally unsound. Not only did JR. D Construction completely remove any sign of the old one, they built a brand new one in a totally different location, requiring all brand new plumbing to be run and the need to cut down some of those pesky shade trees. I'm sure they would have fallen down eventually anyway in the next category 4 hurricane. And since we'll be spending all our time swimming (eventually, maybe, one day) or playing at the park, my family will never fully get to appreciate the game room you just spent the better part of a year building anyway. But we will use the brand new, state of the art bathrooms. They are state of the art, right? So thank you.
Last summer when you filled in the old pool I admit I was a little perturbed. And when you said it was going to take two weeks for the ground to settle before you could break ground on a new pool I was even more confused. And when those two weeks turned out to be more like two months I finally just assumed you know what you were doing because I was done trying to figure it out. And here we are a full year later and you are still working on the pool.
I think.
You built the brand new clubhouse street-side and no one can see what what is going on behind it. So other than the occasional "bang-bang" and a worker popping his head around the corner, you would never know that anything is going on back there. Once upon a time, you said the pool would be ready this June. Well, now it's June you are telling me July so I'm going to start checking my mail box every day for my pool tag information. Unless you want to let everyone in, willy-nilly, which I don't think you should do because I paid my dues to not use my pool last year, and they got to not use the pool for free. I demand preferential treatment when it comes to not using the pool again this year.
So thank you again to my HOA for making decisions for us that I'm sure made sense on paper, but are kinda stupid in reality. And thank you again for the lag in communication. And for making ridiculous promises. And for, well, literally nothing else.
Sincerely,
A Fish Out of Water
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Finding Good Healthcare
I hate it when my kids get sick. And not for the usual reasons - the whining, the crying, the demands. And that's just from my husband, whom I think has a harder time dealing with sick kids than the actual ailing children. (Sorry, babe, but you know it's true. I still love you!) No, the problem we have when the kids fall ill is finding adequate healthcare.
I'm not sure if it is just part of our American culture - this desire to have everything right away, everything at our fingertips - or truly just a parent's need to care for their kids, but when it comes to our healthcare system, well, it sucks and always lets us down. I suppose we don't really have anyone to blame but ourselves but when it comes to actually trying to get well, we have done nothing but make it more difficult on ourselves.
Friday afternoon my oldest daughter came home sick with a really bad headache. I was concerned she had her first migraine, considering they run in the family, but after getting her home and making her comfortable I determined it was just a really bad sinus headache. My husband was concerned it may be the beginnings of a sinus infection and asked me to take her in to see a doctor. I disagreed with his opinion but went ahead anyway. That's marriage, right?
I arrived at a Walgreens Healthcare Clinic shortly after noon that day. I started to sign in for an appointment, because they only accept walk-ins, and a woman appeared from a doorway and told me to come after 2 because they were no longer accepting patients for the morning and they were going to lunch from 1 to 2. There was no "Hi", "Hello", "I'm sorry, but..." I replied that a sign would be nice so patients would know to seek medical attention elsewhere.
Now, I guess I can see how perhaps I was not as polite a customer as I could have been. However, whatever happened to the "customer is always right" mantra? I was polite, if a bit sarcastic, and was already walking away. But here I was with a kid sick, who was missing school, I was missing work (sort of) and I was trying to sign in to receive healthcare and all I hear is, "Come back later." So, yeah, a sign would have been nice. This conversation should have stopped there. But the young woman who told me to go away continued it. She said, "Regardless, you need to come back after 2."
So now I'm feeling that I don't really want your service anyway. I replied, "Well, regardless you should really post a sign somewhere," and continued to leave. She tried to get the last word in and called after me that their lunch hours were posted on the website. "No. They aren't," I replied with complete confidence and left.
And they are not. Walgreens #4696 states on its site "Walk-in always welcome! We may stop accepting new patients before closing due to high patient volume. The clinic closes for 1 hr M-F and 45 Sat-Sun. Times may vary." So I think there might be a flaw in your system. Plus a sign might still be nice.
The next closest Walgreens clinic happens to be one that accepts appointments. But they were full for the day. Of course. So we decided to come home and old-school it. Ibuprofen, Benadryl and a nap. And if she was feeling better we were going to go to Galveston for the weekend (which we did and had a spectacular time).
On Sunday, both of my daughters began to complain about ear pain. Great. We had just spent a fabulous weekend in Galveston, having a little fun in the sun, and now my two best girls were feeling under the weather. What was a mother to do?
Monday morning rolled around and we decided to keep them home from school. We also tried (again) to get them into a doctor. This time we tried the MediStop Clinic down the road from our house and a CVS Minute Clinic.
The MediStop Clinic was supposed to open at 9 am. We arrived at 9:05. It was closed.
So we drove down to the CVS Minute Clinic. We signed into their system and discovered that we would have about an hour and a half wait. We had to leave, though, because I had a cardiologist appointment that day, too, and couldn't be two places at one time. Sorry about that. The flaw in their system is that we couldn't find a way to cancel the appointment once it was made. We drove by the MediStop Clinic on the way home, hoping maybe, just maybe, it was open and they could squeeze the girls in. But no. They never even opened their doors and by now it was at least 10 am. So I obviously don't recommend going there.
We spent yesterday feeding the girls over the counter drugs, teaching them how to swallow pills for the first time and praying they would be well enough to go to school today. No such luck.
Today I sucked it up, went to a different CVS, because I stood the other guys up and didn't want to be recognized, and waited at the store for the full hour and a half for our appointment. What was the verdict you ask? One kid has an ear infection and the other is suffering from seasonal allergies. Well, at least they'll be better soon.
Through all of this I'm sure you're asking, "Why didn't she just go to her regular doctor?" Well, I'll tell you why not. Because the family practitioner we used to go to now only practices in Houston. And I'm not going to drive an hour to get to his office only to wait another hour or two just to see him for ten minutes and then drive an hour home. The one before that is no longer on our insurance. Thanks United! Another great decision you made on our behalf! And as much as I absolutely adore my pediatrician, I can never get a same day appointment with her anymore, she is that much in demand. We've been with her for 14 years and she has never steered us wrong, but it is so hard to get in to see her anymore.
I think that's the worst part of all of this. I love my regular doctors. Well, I used to, before I could no longer see them. So now not only am I stuck with only going to these stand alone clinics, I am stuck with crappy customer service, long waits, closed offices and unreliable hours to go along with them. And all for what? Because we wanted convenience at the tips of our fingers? Well, we got it! There are clinics everywhere offering fast, affordable and easy healthcare. But has any of this sounded very convenient to you?
I'm not sure if it is just part of our American culture - this desire to have everything right away, everything at our fingertips - or truly just a parent's need to care for their kids, but when it comes to our healthcare system, well, it sucks and always lets us down. I suppose we don't really have anyone to blame but ourselves but when it comes to actually trying to get well, we have done nothing but make it more difficult on ourselves.
Friday afternoon my oldest daughter came home sick with a really bad headache. I was concerned she had her first migraine, considering they run in the family, but after getting her home and making her comfortable I determined it was just a really bad sinus headache. My husband was concerned it may be the beginnings of a sinus infection and asked me to take her in to see a doctor. I disagreed with his opinion but went ahead anyway. That's marriage, right?
I arrived at a Walgreens Healthcare Clinic shortly after noon that day. I started to sign in for an appointment, because they only accept walk-ins, and a woman appeared from a doorway and told me to come after 2 because they were no longer accepting patients for the morning and they were going to lunch from 1 to 2. There was no "Hi", "Hello", "I'm sorry, but..." I replied that a sign would be nice so patients would know to seek medical attention elsewhere.
Now, I guess I can see how perhaps I was not as polite a customer as I could have been. However, whatever happened to the "customer is always right" mantra? I was polite, if a bit sarcastic, and was already walking away. But here I was with a kid sick, who was missing school, I was missing work (sort of) and I was trying to sign in to receive healthcare and all I hear is, "Come back later." So, yeah, a sign would have been nice. This conversation should have stopped there. But the young woman who told me to go away continued it. She said, "Regardless, you need to come back after 2."
So now I'm feeling that I don't really want your service anyway. I replied, "Well, regardless you should really post a sign somewhere," and continued to leave. She tried to get the last word in and called after me that their lunch hours were posted on the website. "No. They aren't," I replied with complete confidence and left.
And they are not. Walgreens #4696 states on its site "Walk-in always welcome! We may stop accepting new patients before closing due to high patient volume. The clinic closes for 1 hr M-F and 45 Sat-Sun. Times may vary." So I think there might be a flaw in your system. Plus a sign might still be nice.
The next closest Walgreens clinic happens to be one that accepts appointments. But they were full for the day. Of course. So we decided to come home and old-school it. Ibuprofen, Benadryl and a nap. And if she was feeling better we were going to go to Galveston for the weekend (which we did and had a spectacular time).
On Sunday, both of my daughters began to complain about ear pain. Great. We had just spent a fabulous weekend in Galveston, having a little fun in the sun, and now my two best girls were feeling under the weather. What was a mother to do?
Monday morning rolled around and we decided to keep them home from school. We also tried (again) to get them into a doctor. This time we tried the MediStop Clinic down the road from our house and a CVS Minute Clinic.
The MediStop Clinic was supposed to open at 9 am. We arrived at 9:05. It was closed.
So we drove down to the CVS Minute Clinic. We signed into their system and discovered that we would have about an hour and a half wait. We had to leave, though, because I had a cardiologist appointment that day, too, and couldn't be two places at one time. Sorry about that. The flaw in their system is that we couldn't find a way to cancel the appointment once it was made. We drove by the MediStop Clinic on the way home, hoping maybe, just maybe, it was open and they could squeeze the girls in. But no. They never even opened their doors and by now it was at least 10 am. So I obviously don't recommend going there.
We spent yesterday feeding the girls over the counter drugs, teaching them how to swallow pills for the first time and praying they would be well enough to go to school today. No such luck.
Today I sucked it up, went to a different CVS, because I stood the other guys up and didn't want to be recognized, and waited at the store for the full hour and a half for our appointment. What was the verdict you ask? One kid has an ear infection and the other is suffering from seasonal allergies. Well, at least they'll be better soon.
Through all of this I'm sure you're asking, "Why didn't she just go to her regular doctor?" Well, I'll tell you why not. Because the family practitioner we used to go to now only practices in Houston. And I'm not going to drive an hour to get to his office only to wait another hour or two just to see him for ten minutes and then drive an hour home. The one before that is no longer on our insurance. Thanks United! Another great decision you made on our behalf! And as much as I absolutely adore my pediatrician, I can never get a same day appointment with her anymore, she is that much in demand. We've been with her for 14 years and she has never steered us wrong, but it is so hard to get in to see her anymore.
I think that's the worst part of all of this. I love my regular doctors. Well, I used to, before I could no longer see them. So now not only am I stuck with only going to these stand alone clinics, I am stuck with crappy customer service, long waits, closed offices and unreliable hours to go along with them. And all for what? Because we wanted convenience at the tips of our fingers? Well, we got it! There are clinics everywhere offering fast, affordable and easy healthcare. But has any of this sounded very convenient to you?
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Kids and Their Gadgets
Last night, my son had the opportunity to perform in a short concert with the top band in the high school he is matriculating to next year. So naturally I was there to cheer my baby on. Whenever I go to one of my children's performances, I expect to hear a fantastic production and I have never been disappointed. What I don't expect, however, is to see a four year old with a pair of Beats headphones and his own mini iPad roaming the aisles.
Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but these tablets still retail for a couple hundred bucks. Not to mention that a pair of Beats headphones are at least $150. So this mother was trusting her four year old with up to $500 worth of equipment. I don't even trust my 14 year old with that much.
I honestly don't know what is happening to people that they feel they can't get their children to sit through a 30 minute concert without resorting to placating them with phones, tablets, handheld games, mp3 players... Wait. Mp3 players? At a concert? Where the music is being provided for you?
If that's not bad enough, parents are allowing children to take their phones under the guise of snapping photos of their siblings, but in reality they are running amok in the auditorium with other like-minded children. And no one, but me, the mean, nasty, ill-tempered, evil mother who just wants to hear her child perform, will tell these kids to kindly shut up and go away. Not even the owner of these loudmouthed hellions seems to notice. Or care. Maybe they have their Beats headphones on.
Call me old fashioned, but I also believe in having a family dinner. I have a "No Tech at the Table" policy. That includes the adults. There is nothing that my husband and I hate more than seeing an entire family out to dinner and watching them completely ignore each other because they are engrossed in their phone conversations. If I am going to spend my time preparing you a yummy, delicious dinner or pay my hard earned money to take you out, the least you can do is talk to me. I gave birth to you, after all, the least I can do is get to know you.
As of this moment in time, my children do not have cell phones. I'm not against it, I just don't feel it has been necessary as of yet. I think we are getting closer and closer to that point now that they are expanding their social calendars and extracurricular commitments. My kids are in band, choir and student council. They have friends all over the neighborhood and frequently stay after school for rehearsals. My husband works long hours and I sometimes need to be in two places at once. There have been times where it would have been convenient to reach out and call or text my kids to let them know I was running late or to ask them where I need to be. But we have managed just fine so far without the gadgets. So maybe the phones can wait a little longer.
I think it's a shame that children are missing out on their sibling's performances, family conversations, the world around them, new experiences and any number of other things because they have their nose in a phone, in a tablet or in a handheld game. But, by God, they can tell me all I need to know about the latest Vines, music videos, game cheats and celebrity gossip. Talk about a Zombie Apocalypse, we're creating one right before our eyes. No monkeys included.
Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but these tablets still retail for a couple hundred bucks. Not to mention that a pair of Beats headphones are at least $150. So this mother was trusting her four year old with up to $500 worth of equipment. I don't even trust my 14 year old with that much.
I honestly don't know what is happening to people that they feel they can't get their children to sit through a 30 minute concert without resorting to placating them with phones, tablets, handheld games, mp3 players... Wait. Mp3 players? At a concert? Where the music is being provided for you?
If that's not bad enough, parents are allowing children to take their phones under the guise of snapping photos of their siblings, but in reality they are running amok in the auditorium with other like-minded children. And no one, but me, the mean, nasty, ill-tempered, evil mother who just wants to hear her child perform, will tell these kids to kindly shut up and go away. Not even the owner of these loudmouthed hellions seems to notice. Or care. Maybe they have their Beats headphones on.
Call me old fashioned, but I also believe in having a family dinner. I have a "No Tech at the Table" policy. That includes the adults. There is nothing that my husband and I hate more than seeing an entire family out to dinner and watching them completely ignore each other because they are engrossed in their phone conversations. If I am going to spend my time preparing you a yummy, delicious dinner or pay my hard earned money to take you out, the least you can do is talk to me. I gave birth to you, after all, the least I can do is get to know you.
As of this moment in time, my children do not have cell phones. I'm not against it, I just don't feel it has been necessary as of yet. I think we are getting closer and closer to that point now that they are expanding their social calendars and extracurricular commitments. My kids are in band, choir and student council. They have friends all over the neighborhood and frequently stay after school for rehearsals. My husband works long hours and I sometimes need to be in two places at once. There have been times where it would have been convenient to reach out and call or text my kids to let them know I was running late or to ask them where I need to be. But we have managed just fine so far without the gadgets. So maybe the phones can wait a little longer.
I think it's a shame that children are missing out on their sibling's performances, family conversations, the world around them, new experiences and any number of other things because they have their nose in a phone, in a tablet or in a handheld game. But, by God, they can tell me all I need to know about the latest Vines, music videos, game cheats and celebrity gossip. Talk about a Zombie Apocalypse, we're creating one right before our eyes. No monkeys included.
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