Friday, May 13, 2016

If you can't laugh...

The day didn't start out badly. We got up and had breakfast. I had already decided that life could just not continue until I finished putting the school things back together, so that was first on the agenda. I also needed to plan the week's menus, get to the grocery store, and shuttle people to a party. (We tried to get some school done yesterday, and let's just say it was not our most successful morning.) Everyone ate breakfast and headed upstairs. Little people played and I, with the help of D., started in on shelving books. The phone rings, and it's the orthodontist's office. Once again, we had to cancel the appointment for K. to get the panoramic x-ray that he needs because we are having continuing difficulties with getting the approvals from the supplemental insurance. Sigh. At least it gave me more time to work on the third floor.

The next phone call was a friend inviting D. and TM to something in downtown Evanston. They wanted to go and so I said I would usher them out of the door at the correct time so they could walk there.

After shelving a few more books, the phone rings again. This time it is someone at the supplemental insurance apologizing for the approval not coming through for K.'s x-ray. I thank her for her time and then go on into a long rant about my other children and how we are still waiting for approvals for the tests and things that they need. I realize toward the end that the other end of the line is very quiet. I say, "Hello? Hello?" a couple of times and then think a not-so-nice word. Yes, once again, my phone has stopped working.

We had no phone and no internet. Right in the middle of a phone call with a person I really, really, really needed to talk to. I call J. on my cell phone and he offers to call AT&T. He then spends far more hours than any one person needs to spend on the phone getting it worked out. As in, all afternoon.

I go back to my books. The boys leave for their outing with instructions from me about where they are going. Forty minutes later, the boys are back. They are panting because they ran. I ask what happened and, long story short, they tried and tried, but couldn't find the place they were going. Then when they realized the time, they were worried that the parent would call to say they weren't there, and they didn't want me to worry.  Sweet, huh? Well, they were only a bit late, so I put them in the car and drove them, to see if I could find it. Since it was on the third floor of a pretty anonymous office building with no signage (and it had the empty, deserted feel, which a boy might or might not have declared, "spooky," I'm not surprised they had trouble.) Boys deposited, I drove back home to my books.

P. goes to her guitar lesson and I continue to sort. P. returns from her guitar lesson and I load up H. and a friend to take them to a birthday party. While I am gone, J. comes home along with B., who is moving back home for the summer, having finished his last final yesterday. My front hall is filled to the brim with... his sister's stuff. A. is moving home as well and her stuff went in the van first. B. then leaves one more time to go retrieve his things. From experience, it will take a bit to sort all of this into various storage spaces and out of my front hall. (You can read about this seasonal migration here.)

J. realizes that the internet and phone are still not working, so he gets to spend another 45 minutes on the phone with AT&T. Isn't this how everyone wants to spend a late Friday afternoon? Well, as you can see, it is finally working now. At least at this moment. I'm not holding my breath.

So today, I fielded phone calls, or didn't as the case may be. I drove people around. I did not, however, go to the grocery store, or do any laundry, or clean up the kitchen. J. went and picked up some take-out so we could eat. I do have a dorm room and an apartment's worth of stuff in my front hall.

But... I did get the schoolroom sorted out and completely put back together. Pictures tomorrow. Assuming the internet is still working, that is.

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