Posts filed under ‘annoyances’
No, I don’t find this funny. Seriously.
This evening, I was reading my regular twitter and FB stream and came across this article that was posted by a few friends and others.
Some are just Disney fans, others, like me, are current and former Cast Members (CMs).
The fans? They find it funny. It’s a cute anecdote to them as well as a cautionary tale.
For the CM crew (including me), we are less amused. We are more annoyed by this article. Especially those (like me), who work(ed) at Disneyland and know the “routes” (what the Fantasyland rides are called) and what it takes to cycle them up and down.
When guests lose something on a ride that flies off, or a child drops accidentally and must have back NOW-like happened to me while I was working once with a 5 year old’s favorite pair of ears-we’re totally ok with getting it, even when it means cycling down the ride and bringing it back up again. Most people understand.
But when an adult does something like tweet photos from inside dark rides (which are notorious for sharp turns and blind corners-especially the older ones) and lose their phone, and we have to retrieve it, we are less amused. We will cheerfully do it for you, because that’s the Disney way. It’s how we are as a batch of CMs. That’s why we were hired in.
But
What we dislike about this whole situation is that we have to deal with the aftermath. The cycling up, down and sideways and the ticked off people that the ride is down. Some rides take longer to cycle through than others. Some guests are, shall we say, less understanding than others.
One cell phone or other item can make for a good hour of downtime on some rides. Sometimes, we can’t stop the ride, and we have to listen to the stressed out complaints of the person who lost the item in the first place.
To us, you just made our day harder, not funnier.
And for those of you who say things like “that lap bar kept me from grabbing my stuff,” please remember-you are most likely the one who would get your foot caught or something like that and go after the park for an unsafe ride. That requires the ride going down for a longer period of time with an OSHA investigation and the like.
So, no. That’s not funny to me. It’s just plain annoying.
Moral of this story? Be smart with your stuff.
From the “You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” Files
Isaac’s school is awesome. The teachers, the principal and the support staff are phenomenal, even with the issues that I have with the OT and PT staff. It’s why I signed on to be a room mom for Isaac this year-I figured that it wouldn’t be too bad, and my co-room mom, Amy is a joy to work with. She coordinates the parties, I do the rest-like gifts, sending out all of the emails, ect. It’s an awesome team.
Last week, the first grade team sent home an “end of year” picnic form, and I got to emailing the parents to bring things in. Normally, Amy would handle this, but hey-she’s in the middle of a move (and I can totally empathize) and has a million boxes all over God’s green Earth in her house and she can’t find her way out! So, I took over on this one. No biggie!
The items on the picnic list:
Watermelon
ice pops
juice boxes
ice and coolers
(and the usual clean up items-they’re heading to a park!!)
No biggie! I got most the items signed up for in one shot. I ❤ the parents in my room this year!!
I figured we were all smooth sailing until….
this email came flying through from the “School Spirit Committee”
Hello Homeroom Parents!Thank you for all that you have done to support our school this year. On Monday, 6/20, in our A-Z countdown, the students will receive an “x-tra special treat.” As we have in the past, we are hoping to serve sliced watermelon to the entire school.If you are unable to purchase, and/or deliver SLICED watermelon to the school on this date, please feel free to “recruit” another parent in your child’s classroom to do so.Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and support of the Rosendale School’s A-Z countdown. Have a great summer!
That is the day the first graders are having their picnic with watermelon. I don’t know that the first grade is 1) going to want more watermelon and 2) we can ask parents to deliver a second, sliced watermelon. Do you have any alternatives to watermelon?
Ice pops?
Sears Auto Can Bite Me.
Over the past month, my Adventuremobile needed a few fixes. AND, it figures, both fixes needed to happen on the weekend. I had to take my Adventuremobile to the only open repair shop, because this wasn’t a fix that could wait. Especially the first one.
That repair shop?
Sears.
The first time I went there, I called ahead to see if they did the work that I thought was going to be required. I had a nice gentleman pick up and assure me that they did the work that we thought my Adventuremobile required.
Well, upon having Doug open the hood, he noticed that the serpentine belt was completely shot. It as a miracle we had made it home from the hockey game the night before. There was no belt to be had, and the car was running directly off of battery-no alternator to drive said battery. I made Doug promise I’d make it from home to the repair shop to get the belt put on my car. We turned off the radio, any sort of fans or things that would drain the battery.
The car electric cut out about 4 miles from the repair shop. I prayed and coasted my car the final 4 miles to the shop. Navigating through some of the worst traffic areas that the Capital Region of NY has to offer. I pulled into the Sears parking lot, shaking from head to foot, ready to cry, because I had made it without getting hit or causing some sort of a pileup with my car.
I went in and explained to the gruff guy (who was NOT the one I spoke to on the phone) who began to treat me like I was stupid (and his name is Larry. Yes, I’ll call him out. You’ll understand why later.), and then demand that I drive the car around the other side of the building to get it fixed. STILL SHAKING, I explained to him that I could not drive the car to the other side of the building. His response?
ready for this one?
“if you can’t drove it over, We can’t fix it.”
Yeah. Seriously.
I was not impressed already at this point.
So, I told him he would have to push the car in, as there was no electric in the car as the drive belt had gone.
He then proceeded to argue with me about the type of belt.
So, finally, Larry stopped aruging with me when I demanded to speak with his manager and got a tech to help push my poor Adventuremobile in.
Larry continued to be rude to me from the word go. He even called me the dreaded “Honey,” which drives me crazy.
(I had this conversation with Mom earlier-She didn’t think it was a big deal. Being called “honey,” or “sweetie” by someone who is not related to me by blood or marriage is not a way to endear yourself to me. I chalk it up to generation gap. But that’s another post.)
So, the car got fixed. I figured Larry was having a bad day and he was just a jerk because he was having a bad day. All of the other employees were nice, so meh.
I’m all for second chances. I’ve had enough of them given to me in my life for me to give someone else a second chance.
So, when Doug and I decided that my Adventuremobile’s AC needed more repairs than we could do on our own, we took it to Sears auto, thinking that this would be a positive experience.
(please stop laughing now. Again, remember I was going with benefit of the doubt.)
I got there and was immediately met by…guess who…
LARRY.
And he was in Jerk mode from the word go. He was as rude as the day was long as I questioned his assessment of what needed to be done with my car. He even called me the dreaded “sweetie” again. Yeah. He did have a death wish.
I got so sick of dealing with him, I asked to speak to someone else. It was then that Paul (and I’m calling him out for another reason. Trust me.) intervened.
Larry tried to jump in and argue with me again,a nd when I stated calmly that I was talking to Paul, he threw the paperwork at me and Paul and stormed off.
Now, my car needed a part ordered. That’s the truth. I’m not cheesed about that. It happens.
But when you are told 3-5 days to get the part and on day 7 you call to see where the heck your part is, the following should not happen:
LARRY – “Sweetie, 3-5 days are business days.”
Me- “Yes, I know. This has been business days.”
Larry- “Umm..what’s the last name?”
Me- (I gave him my last name)
Larry- (yelling at someone in the shop) HEY! Where’s the ticket! I can’t find this ticket! She’s paid for the part, but where’s the ticket! (then coming back to me) “Umm, what’s the phone number that it would be under?”
Me- (astonished) “You’ve got to be kidding me-you can’t find my ticket or my part?!”
Larry- “DON’T YELL AT ME!!”
Me- “I’m not yelling at you. I’d just like to know where the stuff is! I’m giving you the information you’ve requested…”
then, the phone went to hold music…and 5 minutes later, Paul picked up.
I explained everything to him again, and he said he was sending someone to get the part.
I also explained to Paul about how I never wanted to deal with Larry again, and how he was extremely nasty to me every time I dealt with him.
So, that was 9 am.
at 11:30, I had heard nothing. So, I had Doug call, because at this point, I wasn’t going to risk getting Larry or even Paul, because if there was no part, there would have been some serious screaming going on.
Doug was put on hold by Larry for (not kidding) 20 minutes and then hung up on.
I grabbed the phone and called.
Larry (and his infinite jerkness) picked up the phone. I immediately asked for Paul and was told again that the part was en route. I told him I’d be there after lunch.
I got to Sears after I had lunch and watched a few things on the DVR.
When I got there, I was intercepted by Paul.
The part was NOT there, and it wouldn’t be there until Monday.
Why?
Because the dipsticks got the wrong line. I guess my car needed a bottom line and they got handed a TOP line.
I about lost it. I almost lost my snot because by this point, I had called several times, dealt with Larry and then this?
Yeah, no.
At this point, I think the word “Unacceptable” came out of my mouth at least 7-8 times in a 5 minute conversation.
They placed blame on the parts place which I called right in front of them, and my part magically appeared!
Hrm…
Paul is a gem, and fixed everything to the best of his ability, but I don’t think I’ll ever deal with Sears auto again. It’s just too much to ask when there’s someone who is condescending to women, treats people like trash when they disagree or even express shock and outrage.
So, Sears auto, except for Paul and the one guy who is really sweet and awesome, but I never got his name…BITE ME.
Dear Entity that Controls the Weather
This has been a civil conversation thus far. Now, the gloves are off.
I don’t think you understand our working agreement. As of 3/31, each year, there is to be no new snowfall. The forecast tomorrow better be your idea of a prank and the snow better not show.
If it does show, and you kill my awesome crocuses (crocii?), you and I will be having more than words. Seriously.
The threat of a foot of wet, heavy snow does not sit well with this snow hater.
Your Thoroughly Annoyed Fairweather Friend,
Laura
Dear Entity that Controls the Weather:
I understand that people start doing their “snow dances” in December for a proverbial “White Christmas.” I, however, do not. I truly understand that I live in the Northeast. It does snow here. A dusting? Fine. A scene like this:
uncool. Completely uncool. Especially after you’ve dumped at least 8 inches on us prior to this.
Now, right now, I’m willing to make this a civil conversation. No more snow, please. There’s just nowhere to put any more!
Come the end of next month? This will become threats, cranklyness and general disgust with the fact that there is still snow.
Again, this:
seriously enough.
Thank you.
Your Fairweather Friend,
Laura
Chalk this up to the Good Karma file
With a noreaster breathing down our necks here in E. Nowhere, Doug and Isaac were a bit concerned about getting out of the airport here to get to see the outlaws in Arizona.
Me, personally, well, if you’ve been hanging around long enough, you know how I feel. I would have loved to say “screw off” to them and keep the guys here. I don’t spend enough time with either of them, and it’s because of the hellacious work schedule I keep. Just because I have two days off, doesn’t mean they’re really mine. Seriously. But I digress.
Anyhoo, the guys were supposed to fly out of here and head to Baltimore and then go to Phoenix.
Now, first off, does anyone see the faulty logic here? Going east first to go west? Yeah. Seriously. Taking a longer flight and all of that and a roundabout route. Nice.
Now, the thing about where we live is that it’s a geographically protected area. We learn that early on in grade school. We’re protected by two very large mountain ranges that any sort of storm has to pass before it hits us. So, there are storms where the surrounding areas get dumped on and we get absolutely nothing. Hence, my attitude of “I’ll believe the pileup when I see it.”
BUT, Baltimore…well, that’s a whole other story. If this storm hits us, they’re going to get SLAMMED. Ya know, being coastal and all…
So, does anyone see the faulty logic here again? Midwest has already gotten this storm. It’s CLEAR there!!
So, why were the guys not routed through Chicago?
Yeah. No clue.
So, last night, instead of a “Merry Christmas” call, Colostomy calls here and wants to talk to Doug about the plane flight. Nothing about our day, nothing about how Isaac enjoyed his gifts…none of that. Just his usual selfish banter of “How are you going to get to us.”
Frankly, again, I don’t care.
BUT, put this in the good karma file.
Doug was talking about going through Chicago, and if they could get from here to Chicago, they could get to Phoenix no problem.
(see the wheels turning in my head?)
So, I logged onto the Southwest site and found that there not only was a flight on Monday (the day they’re leaving) to Chicago and connecting to Phoenix, but there were (ready?) STILL AVAILABLE SEATS on the flight!!
So, I grabbed the phone and dialed Southwest. I tossed my cell phone to Doug and made him call Colostomy to make sure he would pay for a flight change, because I’m totally not footing the bill for any sort of visit to them.
There I sat, on hold, for 43 minutes and 28 seconds (my phone has a timer..) and spoke to the nicest Southwest agent. She took the reservation numbers and listened patiently as I explained what I would love her to do, if possible.
I got put on hold.
I hate hold. But I understand.
She then returned with the news that I had gotten them on the flights to Midway and then on to Phoenix. No upgrade charge, no penalty, no fees. Just a straight flight change.
It even gets the two of them into Phoenix a bit earlier!
Oh, and the Southwest person told me that I was the nicest, most polite customer she had dealt with that day…how can you not be nice on Christmas!? But I digress.
Do you even think I got a “thank you” out of those fools?
This is so going in my “good karma” file.
or as my old principal used to say-I’m doing this for the souls in purgatory.
because there’s no other reason to do this.
Come on, Time Magazine!
This year has had no shortage of big personalities that would have been awesome for their annual Person of the Year. The list included people like the Chilean Miners , Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart as well as Julian Assange.
I’m sorry. I can’t get behind time’s choice this year.
Mark Zuckerberg?
Really?
The founder of Facebook?
COME ON!
In another year, a less politically charged and calmer world event year, this choice may have been a good one. This year, however, it wasn’t.
Yes, Mark Zuckerberg is a genius. Seriously. He’s got the business acumen of a person twice his years and can program the snot out of things, but the network (that I admittedly use) is not worthy of making him Person of the Year.
His network is riddled with privacy concerns. Data mining and stalkers. He does little to stop it or hire people that will make his network safer. The network changes constantly and the concern for privacy among its users deteriorates with every single upgrade.
There’s no safeguards for Facebook’s youngest members, and the ages of people using the service get younger and younger by the day. There are 3rd graders with Facebook pages, and even though this is a violation of the Terms of Service, no one seems to bother enforcing it.
There’s no real reason given as to why Time chose Zuckerberg. It doesn’t make sense to me. All Zuckerberg has done is create an online environment where anyone can say anything and companies can mine for personal information. All of this adds up to making the world a less secure and private place than it ever was.
I can’t get behind this. COME ON TIME! Give me a break! Pick someone that actually has done something. Assange has made us look at network security and what transparency is versus what should he held in confidence. The miners made us realize how strong a human can be. Stewart and Colbert have turned the political world on its ear and the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear was a perfect example of that. They have mobilized the young voter base that was alienated once again after the last set of elections.
So, COME ON TIME! Get with the program and find someone more worthy than Zuckerberg!
How many Occupational Therapists does it take…
to try and rehab Isaac?
yeah, that’s the question,and I don’t have a really good answer. After the multiple fiascos last year, we went to a private OT so that we could try and bring Isaac up as close to speed as we could get.
So, at last check in with this whole mess, we were in a pretty good space with Miss A.
of course, that couldn’t last. Seriously. We had a good thing going, but it just CAN’T last. It’s the way our luck runs.
Miss A. left over the summer and we got Miss K.
Let’s start counting-this is OT #2. This is important. Trust me.
She lasted until about a month ago, when all heck broke loose and they tried to rearrange my schedule to meet theirs. Without asking me.
That went over well.
Yeah. And pigs are going to fly…
Enter Miss M. This is OT #3.
So, I figured we were settled. Then, Miss M. started showing up late. At first it was nothing huge, but then, when she started showing up 10-15 minutes late every session where we’d only get 15 minutes of good, solid OT with her, we had a problem. She also told us she was going to leave, because working in the clinic didn’t really work with her schedule and things, so she didn’t want to get too involved with Isaac and his treatment.
Okie dokie…..
Enter yesterday. I checked the phone messages and found that we had one from the place where Isaac does private OT, asking to change the time of the session to a time when we’ve stated on SEVERAL occasions that we are not available at.
Here’s where I hit the roof.
So, I got on the phone and called this morning and after a long conversation with the secretary, I got a hold of the head of the program. At this point, I think it was what was needed. I left a message for him to call me. The message he left on my cell phone showed that he really had no understanding of the situation. So, I returned the call and ran down the list of issues-
1. We’re sick of being jerked around time wise-it’s not about putting Isaac into the schedule. It’s about the fact that we’ve been through this one too many times…like all of August and September. I don’t think we had a week that we had our regular time at all.
2. We are tired of getting 30 minutes of OT a week instead of a full hour, not due to us being late,but the therapist being late.
3. This change of therapists makes 4 therapists in under 7 months.
Yes, 4 therapists in 7 months. How are we supposed to make progress with that kind of track record? Every therapist has their own ideas of what Isaac should be doing, and no two have agreed on exactly WHAT to do with him-is it writing? Is it sensory? What is it? So, please explain to me how we’re going to make progress switching therapists 4 times!
The director of the program was flabbergasted. Hardcore flabbergasted. He knew I had been to the coordinator over this, because our favorite intrepid secretary gave him a reader’s digest of the backstory.
I explained to the head of the program that the coordinator had told me that an intern that we really liked, and did well with Isaac would be coming on board as a full therapist. We just wanted to know WHEN this would happen, as we were told this would be happening a month ago!!
So, now, we’re in the hold mode. We’re waiting for #4, Mr. S, to come on board and put Isaac on his caseload,instead of dealing with late OT.
let’s see how long before we end up having to flip a gasket to get him back into OT.
Next time, please remind me to listen to my gut.
That is the moral of the story.
What’s the story, you ask? Well, here goes.
Furball is gone. That’s all there is to it. I don’t know how, I don’t know why…but I do know she’s gone. Booger is going insane. Hardcore insane. She won’t leave us alone, she cries, wanders around aimlessly, and is generally driving us berserk. We understand. We do. We’ve cried our tears, we’ve come to terms with everything, but in her small cat world, this is wrong.
To keep her from going slowly insane and to keep us sane, we came to the hard fought decision that we needed to add another cat to the house. No, we’re not replacing Furball. That’s not possible. Seriously. It’s not. We’re adding someone new to keep Booger company and because we need it as much as she does, for a multitude of reasons.
When the decision to add a cat to the house was arrived at, I did a few things. First, I did some web searching. I checked out all of the local rescues and the local shelters. I found pricing for adoptions, ect. It’s interesting how prices vary from shelter to shelter and rescue to rescue. Then, I went on Craigslist. I emailed a few people with kittens and waited for responses. I also checked Petfinder.com (neato site there if you’re looking for a pet-great place to start!) and then I made phone calls.
In my travels online, I found the fact that a well known, local rescue has adoption hours for cats not too far from my house in the evenings. Hrm…
I went online and found the cutest little fuzzball that made me melt. I forwarded it on to a few friends, and they melted as well. We decided after OT and PT we’d stop for dinner and go and peek at the cats, and hope that the little fuzzball was there.
We gunned up and found that sadly,she wasn’t there. Darn. There were a few other cats there that just didn’t spark us. They were cute and sweet, but we knew they weren’t for us. At all. One was hiding under a blanket, she was so terrified, and the others weren’t good with kids. Nope. Sorry..not coming home with us.
When I finally got to talk to a volunteer, Isaac was so overtired and bouncing (PT is in the pool, so he was a crispy critter…), and I just wanted to talk to them about the kitten I had seen online. I was encouraged to fill out an application and have them look it over. Ok, fine. On the application it says “this in no way obligates you to adopt…” Fine. I can get behind that.
I fill out the application and hand it to them and the one volunteer goes and kibbutzes with the other one (and tries to settle an “I’m here to take my cat home” dispute with another potential forever family…) and then comes back a few minutes later, letting me know that they both agreed that we were a great family and that they would adopt to us.
Great!
then they let us know that none of the cats that they had that day were right for us.
Heck! We couldn’t agree more!
We asked about the fuzzball we had seen on line and they said they’d forward our application to the people who knew about the particular cat in question. We were pleased and left. While we were there, we decided that we would cross the street and visit the Saratoga County Animal Shelter Annex in the mall. There, we were greeted warmly and encouraged to look around, meet all of the animals (there were about 15 there…some had to go together and those were immediately out of the question for us..)and ask any questions we had.
We wandered around the cages and crates and things-kept Isaac out of ones that said “NO KIDS” or “I don’t like to be picked up!”
Doug came upon a cat that was a bit older, but still young…and fell head over heels for her. I told him that we had to talk and then we’d get back to her.
I was all set to commit to the cat at the annex when I got an email from the people at the local rescue that we had visited on Tuesday. The person who was fostering the little fuzzball we’d been interested in said that she was still available! AND they were going to be at the clinic that night.
Yet again, we rushed out of therapy (just OT this time!) and then up to the adoption clinic. We got there about a half hour in to their adoption clinic. I got an odd vibe from the entire thing, but I shook it off as me rushing and Isaac being excited.
I asked for the foster mom, and the volunteer who answered me gave me an eyeroll and went back to chatting with another person.
Ok…
So, then I met the foster mom who I’d been emailing with all morning. She took one look at Isaac and her entire body posture changed. The fuzzball we had been looking at was adopted out not even 10 minutes before we got there, so one of her sisters was left. We agreed to look at her sister and while we were agreeing, the foster mom was trying to sell us on the mom. Hrm. Ok, fine, we’ll look at her too. We’re open.
Well, as we were playing with the kitten, comments were made regarding Isaac and not leaving the kitten alone with him ever. We reassured this foster mom (who kept calling this kitten her baby…) that it would be fine, and we’re really good with supervising our child. Isaac even asked the kitten if she wanted to be part of our family.
Doug and I were both kind of “eh” with the kitten, so we agreed to meet the older cat. Unfortunately, we were still kind of “eh” about her, but we needed to talk outside of the ears of the foster mom just to confirm the way we were both feeling about everything. It’s kind of hard to really have an honest discussion to make sure you’re on the same page with highly invested ears around.
So, I asked the foster mom to give us 10 minutes to talk and please, please don’t adopt out either of them until we came back. It wouldn’t take us more than 10 minutes. She whole heartedly agreed and said “Not a problem! Go take a walk, decide!’
Then, the woman who had agreed to adopt the fuzzball that we were originally looking at decided that she wanted the sister too! The foster mom turned to us and as we were getting ready to walk away, she demanded an answer then and there.
WHAT? Really?! You just said we could have 10 minutes to talk and promised not to adopt out this cat!
I was so upset that I walked away telling her how I was disenchanted with the entire thing. She yelled after me “we’ll have more in a few months!!”
I got out of the aisle and burst into tears. Doug turned on his heel and let them know that this was NOT ok, but the woman who wanted both cats could have them. We were not going to adopt from their organization because of the way we were treated. It was NOT ok to tell us to go talk and then whip the animal out from under us.
Now, the thing here is that yes, we weren’t going to take either animal, BUT, the promise of a few minutes to talk and then whipping that out from under us 30 seconds later was dead wrong. Hold the other person up a few minutes. It’s not a crime. She’s filling out paperwork and she’ll be there.
Why’d I burst into tears? Well, frustration. I was frustrated that the one we came to look at was gone already and then I was frustrated that we didn’t even get a fair shake with the other one and the foster mom kept calling this kitten “my baby.” We both felt that we were prejudged as bad pet owners because we have Isaac-who was just too excited and his meds had worn off. We also felt like our backs were against the wall and we had to decide then and there and had we decided to adopt the kitten, the foster mom would have been beyond miffed and probably not let us have it anyway. It was an absolute no win situation for us.
We went back to the car, and I was determined to head home. I had had it. I was in a foul mood and I was still cranky from the bad day I had had the day before. I was in no mood to look at any more cats. I wanted one day to recoup myself and then we’d go looking for round two.
My darling other half was having NONE of it. He talked me (I don’t know how) into going back across the street to the Annex in the mall. We walked in, and it was like a homecoming. I didn’t get the weird funky vibes I got at the clinic. We were again greeted warmly and Isaac was greeted by an older woman who was just enthralled by his antics. We looked for the cat that we had seen on Tuesday…and she was STILL THERE.
Ok, is this an omen or WHAT?
We spoke to the shelter workers that were there and explained the entire story-the loss of Furball, the constant freaking out of Booger, the incident across the street, the extremely energetic 6 year old-everything. We also pointed out that we were looking at this specific cat, and we had been there Tuesday and talked to another volunteer. They were thrilled that we had returned and were still interested in the same cat.
We chatted with one volunteer (I’ll tell that story later.) who really took the time to assess what we needed, wanted and could handle. It was an amazing difference. I got no odd vibes, no sense that we would be bad pet owners because we had a child who was high energy, no sense that we would be anything BUT loving to a new animal.
It was a night and day experience.
Yes, this specific cat is coming home with us on Tuesday. I’ll tell the story of the Annex and our new addition then.
You know, I had odd gut feelings regarding the well known local shelter and their practices. I seemed to remember Mom and Dad having issues with this shelter-their application is highly detailed, and depending on who looks at it for approval, sometimes people have problems when the answer they put on the application doesn’t match what the volunteer thinks it should be.
So, note the original moral of the story-Listen to my gut. My gut told me initially to go to the Annex or the other shelter near to my house. But do I listen? NOPE. I have to go on my wild tangents of looking for everything under the sun. So, please, next time I start on my wild tangents of things…remind me of this experience.
I also do need to state this-
Just because we had a run in with one wackjob foster mom doesn’t mean they’re all like this. Seek out your own experience if you’re looking for a pet. Do what’s right for you and what feels right. BUT, ( and here’s my .02) think of taking a pet from a shelter or rescue first! They need homes the most!
Whoopsie.
Yeah. That’s all I can say about what I accidentally did to poor Isaac and what happened over the weekend.
Let’s first chat about what I did to my poor child. Albeit accidentally.
Isaac announced at the begining of the spring that he wanted to continue with Hockey. Ok. fine. So, I signed him up for Mini Mites. Then, he announced he wanted to play spring soccer because his friends were playing. Fine again. THEN, we got him into private OT and PT because he’s losing all services this summer, and the OT woes have been hardcore doccumented ad nauseum, so I won’t go into those again.
WELL, Bad Mommy here didn’t realize that hockey AND soccer both end at teh same time, and don’t run back to back. Yeah…so, here’s poor Isaac’s week (until the end of next week)
Sunday-Hockey
Monday- Soccer
Tuesday- PT/OT (PT’s int he pool!!)
Wednesday-Soccer
Thursday- OT (and it will be PT after June 8th as well)
Friday and Saturday-Down days. Sometimes we go build at Lowe’s on Saturday.
Lather, rinse, repeat for another week.
Whoopsie.
Then, Furball got out. We have no clue how she got out, but she got out. We haven’t seen her since Friday evening. I’m getting worried. We’ve combed the area, alerted all teh shelters with her microchip number and all of that and so far, nothing. Who knows where this cat is. Booger is going nuts. Hardcore nuts.
But, what else can you do? Not much more than we’re doing.
and say
whoopsie.
My 3 Ring Circus of a Life 