Happy Halloween!!!

Two princesses and an octopus. :)

Oh yeah, and Jason Vorhees:

Some scary decor:

After school snacks

Lillian: I'm all done my crackers, can I have some more?
Mommy: No baby, have a banana.
L: Can I have a piece of chocolate?
M: After your banana.
L: Oh. Ok.
L: Can I have a banana?

Nothing interesting to blog about today

So I will just let my baby hypnotize you with his eyes:

(Yeah, this pic is from last February, so sue me.)

Carved pumpkins!

Daddy's, Lillian's, Mommy's, Finnigan's, and Rachel's pumpkins:

At least I did the dishes

I'd just like to tell you all that tonight my wonderful hubby Andrew made dinner - ALL of it. He did all the grocery shopping for it, then made us a beautiful pork roast with carrots and potatoes, seasoned and cooked to perfection. He made gravy from the drippings. He served it all to us on clean plates.

He made apple pie. From SCRATCH. With REAL APPLES!

Oh yeah, luckiest woman alive. Y'all leave him some comment love, k?

Pumpkin Patch!

Tis the season to pick pumpkins! We headed out to Aldor Acres today to hit the pumpkin patch. A good time was had by all. We got our picture taken on a giant pumpkin:

Finn got a chance to wear his cowboy hat and lariat:

Rachel found a friend:

Daddy and Finn looked at all the animals:

Lily sat for a portrait:

Lily wasn't so sure about climbing into the pig pen at first:

Rachel was right in there!

Amazing how the cuteness of baby pigs wins you over:

Even Finnigan pet a piglet:

The resident bulls:

Big MOOOOO:

An apple a day...

Or two...

Or three!

How Tall This Fall?

We got to meet Frank. Frank is six weeks old:

Frank is hungry!

Very hungry!

Finnigan picking out his very own pumpkin:

He liked his pumpkin so much he was kissing it on the hayride home.

It was so much fun, and even better because daddy was there. We fed the animals at the petting zoo, and bought honey sticks from the resident bumblebees.

It was a fantastic family day!

I don't think I've seen that...

Yesterday I asked Lily what her favorite movie is.

Her answer? "One hundered of Donations".

I *think* that means 101 Dalmations. I'm not positive though.

Let he who is without sin cast the first stone

I had someone whom I consider to be very close to me say some very hurtful things today. The issue wasn't so much what was said, as how and why. If a sensitive topic must be broached with someone you love, there is a time and a place for that. The time is NOT during the busiest time of the day, and the place is NOT a public space in the middle of a crowd of peers. Choosing the latter options simply adds undue humiliation to already harsh and nonconstructive criticism.

Why? Why say hurtful things at all? Yes, sometimes the truth hurts but needs to be said. But what if the hurtful thing is just an opinion? Worse yet, what if the hurtful things are an opinion based on very few facts, some misinformation, and a generally incomplete knowledge of the situation? What is to be gained then? Is it worth hurting someone in your life just to "get it off your chest"? Are there people in this world who think that hurtful words and actions are going to be the key to changing people they feel are making mistakes in their lives? Or is it more selfish, the adult version of "I'm better than you"? Surely such hurtful things could not have been said for purely altruistic reasons. Such things go beyond bloggity snark, beyond nameless, faceless interweb opinions. They head straight for the heart, and lodge themselves there in all their weighty glory.

I fail to see the benefit in being the recipient of such a monologue. Yes, I have examined what was said. All day long, I've been examining what was said. I do not agree. I know my life, I know my family, and I know what's in my heart. Nowhere in any of it did I find anything to lend merit to what was said. However, the hurt remains. The unnecessary hurt. What was done was not helpful, nor was it beneficial in any way. Alas, it IS done. All that's left is how to deal.

This is a flawed world, and I am a flawed person. Perhaps, in the views of some people, I am fatally flawed. We are all flawed. We alone decide which flaws we can change, which ones we choose to change, and which we must simply accept. In turn, others can decide if the perceived flaws of a person are worth putting up with to have that person in their lives. Sadly, it would seem I am not acceptable as-is. Even more sad - all the other relationships that stand to lose out because of this.

For that, I am deeply sorry.

In my life - I choose love. In my family - I choose love. In my heart - I choose love.

Perhaps it is not I who is so fatally flawed.

100 Days of WHAT???

First of all, go see AFRo, she'll explain it better than I can. Don't worry, I'll wait.
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Did you go?
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Good. Ok.
Basically, it's 100 days of SEX. With your SPOUSE.
I know, that was my reaction too. Wait, what? 100 days? Like, in a row? Yes. That's the idea. You commit to having sex with your partner at least once a day for 100 consecutive days. It's supposed to bring you (pardon the pun) "closer together". Something about putting your spouse higher on your priority list where they're supposed to be. You now, ABOVE loading the dishwasher and watching TV. Sex breeds intimacy, which in turn brings about all those tender warm and fuzzy feelings, and those supposedly make you actually want to spend time with that person and diffuses all kinds of tension (on so many levels).

The phenomenon of actually sleeping with your own significant other is sweeping Blogland. AFRo is doing it (no pun intended), Bad Mommy is giving it a go (again with the puns!), their readers are jumping on board (seriously now!), and they're all saying it's not as hard as it sounds (ok, that one was bad - heeheehee). Even the Big O (that would be Oprah, you pigs) did a show on it. THIS woman had to do us all (lol) one better and sleep with her husband every night for an entire year. Show off.

The Mommy has a built-in excuse. The Daddy is $100 worth of gas-and-ferry away. The Hundered Day project would quickly become the $10, 000 project. Not to mention the cost of all the alcohol that would be required... Post move I will have to be more creative in my avoidance.

But hey, the cold weather is coming right? Go on, get yours. Lower the thermostat and git yer fires lit from within.

I wonder if this will lead to a blogger baby boom?

Ingenuity

I went to my mom's house last night and neglected to bring Finnigan a clean diaper. Well the time came when he needed a clean diaper, so we had to get creative. Hmmm...
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You wanna know what he ended up wearing?
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C'mon, guess!
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He wore a folded up change-table cover, with a maxi pad stuck in it for absorbancy. The whole thing was pinned together with a BCGEU union pin.

Klassy.

Boys really are just small men

Any mother with experience raising boys AND girls will tell you that they might as well be different species. This is because boys are small men, and girls are small women, and we all know how similar those two types are. This point is driven home for me time after time after timeaftertimeaftertimeaftertime(...) with my young son. He is SUCH a MAN! He eats like a pig, and leaves food scattered a distance no less than equal to his full height in all directions whenever he does. He takes things apart and leaves them that way. He expects me to do all his laundry AND put it away. He will NOT ACCEPT that the square peg does not fit into the round hole. He is obsessed with his genitals. By the end of the day, he smells. He leaves dirty socks by the side of the crib. He doesn't help with dishes. He wont share the remote. He doesn't listen. He doesn't pick up after himself. He snores. He thinks art is just scribbles. He's got no sense of rhythm. He takes off all Barbie's clothes and puts her in his truck. He sleeps all day. He's got one coat, and one pair of shoes, and he's ok with that. He's riveted when things explode. He likes to pull dangerous stunts, like swan diving off the couch and eating things off the floor. He spends way to much time in the bathroom. He'd rather be dirty.

He loves his mama.

His mama loves him.

He is a little boy, but I can already see a man lurking beneath the surface.

I've got 16.5 years to pound it into something respectable enough to bring to dinner.

Rachel sings: "Row, row, row your boat".

Merely (different pronunciation from "merrily", I promise), merely, merely, merely,
Life is 'bout a dream!
Ha-ha, fooled you,
I'm a sumb-parine! ("Submarine". Work with me people.)

repeat x 1 million times.

FOR THE SWEET LOVE OF JESUS, PEDIGREE!!!

You have GOT to find a new ad campaign!!! Seriously now. Whomever pitched this current one to you is an asshole. Only someone who tongue-kisses their dog would be ok with a commercial where the disgusting sound of something without lips CHEWING for a full half-minute is the main focus.

I'll bet you're losing money, aren't you? Personally, your commercials send me into KILL mode, and it's affecting my feelings towards your company. Your current commercial, the one for Dentastix? Yeah, that one makes me want to rent a car and drive over some puppies. A LOT of puppies.

I understand the premise, really I do, but it's the accompanying sound track that's gotta go. I'm down with the simple white background and the dog enjoying his treat, but how about some nice muzak to go along with it? Or even just the half-aroused sounding guy who moans on about your product, he's fine. Just GET. RID. OF. THE. CHEWING. SOUNDS.

Don't make me go all Crazy White Girl on you.

Puppies' lives are at stake. A LOT of puppies. Fix it.

(Seriously, I'm begging you. It makes my bloodpressure skyrocket. I broke my computer mouse by throwing it at the tv because I couldn't find the remote fast enough...)

Just thought I'd let you all know...

...that I have a big ol' roast slowcooking in my kitchen, with spices, garlic, jalapenos, celery, carrots, worstershire sauce, onions, and bacon.

My house smells DE.LIC.IOUS.

So, who's coming for dinner?

(Seriously, it's like a 5lb roast, and it's just the kids & I. Bring dessert.)

Giveaways?

Giveaways seem to be the big new thing in Blog Land. Do I even have enough readers to pull off a giveaway? Lord knows I have enough stuff around here, I could stand to give some of it away! I'll clear out my "regifting" shelf before I move. ;) Stay tuned. I need to think up a contest...

Just add "Dentist" to my resume...

I just had to do the most disgusting thing ever. I want to throw up a little bit. I lanced a big pus-filled sac on Lily's gums. *Gagbarfhurl*

Lily has been whining for a few years days now that her gums hurt. I looked in there, and didn't see anything, so I figured she was just getting some new molars or needed to brush her teeth or something. Today she was being extra snively, so I looked again, and there it was.

A big, yellow, full-to-bursting puss-filled gum pimple. Staring at me through it's multiple heads.

No wonder her gums hurt.

We did the salt wash. We did the prescription mouth wash (leftover medication - shhhh. Rinse 'n' spit.) She whined. Incessantly. We even tried the warm compresses to try and draw it out.

Finally I couldn't take the whining anymore. We're going to DEAL with this thing!

She FREAKED when she saw me get the pin. FREAKED OUT. No faith, no faith at all.

I numbed her out with anebesol (thanks Finn!) and barely touched it with the pin, and KABLAMMO! Pus was literally running out of it. Like I say, the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. Yellow gross pus was running down her chin, mixing with the snot and tears and a bit of blood for good measure. Two paper towels and another dab of anebesol later, she's nearly good as new. Watching her try to rinse out her mouth was fun though, I guess the drool had swirled the numbing stuff around and made her whole mouth feel "thick". She didn't feel the water until she drooled it all over her clothes. She's laid up in bed now with a cold pack to shrink the swelling.

So, SO gross. I didn't realize I was signing up for this shit when I had kids.

I'm a good mom

Know how I know?

Rachel said she hates me.

(I wouldn't let her have her one pepsi a week for breakfast. Terrible.)

Stupid trees

We've hit a bit of a cold jag here, so I brought in my prissy little decorative fig/ficus benjamina trees inside. I think they're mad at me now. I think that outside, they felt like real trees. Birds landed on them, squirrels buried peanuts at their roots, the wind gently ruffled their leaves. Now my diva trees are giving me attitude. I turned the heat off completely and stuck them both by (poorly sealed) windows to help them acclimate, but they're still dropping leaves like tears. I watered them the night before I brought them in, and have been pretty much ignoring them since, aside from picking up dropped foliage before Finn eats it. Stupid trees. Anyone know what the want? Outside is not an option. They are small and weak and dramatic. They're a lot like the girls. Finn is short but solid, like the Monkey Puzzle tree that remains on the balcony. That tree is tough and stubborn. I forgot to water it for like a month (uhhh, I mean no I didn't. Really honey, I take care of your tree...) and it actually grew. This is my kind of tree. I don't like high-maintenance trees like the Diva Duo. There are already enough divas in this house.

Anybody know what I can do for these stupid trees that's more effective than shooting rubber bands at them? Because while that is fun, I know I'll just have to go pick them all up...

I just wish...

That I could take credit for this:

But alas, I pilfered it off of failblog.org

Still fun!

AARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!

*SCREAM*

Ok. I'm ok now. Glad I got that out.

Do you think I can petition God for shorter days? Or maybe just less waking hours for those under the age of 21? That'd be great. Hellions #1 and #2 were ALL. UP. in my face today. School is not long enough. Not by half. They destroyed the house - the house that was so spectacularly pristine when we returned from our trip. The house I spent hours pristine-ifying before we left, so that it would be so lovely to come home to. Destroyed. I wanted to take pictures for you all to show you, but my camera is missing among the wreckage. Six minutes to bedtime, and then I can begin to move mountains. If I don't post for a while, send a search party out, k?

Hellion #3 is on my last nerve. He is into EVERYTHING. He's just so. busy. He goes into drawers in the kitchen and scatters utensils everywhere. Then he picks things out of the "dirt pile" from my sweeping efforts and eats them. Then I have to figure out what they were, and whether or not it warrants a trip to the ER. No sooner do I get the sweepings into the garbage, then he's pushing buttons on my computer and doing who knows what. He makes my keyboard go into Spanish mode, and I still don't know how to fix that aside from smashing my open hand on it like he does until I hit the magical mystical combination that makes it all better. While I'm sorting that out, he's back to the drawer. Then the bottles for recycling, setting them up so that when I open that cupboard later, they all come cascading out like a waterfall. He will not stop stealing my lipgloss. He loves it. What a freak. I can't even pen him in, because he knows how to climb now. He stacks his toys up in his cage playpen and "falls" out. He knows how to get out of his highchair even if I strap him in! To make it all worse, when I FINALLY got a cup of coffee today, he got into that and dumped it all over himself and the floor. Obviously, it was cold - I haven't had a hot cup of coffee since '99. I think he did that last one just for spite. He's just so damn FAST! I don't remember the girls being this fast. This one needs a long yard and a zip line.

Honey, find us a house with a rubber room, k? The Mommy is going to need one.

k?thxbai.

Someone in Maryland GREW A BRAIN!!!

THIS is a great idea. Whomever is responsible for this is my Halloween Hero for 2008!

BEWARE THE SIGN. No, really. FINALLY we're labelling the sickos that prey on children. Next step: Forehead tattoos.

I haz an addicshun

It's name is Gymboree.

I blame the BHB.

I'm hoping that if I give in to all my cravings, I'll eventually OD and get sick of it. If not, well, at least my kids will be well dressed!

Home Again

I went away for a few days and got stuck there - I did NOT fall off the face of the earth. I can't prove it though, because I left my camera at home. How dang cool would those pictures have been though, eh?

(The ones "off the face of the earth", not... Nevermind.)

The Mommy's Look-alike Meter

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celebrity - Collage - Morph

The Mommy's Look-alike Meter

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celebrity - Collage - Morph

The Mommy's Look-alike Meter

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celeb - Collage - Morph

OMG...

I FOUND THEM. OMG OMG OMG... I had such a heart attack. Visions of identity theft were running through my brain. More vivid visions of having to spend about $100 to get new ones were making me want to throw up. But I found them

Thank you thank you thank you Tracy! They were just where you said they'd be!

BTW, Finn's good name has been cleared. He emptied my purse, but he gave everything in it back - the birth certificates were in the side pocket of the basket I used as a diaper bag for daycare. I haven't used it since I got laid off, obviously, so out of sight = out of mind. (Tracy being my former daycare provider. I swear the woman knows everything.)

Calling all psychics!

I lost Rachel's birth certificate. AHHHH! Tell me where to look, I am tearing my house apart! I've gone through my purse a thousand times, that's where I always keep it, and now it's gone. I'm desperate - any ideas?? Anyone?!?

WWYD?

I got stopped yesterday by my landlord. Apparently one of the other buildings' sewage system (he said "septic" but we're on sewers here? WTF?) had backed up, necessitating a complete sucking-out to the tune of over $1000. The cause of said back up? A stuffed animal jammed down one of the exterior pipes. The cause of the stuffed animal being stuffed down one of the exterior pipes? Evidently, a Rachel. Well, a Rachel and another little girl, "C". However, there is more to the story. The pipe, as I say, is accessable from outside. It has a removeable cap when it SHOULD have a locking one. C's family have been problematic since they moved in. I spoke to Rachel about the incident, and she swears up and down that it was "C" who put the toy down the pipe. My landlord has three or four reports form witnesses, but I didn't think to ask him at the time if anyone specifically saw Rachel do anything, or if - as she said - she was just there when it happened. Landlord is going to speak to the "board" re: absorbing some of the bill due to the cap not being properly affixed. However, since this could be considered "Tenant Damage", C's family and I would be responsible for the remainder of the bill. That's just what I need before I move! Poor Rachel. As her mommy, I usually have a pretty good idea about when she's lying or not - and in this case, I believe her. I thought about letting her talk to the landlord but who's going to believe a five year old? It makes me kind of sad for her, because she's pretty powerless to make people believe her simply by virtue of being a child. I believe her, but up against eye-witness reports naming her (if not specifying her role in the incident) are hard to argue with, especially since it's all "confidential". I didn't punish Rachel. She said she didn't do it and I believe her. If I have to eat the bill, so be it.

Some background on C's family; not to lend credence to my story, simply because it's somewhat related and I want to get it off my chest!

1. I have spoken to other mothers in my complex recently, and I'm pretty sure they are where the lice outbreak originated. C seems to be Patient Zero, as it were. What's worse is that her parents seem unwilling to follow through with treatments, as she has been brought home by other parents, her lice situation explained to her parents, been treated with shampoo and sent right back out! :0 :0 :0 If there's one thing I know by now, it's that SHAMPOOS ALONE ARE NOT COMPLETE LICE TREATMENTS. Nit picking is essential. Yes, it takes hours. Yes, it sucks, but YES it is NECESSARY. She's not being nit-picked, so the lice keep coming back and back and back... That, along with the fact that her and her brothers and sisters (no one is really sure how many of them there are. They're like amoeba, I think. Just when you think you've counted them all, they split off and double...) are loose all day in the complex, I shudder to think of the bug carpet they must be spreading. It's like Hansel and Gretal, except instead of breadcrumbs, it's bugs. Creepy crawly little bugs that vant to suck your blooood. El grosso. So many of us other moms want to just grab them and pick out the eggs ourselves, but don't want a big fat "You touched my child" lawsuit. C's dad's solution? He told her to not scratch in front of people!!! :0 Like that will solve anything!!!
2. Like I say, the kids are loose all. day. long. I bet I could adopt one and no one would notice. Maybe the little twins, they're pretty cute. I'd have to de-louse them and bathe them with a brillo pad first, but still...
3. The older sister has something fundamentally wrong with her. Rachel got the bright idea to have a pretend picnic on the trunk of our car (No, not allowed in the parking lot. Yes, got punished big time.) and the older sister, "K", decided to let herself and all her siblings into my car, then found a rogue carton of milk from one of the girls' school lunches and dribbled the gross, curdled, chunky cheese-milk ALL OVER MY INTERIOR!!! I have never wanted to kill someone else's child more than I did in that moment. I got a call from a neighbour telling me there was a neighbourhood's worth of children in my car, and when I went to investigate I saw that. All over the passenger seat, all over and IN the center console, all over the ENTIRE backseat, including three carseats (and we all know how ANAL-TO-THE-NTH-DEGREE I am about Finn's stuff. The girls' carseats have removeable covers.). You know what I did? I bypassed mom and dad, went around the complex gathering up their urchins, and made THEM clean it out! I handed them bags and lysol, and latex gloves, and stood over them giving them the look until I was satisfied. The ONE TIME I clean out my car, this is what happens... Geez. (My car had been cleaned. I really don't know where the milk came from. Under the seat?)

I really don't think you need any more, do you? Useless parents, wild children, and a big fat bill for me. Lovely.

When am I moving again?

It's a... Hmmm...

With Thanksgiving coming for us Canucks, Turkeys are the theme of classrooms far and wide. This is a difficult concept when you are in grade one, as evidenced by the following conversation I had with Rachel:

Rachel: Mommy, look what I made today!
Me: What is it baby girl?
R: It's a... Umm... Pea-hawk.
R: No! I mean a Pang-Win.
R: I forget. I think it's a Rooster.
R: But mommy, it's really a, like a, Oss-Rich.
M: Little Ray?
R: Yes mama?
M: I'm pretty sure it's a Turkey.
R: Ohhhhh. That's what I meant.

For the record, it was a neon-green, orange-striped, pink-polka-dotted turkey with blue toenails and a ripped-off wattle because Rachel said it was "ug-a-ly". His name is Princess Turkeyface.

They're not STICKERS!!!

Rachel is obsessed with Bandaids. Ob. Sessed. To the point where I have to have a rule in my house: No blood, no bandaid. Otherwise she has a bandaid stuck to her for every bump, bruise, and bug bite. I swear to you, once a fly landed on her and she wanted a bandaid for it. She's happiest when wrapped up in bandages mummy-style.

Let's just say that after our latest actual bleeding episode (her scraped knee) I accidentally left the box of bandaids on the counter, instead of in their box-inside-another-box-inside-a-cupboard-on-the-highest-shelf-mommy-needs-a-stepstool usual spot.

There are now bandaids holding the Rachel together. There are bandaids holding Rachel's bed together. And her toybox. Her dolls all have numerous boo-boos. Her blanket has a Bandaid mosaic on it. The TV's buttons are first-aided to within an inch of their lives. The bandaids on her doorknob are three-bandaids thick.

And there is not a single unused bandaid in the house. Tonight, no doubt, will be the night I cut my finger open.

I really ought to take out stock in the company...

Payback's a mutha

It took the girls ALL. DAY. to clean their room. I promised I'd do the vaccuming. I'll post pics if I ever make it off the couch to do it.

I only hope that their children make them pay for this, the way they are making me pay for doing it to my mother, whom no doubt did it to her mother, whom...

Seriously? No one wants these?

These are boots I have that I'm trying to unload. I can't believe nobody wants them! Seriously, how cool are these? They've never been worn even, lol, I don't have the ankle strength. ;)

Meh, I don't get it. Stupid boots, taking up precious space in my shoe area.

One man's junk is another man's... Junk.

I am having a ridiculously difficult time getting rid of some stuff on Craigs List. Some surprising, some not. Apparently my giant vanity is 1940's "Waterfall" furniture and worth essentially nothing. I can't pay people to take it. Dawn, you come up here - it's yours. If not, I'll be taking the ginormous mirror off and sending the rest to the vultures that pick through my garbage bins.

Sigh. I'm going to have to move everything I want out, and then post a free-for-all ad. That should be fun. Sigh.

Methinks...

... that it is time to go grocery shopping:

I've gone BLIND!

Test your "Hue IQ".

I scored a 4. I hear that's good!

So, what did you get?

Not my fault - not my problem

This is so stupid I can't even formulate a coherent post. I'll do my best, but I'm not making any promises.

My power got shut off today. Oh no, no no no, it gets better. My power got shut off when my bill is paid IN FULL.

I got my bill. I paid my bill. I paid my bill ON TIME. In full. My bank processed my paid bill.

The power company shut me off.

I came a wee bit unglued.

I called the power company. They told me, many times, that because they had not processed my bill, they did not "know" I'd paid my bill, and so they'd assumed I hadn't and shut me off.

My bill was $80. Guess how much the reconnect fee is?

Higher.

No, higher.

$131.25. One hundred thirty one dollars and twenty five cents to reconnect power that got turned off because THEY HAD NOT PROCESSED MY PAYMENT. Now, I got the worlds rudest customer service representative, and I was pretty steamed, so I saw red through most of the following conversation, but it went roughly like this:

Me: Hi. My power has been shut off, and I know my bill is paid in full, so what's going on?
Representative: We're showing that you didn't pay the bill, so your power was disconnected.
Me: No, my bill is paid in full, and was paid by the "due by" date listed. Confirmation number xxxxx, date xx/xx/xxxx, banks telephone number xxx-xxx-xxxx. I have written confirmation of processing by my bank showing that the money was legally in your company's possession a FULL 24hours before you shut my power off.
R: Well, you know it says right on your bill that you should call us and tell us when you pay.

--(Right about now I morphed into Kika the Super Bitch)--

Me: Yes, I REALIZE that it says I "should" call. Do YOU know that there is actually a difference between SHOULD and HAVE TO?? SHOULD is optional. HAVE TO is NECESSARY. Are we clear? "Should" implies choice. "Have to" implies requirement. I am not REQUIRED to tell you I paid my bill. I am required to pay my bill in the time frame laid out. Which I did.
R: Well, the fact is that you were approved for termination of services, so if you want the power turned back on, you'll have to pay the reconnection fee of $131.25, call us with confirmation, and then we can submit a requisition to have services reinstated.
M: Out of morbid curiosity, how long would that take?
R: 2-5 business days. That's standard procedure.
M: I'm not paying your stupid fee when my bill was paid on time. Frankly, I don't care about your "procedure". I have a whole trail of paper that proves the total amount owing on MY bill for MY services was submitted in due time to your company. I'm right, you're wrong.
R: Well there's no way for me to waive the fee, so you have to pay it before you can get your power back on.
M: Ok, first of all - it does NOT cost $131.25 to flip a damn switch. Second of all, I'm not paying a fee for something that occurred due to an error on YOUR end. Put me through to someone with a higher IQ than my bathmat, please.
(Transfer to supervisor)
Me: (Re-explains situation a tad curtly.)
Supervisor: Well, I'm sorry but there's nothing we can do. You were approved to be disconnected, our computers did not show any payment being made.
M: MY computer, and MY BANK'S computer beg to differ.
S: You should have called to report your payment.
M: I don't have to call to report my payment. I have to pay what I owe by the due date. I did that.
S: Well, we don't have enough people to process all the payments, so people should call in so this doesn't happen. (See, this is where she went wrong.)
M: It is NOT. MY. PROBLEM. that you don't have enough staff. I'm sorry that your corrupt company has chosen to outsource to third world countries and cut staffing back to skeleton crew. I'm SORRY that the economy is biting the big one and the almighty bottom line is more important to you than the customer. Because you don't care about people, do you? All you care about is DOLLARS, which leads you to justify, in your minimally trained mind, charging a single mom with three small children who herself got laid off recently an amount that totals ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY percent of my original bill - which might I remind you I paid IN FULL and ON TIME. Do you know what a "Service Monopoly" is? A Service Monopoly is when one company is the SOLE PROVIDER of said service in a given area. You, power company, are a Service Monopoly. This allows you to ding me with whatever ridiculous service fees you can invent to pad your profit margin because you know there's not a damn thing I can do about it. So me, and every other customer you terrorize have to just bend over while you money-grubbing assholes get fat off our backs and, quite literally, take food away from our children. How do you even sleep at night?
S: You're becoming irate.
M: You're pissing me off.
S: I feel for your situation, so I will submit the forms to have your power reinstated - but you will have to pay the reconnection fee with your next bill.
M: Oh the hell with you and your service fees.
*Click*

Remember a few posts back when I said articulate people get what they want? I was not articulate. I did not get what I want. Well, I got half of what I want - my power is obviously back on (2-5 days my ass, it was more like 2-5 hours.) but I'll still be getting slapped with the totally unjust reconnection fee.

However. Power is billed bi-monthly. I am moving. By the time my next bill is late, I won't even live here, and thus do not care one iota if they shut off the power. I'm sorely tempted to just hang the bill and let them waste their time and money tracking me down to get their money - with me fighting them every step of the way, obviously. However, I hope to someday buy a house, and would need some semblance of credit to do so.

I still wish there was some way to make them eat the fee... Suggestions?

BC Hydro - You are dead to me.

Keep your fingers crossed...

...that the girls get in:
http://www.cathedralschool.ca/
The Daddy is meeting with the school in the next week to talk application. Here's hoping!

Thought for the day:

You have to hit the ground before you'll bounce.

Food for though - chew on it a bit.

Picture for Daddy

Baby's first fleece of the season. :)

Stick is no longer sick

Lily is all better.

Finn's fever started today at noon.

I'm sending Rach to Tibet.

Well, THAT lasted long...

I used to have clean floors. I even took a picture! Then Finn happened.

Notice how he even got it on the wall. Sigh.

Things Finnigan likes:

• My purse.
• Carrying my purse around
• While I chase him.
• Hiding. With my purse.
• Dumping my purse out.
• Investigating everything he finds in my purse.
• Lipgloss. Both for eating and for sculpture/painting.
• Keys.
• Credit cards.
• Shredding receipts.
• Eating my gum, mints, lollipops, and especially my X-tra hot Hot Tamales FIRE cinnamon candies.
• When I tell him he's a rotton Finnergan and I'm going to beat his little baby behind and then I smother him in kisses.