Mid-CenturyModernMoms

I'd Walk Away From This Deal or Why I Won't Deal with the Mass. RMV

------An extra post not really about teenagers, but about other tribulations of a mid-century modern mom.

Ora just bought herself a new toy car.  It's a 2010 Toyota Prius.

Rosie adores it and is looking forward six years to college graduation when she can potentially call this car her own.

The car was ordered before ora took off on her Spanish adventure.  And then she waited.

Last week, Ora was home sick with (the flu??) and she finally (only about a month) got the call that her car was here, and when was she going to bring into the dealer the check and the title for the Suburu.  Because this was a cash deal, but some of it involved trading in deceased hubbie's manual transmission station wagon- which Ora does not like to drive (but can), but also that Abe can't drive at all.  Why keep this as a second car under these circumstances?

Ora couldn't just run over to the Toyota dealer because the check had to be certified from the bank (and not a personal check).  But Ora's bank is near work, and she is sick- and not going near work for several more days.  But this wasn't a (serious) problem since there was another branch not too far away.  Okay.

And the title for the Suburu was in the fire-safe box at home (instead of in the safe deposit box at yet another bank).

So Ora is at the dealer the next day and handing over the check and the car title.

BUT...... (and there's always a but)

When the Suburu was re-titled several months before into Ora's name alone (from joint ownership with deceased hubbie), this had been a problem experience with the (shudder) Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles (the RMV).

And by the time that the new title was written, Ora had mistakenly said that the mileage on the Suburu was higher than the real reading on the odometer.

So when it came time to hand in this title and trade in the car, the title STILL had a higher mileade than the odometer.

 

Oops!

The dealer says (to Ora) that you need to go to the RMV and get s new title on this trade-in.

NO WAY!!!

Ora says that she will walk away from buying her new toy car if she has to deal with the Massachusetts RMV.

And the dealer just looked at Ora like she was a crazy lady, even though she offered to write an affadavit saying that she made a mistake with the title mileage.

But Ora is sick- and even if she weren't, dealing with the RMV is enough to make anyone sick.  And it would require at least three visits (because it always does)- or more, and a lot of wasted time to resolve the issue.

[Keep repeating: Ora will NOT drive herself nuts in dealing with the RMV!]

And lo and behold, if Ora signed some magic document form, this could be dealt with (by the dealer) without Ora having to personally deal with the RMV (shudder).
 
The dealer threatened an additional charge for this service, but that didn't get passed along.  There was already a fee (or two) on the new car for the dealer to deal with the RMV.

The end of the story is that Ora has her brand new car and she held her ground and didn't have to personally deal with the dreaded Massachusetts RMV.  the RMV is enough to make you sick all over again!

Are you smarter than a school social worker?

Back story, the Cliff Notes version: school district Powers That Be decided on a re-eval for Amigo's autism for fear of our filing a formal complaint with the state. 

We met with the team to discuss our feelings and meet the diagnostician. This went well, despite the school social worker's inability to locate the release forms and failure to confirm that she had everything she needed from us. As she flipped through her chaotic files to find what should have been easily accessible, Chuck tried not to smirk. This school social worker was part of the team that created a flurry of errors last spring leading us to consider filing a complaint with the state Department of Public Instruction. Ms. "I'm just the paper pusher!" didn't even seem to do that task well.

And now, without further ado, excerpts from Actual Emails:

School social worker: Can we meet for an IEP on Monday, November 30?

Daisy: Mondays are bad for Chuck. Please find another day and date.

School social worker: How about Tuesday, December 15?

Chuck: This date is already booked; doesn't work for either of us.

School social worker: Then how about Monday, December 7?

Chuck: Mondays are bad. No Mondays. Do not attempt to set up a meeting on a Monday.

School social worker: silence.

A week later, an email arrived in my box asking "How about December 15 at 3:30?"

Me, to Chuck: "Should we enlighten her or just let her stew for a few days before we respond?"

Chuck's response (to me, not to her) included a long and involved parody of Monty Python and the Holy Grail with us as the Knights seeking the Holy IEP. I won't burden you, but I will say that I kept his email in my archives in case I need a little humor to help me handle the situation. However, it got worse, and Chuck lost his cool.

Two days later- School Social Worker: "Is it possible to make November 30 work at all?"

Chuck: "I understand that this is a difficult time of the year to be trying to schedule something.  Unfortunately November 30th is a Monday.  On Mondays I have to engineer Coach (insert name of major NFL coach here)'s TV show and later on that evening, another team-related live show.  I have to be there.  I cannot go up to the Head Coach of the (insert name of team here) and tell him 'Sorry, we can’t do your show today.'  I said earlier that Mondays are not going to work and now you know why.  Find something other than a Monday!!!"

So really, are you smarter than a School Social Worker? I'm sure you're smarter than this one. I sincerely believe she doesn't represent the field as a whole - and don't correct me if I'm wrong.

Home Alone

Margalit's kids are home alone.  Margalit is back in the hospital to try to figure out why she keeps having to go into the hospital.  Of course, what was supposed to have been 2 days at a major Boston hospital has now been extended to 8-9 days.  But the Boy and the Girl have been by themselves, with drop ins from lots of adults checking on them.

Ora can report that the house had not been destroyed and that the kids were not fighting with each other- although we won't talk about the pile of dirty dishes in the sink!

Even though Margalit's kids drive her absolutely crazy, they seem to have risen to the unfortunately more frequent occasion and are growing up.  Wow.

Hopefully, she'll be released soon, with some answers.  She is okay, but everything is just taking lots longer than it should.  And while Margalit is luxuriating in the spa known as Brigham & Womens, she has had more than her share of bloggable moments, mostly centered on the elderly roommates that she has had to endure.  It seems that if you are sick and old in the Boston area, you get a free pass to yell at any nurse or aide for any reason, preferably in a language other than English.  Regardless of what your original language is the ability to understand simple compounds in English is beyond the capabilities of her roommates.  The best was the Portuguese lady who didn't know that you had to push a button to answer the phone!  Margalit will hopefully be back at full strength in the coming weeks.  But meanwhile, the Boy and the Girl will continue to do her proud as they show their independence.

Leaving Them Behind

Right now, Ora is off on a grand adventure.  Okay, it's with her father, but it's still a big adventure.  And Abe and Rosie are not along for the ride!!

Ora is in Spain, specifically Barcelona and Alicante (the beach). 

 Zeyde asked if I wanted to accompany him to Spain several months ago and I first said no, how could I leave Rosie for so long during a school week?  But Rosie said- hey mom, you should go.  I'll stay with this friend and then that friend....

So I agreed to go (twist my arm really hard).  Rosie is off on a mini-adventure because she gets to stay with our cousins and their little boy, Tree.  Tree is 3 years old and loves Rosie.  And Rosie is one of the few people that Tree's mom lets to help take care of him!

Abe is going to stay at his school.  This means that he won't come home for about a month, since he was just home so much for the jewish holidays.  He's a little upset about that, but he's all for mom's grand adventure too!

But right before I left, Rosie said to me.  Mom, don't go on too many of these long trips while I'm in school anymore. (Read that, don't leave me home/at friends/releatives while you are off having fun; but also it's a pain to pack up and move and take all of my school books with me).  But she agreed that I could go away for a week (without her) once a year.

But I certainly need to leave Rosie with lots of hugs- and I look forward to getting them when I get home!
 

Random acts of weirdness

Heard around our universe ...

Z-man: I think I weigh 120 now -- with my clothes on.

Evil Mother: Really. How tall are you now?

Z-man: *previously short dude grinning with newfound height* 5-foot-8.

The Roo-girl: Hmmm. I'm just barely 5 feet, and I weigh 100 pounds.

Evil Mother: Mostly muscle.

The Roo-girl reaches her arms in the air and stretches langorously.

Evil Mother and Z-man: *in unison* And BOOBS!

The Roo-girl: *smirking* If you've got 'em ...

Please note this was the girl who bemoaned her undeveloped state not too long ago. She is now ... ahem ... more boobish than me. Grrrrrrr.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Roo-girl: *crankily* I don't want to be up now.

Evil Mother: Me either, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

The Roo-girl: I can't WAIT to own my own business.

*pause*

The Roo-girl: I'm not going to open until 11 every day!

Evil Mother: Not so good for business if you don't open early.

The Roo-girl: I. DON'T. CARE.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Roo-girl: Come ON, Mom. We need to stop at the 'Bucks before school. Coffee! I need coffee!

*Time out while I finish getting ready for work and we drive to the local Starbucks*

The Roo-girl: I'll have a vanilla bean frappuccino.

Evil Mother: *bursts out laughing ... because apparently she's the only one who realizes vanilla bean fraps are COFFEE-FREE drinks*

Originally posted at From the Planet of Janet

Mom, I need a flu shot.

What?! The teenager volunteering to get immunized? Yes, you heard it here, folks. The resident 17-year-old at my house wants to get both the seasonal flu and the H1N1 vaccines. He's been on my case for a while.

I interpret his eagerness this way. When he was 16, influenza hit him hard. He missed a week of high school classes. Following that, he developed an ear infection. Or was the acne medicine the first piece? It all runs together. His anxiety played a part, too. I remember vividly coming home from his IEP meeting, giving him the antibiotic for his acne and an hour later seeing him toss his cookies, er, meds, er... lose it.

It took months. Not weeks, but months, to put him through enough testing to rule out severe illnesses and reach a diagnosis of IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome), better known as What They Call it When The Docs Don't Have a Clue.

Meanwhile, ten percent of my school is currently out with flu-like symptoms, including almost a third of my class today. That's not counting the one who was looking a bit peaked during math (sick of multiplication properties, perhaps) and the one who developed a nosebleed after lunch. A school volunteer picked up antibacterial wipes at the Dollar Store and donated to each room. I used up a sizable handful of mine cleaning doorknobs, clipboards, desks, and other frequently handled objects. I even wiped down my own desk - twice!

It's my theory that Amigo fears influenza now because he dreads the idea of suffering another lengthy illness. His way of protecting himself is to nag his mother about getting a flu shot or two. And I'm okay with that.

The dating game

The Roo-girl sorta-kinda-maybe had her first date on Saturday night.

Sorta-kinda-maybe?

Let me explain.

For some inexplicable reason, my daughter believed it would be fun to go to homecoming dances at other schools. Her latest BFF, Julie, had a date for one and didn't want to go "alone." Accordingly, she recruited Roo to "go with." As part of this process for any school other than her own, Roo had to have a boy to get her a guest pass.

And so, Julie got her a boy.

In Roo's mind, this was just an access pass to the dance. But apparently, in the boy's mind, this was a date.

No amount of motherly advice would break through to her. We even talked about what would happen if Julie and her date sucked face the entire time and how she would feel about that.

Her words, and I quote: "Julie PROMISED me that she wouldn't do that."

Uh-oh.

So, with great trepidation, I sent her off to Julie's house, a limo and homecoming at a local'ish  Catholic school.

I also sent her off with this piece of mommy'ness: "If you get yourself into a situation where you are uncomfortable, CALL ME. I will pick you up from wherever, no questions asked."

I'm not sure how to describe what happened next. She texted me at 7:45 p.m. to say "Hi, I'm still alive."

We traded texts for a few minutes about how she wasn't really having fun, that the boy was clingy, how she wasn't interested in him, and I reiterated my willingness to pick her up WHENEVER.

I heard nothing until close to 11. And then the phone calls began.

"Please come get me. I can't get into the limo and watch Julie making out again."

And so I got off my sickbed (yes, I have been dying of some nasty bug), as promised, and drove like a bat out of hell the 16 miles to the "other" school.

"Are you almost here? It's dark and I'm alone."

I put the pedal to the metal and broke a few land-speed records.

"Mommy, where are you?"

I found my sobbing daughter standing on the sidewalk by the school, in the dark, with only a few stray people still there.

She confirmed then that HE was on a date; SHE was not.

And she felt horrible about it. Angry at her BFF, who made her uncomfortable by -- as I figured -- sucking face all night. Embarrassed. Humiliated.

There was little usefulness, at that point, to explain the mathematics of dating to her: Boy + girl + limo + dance = date.

She has a lot to learn.

And a good time was had by all (amazingly)

Imagine there's no heaven 

It's easy if you try 

No hell below us 

Above us only sky 

Imagine all the people Living for today 

Imagine there's no countries, 

It isn't hard to do 

Nothing to kill or die for 

And no religion too 

Imagine all the people Living life in peace 

You may say I'm a dreamer 

But I'm not the only one I hope some day you'll join us 

And the world will be as one I

magine no possessions I wonder if you can 

No need for greed or hunger 

A brotherhood of man 

Imagine all the people Sharing all the world 

You may say I'm a dreamer But I'm not the only one 

I hope some day you'll join us 

And the world will live as one

John Lennon IMAGINE

 

Now imagine, 23 people spread out over 3 rooms eating, talking and playing games with each other.  16 of these people are all related to each other (and the other 7 are all related to each other, but the two groups aren't related to each other!)

So you have many adults, some teenagers (young to older) and a bunch of kids.  Now imagine (because it was real), that NO ONE was fighting with each other.  The kids and the younger teens were all playing nicely together and the adults were talking in different combinations.

I do have to admit that the barely controlled chaos of this dinner on the second night of Rosh Hashana caused Abe to run away and hide out playing computer games.  But, when I think back over the years where he would've had some sort of outburst, verbal or physical, which would destroy the mood for everyone, the fact that he knows his limits and pulled back was just fine in my book.

But the kids and young teens were all playing together nicely.  And this group included more than one special needs kid!!  There was a mankala game sitting out on the side of the fireplace- simply because the place where it normally was kept had been moved. 

It was so sweet that my little niece came up to me saying, "Auntie Ora, can you teach me how to play this?" (She normally decides that she wants little interaction with me.)  So we played and then more of the kids wanted to learn how to play, and then some of the boys asked about another game and someone went downstairs and brought up Battleship.  But the kids were all behaving so nicely in the midst of lots of commotion.

Just imagine.  It was a holiday dinner in the truest sense of the words.  I'm glad that I slaved to put it on. (but it won't happen again for a loonnng time!)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of Back to School

Today's post will be a collection of thoughts about the beginning of the school year.

It's so nice not to be the only one up in the morning.  Rosie comes over and gives Mom a hug before eating breakfast.

Oh, no.  Now I need to get serious in thinking about Abe's future!

But he's doing so great at his internship....  

Is he going to be ready to take on a full college workload- with ot without supports?  Will he avail himself of those supports?  Is he going to be able to live independently in a college dorm?

Shopping for a few new things for Rosie is so much fun (especially after Wendy went through her clothes and got her to see that she really only needed a few things!)

Mom (a chemist by training) gets to be a Chemistry tutor to Rosie and friends this year.  (Is that a good or a bad?  I'm afraid it might get ugly.)

Whining about homework (from Rosie).

Writing a half dozen small (ish) checks to the school for this book or that lab kit.

But a great thing, is that, during the school year, Rosie actually talks to me.  True, it's only about the academic side of things and not any of the personal stuff, but I'll take what I can get.

Total Tourists

We just got back from the most fantastic vacation trip to San Diego!!  It was me (Ora), the kids (Abe and Rosie) and my Dad (Zeyde).  I had planned this trip last year before Jim died and we decided to still go.  (Dad was already included)

We were the proto-typical tourists in shorts, hats and carrying guidebooks and cameras.  And we had a ball!!

 

 We went to Seaworld (twice)

 The first time, on the first day, we started in the morning and went until dinner time

And then we came back another day to see the shows in the evening

to the Wild Animal Park (morning to noon and then at dusk)

The heat was horrible!!!  We were all dying- and refilling the water bottles all of the time, so we left around 1 pm and then came back at 6 pm.  The animals were a lot more awake then.

to the San Diego Zoo (a little disappointing after the Wild Animal Park)- but the monkeys were Rosie's favorites

While Abe's favorites were the elephants

And everyone loves the Pandas!!!

to the Old Town- the original site of San Diego, to the aircraft carrier the USS Midway (Abe and I both could've spent a LOT more time there) and to the Marine Recruit Depot Museum

to Coronado Island (boring), and to the beach (yes, we all got sunburned there).

And best of all, there was very little sniping or grumbling.  No one was yelling at anyone else (except to get Abe moving in the mornings) and we ALL had a really good time.

San Diego is a lovely place to visit and even though we were very busy seeing things, we didn't see even half of everything. I even came back relaxed and Zeyde thanked me for inviting him along.  I would love to go back.