What's My Sign Today? Hold Please

Today, I spent 30 minutes trying to get back onto my blog, because I forgot the password to my email, and thus had to get the code from my phone to access my email so I could then access the password for the blog. Getting the code meant finding the phone, which I'd put on silent yesterday and now couldn't find by sound.  

My son needs documentation proving he is the age I say he is, birth certificate proves he was born, but not who he is now, ergo we need his student ID, which he has lost, which prevents me from taking him to get a learner's permit or a social security card.  So I need him to go get a new student ID so I can then take the student ID to go get him a social security card so we can then go and have him take a test to get a learner's permit.  We also need my oldest college student to give me documentation so I can add her to the insurance, and only a DL will do.  She's not here so I need to email her to send me a copy so I can go to the office and give the copy to the officials.

Or I can bring my tax forms, but since they were filed over the internet, the signature page isn't signed, so it doesn't count unless I go by the accountant, have them sign, and then bring it.   The accountant isn't open on Monday, so it will have to wait until tomorrow before it can begin.

My entire morning can be summed up as "There's a Hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza."  The entire world is giving me the message, "Be back in five minutes.  Hold please."  I recognize when the universe is saying give up, try again tomorrow.  I yield.

If anyone needs me this afternoon, I'll be slumming on my bed watching Netflix and eating chocolate.

You Can't Get There

Last Friday, my oldest son called.  In his senior year, he simply has to finish all of his classes and student teaching to acquire a double major in English and Education.  One class in one subject remained.  The only semester it is offered, is the spring. The only time it is offered, required my son to pray public transit would somehow magically transport him back to campus every time within moments of the fifteen minute grace period of being fashionably late.  He talked to people but couldn't skype, independent study or transfer the credits from another university.  The options remained: graduate without the double degree --but this would hurt his chances with graduate school, or gainful employment as it would prevent certification; wait for the next year and work on a masters in the meantime but this would also eliminate some of the opportunities he currently seeks, take the class but never show up...something he doesn't do, or beg, plead and grovel in hopes of the college seeing things his way.  Alas, none of these worked.

So we bought a car and gave him the old one thus eliminating the transportation issue for him.

Which leads me to ask: Is it more cost effective to purchase a car with payments for five years, or to pay for an additional year of college?

Answer: Boo. No. None of the above.

But it's good. We needed to replace our vehicle, it is now twelve years old with enough mileage to have circled the world 8 times over.  I told myself, it's all good. They can learn to drive on the small car.

On Monday, I sought to take care of some paper work for my second daughter. She registered for the PSAT back as a freshman, and put down her name as she is called in the home.  Unfortunately, her legal names begins with another name, and to go in to take college boards, the identification has to match exactly.  I shifted through our documents.  We didn't have the necessary materials.  I ordered them.  They arrived.  I needed to fax (Who faxes anymore) the papers to a number.  We had an old printer which said it faxes, but it doesn't.  I tried.  I tried multiple times before the printer decided in addition to not faxing, it would also stop printing.  So we needed a new printer/fax machine to send the documents. I used a friend's machine.  We got an email (not a fax) the next day.  The stuff I sent in?  Too dark. Send again.

 Did we go get a new printer too?  Yes, we did. I'm setting it up. Hoping that when I'm done, I can copy the i.d. in a lighter tone and then fax it from home so that they will change the name on the registration which will then allow us to sign up for and pay so that she can take her SAT.

Which leads to the following perfect for the SAT question:

If requirement A makes Mom's hair frizz and her eyes bug out, and requirement B is necessary for C which must be done in order to fulfill requirement A, which must be done in order that the normal future of all life continue, how long before Mom borrows a bat and begins taking out her frustrations on the broken printing machine?  

Answer....this afternoon.  I'll be roasting s'mores over the lifeless husk of the old printer after I beat it senseless.

My dad tells the story about how once he and some friends were on a fishing trip, and got lost (in the age before GPS) on the backroads of Louisiana.  They flagged down a local man walking with his dog.  "Excuse me sir, do you know how to get to Port Mansfield?" my father asked.

The man smiled and let out a low whistle.  "Yeah I do, but you ain't going right." and kept on walking with his dog.  

I have had a week of "Yeah I do, but you ain't going right."  

Next week I tackle valentines cards for six classes and three science projects.  It may be time to find myself lost in Louisiana.  

Dear Liza, Dear Liza

When did my life become one big round robin of "There's a Hole in My Bucket?"

We moved into our home two and a half years ago. One of the things we loved was the master bathroom. It's posh. It felt like part of a hotel suite with the large double sinks, deep tub, dusty cocoa brushed walls with gold trim and a leaf stencil design. What we especially appreciated was the watercloset with its own door. Sure it felt a bit claustrophobic, but it was miles ahead of our prior master bathroom of avocado green with black formica trim and a ill concieved large window to the outside just before the shower door. No shade. No drapes.

As I said, we loved the new master bath with the private bathroom until three months into our move. The bulb in the overhead fan burnt out. This was a problem because our new home was 1000 times swankier than our prior house. The fan seemed like a sealed unit, such that prying made us fearful we would break something.

We couldn't open the fan to change the bulb. For a month or so, we remained in the dark. Then, we tried those battery operated tap lights. They lasted a week. I tried leaving a flashlight in the room. One or two drops and the flashlight became a broken plastic hollow tube for storing batteries.

Humanity can get used to anything if harrassed or distracted enough. We learned to lock the outside door and leave a sliver of light. Weeks passed into months. Occasionally, we'd get out the step ladder and poke a bit at the fan, but to no avail. Eventually, we forgot about the idea of a working lightbulb in the bathroom. Years past.

Now there is a family friend, a jack of all trades that I asked if he could maybe come and do a few of the odd jobs around our house. I mentioned this one in particular. He dropped by while most of us were at mass on Sunday. My son let him in, but neglected to tell us he visited. So for four weeks, we did not know that he had opened the fan and taken out the bulb. When he finally asked if we had purchased new bulbs for him to put in, I backtracked to the son who simply said, "Oh yeah. The bulb was burnt out so I left it on a tray in the laundry room over the dryer."

Racing to the laundry room, there was the bulb. A bulb unlike any other light bulb I have ever seen. It was also broken and fearing a child getting cut, I threw it out.

Naturally when it came time to shop for the replacement, I couldn't remember "exactly" what type of bulb it was, just that it was long, had a square pin bottom and looked like two long fingers.  My description did not endear me to the Home Depot sales rep.  Despite having fifty thousand types of bulbs including the kind you plant in the ground, they didn't have mine. 

There are errands that require you to set your teeth and run until you get it done.  So despite the rain, despite leaving my kids in aftercare perilously close to the time when one must pick up, despite having to schelp to three different stores, I Scarlett O'hara vowed with God as my witness, not to go in the dark any longer.  And I did fix it.  We did get the bulb.  It is now installed in our master bathroom.

But human nature is habitual. 
I keep forgetting to flip the switch on.