Seriously, Week? That’s What You Come Up With?

Let’s dive right in, shall we?

The night of my last post, we headed to bed exhausted. After all, since Reid’s ear infection debacle began, he’s been getting up quite a bit in the night.

At 12:30 a.m., it was a different child’s cries coming over the monitor. “Daddy!!” Long story very short:

Tummy bug. Andy and I took turns getting up with Graham every 45 minutes or so until morning. And, of course, when we were actually lying in bed, neither of us were sleeping, because we were both waiting for the next call.


I *think* I might’ve dozed for 20 minutes or so around 4:00 a.m.

Actually, at one point, Graham was calling for us at the same time that Reid was crying. Life with two kids, man. It’s a different ballgame!

Graham recovered yesterday and went back to school this morning. Now Andy and I are waiting to see if we catch the virus. Yippee!

Meanwhile, Reid is perking right along. I took him in on Wednesday for his third round of shots. Dr. G said his ears looked less red but were also still very filled with fluid. We got the shots and are now due back in the office for a recheck in 2-3 weeks (or sooner, should we suspect that he’s infected again.)

In the midst of all this, Reid hit another milestone:

Baby’s rolling over!

From back to front, that is. (He’s been rolling over from front to back for quite some time.) Very exciting! Even more exciting? I was home to see it! It was Tuesday morning. I was home, waiting to take Reid for his shots. I put Reid on his back to play while I tidied the kitchen, and I looked over and he was on his belly – fully propped up on his elbows!

I was so shocked I yelled out, “Oh my God, Reid!!!” I freaked out our sweet cleaning lady, who was there that morning too. We both celebrated with the baby, who looked so proud of himself! :)

Here’s a video that I took later that day. :)

With this new accomplishment, Reid has become SUPER into toys. He can grab and pull and get things into his mouth. He LOVES them. What a fun stage we’re starting!


Oh and also? Now that he’s able to get onto his belly and has an interest in toys, he’s trying to get toys out of his reach when he’s playing on his tummy. He reaches and pumps his legs and tries to wiggle forward to them. Mostly he just wiggles backward.

See where I’m going with this?! Reid wants to crawl! Uh, what? Stay put, Dude. You are four months old. I need a ton more time before you’re mobile.

But I’m loving that I get to see you unswaddled now. :)


Customer Service

Christmas shopping is done, but not all packages have been received. One in particular – I realized on Monday – I had received shipment notification on two weeks ago and hadn’t seen yet. I dug through my email, found the tracking number, tracked the package and saw…

… it had been delivered.

Friday before last.

To a house in Peculiar, MO. (Apropos location for this specific situation though, non?)

I contacted the company. Someone Amazon does business with, but who takes care of their own customer service after the initial point of purchase is complete.

The email back-and-forth went something like this:

Me: Hi. This is my order number. There was apparently a mix-up and my order was delivered to an undisclosed address in Peculiar, MO.

Customer Service: I’m sorry for the confusion. What’s the correct address?

Me: :::biting my tongue to not tell them to look on the order form::: It’s <insert my home address here>.

Customer Service (24 hours later): I’ve contacted FedEx. It appears that your package was delivered. The notes from delivery indicate that it was left on your doorstep, have you looked around for it?

Me: …  Yes. It was delivered. To Peculiar, MO. I live in Texas.

Customer Service: Would you like me to ship you another one?

Me: … Yes.

Customer Service: I’ll have a tracking number for you tomorrow.

All snarky reflections on this exchange aside, I’m mighty glad I got my Christmas shopping started early!

Because You Don’t Just Open the Door for a Thief

I don’t normally do this in this forum, but cancer is a thief. And lately I’ve heard over several news formats that a common, inexpensive and effective cancer drug is in short supply. “Short” as in “two weeks” and “supply” as in “it will be gone.”

I don’t know the ins and outs of the issue. I don’t really care to hear about the circumstances that have led to the present state.  What I do care about is this: by God’s grace, Andy and I don’t have to personally understand the horror of this situation – but some parents do.

We follow two families’ stories – here is their reaction to the cancer drug shortage. Neither of them are long reads,  but both will leave you thinking long after.

Totally Redeemed

For the past few hours, Andy and I have both had the following line in our heads: Watch here because YouTube is annoying and disabled embedding of this particular clip!

I’ve been without my mommy-mobile for over a week now. As I mentioned in my last post, I took it in last week for an appointment on Friday afternoon, after the “service air bag” warning had been illuminated for a good two weeks or so. (It’s really something else to drive around in your car imagining that the air bag is going to spontaneously explode in your face at any moment.)

In contrast to everything I’ve been taught by my father and husband, I took the car to the dealer to get fixed. YES, they’re annoying. YES, they’re more expensive, but YES they have courtesy loaners to make my life a little bit easier in the interim.

So, as I’ve mentioned, I got this beaut:

A white barebones Pontiac G6. Not a bad car at all, just not my car. And a little annoying that I had to manually unlock the car and remember to hit the lock button as I left, but I dealt, because it was a free car, right?

What I didn’t appreciate was the double-edged-swordness of this ‘courtesy car’ deal. Since I had a car and was minimally inconvenienced, the dealer immediately informed me they might not get to see my car on the afternoon of my appointment. And the week went on like this…

Friday afternoon call from the Dealer: “Yes ma’am, we didn’t get to your car as expected, and Saturdays are kind of crazy around here… how bad would it be if we didn’t get to it until Monday?” [My response: Ooookay, but I at least want a diagnosis Saturday, so you can order parts if need be.]

Saturday afternoon call from the Dealer: “Yes ma’am, you have a bad seat belt buckle… [insert thorough description of why this is a serious safety hazard]… we’ve ordered the part, since it’s Saturday, it likely won’t be here until Tuesday.

Tuesday call from Dealer: “Yes ma’am, the part didn’t arrive on the truck as expected. All we can do is wait until tomorrow and hope it gets here.”

Wednesday… Dealer’s response after I called them: “I’m so sorry ma’am, but we’ve ordered the part. It comes from GM in Michigan. It hasn’t come in. All we can do is wait.”

Thursday… Dealer’s response after I called them: “I am so, so, so sorry for all of this. I know it’s been a long time. I don’t know why they sent an entire seat belt yesterday… [“They sent a seatbelt yesterday?!”] Yes ma’am, but that’s not what we need, we need a buckle. They’ve assured me it’s on its way, but they’ve said that before…”

Here’s where I told them that I want to get a call from them every day until the issue gets resolved, even if they have nothing to tell me. That after my car having been tied up for a week, I shouldn’t be the one chasing them down for answers, that they should be calling me and reassuring me that they have their eye on this issue and are doing everything they can to resolve it.

Call from Dealer at 11:30 am this morning, voicemail: [chipper voice] “Yes, Mrs. F, we are excited to tell you that we’ve confirmed that the part is coming in today, and we will have your car ready for pickup today no later than 4:00!”

Call from Dealer at 2:30 pm, voicemail: [not-so-chipper voice] “Mrs. F, please give us a call. We have more information about your car.”

Here’s where it gets really good. No seriously, this is the awesome part we’ve all been waiting for.

Josh (the service guy, we’re on a first name basis now) profusely apologized (again), but this time he said he wanted to make things right, and please tell him what he could do. “Get me a different car.” No problem, he said. He described what was on the lot. I chose my car. He then said that he would have someone drive up to my home – if that was indeed the most convenient place to do the exchange, and it was – to deliver it and swap out my G6.

Furthermore, he’d checked my service history and noted that this was my first time with them. He said, “I don’t have a second chance to make a first impression, and this isn’t [us]. So, your service will cost no more than $100.”

Aaaand awesome. That’s a $350 discount folks. And I get to drive this baby all weekend.

It’s a 2011 Mini Cooper Countryman S. Their newest wagon. Very fun. Probably something I’d never own in my lifetime, but I’m enjoying driving it for now. :)

I’ve had customer service comebacks before, but never ever like this. They essentially pulled off the impossible, and now I kinda want the fix to take a little longer.


Have You Met My Husband, Cindy?

I’m used to name misspellings. It’s innocent enough. Heck, I used to work in phone sales – I know how it happens, and I am certain I have been responsible for my fair share. I have also been victim plenty myself as I have now been identified by two last names, maiden and married, that are both common and commonly misspelled.

**related sidebar** Why are people even tempted to spell Debbie with a “y”? Have you ever known any Debbies that have spelled their names that way? Ever?
\related sidebar

Aaanyway, this last week, a package arrived that set Andy and I into a fit of giggles, once we looked at the package label, that is:

Oh Von Maur. I love you. I love your selection of high-end-to-reasonably-priced fashion. Your sale shoe room is to die for and your ‘free shipping anywhere’ deal is sweeter than sweet. I’m oh, so willing to put up with a very clear clerical error.

So, I snapped a picture, texted my mom – the originator of the package – with the text, “Who’s Cindy?!?” and put the box in the recycle.

Then, another package arrived today.

Von Maur, I still love you. But I’m starting to take this personally.