A rant

Forgive me, dear readers, while I rant for a bit.

When we moved to our new house, we realized we would have to get window blinds. And knowing that we had several rather large windows (and that neither of us are particularly skilled when it comes to tasks that involve screwdrivers) we decided to suck it up and order custom ones and have them professionally installed. I looked around a bit and settled on The Blindman. They were cheaper than other companies and I liked their products.

A rep came out to the house before we moved in (so, 25th of August) and did his bid. It was much less than I thought it would be, so I was thrilled. And he said they would do the install in 10 to 12 business days. At the time I thought, "Crap, two weeks is a long time to be here without blinds, but hey, it's a big order."

Around 8 business days later, I called the company to check on our order. I was told we were scheduled for installation the following Thursday, which would be exactly 12 business days. Ok, fine. Didn't hear anything from the company as to when they were coming, so I called again the next Wednesday. I was informed that they were waiting on materials, so it would actually be a bit longer. I called again a few days later and was told the same thing. This scenario happened every few days for the next few weeks. The company never called me to let me know what was happening with my order. No progress reports. No, "we're so sorry this is taking so long." At one point, someone told me that blind orders actually take four to six weeks. Then why did their rep say 10 to 12 business days?!

One day last week, after being told the blinds wouldn't be installed until sometime this week, I finally asked to speak to a manager about getting a discount. That started another run-around. Tuesday, a mere two hours before the install (and when I was supposed to pay the balance on the bill), I got through to a manager—or actually the receptionist did and called me back with the manager's answer. I was informed they would give me $100 off. One hundred freakin' dollars off a $4,000 order. That's right.

I was actually quite proud of myself as I went off on the receptionist (and yes, I know it's not her fault, but I wasn't able to speak with anyone else!). I experienced such a lack of customer service throughout this entire process. I recognize that mistakes happen and sometimes delays are out of the company's control, but at some point, I think you need to fork out a discount in the name of good customer service. I even told the receptionist that I would never, ever recommend their company to anyone else, and that several of my friends had told me they had bad experiences (after I started the process, of course). She felt bad, but $100 off was all she could do.

The blinds are in and they look fine. But I'm planning to write a nasty letter to their corporate offices. Such a horrible way to do business! It doesn't matter if you have nice products if your customer service is crap.

Forgotten lunch

H is a sensitive kid. Sometimes I think of it as just being tenderhearted, but every now and then he goes in waves where he seems overly so—crying about not being able to play with toys because it's bedtime, sobbing if a small toy dog comes near him, and crying if we suggest the kids race to see who gets their pjs on first. It appears we're in the midst of a wave.

Last Friday, about two minutes after H and S took off for school on their bikes, I happened to look on the kitchen counter and realized that H had forgotten his lunch. I ran to see if I could catch them, but they were already past the playground. "Well, he can get school lunch today. No biggie." The kids have money in an account at school so they can get school lunch twice a week, so I figured H would just do that. Then I remembered which kid I was dealing with. I knew he would not realize that he could just do school lunch, and most likely would get very upset. So, I planned to take his lunch to school right after I dropped T off at preschool in 30 minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, I got a call on my cell phone. Whoever it was didn't say anything, but I could tell they were trying to. I was about to hang up when I realized it was my son, probably crying so much that he couldn't speak. I said his name over and over but he still wouldn't/couldn't talk. His teacher came on the phone and said he was very concerned about not having a lunch and I assured her I was bringing it over soon.

When H got home from school, we talked it over and I told him if that were to ever happen again, he should just get school lunch. My mom suggested we talk as a family about different potentially troubling situations that could come up to try and head off H's emotional meltdowns. I think it's a good idea, but honestly, so many different things seem to be setting him off these days, that I'm not sure my husband and I can think of all the potential scenarios. I'd also like to help him "toughen up" for all the years of sports, possible bullies, and just life stuff that is sure to come his way.

*Sigh.*

Anyone have any advice?

Are we there yet?

I would like to announce (tentatively, and I'm hoping that by announcing this, it doesn't somehow mess with the order of the universe and bring us more woes) that the basement is back to its original state. Well, with the entire system of pipes moved up four inches and new concrete poured over the pipes. And new carpet in the theater room, because the carpet in there was used to replace carpet in the halls and bedrooms that got affected.

So... it looks the same as before, but let's hope the changes that were made mean that this never, ever happens again. Now comes the fun(?) part of putting everything back in the right place, wiping off things that got dusty (although everything was covered in plastic) and organizing our lives again. I can't believe it's been less than three weeks since the incident. It feels like we've been dealing with this for months. I'm excited to really relax in our house, and hopefully not have to worry every time we flush the toilet, do a load of wash, or take a shower.

And we've run into a dead end on the "get someone else to pay for this" project. After talking with a few trusted people, we decided that the best person to pursue would probably be the builder himself, or at least his liability insurance. Unfortunately, because the house was empty for three years, it's very unlikely that insurance would pay on the claim. We'll keep looking into it, but we're not betting on anything.

Melinda,

When I think of my childhood, high school, college, and even beyond, so many memories are made better because you were there. I remember years of Primary classes together. I remember making a pact in high school that we wouldn't go to drinking parties. I remember when you would shove Frisky in my face and tell me to "just love her!" And too many memories from college to count.

Even though you've forgotten a lot of this, don't worry. I'll always be here to remember for you. And if you call one day and ask me the name of "that girl with blond hair who we didn't like but who knows why we didn't like her" and I can't remember, I'll just call Brooke. She'll remember.

Happy birthday, friend. I love you.

Tennille

P.S. Sorry for the plethora of pictures. Just be glad I didn't pick any from high school.

At Bead's parents' house for Easter, after the Dark Crystal incident. Apparently, you really liked your juice.

Beauty pageant-ready. Except for Beda, that is.

I have no idea what's going on in this picture.

A touch of OCD

Recently, I read a book for book club: Kissing Doorknobs by Terry Spencer Hesser. It's about a young girl who suffers with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It's a really touching story that makes you realize how very hard it would be to deal with something like that and overcome it.

While I definitely do not have OCD, reading this book reminded me of the slightly obsessive tendencies that I do have... Checking to make sure doors are locked every night, to the point that I have to look at the door lock straight on and "visualize" the door locked. Checking several times to make sure the garage door is down when I leave. Going back to make sure I've locked the front doors. Making sure my children are breathing every night, to the point that I have to stand there, with my hand on their chests and feel the rise and fall of their breathing. Perhaps I'm guilty of nudging them to make them move so I don't have to wonder. Perhaps.

Some of this is probably typical Mom stuff, but I also remember checking doors and things when I was a kid (especially if my mom was gone for the night cause I worried my dad wouldn't do it). I also remember that when I said my nightly prayers, if one of my family members was still not home, I had to pray that they would get home safely. If I forgot, I'd get out of bed and say another prayer. I was convinced that if I didn't pray, they wouldn't get home ok. Nice burden for a kid, don't you think?

These tendencies haven't been helped by the trenches in my basement (and no, I'm not posting another picture. It's just too depressing.) Every few hours, I have to go down and check the basement bathroom and the furnace room to make sure we haven't had another back-up. The vision of what I found in there last Saturday is still too present in my mind. This isn't made easier by plumbers telling us we can use our system until everything's fixed, but "take short showers. Don't flush unless you go #2, and don't use your disposal." I'm constantly worried that one of the kids will flush too much toilet paper down. Or, flush in the middle of the night and we won't know there's a problem until we wake up in the morning. And I wonder why I don't sleep well these days.

In good news (comparatively speaking), they've almost uncovered the whole pipe system in the basement and hope to have everything fixed and back to normal in the next week. We'll see. :)

Sanctuary

Your home should be a sanctuary, somewhere where you feel safe, comfortable.

Sanctuary is not the way I would describe our house right now. I told my husband that I feel like our house is working against us, which has made both of us feel stressed, sad, and angry. Adding to that was the news yesterday that we'll have to rip up every spot in the basement floor that's above pipes so that we can raise the whole system up a few inches, to give it a better angle when it connects with the pipes outside of the house. Adding to that was the bill I got yesterday for the disaster clean-up crew that was double what they quoted on Sunday. I guess that's why they call it a quote, eh?

I'm not feeling a lot of love toward my house right now. Which is unfortunate, because it really is a beautiful home. So, I took a few photos to remind me of the things I do love about it.

I love my front porch.

I love our new couches.

I love my bathroom.

I love our winding staircase.

I love my kitchen.


I look forward to the time when this home will really be our sanctuary.