Sawyer has croup/RSV

Tru has RSV

Hud has an ear infecton & RSV

I have pneumonia or RSV pending results.

Scott- wades around in other people’s poo all day so he has an immunity system of steel. Bastard.

Which is why this mama is up at 12 even though I am so beyond exhausted from today. And the Prednisone. It makes me really hyper.

Me @ the hospital waiting for our prescriptions last night. The mask was more for me not to get MORE sick since I don’t really know how contagious I could be after being sick for a month. Seriously- I went to the doctor 1/4 but was told it was just a bug. If this a bug- it’s def a cockroach. (bah-dum-chhhhhhh)

& I guess I’m gonna go get Sawyer out of bed to sleep with me ’cause these seal barks are so freaking sad. My poor sick girl.

TODAY. WAS. AN. EPIC. FAILLLLLLLL.

So last week I may have briefly mentioned that Scott’s van was in the shop for well over a week? And how my car broke down on the way to pick his car up from the shop only for his car to STILL be broken and require 3 more days at SERRAMONTE FORD, which in our opinion are notorious for putting under warranty issues on the far far far back burner and keeping our van for an average of 10 days for problems that take 1 day to fix.

We made it through that alive. Sure, Scott couldn’t work as much because most of his tools were 15 miles away at the shop. Sure, it was also the month we had to pay two registrations for cars that suck a big fat dee-ick. And our cat (who can’t have more than 3 lives left) who had to have 3/4 of a digit amputated & has since had 3 infections and bills totaling a house payment. So, going into November we were already in a small hole. Things in October weren’t going our way. We were keeping our chins up, though & keeping on & all that positiveness that I usually try to exude.

Then there was yesterday.

When Scott’s van broke down AGAIN, less than a week after it’s return.

And today?

My car that inexplicably took yet ANOTHER giant shit on my life & broke down as well.

We have no cars. Scott cannot work. We are already in a hole from last month & cannot go out to make the money to get out of the hole as that hole JUST. GETS. DEEPER.

Normally, as you know, I wouldn’t say this is a huge deal. I don’t want to dramatize things, but it really was the worst day I can remember. Around 3 PM, if you visited my house you’d have seen my husband in the front of the house swearing at the top of his lungs and slamming car doors while I sobbed to my mom asking “Whyyyyyy!???? WHY USSSS!?!?!WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS BULLSHITTERY!?!?!” (yes, now it does sound over dramatized. Noted.)

But seriously.

Scott is such a hard working man. He gets up everyday & works his ass off for our family. He is a the sole income for exactly 4 humans & 3 pets. 7 mammals are dependent on his income for basically everything. He’s a 30 year old man with so much on his plate. A home. A business. A (large-ish) family. Lots of financial demands. And I think he’s cracking under the weight of that. And I can’t fix it. I don’t have the ability to go get a job that pays enough to match his income & take some burden off of him. I don’t possess the ability to leave my children in someone else’s care, even if I wanted to. I appreciate Scott SO MUCH & just wish there was a way to actually EASE his burden. I mean, I am there & supportive- but that doesn’t make this kind of stuff any easier. And, I’ll be first to admit, Scott is less than mature about how he handles stressful situations- which obviously helps NONE.

And this van, my car, the added bills & under work this last month are leaving us worn out & tired & feeling beaten down as a family. It has left us shaking our heads asking “Why us? When do WE get a break?” Yes, we are happy & healthy. We have SO. MUCH. to be grateful for, but sometimes it is so hard to not stomp your feet & throw a toddler sized tantrum over the fact that being an adult is SO. DAMN. HARD. SOMETIMES.

I was dead tired at 9 when Scott woke me up to tell me he was leaving for work. The kids were still sleeping & right before he left he said “Wait till you see the bathroom. It’s THE WORST it’s EVER BEEN.” (Stop here if you cannot handle graphic dog poop stories) This means one thing. Dog pee. Or poop. See, we have two minpins. One of which is like 6 pounds. She cannot hold it overnight so we put out a weewee pad in our guest bathroom in case she has to go. Our older, larger minpin (He’s about 15 pounds and shits like a human) has taken to going on the pad when we aren’t looking or sleeping even though he goes on 50 walks a day & can hold it. It started when we had Hudson. Basically? He’s sticking it to us. He’s giving us the dog equivalent of the the finger. But last night??

Well, I went in to check it out & that’s when it hit me. Literally-the smell. And figuratively- Blue DEFINITELY ate something not meant for doggies. And how do I know this?? Yeah, there was dog (liquid) poop EV. RE. WHERE. This is possibly too graphic- but it apparently hit the pad- and linoleum floor with such force that it sprayed UP. Onto the walls. The sink. The toilet. EVERYWHERE. It was a scene from hell. I closed the door & went to take care of the kids before I could tackle this mess.

After the kids were fed & changed and Hudson was happily playing with toys & watching Wow! Wow!- I went in to take care of biz. Except as I was spraying the entire room down with bleach- Hudson somehow snuck in & around me. Slipped in the poo and went face first into more poo. I screamed so loud (I think it was “Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!”) I scared him and he started to cry. And rub his face. I kid you not- I have never gotten into the shower so quickly. I ran to the other bathroom stripped us down and literally scrubbed my poor baby because I felt SO HORRIBLE.

I wish I had a picture. Seriously. You’d have to see it to believe it.

Remember how I got hit by firework schrapnel? Yeah- this was like the icing on the shit covered cake. Happy Monday all!

I mean, that part is OK. I got the little guy down at about 8:30 after an extra warm baba and some baby tylenol because as I discovered this morning- he has TWO top teeth making their way into his mouth.

Bliss! I was on the couch with my husband watching South Park & having a generally awesome time.

930? THE PHONE RINGS! Cannot find it. and luckily ringer is on low. I checked on Hudson & he was still asleep. Stoked.

Then Scott says: Check the front window- maybe it’s the rentacop.

(there is a back story- don’t worry I’ll get to it.)

I look outside and she is indeed parked. I told Scott to go deal with it & he went to put his shoes on. Not 5 seconds later the bitch is ON MY DOORSTEP BANGING ON THE DOOR!

Cue totally insane minpins barking, 29 week pregnant chick swearing, husband clammoring to get out of his pjs and BABY WAKING THE FUCK UP!

I opened the door in a pretty full on rage. And I don’t usually unload on people. But, this woman is standing on my doorstep in her rentacop uniform at 930 and says “ARE YOU OK!?” I said “Ummm no! Because you just woke up my fucking baby!! What is WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!?!”

to which is replied “your husband needs to put the magnets back on his van or I will have to right a ticket” (Not a real one, mind you- one that means absolutely NOTHING and is just an obnoxious reminder from my HOA that they are stupid and I pay way too much every month to deal with their shit.)

to which I replied “do whatever the fuck you have to do lady!” and slammed the door in her stupid face.

As I went to console my kid- Scott went outside to deal with the situation. rentacop sat there and babysat Scott whilst he put magnets on his van to cover our company logo. She then was worried about OUR REGISTRATION TAGS (See previous post) and ‘needed to ticket us’.

She then muttered something along the line of “tell your wife I am sorry” and handed him a BLANK ticket from my HOA. Scott said that she was “clearly shook up” because apparently I still bring the fear. I like that part at least. I know it’s there when I need it.

So, now the back story. I’m not even sure how comfortable I feel sharing this with the nets- but I need to include the dollar amount so you see how epicly stupid this is.

We own our “house” it is a condo in a very beautiful complex that we love. We put offers on MULTIPLE homes in this complex because we wanted to live here. We also live in a retardedly expensive area and paid retardedly to own this place. That being said- our effing HOA dues are $500 A MONTH. A MONTH. On top of alllll the other fun stuff like the mortgage and insurance and all the regular bills that people have. FIVE. HUNNNDREDDDDD.

When we moved in here, we read the CC&R rules and it stated no commercial vehicles can be parked within the complex. Luckily for us our company van is not registered commercially- but to US. So, by law it is not a commercial vehicle.

The HOA disagrees and for the last THREE YEARS it has been an epic battle of wills regarding the fact that my husband & I would like to park our personally owned van with a logo in front of our house. We settled on a compromise last year, in which we had to PURCHASE plain white magnets to cover our logos at night. We do this. No problem. EXCEPT WHEN IT RAINS. You know, because a magnet sitting on wet steel for 12 hours RUSTS STEEL. And we are not about to ruin the value of something we paid for with our own money.

In the past we have received these little tickets on the window of the van during the rain (which is SUCH COMPLETE SHIT, BTW) and they are really, nothing more than an annoyance. It makes us mad, but there is no consequence behind it.

Enter this new rent-a-cop we got as “security patrol” probably 6 months ago. HOMEGIRL IS INSANE.

If Scott’s van is not covered she calls our HOUSE. (our office number is on the side of the van) And not at 6, when she starts working- after it is polite to call even your friends! And tonight- she took that a step further and KNOCKED ON THE FREAKING DOOR.

I am just stewing right now, so I apologize for the straight up rant- but I cannot call the HOA till the morning to tell them that they need to explain this lady’s job description to her. If her job is to write a fucking “ticket” THEN JUST WRITE IT! It doesn’t MEAN ANYTHING. She has NO BUSINESS knocking on people’s doors at 930 PM! She needs to just sit back like a good rent-a-cop and wait for something to happen. I’m pretty sure we are paying her salary and her attitude is not appreciated. I think her main purpose would be to deflect crime by her presence. Not to harass the people that live here and pay way to fucking much to be dealing with such crap.

THE END.

(and I swear this is NOT pregnancy hormones- although- I did have TWO caffeinated sodas in the last hour. That may be part of it.)

From what I gather, my sis-in-law changed her address with the USPS at some point and the postal service took it upon themselves to change MY ADDRESS and MY HUSBAND’s ADDRESS as well. I can only imagine that she did not mean to change our addresses.

So, the mail that has come to both my PO Box for well over 5 years and my house for about 3 suddenly took a different route and was ending up at her house. Like my bank statements. Or my DMV renewals. And we don’t see each other on the daily so I’d receive mail from her and the due date on stuff would be like THE NEXT DAY. Anyways, I went to the Bank and got the information switched back and I thought everything was cool because I seem to be receiving all the important stuff I need at this point.

Except when I renewed our company van’s registration back in October we never received tags. I finally called DMV today after my husband has received three tickets for the van being registered (because the police can see that & our insurance on their computer) but for not having the correct date sticker on the license plate. THREE.

DMV tells me that our address could not have been changed in their records without someone inputting both my driver’s license and my husband’s and that they cannot tell me what my current address on file is because I should know.

So, apparently our remedy is this, according to Roy at the DMV: Since I am not the registered owner of the vehicle, Scott must take time out of work and go stand in line at the DMV to have his address changed back to the correct address. To remedy the tickets, he has to take time off work to appear and court with proof that he never lived at the address the DMV has on file (the one they won’t tell us) to get out of paying said tickets.

I then called the USPS and spoke with someone who said I can easily remedy the problem by changing our address again, but I need to know our previous address on file, which after exhausting the options of the places it could possibly be- still won’t work.

Then the lady tells me that had Sarah changed her address as a “family” we could be included because we have the same last name. Now, while this makes some sense- A LOT of people have our last name. My father-in-law’s mail goes the correct place. My other sister-in-law gets her mail. I mean she is a single 25 year old woman. At that point “family” means just her. Regardless if she had marked family or individual.

When we bought our house I marked “family” on our address change and I have never once received mail for anyone else outside our FAMILY. Like, my husband, me, our kid and our business.

How does this happen?

I opened an investigation with the postal service. I am totally annoyed and want to kill someone.

Oh, and in a bit I plan to finish my Christmas shopping. At Target & the mall. I shouldn’t be in public today- I may lose it.

Happy freaking Tuesday.

I will start with ” I hate my dogs.” I mean. I love them clearly, but ever since I had a baby all the things they do that never bothered me totally bother me because they bother Hudson.

Remember my post ten minutes ago? The one that says Hudson hadn’t napped yet?

Well, shortly there after he fell asleep on the couch with a baba. I waited till I knew he was asleep- which is usually when his thumb falls out of this mouth. Just as I was getting up to go make myself breakfast (at 1PM- I’m really helping these twins out clearly.) the dogs start barking. I got up to go kill them- and stop them from barking at nothing. Of course JUST as I turn the corner Hudson wakes up on the couch- sits up and literally starts to teeter (since he’s half asleep) on the edge of the couch. So, I run over- heart pounding and catch him. And then proceed to freak out that I walked away from him sleeping on the couch.

Anyways, now he’s wide awake. His nap was maybe 10 minutes and now he’s PISSED. In his playpen crying away. Yes, that may sound mean but I was so hungry I thought I might pass out. So I made a sandwich and I am eating it.

The dogs do this like literally everyday and I think I may loose it.

I made it through Hudson’s pregnancy without crying except for times when it was necessary- like getting my first IV or losing 30 pounds and being so dehydrated I was pretty sure I’d die. I made it through his birth without a tear shed. Maybe I’m even a bit UNfeeling. Anyhow.

Get ready for complaining.

I am tired. My back hurts. BAD. I have like constant cramps in my legs. I think I’m getting sick and when I sit straight up my ribs ache because they are clearly rubbing on poor Sawyer’s domepiece. I am UNCOMFORTABLE. It doesn’t help that Hudson is totally mobile and won’t ever just sit and cuddle unless he is sleeping- or trying to sleep. If it is not sleepytime? He wants to stand and to move. Usually using my huge balloon tummy as a place to dig a tiny foot or elbow into.

Anyways, I’ve been keeping it together pretty damn well, I think. But, tonight I just kinda freaked. After the whole flea incident- everything in the house got washed. And it was sitting in a legitimate MOUNTAIN covering our entire king-sized bed. I walked into the room several times while cleaning up the living room, since the entire contents of our bedroom were in the living room all day. I dry and wet swiffed the hardwood floors. My feet were hurting, but I seriously couldn’t relax. (Scott was playing COD MW2 and ignoring my attempts for his sympathy when I said things like “OMG! MY BACK!! OWWWW!” while sweeping in front of him) Anyways, then Hudson started crying from his playpen. (Yes, his father was in charge while I cleaned and somehow, he was able to get him into the playpen while he played fucking video games!!) This in turn made me cry. A LOT. Mini- breakdown status. Causing Scott to “give me permission” to wait to fold laundry till tomorrow. Gee. Thanks.

So, I got to take a shower for the first time today at 7:30 and climb ONTO my bed. Only onto, because my comforter is still drying so I have no covers. I am watching SYTYCD and trying not to loose my shit.

I better sleep this off. I hate dealing with people who act this way- and here I am- doing the same.
TOTAL piece of work.

Let’s be clear. B of A runs every aspect of my financial life. All banking, trading, credit, mortgage… They own it all. And now: They are trying to make me die a slow financial death, I am sure.

First: They make it impossible to NOT bank with them. Free online banking, free bill pay, free accounts, unlimited transactions, a ton of ATMs and branches- they even do free payroll! I mean- seriously. They make you want them.

BUT! What they don’t tell you is that They want to make you miserable.
A. Deposits: Since this crisis with the economy, my lowly little company gets treated like shit. I have been business banking with the for 5+ years and in the last 3 months…. holy moly. They hod $300.00 deposits for 7 DAYS!?! I cannot operate a business when they hold my money until they FEEL like letting me have it. Then, in the mean time, while I SPEND my money, they go ahead and charge me overdraft fees for money that is IN THE FUCKING BANK…. as in been there for dayssss.
B. And how much do these fees COST? $35.00 each. They charge me money to spend my money that they have decided to hod without my knowledge. and on Friday? NINE FUCKING times. As in $315.00 in FEES for use of my own money that they possess. This is fucked and I demand to know why. My bank statement shows me at xxxx.xx then they subtract $315.00 (nine line items) and then I still have PLENTY left. I am never overdraft.

I kid you not these are the CURRENT issues, not the only issues. They have fucked me continuously by giving me free checks but then charging me for them sending my balance in the negatives to incur more million dollar fees. (when the account was new and it had a very small balance until I could switch accounts over.) THEN said free checks were issued for the WRONG account so when I used those checks…they all bounced when I had the money IN THE CORRECT ACCOUNT. This is UNREAL people. I wanna call channel 7 on your side or whatever, but BofA is a big fish and clearly they don’t take on giant corporations. They did fix the bounced check/wrong checks issue. I’ll give them that. But I was definitely embarassed and now I’m sure more than a few of my suppliers think I’m a dead beat. That’s in addition to the fact that I’m pretty sure I’m being mortgage gouged and my credit card rate was shifted for no reason.

So, anyways, this morning, when my account balance was a lot but the available amount was zero (and the “hold” they placed said funds available 6/23), I dialed up BofA. The recording said the wait time could be up to 12 minutes. It was 1 hour and 24 minutes and some-odd seconds. I got some bitch who told me to eff off and wouldn’t return the $315.00 of charges that were basically a load of shit. I demanded a manger. I got a voicemail. The manager called me back and also refused to help me. I said: “well, who is HIGHER than you. I want THAT person.” Apparently, in her tiny mind- no one was in a higher power job then her and she was the final. So I said: “Give me the complaint department” She told me that usually you have to write a letter before they will talk to you- which is BS BTW- and she gave me a number.
That number was promptly answered by a very nice woman who I could understand and who could understand me and immediately returned my $315.00 and made my money available to me.

So, the moral of this story is that big banking is bullshit, but I can’t leave. They have me right where they want me. A powerless small business who operates lean because people don’t pay on time and shit costs more money. I also have a new baby- which doesn’t help my budget.

Let’s just say, I have done my part to be more financially prudent. I sold my gas guzzling hot sports car with a giant payment and took a hand-me-down ghettotastic ride. I actually look at the prices of stuff at the store. I don’t buy purses that are more than a month’s mortgage. I’m making sacrifices!

So, the real question is: with all these bail-outs and government apparently trying to revive America… why is the little guy STILL getting screwed? I mean seriously. Taxes out the ass. Banks that want to drain you with endless (possibly fraudulent) fees. Property taxes that keep going up while property values go down…But…you’re an hour late to pay a bill and what do they do? They hunt you down. A few years ago my credit score was like 750. Pretty descent. I’m not so sure now.

So to sum up: A pox upon BofA.

I need some fucking back up here or I may lose my shit.