Pink Polka Dot Thoughts

Cooper and the Soccer Ball

Cooper found this soccer ball today. He has driven me insane ALL day because he gets frustrated that he can't grab it with his mouth and carry it around.

Whoops...Mr. Polka Dot needs to get out the lawn mower!

Crank Calling

When we moved, we all got new cell phones because our carrier wasn't in this area. Shortly after, The Boy started getting calls from what we first thought were telemarketers, but then it became obvious they were bill collectors.

At that point, I told him to bring me the phone when these numbers came up, but most of the time, the calls would disconnect as soon as I said hello. Finally, I spoke to a human and explained this was my thirteen year old son's cell phone and that we didn't know a Tanisha nor did my son have any outstanding bills. He promised he'd take us off the list and no one would call back. A few days later, I repeated the same thing.

A month later, I reiterated the same thing to yet another caller and was assured again that no more calls would be made to my son's number.

They did stop--for several months--but recently, they've started up again with a vengeance. I've tried to catch the calls because many of them come up as "unknown" or with a number that you can't actually call back. I've had no luck this time.

Apparently, however, they've left some voice mails. I didn't know that because I don't have his voice mail code. Not that he wouldn't give it to me--I've just never asked.

Today, after I got out of the shower, I heard him in the other room. His cell phone was on speaker and he was returning one of the calls. This was the conversation. I debated whether or not to put my clothes on quickly and race out there, but then I thought, if they're going to continuously call a 13 yr old's phone and harass him, maybe they should get some juvenile treatment. Yes, I know--childish and petty of me!

Bill collector: How may I help you?

The Boy: This is the doctor! (said with a very strange accent, I can't describe.)

 ...long pause...

Bill collector: Ummm...ok. How may I help you?

 The Boy: This is the doctor and someone called my number and said it was urgent that I return this call. Is someone there dying and in need of medical attention?

 Bill collector: Someone called your number from here?

The Boy: Yes and I need to know if you need my help.

 ...another long pause...

The Boy: Well? Does someone there need a doctor?

 Bill Collector: We called there for Tanisha(something or other...I can never understand the last name.) Is she there?

The Boy: No. She's not here, but she's a patient of mine. What is this regarding?

Bill Collector: We REALLY need to talk to her. Can you give her a message?

The Boy: What is this regarding?

Bill Collector: We can give you her file number, so she can call back.

 The Boy: Are you crazy?

 CLICK

At this point, I was standing beside him because it had gone on too long. I had to explain to him that NOW he'd said he knows this chick and they'll just keep on calling. Ahhhhhh!!!! I'm also assuming they had caller ID to see the number he was calling from because he never gave his number, but they knew Tanisha's name.

 I'm off to figure out if there's a way to just block a phone number from calling. Either that or I might have to swap phones with him.

Let's Go Krogering

I've been on a quest to save money lately and one of the ways I've done that is by boycotting the grocery store. No, that doesn't mean we don't eat. It means that I try to go once a week to pick up things I think we really need. I use my coupons and try to save. Then, throughout the week, if I see we need something or we run out of something, I send Mr. Polka Dot.

I know some of you don't believe that this can save me money, but it's absolutely true. See, Mr. Polka Dot never varies from my list. He never throws in a little something extra "just because." He buys only from the list, the whole list and nothing but the list. So, if I send him after 3 things, he only buys 3 things, not the other 12 I would buy if I wound up at the store. He also doesn't buy cookies, chips or assorted snack foods because they "look yummy."  If it's not on the list, forget it!

The only problem with this arrangement is that he isn't very good at shopping. That means unless I write a full description--including brand name and store aisle--he'll call me from the store. Usually, I can expect one call per item on the list.

Mr. Polka Dot: "What KIND of spaghetti sauce?"

Me: "Ragu if it's on sale."

Mr. Polka Dot: "How do I know if it's on sale?"

Me: "There's a little tag on the shelf that says sale price."

Mr. Polka Dot: "Oh. Well, there aren't any tags. Do you still want it?"

Me: "Is another brand cheaper?"

L O N G pause and sounds of clanking jars in the background...

Me: "Just bring me a jar of whatever they have."

Mr. Polka Dot: "Well, do you want Traditional, Garlic and Onion..."

Me: "Just bring me whatever!"

Of course, that's just one phone call. Luckily we have unlimited minutes between our cell phones. Otherwise, the savings from Mr. Polka Dot doing the shopping would be negated by phone charges!

He really does try though. However, I've learned to not send him after toilet paper or trash bags because for some reason, he never has a question about brand or size. It's always the biggest package of the most expensive brand! We really don't need a million trash bags and we don't have a place to store 500 rolls of toilet paper!

Grammar Really Isn't THAT Hard to Grasp

I freely admit that I'm a total snob when it comes to grammar and spelling. I mean, how much effort does it take to run a few paragraphs through a spell-checker? It's not that big of a deal to me.

I know that if I was a teacher, I'd be a stickler for that. I'd be absolutely mortified if I sent home a paper to parents with spelling errors. I would proofread over and over. I know this because I do it with everything else I do. Sure, once in a while, I make a typo. I'm not perfect, but you can be sure that my quota of spelling errors would be ZERO for the first day of school.

That's why today, as I was perusing all the paperwork from school the kids brought home, I was disappointed to find a few errors. Maybe it's just me, but I expect the people teaching my children to know how to spell rudimentary words. It's the basic spelling and grammar errors that get me. If something is an obvious typo, that's one thing and I can forgive it, but sometimes, you just wonder if people don't realize spell check exists!

Ok, I started to type them out here and realized that this is a small town and I have no idea who reads this blog. I don't need my kids getting in trouble, but suffice it to say that they were things that should have been caught by simply proofreading. It's not rocket science. It's spelling!

Next week, we'll talk about people who use apostrophes inappropriately! ;)

Too Fast

Tomorrow is the first day of school. I'll have a high school JUNIOR and an 8th grader living in my house. How did that happen? I have been running it over in my head and it just seems impossible. It feels like yesterday they were just babies...

Now, they're teens and in a few years,  they'll be off on their own.

Never have I been sad on the first day of school. Worried. Anxious. Scared for them when they started new schools.

But I've never been sad.

Until now.

And before anyone notices, yes, there's only one picture of THE BOY, but that's because all of his baby pictures are apparently in photo albums and not on this computer! ;)

3AM Fun -- No, Not THAT Kind of Fun

 I've suffered from insomnia all summer. Last night, just as I was finally drifting off at around 3AM, I felt a nudge on my hand. It was a cold, wet nose of a dog who doesn't know when to leave his mother alone. I did what most mothers would do. I ignored it. 

Moments later, I felt something soft in the palm of my hand. It was a slightly damp, drooled up on stuffed monkey.

Did I mention this was at 3am? Dog wants to play at 3am? Is he crazy? Well, we already know that answer.

I continued to ignore him. I ignored the nudges. I ignored all the toys being placed into my hand and onto my body. He wasn't giving up though.

He wandered to the middle of the bed and plopped down.  I felt his eyes on me and then I heard him SIGH. Yes, my dog SIGHS.  I laughed. I just couldn't help it. Imagine a dog sighing because no one will play with him at 3am!

My giggle set him off, of course. He bounced back up with more toys. I was pelted in the head with a squeaky toy. A giant monkey landed on my back. (How's that for a pun?) Still, I wouldn't play.

Poor, frustrated dog eventually gave up sometime around 4am.  Yes, there was more sighing and he probably fell asleep out of boredom.  Let's hope this was a one time thing. I don't think play dates at 3am are much fun!

No, you're not crazy!

Pink Polka Dot Thoughts has a new home. I moved it the other day and I'm working on getting a new design up. It looks like for some reason many of my posts are here twice. I've deleted a ton, but it's a real pain, so the rest of the older ones might just get to say. Hey, it was so good, I had to say it twice, right?

I also just discovered all my categories are gone. :(  I can't fix that. It would take forever.

From here on out, things will be categorized. I promise. :) Have patience here for a bit!

Are YOU Rock Staring?

I hate this commercial with a passion. It bothers me on so many levels, I'm not sure I can communicate them all. First, a teacher brings up a word that basically tells the boys to look at the girls' asses. A teacher is an authority figure and should never be used this way. It's not funny. Not even remotely.

Secondly, notice how the camera zooms in on all the girls' behinds. We don't see any boys' butts. It's just the girls wiggling and posing for us.

These kids are all of twelve. Why are we sexualizing 12 year old girls? Appalling!

We wonder why children are kidnapped, raped and murdered. This commercial is eye candy for any pedophile. I'm willing to bet they have it saved to their DVR and that it's passed around the internet for them. To me, it's just disgusting.

The commercial has the opposite effect on me that KMart wanted. Now I have little desire to go there because the commercial leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Teen pregnancy is a reality and encouraging this kind of sexuality of twelve year olds certainly isn't helping anything. It's irresponsible.

It's not cute.

It's not funny.

It's just tasteless!

Or maybe I take things way too seriously...

Sleepless Night

I can't sleep. Seriously. I can't shake something from my mind and I know the result I would like to see is impossible. Sigh. So I just sit and think about it and can't sleep.

Today someone told me about a baby girl who needs a home. She's a week old. Yes, one WEEK. My heart wants to just go pick her up and bring her home because her mother can't or doesn't want to keep her. My heart always wanted another child and now that it's no longer possible for me, I keep thinking this might be my chance. This might be some sort of sign. Kismet? God? I don't know.

The person who told me about her wouldn't give me more details because in her words, "You'll just want to go get her." Yes, exactly. I want to save her. Of course, I want to save the world, but I know it's not possible.

I wanted another puppy for my birthday I think because I was dealing with the knowledge of knowing there would be no more babies from me, but this is making me ache. There's nothing like a newborn baby to ground you and make you realize what's important. Sure, they grow up, but they grow into human beings you love as much as you did when they were babies. Do I want to go through the terrible twos again? Not really--but there are so many rewards that out weigh the negatives. If only...

I feel haunted not knowing...

18 Years and Counting

18 years ago, I married Mr. Polka Dot. They said it wouldn't last. Ha! I bet those inlaws who were waiting for our divorce are disappointed. I still love him today as much as I did then. Oddly, maybe even more. We've had our ups and downs and yeah, there were times when things weren't so good, but we plodded on and worked it out. 18 years together is a long time in our society these days. It seems like a tiny miracle. It also seems like yesterday. Our lives have changed so very much over the past few years. He managed to find a job where he's not miserable and stressed. That's made a world of difference for us. Gone are the fights over work stress. Thank goodness! He's also supported me tremendously over the past few years as I have worked to be successful in my own right. He's been supportive and understanding. He's cheered--ok, not literally--when I've met certain milestones and done all the things a good husband should do. He's a great guy. What else can I say? I have two wonderful children thanks to him. Happy 18th to US.