>I have a pet peeve. No, it’s not a cute and furry little pet peeve. It’s something that irritates the heck out me and irritates Amigo (a.k.a. El Grande), too. We (he) had an appointment yesterday. The doc’s office is out of town, about a forty minute drive. I left work and raced (as much as anyone can race through three school zones) over to Amigo’s school to pick him up. We hit the highway immediately, and got to the doc’s office at 3:55 for a 4:00 appointment.

I understand that offices of any kind can run behind as the day goes on.
I understand that any type of medical office can experience emergencies that interfere with timeliness.
I understand that things come up. Sometimes. Now and then.

40 minutes late. He saw us 40 minutes late. We had our 15 minute appointment, scheduled our follow-up, and were out the door.
40 minute drive, 40 minute wait, 15 minute appointment. Hold on — that was more like a 12 minute appointment and 3 minutes to schedule for next time. And we arrived five minutes early. Any way you push the buttons, the math doesn’t work.
Go back to the understanding mama of two paragraphs earlier. Where were we? Oh, yes. I understand that things come up. Sometimes. Now and then. But every time?! Every stinking time we come in? Does this clinic EVER run on time? This is typical, folks, typical. Never, ever has this doctor seen us on time or even close to it.
I plan to wait until I’m calm — or maybe I shouldn’t! — and write the clinic. This is so…so unprofessional. So inconsiderate. So doggone rude! He has more education than I do, charges more per hour, holds more titles than I do, but does that mean my time is worth so little? I’ll answer that myself.
No. My time is worthwhile. My child’s time is worthwhile. It’s time to shop around for another doctor who will respect our time as well as our medical needs. Darn, I wish it were easier.

>El Grande is taller than I am. He has been for at least three years now, and he keeps getting taller. However, he seems to be earning a new nickname. He’s still tall, and will continue to be tall, but he seems to be attracting furry friends, including our own rabbits and the dogs next door. Today he formally introduced one dog to Grandma. “Shelby, this is my grandma. Grandma, this is Shelby.” The dog seemed to acknowledge the introduction while stretched out on the driveway enjoying being petted. We’d have a cat if it weren’t for my allergies, too. My brother has been cat-sitting long term for a relative that couldn’t bring her cat into a new apartment. The cat dislikes everyone — except my family. The Evil Feline actually likes my Husband, La Petite, and El Grande. We could take it in — but it would make me wheeze, so we won’t.
So anyway, El Grande needs a new name. From this day on, the tall one will be known as El Amigo de los Animales, or Amigo for short. Unless, of course he reads the blog and tells me that he likes being El Grande better. (Um, gee, kiddo, if you’re reading Mom’s blog, tell me what you think!)

>*sitting on a backyard swing after supper and feeling the week’s tension drain from my shoulders
*watching El Grande pet the neighbor’s dog and explain to me, “she’s not whining, she just has anxiety.”
*enjoying the scent of clean red cedar litter in the bunny hutch
*giving a now-healthy bunny his last dose of antibiotics
*harvesting a monster tomato just as it ripens
*seeing two green zucchini trying to grow
*handing a bunny a big leaf from the broccoli plant and seeing him practically inhale it
*knowing the final Jeopardy answer, er, question
*getting email updates from La Petite at college
*snuggling a bunny in the backyard swing, listening to crickets chirping
*knowing that my alarm won’t go off at 5:30 tomorrow morning
Now that’s priceless.

>Yesterday was one of “those” days. I felt like I’d already worked for hours before I left the driveway. It was the day the cleaning service comes, which requires some advance preparation. It was the second day of school, which means I began the morning already tired out from the day before.
Before breakfast:
I fed both rabbits.
I super-caged the house bunny to keep him out of the way of the cleaning service and keep him from leaving any “rabbit raisins” around the house after they left.
I showered (practically sleep-walked through it) and dressed in my work clothes (Ha! You were expecting my Superhero uniform, weren’t you?!).
Then:
I got a super breakfast for El Grande.
I made sure he brushed his teeth.
And more:
I cleaned the house bunny’s litter box and set it outside to super-dry.
I super-wiped down the floor to get any “misses” around the litter box area.
I packed my super-lunch and cleared the table of breakfast dishes.
I emptied the dishwasher of clean dishes and put the super-dirty ones inside.

THEN I went to work.
For the most part, it was a good day at school with tired but happy students. However, it was a super-busy day with no real breaks except recess — barely enough to zoom to the bathroom.
I tried to work at my super-desk after school, but (due to recent construction) there was a huge super-vacuum truck outside and just below my window. I could deal with the noise (I teach pre-adolescents, after all), but the stench of diesel exhaust was too much. I packed up my super-work and flew (okay, drove) home.

Back home again:
I re-filled the super-clean litter box and brought it inside.
I brought the small furry one inside again.
Small not-so-adorable furry one left a “gift” on the clean bathroom rug to express his displeasure: one tiny rabbit turd.
I put not-so-super supper in the oven. Okay, I admit it, it was from a box (potpies and buttermilk biscuits), but it was a meal.
Then, and only then, I reached for the super-strength ibuprofen.

Did Superman get headaches when he saved the world? Because Supermom sure does. But fortunately, Supermom thinks like Scarlett O’Hara, not like Kal-el — tomorrow will be another day!

This oldie-but-goodie is my entry in Scribbit’s Write-Away contest for July ’08. Her theme is Wonder Woman; I thought the Super Mom parallel was appropriate.

>

the big picture — taken from the entrance to the room

“my” corner, with my desk and the computer pod

That’s El Grande in the background helping out. He saved me a lot of time!

Science corner, with posters, new vocabulary, and kits (still in the boxes)

Classroom leveled library, also known as the Book Nook

Wow, I feel better. There is still work to do, mainly planning for the rest of the week, but the room looks a lot better. I could welcome a visiting parent now, and last week I would have panicked at the thought. Now the only panic is wondering if I’ll really have all of my lesson plans ready when the kids come in the door! Somehow, it always works out. I will work at my desk all day today (Tuesday) and welcome the families to Open House tonight. By then, I’ll have my plan book ready, and all of my art paper cut out, and the puzzles copied, and the chart paper posted, and … oh, no, I’m panicking again. Where’s the coffee?

>

The pile grows…

…and grows.

Can I bring my rabbit?

Sorry, no more room. It’s either the rabbit or your shoes.

(Just kidding! The rabbit stayed home.)

>

Since the lightning hit and the internet went out, we have:

Re-learned the pinball game on the computer
Bought a new answering machine
Replaced the small bedroom TV that was also fried by the lightning strike
Actively looked for local places that have free wi-fi (found four within two miles of home)
Read a good book
Read a professional magazine
Slowed down to smell the rose (yes, my rosebush has only one bloom on it)
Listened to CDs while cooking supper instead of internet radio
Shopped for college dorm supplies
Baked bread – twice
Bought a bike helmet and lock

Okay, it’s not all sweet and lovely. Our attempt to contact the local phone company and tell them that our entire neighborhood’s phones were out was not the smoothest piece of customer service. Husband called on his cell phone from the deck, since our cells don’t work well inside the house. He went through a whole menu of options and pressed all the right buttons, or so he thought. “If you want customer service, press 3. If you need assistance, press 4. If you want to push more buttons, press 9. If you enjoy being on hold, press 6. If you wish to hear more recorded messages, press 8. If you have something to say, please stand on your head and press 2.” Eventually he reached a person, who said, “May I have your phone number please? I’ll check your account. Oh, you’re fully paid up. Thank you! Goodbye.” Click.
“ARGH! That’s not what I wanted!” He called again. This time he reached a different customer service connection with a recording (still not a real live person) that responded with “we’ll do a remote check of your phone number now. Please hold.” He danced impatiently to the over-modulated hold music (it drives engineers like him crazy) until another recorded message came on and said, “We have confirmed that your number is not working. We will send a service representative out as soon as one is available. If they confirm that there is a problem, it will be repaired within 24 hours.”
Yes, we do have phone service now. A repair crew spent the next two days on our block. Real people – not recordings!

He went through a similar and lengthy process after we bought a new router modem (the diagnosis of the repair team) tonight. It took the entire first half (and more) of the Monday Night Football game and another long phone call to the helpdesk to get us up and online again. But I’m back now! Thanks for all the encouragement.