Soda Pop and Screen Time

At least once a week, if not twice, someone in the family has been going to visit a doctor. I've been sick and I missed N's performances of "Cinderella" and J's 15th birthday while I shivered and slept for two days. Children with infected toes and bronchitis. Could it have anything to do with this long, long, cold winter? (The last day of March and it's still snowing!)

On Tuesday J & W, ages 4 and 6, went to the pediatrician's office for their annual well child visits.

We weren't able to schedule with Dr. Murphy, who has been caring for the boys for 15 years now. Instead, we saw a different doctor, Dr. Bauer, who was new to us.

Keep in mind that W is a very good story-teller. He has a wonderful imagination and he often role plays Super Heroes and other characters. Our own doctor, Dr. Murphy, knows this. She knows that WestBerry Dad is very tall. She understands that accidents happen, often, in a house full of boys.

It seemed impolite to warn the new doctor about W's stories. In fact, I didn't get a chance to speak with her much at all. The office is going to electronic record keeping and for a good 30 minutes we waited in the tiny rom while she typed and reviewed records.

W filled the new doctor's ears with some pretty tall tales.

"I watch TV for AT LEAST six hours every day." I watch the Wii and play the Ipod, Playstation 3 and my DS." (2 out of three of those items are currently lost in his room)

"We eat candy for breakfast."

"I don't like milk. I drink a lot of soda."(He gets soda a few times each YEAR thank you!)

(At least he didn't throw in any good child abuse stories. for that I should be grateful.)

And she bit. Hook, line and sinker.

We had to stay an extra hour for "eat five vegetables of every color in the rainbow" practice because their BMI had increased by 3%. We discussed alternatives to screen time.

I smiled and nodded.

Spectacles

Glasses are not merely an accessory for me. They are a necessary evil. After wearing my contacts for the first 16 hours of the day, I put them on, sit or lay on the couch or my bed, and very soon, a child (or the poodle) comes over to cuddle and pushes them back into the bridge of my nose or deep into my temples.

It's a ritual I savor. I read two or three pages of a magazine and then wake myself back up by my loud snoring, throw the magazine on the floor and turn off the light.

It's been many, many years since the purchase of new glasses. Please don't ask me how long. I don't remember.

I went to the optometrist/optician yesterday and they asked me over and over, "how OLD are these glasses?" The experience stirred up a wide range of childhood fears (and grown up frustrations, like trying to keep my 4-year old entertained for two hours in a small dark room).

"You really do need to have your eyes dilated."("I'm sorry, I can't. I don't have anyone to drive me home." 10x)

"You need such a strong prescription that they don't even make contacts in that power!"

"Your face is such an unusual size and shape." "And your eyes, they are set very close together."

Unless you choose the super expensive, high tech lenses with anti-glare coating, your glasses will be very thick and heavy" (and you will look like a...)

"Well ok, if you like those frames. I was taught that people with a head shaped like yours would look better in sharp angles."

$350 later (after my insurance benefit) my 4-year old was finally free to go back to swinging from vines. We treated ourselves to filled cupcakes at the bakery and I drove the hour home, without dilated pupils.

Resident Evil

Today is my oldest son's 15th Birthday. I'm so impressed by the young man he has become. I could go on an on about his accomplishments and his character. That's not a picture of my son, by the way.

Along with certificates and victories, this school year has been characterized by several tragic events. His friend Katy was murdered by her brother-in-law. Yesterday, another friend took her own life by hanging herself at the local park. Who found her? Why?

I asked the children about her last night. Erin was kind. She had a boyfriend. She was a great student. And she colored her hair almost every day ("ahhh, an artist," I thought)

Evil seems to be swirling closer and closer. I'm haunted by a recent news report about a man, David Wampler, who drugged and raped teenagers in his home. He supplied them every kind of drug from cocaine to oxycontin to nitrous oxide.

David was my student for two semesters. He was the kind of person who made the hair on my arms stand up when he walked by. I dreaded facing him in the hallway or in my office. He often visited me to ask for favors or to talk about his "wild" trips to Ibiza and Mallorca.

I'm not saying I knew he was a criminal. Really, I don't know what conclusion to draw or what lesson to take away except the piercing reality that I need to be all the more vigilant.

Reoccurring Nightmares

This morning my oldest son got his first pair of contacts as part of a 3-month "fitting" process. For $120 he can try as many different brands of contact lenses as he likes until he finds the most comfortable fit.

A technician tried to explain the process of rinsing and inserting the lenses as well as the "pinching" involved in removing them each day.

J had a hard time putting the lenses in. His eyes watered; the contacts folded themselves over and dried out. After two hours we drove home and I could see that he was uncomfortable; he complained that his vision was worse instead of improved.

I've been wearing contacts for over 30 years. I no longer think about the steps involved to hold open the upper eyelid while pulling down the lower. I look at oncoming lenses straight on. But every once in awhile I have the re-occurring contact lens nightmare where a contact floats behind my eyeball or stings like a plank in the eye.

Another reoccurring nightmare is more like a flashback. My mother is running after me screaming that I'm going to miss the school bus. It's the first day of class and I can't find my classrooms. Towards the end, my high school won't let me graduate (this almost happened because I spent my junior year abroad and my senior year attending a nearby college).

Since starting my new job with Cellular Sales I've dreamt about helping people with their phone problems. All night long. Every night. I swear to you I haven't dreamt about any other subject despite my attempt at "creative imagery" from 8 p.m. on.

Most of my waking hours are spent helping people fix their phone problems. There's Monica who's husband bought her an "Ally" phone ("this isn't a real Droid"). Dawn was overcharged for data on a suspended line for six months. Lost chargers, broken LCD's, depleted batteries. Every day the same issues and maybe a few new ones.

And every night my own reoccurring cell phone nightmares.

Community Ties

This morning I ran to the local gas station/deli for gas. I'd fed and packed for the little boys, seen the big boys off on the bus, showered and dressed. I wasn't well dressed...khaki pants, a white polo, sneakers. With my glasses on and wet hair I went inside to pay and the owner noted, "you're looking a little disheviled today."

Usually I go to get gas on my way to the store. I'm dressed in a business suit and heels. I go there to buy gas even though gas is more expensive than the Hess station in town. I don't get any points on my college savings plan (where I would at a Mobil station) but I like the idea of supporting the family who owns the deli. They're my neighbors.

And because Dave cares to ask about my day. "Well, I'm working 6 days this week. Today is my day off but I'm going to go to my second job, even though I gave notice a month ago, because they haven't been able to hire anyone. And I'm bracing myself, because I need to take my 3-year-old with me." (I ultimately decided against this idea, but this was my thinking at 8 a.m.).

Dave replied, "whoa."

Some folks I grew up with came into the store last night and worked with another rep (even though they know I work there. They've been in before. We've talked.) Their son Mark showed me his beat up ENVY phone. He was rather proud of the way he could use it as a flash light as the back light glowed through the face plate, now in pieces.

"Whoa."

The rep, a "visitor" from Tenesee, sold him a Chocolate Touch phone. I had to resist the urge to ask why in the world he convinced the family to buy that particular phone. It's not the least bit durable. I already knew the answer...the Chocolate Touch is cheap. When we sell it we make money.

This rep would go home to Tennessee, leaving me to face his disgruntled customer.

I had to wonder, why didn't this family ask to work with me or make an appointment with me? I could have helped them by charging them less AND by finding a phone that was more durable and well-suited for Mark.

It's about community.

Celebrity

We have a Discussion Board at work shared by reps from across the country. Recently, someone posted the question, "Have you met any celebrities while on the job?"

It turns out that most of the celebrities who had come into Verizon stores for service were athletes. Or, those were the names that the reps remembered or decided to brag about.

Me, I got to meet "Mud Freak" this week, an enormous lime green monster truck right out of the video, "Trucks Gone Wild." The truck's owner needed a new line and a new phone and I sold him the "Cosmos." I thought later that I should have sold him a lime green cover for his phone (to match his truck) because we do sell those.

I've also met the father-in-law of the maid-of-honor at Francesca Batistelli's wedding. The wedding reception took place at Michael W. Smith's place.

Now I'm only three steps removed from Frannie B. :)+

A Bittersweet Farewell

This morning I drove around campus for a good 20 minutes before finding an empty parking space. Because the campus is bordered on the north by the Erie canal and on the south by a school campus, its shape is long and narrow. Parking is limited and students, who tend to arrive with few minutes to spare before class, "hover" in the middle of parking lots. When a spot opens up, they strike.

I won't miss trying to find a parking spot, or paying $80 a semester for a pass.

I gave my notice a few weeks ago but agreed to keep working, on a limited basis, until a new Business Manager could be hired.

I will miss working in the same building as a Barnes & Noble bookstore, KFC, pizza shop, and coffee shop. This morning I popped into the bookstore and found a book by Susie Orman for just $3. Wouldn't she be proud of me for saving money over full retail price?!

I registered for a free conference here on campus. It takes place next Thursday and we'll be hanging out with "Mrs. Huxtable", actress Felicia Rashad.

I'll miss the fact that I can blog at work in a quiet, windowless basement, with few to no interruptions. Isn't that "few to no interruptions" part priceless?!