Monday, April 13, 2015
Welcome to my complain-a-thon—join in!
My boss, who reads this blog, stopped by my office the other day. "You never complain!" she marveled. I objected—I do complain. For a second there, I was tempted to have my husband call her as proof (he is the main recipient of my gripes), but then I didn't think that would do anything to further my career.
I've often said that if I would have started Love That Max when Max was a baby, this would have been a pretty bleak blog, but he's in a good place now and so am I. Upon further consideration, though, I think it would be quite cathartic to air a list of prime grievances and Monday morning seems like a fine time to do this. So, here goes:
Husband: After all these years, I still do not understand why if I ask you to do something or buy something, I get an email from you shortly thereafter asking you to remind me what I said. Also: Why is it you never notice that the kitchen garbage is overflowing? How come you put milk cartons in the fridge with approximately 1/16th of an inch of milk left in them? Also: There is no clothing fairy in our house who picks up the stuff you leave lying on the floor. It's me.
Children: Would it be so hard to let us sleep past 6:30 a.m. and entertain yourselves? We are really not fun at 6:30 a.m. And would it be so hard to put dirty stuff in the dishwasher? Also: See "clothing fairy" above and the hampers in your rooms. Also: How is it possible that you not learned by now that whining gets you nowhere? Word.
Family: Why does getting out of the house on weekday mornings bring new chaos every single time, like we have never done this before?
Cerebral palsy: You sure haven't gotten the best of Max but I can't stand it when you make his left foot turn in and it causes him to stumble. The walking is hard won. Do not mess him up.
Insurance company: Given that it is your job to process claims, how do you regularly lose the ones I submit for Max's therapies? Where do they go?
Max's bus driver: It does not bode well for your common sense that you drove his bus into a big rock at the end of our block, despite being told not to U-turn there because—wait for it—there is a big rock there. Max's bus company: Being told the bus driver "means well" is not very reassuring.
House: Why must everything that needs fixing cost a minimum of $1000?
Schools: Could you not schedule big-deal student events during the workday? Some parents have jobs.
Paperwork: Just, endless. Why can't schools and camps digitize at least some information so that parents are not filling out the same forms every single year?
Metabolism: There is a special place in hell for metabolisms like you.
Doctors' offices: It is awful to make parents and kids wait more than a half hour. Also: You need to replace the prehistoric waiting rooms toys. Some news station would have a gleeful time doing germ testing on them.
Max's therapists: No complaints here, only gratitude...well, other than this occurrence at the IEP, but she seems to be coming around.
Work: Er, see "My boss reads this blog."
Special needs equipment suppliers: True story! I used to get Max a hand splint from the Benik company to help keep his left hand more open, since he tends to want to tighten it up. This year, we had a school therapist measure his left hand, and then she had an orthotics company order them from Benik. Cost I've paid for one splint: about $50. Cost orthotics company charged for one splint: $300. Also see: adaptive feeding spoons that run $30 and adaptive toys for $399.
Solicitors who call our home despite the fact that we are on the Do Not Call registry: This is annoying and illegal. I hope you enjoy your conversation with Max.
Chin: Would you kindly stop sprouting random hairs?
Mommy: You are elderly and dealing with a lot. How is it you do not complain? I guess I inherited my stoicism from you. I wish you would complain just a little bit. You deserve to. Hmm, I guess I do too. I could get used to this!
Boss lady: I hope this is sufficient proof of my non-sainthood.
Everyone: What complaints do you have today?
Image source: Flicker/_6ft5
Posted by Ellen Seidman at 6:40 AM