Fate, please be kind

DirecTV guy has been here more than three hours. I'm starting to get worried.

Tempting fate

So we have had TV for 11 days and we have to mess with it... That's just the way we roll.

In a fit the day after the second time Time Warner stood us up, we called DirecTV. We were very happy with them before. TW was just so much cheaper. Well, it was cheaper because there were less channels, the DVR function was weak (every now and again all our shows would just disappear and the cataloging was stupid), and you know the rest of the story.

Well, DirecTV is installing the new HD disk and DVR as I type. Is it a mistake? Will the last 11 days of working TV, phone AND computer be just a dream that we wish we hadn't woke up from? Will the dogs eat the dish? Stay tuned.

Happy Birthday Rod!

In honor of my brother Rod's birthday, I feel I should tell you childhood stories. I'm torn because there are some darn good ones. It's amazing my mother didn't have a heart attack from the things we did. She did get an ulcer, but I blame my dad for that one.

We only had about an hour between when we got out of school and when my mom got home from work. We were industrious children -- not really overachievers, but certainly not slackers -- so it was plenty of time to come up with something and then execute it on a regular basis. My mom would arrive home just in time to see the fruits of our efforts (and potentially save our lives or limbs if that was required).

Should I tell you the story about the time we dragged all the mattresses in the house on the front lawn so it would be "safe" to jump off the roof? My poor mother turned the corner onto our street just as the first kid jumped. Needless to say the rest of us didn't get a turn.

There's the time Rod jammed a tire iron through the middle of the door that connected the house to the garage. Then we hid it from my parents for the next 10 years (Ask Rod. It's true.)

Or the time Rod threw a match into a soda can filled with gas and water and then threw it into the garage. For some reason, I didn't think we needed to call the fire department on that one. 

"Fill this bucket in the tub. We can put it out."

Or there's the time Rod scared me so bad I couldn't stop screaming and the neighbors came over because they thought I was being bludgeoned to death.

That is a good story. It reveals Rod's stealth, cunning and cruel, cruel black heart (love you!).

Rod snuck into my bedroom and creeped under my bed before bedtime. I don't know how long he had to wait there, but he did, just waiting to torture his sister.

Now, I watched way too many of those afternoon movies in my childhood. One of them was the chiller thriller "Don't be afraid of the dark." Well, that just makes you afraid of the dark. It was creepy to a kid -- these creatures that lived in the furnace and came out only in the dark and tried to drag you down into the abyss with them. I can still see the lady grab a camera and try to use the flash to scare them off... I'm still creeped out about it.

So black-hearted Rod's waiting there under the bed as I crawl in (when Rod reads this, he'll still be giggling and pleased with himself). I pull up the covers and the bed moves ever so slightly. "Nah, that's just my imagination," I tell myself.

The bed moves slightly again. "Nah...."

I try to read my book. The bed moves again. My blood runs cold. Terror fills my heart.  "Mom?" I can barely get it out....

That's when Rod pushes his feet against the bottom of the bed as hard as he can and the bed is bouncing and flying around like crazy -- AND HE DOESN'T STOP. He just keep bouncing the bed around. I am screaming and screaming and screaming....

My parents come flying into the room. Rod has rolled out from under the bed barely breathing because he is laughing so hard, and I'm standing in the room screaming and screaming and screaming. I can't stop.

The neighbors come over because of all the screaming. It took awhile to calm me down. I even remember Rod trying to calm me down. He had probably reached that point that we all do at different times in childhood ("Oh. I've gone tooo far on this one.").

I'm not really scarred by the episode. I just check under the bed regularly and everything is OK...

Doing time

The story tonight at Vacation Bible School was about Paul and the time he spent imprisoned. The pastor loves to draw kids into the story so he asks the "Sophomore class" -- 1st and 2nd graders-- if any of them have ever been in prison.

One of them answered yes -- and then the second-grader remembered he hadn't been to the Big House after all. "It was some place else." We didn't ask for an explanation.

At this point another kid remembered he had a plan on how to escape if he ever ended up behind bars. "First you ask the guard guy to come very close to you ..."

Then a third child had to tell the pastor a secret -- hopefully not about jail time, but the pastor wasn't revealing anything.

I'm not sure Paul ever made it out of prison during story time.

Boys in uniform

I told you about that special time Neil and I shared on the 4th of July (My eye is recovering nicely). But I also wanted you to see these sweet boys who handed out flags while marching in the city's 4th of July parade. This was their 4th year. Neil is such a trooper. He's walked it every year.

Things to note:

1. Can you tell how long Jack's hair is? He loves it. Dean is living vicariously through Jack and is enjoying it also. It is getting long enough that people at church (and a few other places) stop me and mention how long his hair is. This has happened before but the tone is changing from "Wow, look at that beautiful hair!" to "Wow, look whose mom doesn't have any sense!"

2. Do you see Neil's badge thingy? I'm not sure what to call it. Neil had so many of his own badges from Cub Scout events that his Marna made him a really cool "sash" to put them on. He looks quite accomplished in it.

How long will it last?

It's Monday. We still have cable TV, phone service and internet access. Just in case you were keeping track. I'm thinking about adding a counter to this blog -- "5 days with access to basic household technology!"

The Summer of Time Warner

This summer is turning out to be the summer of waiting for Time Warner service people. Let me start by saying every service person who has come to my door has been very professional, very nice and not in the least bit condescending about the dogs and their ability to destroy the phone wires.

And the last gentleman was great. He actually MOVED the wire so the dogs couldn't get it -- a crazy idea, crazy brilliant! Unfortunately this same man also forgot to install the cable wire he was moving with that phone wire. So we haven't had cable since July 3.

Those of you with children understand my pain. Those of you with "Pokemon" and "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody" stored on your DVR will really understand my pain. My head will soon explode from those two theme songs. It's the only television we have had available for almost a week. I am willing to memorize the church hymns my grandma used to hum all day to make the pain go away.

We are waiting for the Time Warner serviceman again today -- from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. This will be the third day this week.

First was Sunday. Yes, Sunday. I was surprised too. I even asked the scheduler if he was sure, and then if he was double sure. He was double sure. But depending on who you talk to at any given time at the Time Warner service center, they do or do not make appointments on Sunday. Since I had an appointment this past Sunday (and a repair service order number. It was very official.), but no one showed up to repair the cable, I believe they make appointments but don't actually keep them. It's an innovative choice in customer service.

When we called on Sunday afternoon because no one showed ("Oh, we never make Sunday appointments."), we got an appointment on Tuesday -- from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. I called Tuesday morning to make sure they were coming and that they had my home number and my mobile number (They say the ALWAYS call before appointments, but so far they have NEVER called before an appointment. And I've had a lot of appointments -- I think we are up to 9 or 10 now -- so I consider just our house its own legitimate customer service testing sample.). I told them I would be gone for about an hour (Jack has swimmer's ear so bad we had to go to the pediatrician.), but I have a neighbor who will come over, let them in and stay while they are here. "That's fine. No problem. They will call."

Needless to say, we still don't have cable. I called again when it was 4 p.m. and they hadn't shown yet only to find the appointment cancelled ("So Sorry. We always call. We make appointments on Sunday. We have a pact with the devil to drive you insane....").

And did I mention that the Time Warner internet connection only works in the morning after I reboot the modem two times and only if my sign is in the house of technology? My favorite was my complaint e-mail that I sent using their form on the TW website (yes, I did go to the Time Warner Cable Southern California part), it bounced back as undeliverable.

It sort of sums up the whole Time Warner product promise -- undeliverable.

So here we are waiting for the TW service person again. I'm sure they will come between 1 p.m. and 5 p.m.

Happy 4th!

"Mom, do you want to play blinking?" asked Neil.

"Blinking?"

"Yeah. You stare at each other and you can't shut your eyes ever," he explains.

Ah, the kid wants a stare down. This I can do. I'm a champ. I have three younger brothers. I can totally stare someone down.

"OK. 1, 2, 3!" Neil yells. He opens his eyes as wide as possible. My eyes are open and staring the little man down. But he's not blinking. He's good.

Neil moves in closer. Closer. Closer. Closer. We are nose to nose.

Nose to nose with a sweet little 5-year-old. I'm staring at the soft pink cheeks of a boy who left babyhood not that long ago -- the perfect complexion and the roundness of his face. His long, little boy eyelashes are fluttering just slightly. His eyes are bright blue like his daddy's. He smells of chlorine and sunscreen from playing in the pool all afternoon.

I'm thinking that this is amazing. He is amazing. I really love being a mom. I am so blessed.

And then he pokes me in the eye. I blink.

"Ha, ha. I won!" He makes a fist pump and he is off...

Good Morning!

That "Good Morning!" is said with a heavy sarcastic tone. It's 7:03 a.m. and I've already:

1. diffused a Wii argument ("They keep saying 'honk,honk' at me," complains Neil. "Why?" asks a just-awakened Mom. "It's funny," answers Jack and his friend. "I'll show you funny ... " thinks Mom.)

2. cleaned up dog vomit from the stairs. There's always an amazing odor accompanying dog body fluids. It really sets the tone for the day.

3. thrown in a load of laundry because the kids dropped my good towels on top of the vomit to help.

It's going to be a long day. I can already tell.

The learning curve

There's lots to tell, but we are off to take Pa to the doctor. I just want to pose this one question:

"Is the fourth time the final straw? Will Time Warner charge us on Thursday when they come to fix the phone line for the FOURTH time because the dogs have ripped it out of the wall?"

OK, second question: "When will we learn?"