First of Third

Today is the first day of school for Olivia.

 Third Grade

 Olivia can't believe she is going into third grade. She says she feels way too young to be a third grader.  I feel the exact same way.

 It should be a good year though.  Miracle of all miracles, we managed to get in the same class with our friend and carpool buddy, Ella. They haven't been in the same class together since kindergarten.  Their other good friend Cassie is in the same class too, but Cassie was home sick today.  I'm excited for them all to be in the same class together.

Our school has gone to year round this year.  Boo. That means that she will be in third grade until next July 3.  Double boo.   It also means she started a week before Will and Audrey, who will both start next Monday.  I must say that this is the calmest first day of school I have ever had. Which is ironic, since both Dan and I were around this year to manage things.  It is a far cry from the days when I was on my own with five kids in three different schools, running around trying to get everybody to their new classes on time and get pictures taken and fighting the first-day crowds, and with a baby in my arms to boot.  Olivia's track was the only track starting this year, which means that only a quarter of the usual crowd was there.   And there were two of us to wrangle only one kid.  It was weird.  Nice, but weird. Maybe next Monday will be a little more of the crazy that seems normal.

Fair Day

The Davis County Fair was in full swing today, so we decided to make an appearance.  I can't decide what is the most interesting part of the fair: the animals or the people.  Something about county fairs brings out the most interesting mix of humanity.  Maybe it's because they all just love baby pigs as much as I do.

Seriously?  Has anything ever been so cute?   I am in love.  I want to be a pig farmer. I think he was a runt too.  He could not have weighed more than three pounds. Olivia was equally infatuated.

We also found Wilbur alive and well at the fair this year, and looking for Charlotte.    He is cute too,  but 150 pounds of cute is not as cute as 3 pounds of cute.

We also braved the petting zoo, which was full of mostly goats, but also a donkey, a llama, a camel, and a few calfs.  Audrey really connected with the goats.  Seeing as how she is famous for her goat impression, this didn't surprise me.  If you haven't heard Audrey's goat impression, you need to. 

I like this guy's approach.

And then, Olivia rode an elephant.

Look at the kid at the front.  He was riding by himself, as was Olivia, so me and his mom kind of teamed up and bonded over our kids riding an elephant together.  Only she kept saying how you never know what might happen....the elephant could get spooked over any little thing, and start to stampede, and what would any of us do,  nobody would be able to stop him, and it would be just her luck that her kid would be on the stampeding elephant.  I think she should not talk about things like that until after MY kid is off the elephant.

I know this is terrible.  It's probably animal abuse.  I did feel sorry for the elephants.  They didn't look too happy.  But I rode an elephant when I was a kid, at Hogle Zoo of all places, and I never expected to see an elephant ride again.  But it's completely out of my system now.  No more cruel elephant rides for this family.

Oh, and rest easy. There was no stampeding.  Olivia actually lucked out and got the happier elephant of the two.  The other elephant was dragging his trunk on the ground and making a lot of noise.  He was the one who was thinking about stampeding.  Olivia's elephant was quite chipper.

And here is what these two were doing during our great elephant encounter.  They were way too cool to ride any elephant.  They saved their money for necklaces.  The boys were home.  They were too cool to come to the fair at all.

We stopped by the big animals, visited the bunny barn and the chickens, and even braved the vendor booths.  We did not buy a funnel cake, or ride the rides or play any games.  We did not even spin the wheel for  a free hermit crab.  We just stopped for snow cones on the way home, and called it our day at the fair.  And it was.

Scripting

 It's always feast or famine in the pharmacy.  In the course of one day, the crazies will all come out at the same time, all the old people run out of their alzheimer pills, the phone rings off the hook, the doctors lose their minds or go on vacation, and the insurance world experiences some kind of apocalypse that wreaks havoc on pharmacy claims.   The next day: Dead.

Today was a feast day.

And man oh man did I talk to some weirdos today at work.  And was I ever a rock star!  I was so nice to those poor people, who just needed to vent to someone about the color of their drugs and how the doctor forgets every single month that he promised he was going to call in their prescription early this month because they are going out of town.   Then there was the guy who had to have his ADD drugs so he wouldn't get fired from his job for running off at the mouth. Good grief.  My advice?  Stay away from the drugs, people.  Stay far, far away.  

My very most favorite part of the day was talking to the customer service guy at the insurance company.  His name was Jason, he had a very strong Indian accent, and I will bet my left foot that Jason was not his real name.   Of course, before I ever got to talk to Jason, I spent 10 minutes dealing with their automated phone system, which went like this:

pleasant sounding computerized voice:  Thank you for calling blah blah blah insurance company. Are you calling about a part D claim? Please say yes or no.

me: no.
pscv:  Are you calling about  a retail claim other than Tricare? Please say yes or no.

me: yes.

pscv:  Please enter the identification number for the person you are calling for.

me:  I don't have it.

pscv:hmmm, lets try something else. Please enter the phone number for the person you are calling for.

me: enters phone number

pscv: I'm sorry. That doesn't seem to be a valid phone number. Please try again.

I try again.

pscv:  Let's try something else.  Please enter the identification number for the person you are calling for.

me: customer service

pscv: okay.  I'll connect you to a representative.  But first I need a little more information.  Please enter the identification number for the person you are calling for.

me:  I DON' T HAVE IT.

pscv: hmmm, lets try that again. Please enter the identification number for the person you are calling for.

me:  HUMAN BEING

pscv: Let me connect you to someone who can help.

this is the point where Jason comes in to the conversation.  I tell him I need an id number. He says he will be more than happy to help me. Then he asks for the rx number I am calling about.  I tell him the rx number is going to do him absolutely no good.  Since I do not have the id number, I have not been able to run the claim through, and he not going to find any claim from us in his system.  I just need him to look up the id number.  Then he says, "Yes, thank you, I would be more than happy to help you with that and what is the rx number you are calling about?" 

 Sigh. Arguing is futile.  I give him the rx number, and he says, "That number is not pulling anything up in my system." Duh.  " Would you like me to conduct a name and date of birth search for you?"

Oh yes, that would be lovely, Jason. Thanks. How is the weather in Delhi today?

After several more minutes, Jason provides me with a hard won id number.  I run the claim, only to get a rejection message that coverage expired in 2007.

JASON! You are messing with my mind!!  2007 was six  years ago!  But Jason only says, " I show active coverage for this patient."

Long silence.

Then he says, "Would you like me to search for active coverage for this patient?"

I don't know. Are you going to ask me for an rx number again?  Please say yes or no.

Okay, so I did embellish some of my answers with a teensy little bit more sarcasm than I actually used.  But the pscv and Jason? Those lines are pretty much word for word.  So yeah, if I'm on a little bit of a short chain when I get off work, now you'll know why.

August Highs and Lows

 Hmm, must be August. It's hot.  Really really hot. And the air is hazy from three or four different wildfires that are burning around the state.  The grass is dry, the flowers are starting to look tired, and the weeds are thriving.  Wow, that could be a metaphor for my life right now.  Nah, there is no way I am in the August of my life yet.  June maybe, but for sure not August.

We heard the good news today that Erwann's visa was approved!! So he and Alisa are really truly and for sure moving to California in a few weeks.  That has been the plan for a long time now, but until he nailed down the job and the visa, things were very much tentative.  Now, their plans have firmed up, and they are relieved to not be stressing about the visa anymore.   Now all they have to worry about is making a transcontinental move, getting to California in an old Buick, finding a cheap apartment and furnishing it, and learning their way around in Southern California traffic!  Oh, and finding Alisa a job too. Sounds like quite the adventure, no??  I only wish we were in a position to help them out a little more. 

Dan is slowly recovering from surgery.  He is up and around pretty good, but still sore and still can't lift anything or do too much physically.  Looking back on everything that went on last month, we came to the realization that July was absolutely hellish.  It's kinda scary, how every month this year has been worse than the one before.   At the end of June, we were riding high, thinking that we had survived the worst of it and were on our way back up, only to get the hardest battering yet in July.  I'm really kind of scared about what might be in store for us the rest of this year.

No matter though.  We'll gird up our loins, fresh courage take. Plenty of folks have survived way worse than what we have. People keep telling me to take it one day at a time.  What they don't know is that we gave up trying to  do one whole day at a time months ago. We are down to taking 12 hours at a time, and praying for a decent night's sleep in between.  And now, I am off to face down the medical bills that have been filling up my mailbox this week!

Now We Just Need a Boat

We wound up whiling away the afternoon at Willard Bay yesterday and took 136 pictures.  It was a lovely day. 

The water is so low, there is an island out about a quarter mile from the beach.   The kids had a great time swimming out there and back.  Even Olivia made the trip twice.  Don't worry, Grandma, we all had our life jackets on.

Nothing like spending a day in the water and sun to rejuvenate your soul.  Life may be crappy right now, but yesterday was a good day.  And now, it's almost Wednesday again.  Half way back to the weekend.

The Last Days

I have given up on trying to be productive on my one week day off, especially with everybody else at home.  It's best to just roll with whatever is happening and not think too hard about what needs to be getting done and is not.  Because no matter what I think, nothing gets done, and if I am planning on nothing getting done, at least I don't have a coronary because of it.  A little queasiness, yes, but no palpitations.  Embrace the slothfulness.  Lower your standards. Seize the day.  Whatever.  Maybe one day I will have Mondays to  myself again.

At any rate, this Monday is not a day to waste.  This Monday is Olivia's last Monday of summer vacation, and my last day off with her this week. So we are off to live it up and do something that feels like summer.  Not sure exactly what yet, but hopefully something involving sunscreen. And snow cones. Pictures to come.

Pain in the Neck

Short update from the hospital, where we are being held captive for another night while Dan recovers from his neck surgery which has a really long fancy name that I can never remember. Actually I'm not being held captive, except for love. I can, and very soon will, bust out of this joint tonight and head for my own bed.Hopefully Dan will be freed tomorrow, and life can then throw it's next curve ball our way.

Do I sound bitter? Because I'm not. The surgery appears to have been successful. Other than surgical pain, he is doing pretty well. His arm pain is gone. Hallelujah.  The kids have been spoiled at grandma's house for the past few days. Everybody at the hospital has been fantastic. We have great insurance. So many pieces fell into place just right to make this surgery miraculously come together in three short days from his initial consult with the doctor. My co-workers stepped up to the plate for me and covered my shifts at work on short notice so that I could be here. No doubt in my mind we have been greatly blessed.

But man oh man am I tired. Florence Nightingale I am not. Playing nurse makes me grumpy and I haven't even really started the full-time caregiver role yet.  I hope for both our sakes that he gets better fast. Worrying about people with screws loose in their necks stresses me out. Every time he moves for the next few weeks I am going to cringe just a little bit inside. No matter that I have the doctor's and the physical therapists reassurance that movement is good, as long as it's not painful, I'm still going to worry that he's going to do something stupid and break himself.