And yes, I'm super-motivated (we like to use the term "task-oriented" around here) to get everything done before I am unable to do anything but point and stammer. I figure I have another 4 weeks or so before I'm completely useless.
So, organizational ADD or not, we're making things happen. And by we I mean myself and BY, who is really the brains of the whole situation around here. The yard doesn't resemble the Amazon quite so much anymore (although needs a lot more work... ahem, Mom??), and the work-zone that is our house is starting to look like a home. Without a kitchen, that is.
So, you've all read the Sears entry (if you haven't that's a good one). And most of you know that Mike and I are really frugal people. If our bank accounts had met first, we would have been married long before our brains took three tries to get everything right. We just don't go into debt easily, so buying a house and then promptly throwing a ton of money into a flooring/kitchen remodel is sorta like stabbing rusty nails into our eyeballs... just really painful to think about.
And you know about the credit card issues I have... great credit (the mortgage lender said that Mike and I were like the super-couple of credit scores), but next-to-impossible to get a new credit card (that time at Sears they asked me for my phone number from medical school! That's just not fair!! How anyone successfully steals my identity when I don't even know my identity is ridiculous....) So, it's fallen on Mike to secure credit to pay for our new energy-efficient gadgets. This has led to Mike's discovery of the concept of "layaway."
For someone who has never been in debt like Mike, layaway is kinda perfect. I mean, in a month or two when he is gainfully employed, the immediate cash flow things will all work out. The first time he did it, at Sears, he walked away sorta confused. Then, last weekend, when I insisted (the baby and the back discomfort insisted, really) on a new mattress, we did it again, at Sears. That time Mike walked away with a huge smile on his face, screaming in the parking lot: "Let's put EVERYTHING on layaway!!" (Note to self: this is how credit problems start. Need to get Mike working asap.)
And lest we forget the point of this blog, we are, in fact, having a baby. I know that when you also simultaneously move to a new city, start new jobs, buy a new/old house, and embark on a remodel, the poor little BabyYarnoz gets lost in the shuffle. I mean, she tries all she can to remind us that she's really in there -- the 900 trips to the bathroom a day sorta helps. But to be honest, I can actually forget for a while what's to come. Thankfully, there's always a trip to the OB around the corner to remind me.
For you women, you may or may not remember trips to the OB. At your first visit, you don't actually see the doctor. Instead, you see a nurse who is paid a salary to tell pregnant women all day long what not to do:
- No smoking, drinking alcohol/caffeine/juice/anything else remotely delicious
- No lifting more than 1 pound objects, laying on your back, abdominal crunches or really any other enjoyable forms of exercise, but make sure not to be a fat slob
- No working in the yard unless wearing three layers of clothing and thick gloves (umm... huh?)
- No eating of most cheeses that actually taste good (what in the world do pregnant women in France do???)
- No deli meats unless they've been heated to a crisp...
- No taking of many over the counter remedies that actually help your ailments...Blah blah blah...
I mean, the list is a mile long. Not to mention that I unfortunately know that most of this stuff does not have peer-reviewed data to support, and I get an email every week or so (thanks to the 2 years of MPH studies) telling me exactly when and where there are listeria outbreaks. Then there's all my pregnant OB friends who very cheerfully break ALL of these rules (I mean, it was Darlene who made me my first pregnancy latte at her baby shower a couple of months ago.)
(Back to the visit).... Seemingly several hours later, after admitting to doing nothing (well, I dazed off for a second and admitted to an "occasional" soda, prompting the nurse to first a scathing stare and then a firm scold... thankfully I didn't admit to the coffee drinking), they shipped me off to the "benefits" person.
So, rightfully scolded, I shuffle/waddle off to another office where a very unpleasant woman slaps two pieces of paper in front of me and begins not with a "Hello, how nice for you that you're expecting" and all that B.S. that people usually say to pregnant women:
"If you have a normal vaginal delivery, you will owe us $3900, and if you have to have a c-section, it will be $4400. This does NOT include anything you will owe to the hospital, pediatrician, anesthesiologist, lab tech, nursing staff, greeter, car parker, housekeeper, zookeeper, etc etc etc." (I mean, jeez, I get the point lady. This sh#%* is expensive.) "Now, your family deductible is a gazillion dollars," at which point I earn my second scathing stare when I mention that her source is incorrect, because I don't have a family plan and my third scathing stare by mentioning that in a week my health insurance will change to an entirely new plan.
Anyway, you get the point. Extremely unpleasant. Like being told you won a million dollars but you'll have to pay 2 million dollars to get it. I sit back and wonder that if my cynical self thinks this is sorta ridiculous, certainly it would swipe the smile off the face of a 20-something newlywed girl in the buoyant 10th week of her first pregnancy.
Suddenly I realize she's asked me a question. "Umm... sorry, excuse me, what was that??"
"I SAID, now you need give us $200 up front, before we take you on as a patient. Will that be cash, check, Visa, or Mastercard?"
And that was that. I think to myself: Baby Yarnoz is now on layaway. Mike will be so proud.
It's Lay-A-Way!!!
ReplyDeleteAnd YES I AM!!!