Ever the Drama Queen

Grandma likes the drama, she even likes to manufacture it when she can. Most of us are on to her antics.

Grandma has assisted care insurance plan which pays a portion of any assisted living costs or nursing home costs. Back when she was in assisted living I was over getting her stuff for her taxes to drop them off to her tax person. When I was there she whips out this letter, which is about a month old. She asks me to read it and wants to know what it means. I read it. It says that the nursing home hasn’t sent in their paper work. I ask if my mother has seen it, or her sister (my aunt). My grandma says “I don’t know maybe, I don’t think they did.” So first off I tell Grandma that if my mom hasn’t read it that she needed to show it to my mom. I get some flippant remark about how she won’t do anything. The whole story I’m being fed just seems a little fishy, so I snap a photo of the letter and text it to my mom. A few moments later I get a phone call from my mom. I end up calling my mom back after I leave Grandma’s. Turns out this letter which says she might get denied (start the whole process over) if the nursing home doesn’t get in the paper work has been getting whipped out to every relative that comes to visit for the past month. My aunt called then nursing home and gave them the what-for and got it handled. There was also a follow up letter that stated the paperwork had been turned in – that letter never got pulled out for random relatives to read.

Months go by, the insurance company needs other various paper work and letters and whatever else, now Grandma is out of the assisted living center and back at home. She gets a letter that was delivered to my mom’s house from the company. Grandma reads the letter out loud…

“…..As a reminder to continue to issue refunds for your care and you are still in a care facility we need monthly billing statement sent do us. If you have not already you should receive your insurance checks soon….”

Grandma puts down the letter and starts yelling

“THOSE BASTARDS! I KNEW THEY WERE GOING TO SWINDLE ME OUT OF MY MONEY!”

Uh?

“I’m canceling my plan, this is bull. Those bastards taking my money all these years just to keep all of it.”

Husband is giving grandma the raised eyebrow. I’m in the other room laughing. My mom is just looking at her exasperated. My mom then tells Grandma to re-read the letter. Grandma is affronted. WHY?

Read the letter. Read what you just read.

Grandma re-reads the letter starting from the beginning, when she gets to the portion about needing monthly statements if she is still in the living center she puts down the letter and once again states “SEE! They won’t give me my money!” My mom then looks at her and says “What did the stay…that it’s a reminder if you are still in the home…and that you will be reining your checks shortly.”

*pause*

‘OH! HAPPY DAY! I’M GOING TO GET MY MONEY! I’m sorry I called them bastards, they are angels, just the sweetest people ever!”

Then my mom and I left to go buy a grill that doesn’t double as flame thrower. A flame thrower that shoots flames at the person trying to grill.

We get back and I hear from my husband that the entire time we were gone all she did was tell him that she was rich and that they were the best people ever, and she was sorry she called them bastards. (She’s so NOT sorry she called them bastards.)

Allowances

The older child LOVE’s My Little Pony. For Easter I bought them each, the older and the younger one a large stuffed My Little Pony. They each got a pony and a package of Play Dough, considering the ponies were $20 a piece I’d say it was a pretty awesome gift. The older one got an Apple Jack and the younger a Fluttershy. The younger one at that time didn’t really care about ponies, only slightly into them because big sister thinks they are awesome. I bought the younger one the least liked pony of the older one in the hope that this would stop any “I want Fluttershy!” issues.

Hahahahahaha! Nice try mom, but it was a failure none the less. I then spent the next month hearing “You go to the pony store and buy me a Fluttershy.”

Uh. What?

After awhile that started to royally piss me off, like well aren’t you just little miss entitled. This also came after a series of broken toys that ended in “You go to the X store and buy me X toy [I just broke].”

Oh…child, we’re going to learn about money and that you have to work for money to buy things you want.

I started giving her tasks to do to earn quarters. She’s 3 so it’s not like I can send her out to mow the lawn however, that would be awesome if I could. She got tasks of sorting the flatware from the dishwasher. It pays a quarter. Moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer, that also pays a quarter. The best paying job of them all is when I need the little one out of my hair for a bit and then I’ll say “I’ll give you a dollar if you entertain Babes for 30 minutes.” To be honest, I very rarely have to pay out that dollar, she never makes it the full amount of time.

The younger one realized that the older one was getting money, and she also wanted money. Amazingly the younger one is better at staying on task than the older one but is quite limited in their ability of jobs they can actually do. I can get the younger one to transfer laundry quite well, but I have to supervise closely or half the laundry gets dragged across the dirty laundry room floor on the way to the dryer. I figure that’s worth a quarter.

I also started giving them a weekly allowance, it’s a dollar a week. It’s so funny and cute because I will ask them if they want their allowance for the week the little one who does not speak will come running up and stick her hand out. Once she gets the dollar she has to run upstairs and then points and grunts to where her money jar is located. We get the jar down she take it, stuffs her dollar in, then hands the jar back and points back on the shelf. That’s her way of saying “put it back.”

The earning money thing has ended the whole “You go to the store and buy me [insert random item].” Now when I hear that I tell them, i can take you to the store and you can buy it with your own money you earned.” She will stop and think for a minute and then say, “No, I think I want a pony still.” Success!

It’s also had the added benefit of math, because now I have to sit around and explain to them fractions. For some reason money seems to be easier for them to grasp than baking.

Edit:

This earning money thing has also helped in getting the child to understand when mommy has to work at night (since I work at home) and why daddy has to go away each day, “to earn money, so we can afford stuff, like a house.”

A good ol’ fashion-ed rant

I’m highly caffeinated so it seems like a good a time as ever to post a good old rant about something extremely trivial.

You know what I hate.

Plus size clothing.

What a random thing to hate.

I shop those deal sites, like Zulily, daily. It’s window shopping on my phone. Window shopping I actually get to do because I can’t go out and do any parusing at a real store. Not with two small children in tow. Shopping is one part mother hen and the other yelling “Don’t lick that!” at the children. Oh and the random “I gotta go potty,” in the middle of the store with a cart full of that mammoth box store and you just happen to be on the complete opposite side of the store.

Ah, good times.

That leads my looking at clothes to these sites and they tend to have at least one “plus size” feature of the day. Almost every day I look at the section and I think “What women in her right mind would wear that hideous outfit?” It’s like the designers all got together and said “Hey fat girl you need 5,000 yards of fabric to cover those rolls.” I swear theses plus sized cloths look like they look some drapery and just pinned it around and called it good. Large balloon-y outfits with millions of layers don’t make anyone look good, least of all someone with a bit of curves. Unless maybe a wedding gown and I’m still not on board with that trend.

There is way cute stuff out there for every body. Don’t settle for frumpy un-flattering outfits. Unless it’s raining and watching movies on the couch in pajama pants.

Next up on random rants about clothing, bikini’s for little girls. Talk about over sexualizing children, people complain about toys, but yet’s parent’s are cool with putting a small child in overly “sexy” triangle top and string side bottoms? We try and tell our daughters to love and respect themselves but buy clothes that are reminiscent of the 20-something college scene, seems the two are just a wee bit at odds with each other.

Aluminum foil?

I’m an avid Pinterester. There are things on the Pinterest, saving money, living naturally they pop up constantly. One thing that pops up is make you’re own dryer sheets. I always thought they are like a dollar even I’m not cheep enough to make my own. Well…I ran out of dryer sheets. 

Ok…not really. In truth I have a package of 250 buried in storage someplace since the laundry room is still down to studs and all the laundry items still in storage. I really did think that when I kept out one Costco sized box of 250 dryer sheets it would make it until the end of the laundry room remodel. No. I ran out. August will mark one year of dismantling the laundry room, and to be honest it will November before I even bother with getting back to that renovation. 

So, here I am standing in front of my dryer with heaps of laundry in the middle of the night having no desire to go to the store at midnight to pick up dryer sheets. I think there must be some alternative with products in my house that I could use. That’s when I remembered a post I saw. I used a ball of aluminum foil. Well, what the hay. I know I have that in the house and it’s one ingredient. If it totally sucks then I’ll break down and run out to the store at 1 am. 

It worked. In fact it worked so well that one little aluminum foil ball has absolutely zero static when I go to remove laundry. ZERO. No socks stuck to shirts, ever. They are just tumbled and not clingy. I’m amazed…now if I could get that aluminum foil ball to smell like the Bounce I’d be in business. 

P.S. The ball gets smaller and tighter ever load which I find amusing.