The Eye of a Needle Would Be Easier Than This

I have so much to do this morning, in a very short space of time. But I always have to time vent, it seems.

Today, I feel like my children are ungrateful and spoiled. Entitled and inflexible. Lazy and negative. Nay-sayers and buzz-kills. Nasty, brutish and short.

I'll be honest: when I am working hard to provide them with opportunities, relaxation and inspiration, and I am met with sour faces, complaints and resistance, I get extremely pissed off.

But what's the right response here? Yelling is definitely a fall back position; I'm pretty good at the indignant, guilt-inducing tirade. Unfortunately, I am the adult in this situation, and it's my job to guide them through the day, hopefully feeling good about themselves and having learned a thing or two.

I do want them to feel good about themselves; I want those positive feelings to come from having played and worked hard, helped their family, cooperated with mum, and experienced what it's like to engage the world positively.

It's all I can do to keep myself from screaming at them. Well-placed yelling is just that: well-placed and deserving. But I'm teetering back and forth between patience and righteous indignation.

We are off to a homeschooling science class this morning, after I (with their extremely reluctant help) finish cleaning up our Sonoma home-away-from-home so my folks come home from their trip to Ireland and find their house nearly as they left it. They will fight me on nearly everything I will ask them to do in the next two hours.

How will I respond?

* * *

I am not a happier Californian.

Chase Bank took over WaMu, and screwed up my life.

We own a small business; I go to the bank frequently. We've also got the five small children; they come with me everywhere.

So the kids are quite familiar with the refrain: "I have to stop at the bank," and they moan and groan, but WaMu used to be an easy place to stop with the kids. So many things have changed since Chase took over that what used to be an easy errand now amounts to a trip to hell. Here are the stupid things Chase has done that make my day more difficult:

• Took out the kid area of my local branch, which had books, toys, a kids' table and chairs set, and a couple of small video games. Replaced it with (yawn) a boring chair.


• Removed their deposit drop box -- so now I have to actually stand in line.


• Removed the Express Line -- so now I have to stand in a longer line.


• Reduced the amount of time the Business Line is open -- so I can't rely on being able to use this line anymore either.

Other things about Chase Bank that I hate:

(1) They have a new policy where they hold all non-Chase bank deposits until the next banking day. Annoying. For a small business like ours, this just is another hassle we don't need.

(2) The other night I went online and transferred money into my home account, knowing that I needed to in order to cover some checks and debit card expenses that were going to clear. Used to be, with WaMu, I could do this fairly late into the evening and the money (MY money, going from one Chase account to another Chase account) would go in immediately. I've done this many times with WaMu, and it did not occur to me that this would change with Chase. Well, change it did; the money didn't transfer until the next day, and FIVE of my checks/debits hit my account, and Chase assessed me FIVE $33 overdraft charges.

I complained. I got the following response: "In response to your inquiry, I have absorbed the fees assessed to your account in the amount of $70.00 as a one time courtesy. Your account will not be eligible for another courtesy until after 11/06/2010."

This makes it sound like Chase is some benevelont force granting me a merciful kindness, and I better not be insolent enough to ask for something again for a good long time. I feel like Oliver Twist.

(3) I sent a request for a check number, since my bank statement for some reason shows several checks with the same number: 99. I've noticed this for awhile, with WaMu too, and assumed there was some system glitch responsible. So now, I need a check number from a check that cleared in June of 2009. The online system doesn't go back farther than 90 days and I can't get the number from my bank statement. And Chase wants to charge me $5 to give it to me. MY check. MY account. MY information. I decided I don't need the check number that badly.

So it seems that I now have a Fee For Everything Bank.

Since taking over WaMu, Chase has launched a billboard campaign here in California. One of their local signs says: "Longer hours. More locations. Happier Californians."

You know what Chase? The hours at my bank haven't changed...I don't see more branches...and I am definitely not a happier Californian since your arrival in my life.

* * *

It Will Only Take Me 10 Minutes to Strangle You

A friend of mine with four small children told me about a conversation she had once with her mother-in-law. MIL was trying to "encourage" her to add some small task to her daily routine. I can't remember what the task was, but it was some kind of chore that MIL thought would improve my friend's overall attitude about her house and her chaotic life with little 'uns. In an attempt to convince her just how simple it would be to add this "to-do item" to her day, MIL said: "It'll take you 10 minutes; that's it!"

When she told me about it, I had the same sinking feeling she did upon receiving this advice: If you only knew just how many 10 minute jobs I have in a given day, you would choke yourself on those words before speaking them in my presence.

It's the kind of advice that makes me want to throttle the person giving it, the kind that makes me want to say: "You don't have a freakin' clue what you are talking about, so shut your pie hole and leave me alone."

And people don't. Have a clue, I mean. I don't have a clue what your life is like, you don't have a clue about mine...no one really knows anything about us if we don't tell them, right?

So to answer the MIL's of the world, and other well-intentioned but clueless folks, here is a list of 10-minute jobs that make up my day:

1. Get little people up and out of bed. Should take 10 minutes, always takes longer.


2. Get little people dressed. Should take 10 minutes, always takes longer.


3. Make school lunches. Whether you do this in the morning or the night before, it still must be done. Could take 10 minutes, usually takes longer.


4. Change diapers. One at a time, 3-5 times a day.


5. Wrestle toddler into car seat. Seriously can take up to 10 minutes, between playfully convincing her that it's her idea to get in her seat, warning her with consequences if she does not cooperate, imposing said consequences, and then giving in to the inevitable sweat-inducing, muscle-wrenching contortions it takes to get the completely stiffened body of a determined 2-year old to bend enough to get the almighty 5-point harness car seat fastened, while dodging her attempts to pull my hair, scratch my forearms, bite my fingers, and whack me in the face. Need to go more out more than once in a day? This little dance will happen each and every time she needs to be strapped in.


6. Troubleshoot technology issues. Daily. Usually longer than 10 minutes, but let's call it 10.


7. Print out coloring pages to occupy the children. So you can get more stuff done. Ha!


8. Make beds.


9. Return phone calls. Usually longer than 10 minutes. Say 20.


10. Apply bandaids, ice packs, and/or healing kisses to run-of-the-mill little people injuries.


11. Straighten up the living room.


12. Tidy up the bathroom.


13. Negotiate a peace agreement between warring toddler factions that have come to the very precipice of war over who had the Hello Kitty Driving A Car figure first. This could take 2 minutes: Give me the damn toy and retreat to your own damn corners and that's the end of that! Of course, that adds 30 minutes of tantrum and terror. So to really keep the job to 10 minutes, one must creatively, peacefully, take this time to have a "teachable moment" with one's children and show them how to resolve conflict in a way that honors all and promotes general well-being and ensures they do not become criminals when they grow up.


14. That one above? Happens 4-6 times a day.


15. Do laundry load #1. Transfer washer load to dryer load, start new washer load, fold freshly dry clothes, put them away.


16. Do laundry load #2. Repeat all of the above.


17. Pay bills online OR maybe buy a birthday present for a family member or friend online. Longer than 10 minutes, unless I know exactly what I'm looking for (which today, I did! 10 minutes to buy 3 birthday presents! Go me!).


18. Check homework.


19. Check backpacks, respond to whatever request has come home from school that day -- permission slip, donation request, library book notice.


20. Look for library books.


21. Return emails. If you actually want to return them thoughtfully, minimum 20 minutes.

21 10-minute jobs = 3 hours and 30 minutes. Round up to 4 hours to account for all the "should but don't" categories above.

Minimum 30 minute jobs:

• Make breakfast. Feed the masses.


• Round trip to school drop off.


• Make lunch. Feed the masses.


• Round trip to school pick up.


• Make dinner.


• Eat dinner with the family, just like June and Ward Cleaver.

6 30-minutes jobs = 3 hours

Big Time Sucks:

• Grocery shopping, or any other errand needing to be done.


• Cleaning up after meals. Probably 1.5-2 hours total for the day.

2 Big Time Sucks = 3 hours

10 hours later:
Have I read a book to the children yet?
Have I sat on the floor and played with them at all?
Have I talked to a friend, or to any of the people I really owe a phone call to?
Have I caught up with my neighbor, whose wife is in the hospital?
Have I read a book myself?
Have I watched The Colbert Report?
Have I heard anything at all about what is going on in the world? (Actually, I probably have, as NPR is the soundtrack to my day, but have I read a newspaper? Hell, no!)
Have I kept track of my kids online activities, talked about the bully at school today, tickled anyone, taken a shower, sorted through clothes to give to Goodwill, set aside the sport uniforms or had a cup of tea?
Have I done one iota of work for the jobs that actually pay the bills?

So, if you've got any advice on how to make my day go more smoothly, thank you. I'll pencil that in right after Task #57: Strangle anyone who gives advice.

***

ps. I know I am ranting. We do that sometimes.