Por-rrr favor-rrrrr!

Lately, everything, I mean everything having to do with my mom has been wrong. My sister even had a dream that two old people told her that they would take care of my mom's business because we're such screw-ups. I half expect to get a call from the mortuary saying those aren't my mom's ashes we buried. Really, by the way we've allowed things to happen, you'd have thought that we didn't care. To be honest, I don't really think it matters at this point, but that's not because I didn't care about my mom. I just don't know how people do this.

I think I've mentioned before about the problems we've had getting probate started. The lawyer was supposed to mail us some paperwork and it took some time and several phone calls before that happened. Then, I come to notice that my name is spelled wrong on the paperwork. When I got to the office, I noticed they had my mom's age wrong and my brother's name was spelled wrong on some other paperwork. Good thing my sister only has four letters in her name because one more may have been too much for them. Whatever. The papers are now ready to be filed with the court.

Several weeks ago, we got a call from the cemetary saying that we didn't buy a plaque for my mom. She was buried with her brother and mother so we couldn't get a full headstone, only a plaque. (Hmm...I'm wondering if they were the people in my sister's dream.) We oy -ed about that too but went to the office to pick one out and pay a couple of thousand for it. Today I got a call asking if I ever received the draft. It was supposedly sent two weeks after we met, which would probably be over a month ago. Yeah, right.

Let me tell you about my impression of the cemetary lady. I think she's a drinker. I'm not saying that to be judgemental, I think it's a fact. Some days I noticed that she slurred a lot, others, not so much. So I actually think she forgot. Whatever. I ask my brother to pickup the draft and he notices THAT THE DATE OF MOM'S DEATH IS WRONG. Oh, man, or, as my mother used to say when she was fed up with something: Por-rrr favor-rrrrr! And she'd really, really roll those Rs. Then she'd scratch her head.

Then, out of the blue, I see a weird message from the newspaper dated Wednesday, April 23, 2008 with the title: Re: obituary for publication on Sunday Feb 10, natalie has. It said, "Thank you, we have received your email message." It's actually a duplicate of a message we received in February. Okaaay... My mom never used the Internet when she was alive, do you think heaven has web access and it might be her trying to send us a message? Oh, wait, according to "Bruce Almighty," they do. That being the case, here's a note to mom: I know, por favor. We're working on it. Really. Don't be mad. Love, Your Screwed-up Kids and the crack-team they've assembled.

Kiss and Yell

There are people in my family who do not hold back their feelings. They pretty much say and do whatever they feel compelled to. We love them anyway.

Last week, Joaquin and I had a fight. I do not know what it was about. All I know is that I was late picking him up so I went through what Barb refers to as "the kiss and go" and I refer to as "curbside drop-off." Joaquin saw me and one of the aides brought him to the car. He immediately started the trash-talk. "You're not supposed to pick me up here! You had two minutes, you should have walked over here, etc., etc."

I directed him to put on his seat belt and finally after three times, he put it on and we were off. He continued with the talk, then he made himself cry. I was trying to calm him from the front seat, "Why don't you like me to pick you up there? Okay, I won't pick you up there again, etc." He continued. Finally, I yelled at him to be quiet and turned up the radio to try to drown him out. He kicked the seat. Hard. I yelled again, then my tears started flowing. I don't think he saw me. I was so mad I think I could have beat him.

I had a really hard time talking to him afterward. Part of his punishment was that I took him to Walmart and didn't let him go to the toy section. Also, he now sits opposite me in the back seat. I think I carried this around for days. It's better now, but he keeps asking to move back (he's left handed) but I remind him why he's there. Maybe one day I'll let him move back.

I never did find out why he got so angry. Ivan said he asked what it means when the sidewalk has red on it (the curb), so Ivan thinks it had something to do with the fact that it is a fire lane.
~~*~~
Today was the kind of day people pay money for. Ninety-eight degrees. Slight breeze. Beautiful.

The weekend was just as good. We played goofy golf on Saturday night! It was Jackie's 7th birthday! Dolls! She doll rich, especially Bratz-tastic. Joaquin learned another lesson this week when he asked Jackie, "Is that gonna fit?" When she received a jacket. Under no circumstances ask a woman if something is the right size! Whew!

P.S. I think I've finally forgiven my son.

Mom's Day Annoyance

I was so excited I got a coupon in my credit card bill with $10 off my order from 1-800-Flowers and I was ready to buy some for Mother's Day, but when I got to the site, it said they were not accepting promotional codes at this time.

I know $10 isn't a lot, but it almost pays for the delivery fee. Why put it out there then? In the end, Teleflora.com got my $80 instead of 1-800-flowers, because they had a $10 off promotional offer that they were actually accepting.