We’ve been busy getting ready for Christmas - Mike had another trip to Pinehurst to visit his mother and father and to make sure his dad had a lot of support, and Lily and I stayed here and worked on Christmas cards, cleaning the house, and just generally catching up on all the things we let slide during contractor hell week. Speaking of, the Pergo still isn’t done - but when I finally catch up with Pergo Man, it will hopefully be finished by the end of the week.

Lily is not walking yet, but desperately wants to. As I started writing this, she tried to take some steps toward her “mailbox” and fell flat on her face. I spent the last 5 minutes comforting her about that “bad old floor” getting her on the face. She’s totally fine and is now destroying my briefcase by pulling everything out of it. I went to a meeting last week, went to pull out a file, and ended up pulling out a plastic ball instead. It was pretty funny.

Mom and dad leave for Texas tomorrow and as usual the chaos of getting ready for a big trip is driving them nuts. I’m heading over there this afternoon to drop off Christmas presents, say goodbye, and find some missing files on their computer.

Not much to report - other than Mike’s mother’s illness and keeping up with that, we really haven’t done much of anything else. We feel fortunate to have the house together for Christmas and the decorations hung. It’s just a relief to have things starting to come together. I thought I was losing my mind for a while there. Now, if I can just get caught up on work . . . ha! Two weeks without “Gramma Day Care”. Not much chance of that happening.
 

We’re back from the doctor - this time, we finally got our 1 year check up for Lily, plus three shots and a toe stick to test her iron levels. Her iron is still low, so we’re putting her on iron drops and hoping it doesn’t rot her teeth in the meantime. She’s mostly over the flu, but still not eating the way she used to. She dropped more weight. She’s in the whoppin’ 5th percentile - I knew Lily would be petite, but I was hoping she wouldn’t be quite this petite. I’m still holding out hope that she will go through some major growth spurts. I just keep having flash backs of being thrown in lockers in junior high (when I say “in”, I literally mean “in”, not “into”). And let’s face it - if you have size 5 or 5.5 shoes, good luck finding anything fashionable.

So, Lily is up to date on her immunizations and I’m still sweltering down here in contractor hell. Mullet Boy is still here - the Mystery Machine he drives broke down over the weekend, preventing his cell phone from working (apparently) as well as finishing the job. His mystery machine is much scarier than this one - it’s primer gray and someone has vandalized it by painting graffiti all over it. My neighbors all hate me - between the mystery machine permanently parked in my driveway, and Pergo Man’s souped up 1986 Cutlass Supreme complete with naked woman mud flaps, we are not the favorites of the neighborhood.

Pergo Man comes tomorrow, barring the unforeseen, which I’m sure will happen. If he does show up, as well as the Pergo, then maybe we’ll get the toilet off the back steps in the garage and the sewer hole will be covered with it. And we’ll have no more bare floor. That would be a miracle, but I’m still optimistic . . . even after all that has happened. Call me crazy . . .

I know that for the rest of you out there, the words “contractor” and “hell” go hand in hand already. However, for me, the eternal optimist, the one who is always expecting to be pleasantly surprised by human nature, I refused to buy into this stereotype. Until now. Suddenly I have turned into a shrill housewifey wench, the image made complete by suburban address, dog, and child. Oh yeah, and the Volvo. But enough about me, or us. This is about the contractors.

Where to begin? Well, first, I can begin by saying that Mike’s mom’s diagnosis was confirmed and now the whole family can move forward, more knowledgeable about everything. It doesn’t make things peachy keen, but at least we all know what we are dealing with.

Lily - Day 5 of being sick with a “cold”. Why our pediatrician didn’t do a nasal swab for the flu on Monday, I do not know. Mike and I finally tired of being told we are paranoid first time parents, so we just called the doctor again and said that something was not right. Her fever was still high (Mike misheard me and told them she had a 107 degree fever - when he meant 101.7 - you can imagine the reaction the nurse had). He told us to take her to the ER at St. Mary’s. We had a great ER peds doc there and he quickly diagnosed the flu. Thankfully, no “pee-new-monia” as he said. I guess there is a major outbreak happening in Richmond right now - she was the 4th child this morning diagnosed with the flu. We took her home and tried to get her as much rest as possible with all the CONTRACTORS here. She was doing a little better tonight - she actually played and smiled a couple of times. Not seeing her smile since Saturday has been really hard, not to mention seeing her so listless and obviously feeling terribly . . .

However, this was her last Sunday on her birthday - so cute!

So back to the rest of the story. We’ve been having troubles, to put it mildly, with our home renovation project, which entails adding french doors to my office, ripping up and replacing all the carpet, and putting Pergo down in the kitchen and half bath. So we are smart and we hire “professionals”. First the french door dude (a subcontractor from Lowe’s) shows up and he sounds exactly like Roscoe Pecoe from Dukes of Hazzard. He looks exactly like Boss Hawg from same. He even showed up wearing camouflage suspenders and I saw plenty of crack while he was here, and I’m not talking about the drug. His “2 hour job” took 2.5 days. It’s still not right. In fact, as I sit here writing, I hear Mike on Eternal Lowes Hold for Amber, the door woman who took the order in the first place.

So the carpet comes in, and Mr. Carpet Dude (who, by the way, has the BIGGEST mullet I’ve ever seen) begins to lay the carpet on Monday. If you don’t know what a mullet is, you can check out here. 
Anyway, so he’s got a mullet, big deal. He can lay carpet, right? He shows up with his girlfriend, who is missing most of her teeth, and a 20 year old kid they refer to as “Q” (which always made me think of that weirdo on Star Trek, and the fact that I associate him with it proves I am a huge geek myself). Many problems begin, including, but not limited to:

- constant talking, even when I close my office doors. They continue to bust through them anyway
- critiquing the french door install, while Boss Hawg is still here doing it
- smoking insane amounts of cigarettes in my garage, to the point I’d swear they were doing it in the house, it smelled so bad
- toothless girlfriend picks up every knick knack I own and comments on it, including spraying my linen spray all over the hallway because she wants to see what it smells like
- mullet boy tells me every legal altercation he’s had in the past 5 years, including the fabulous information that he currently has no driver’s or business license

At this point, you might be wondering how I ended up with such professionals. I will tell you - the buying club we belong to recommended them, so I take no responsibility.

After being thoroughly annoyed by the mullet carpet crew, they tell me at the end of the day that I have defective carpet. Mullet Boy gets on the phone with the buying club and cusses out a girl who works there, who happens to be very nice. She hangs up on him. This means that my carpet can’t be finished and they leave with tack strips everywhere and our house torn apart. It wasn’t really their fault, but it was less than ideal.

Meanwhile, Pergo Man starts laying the floor. He and Mullet Boy had originally formed a partnership, but had since had a falling out, and currently hate each other. They begin to argue almost immediately. Mullet Boy wants to steal the quarter round part of the job from him - Pergo Man gets mad. I find out that I was shorted 84 feet (!!!!) of quarter round and start calling around again to find it. Then I find out two cartons of Pergo have been destroyed by some angry UPS driver. I call around again. Mullet Boy blows out our circuit breakers 6 different times by trying to run some huge buzzsaw thing in our garage. He blows out a lightbulb that we spent 3 months trying to replace (don’t even ask about that story). Pergo Man spends a lot of time talking and little time laying the floor. He also magically raises his rate per square foot, but I become the Shrill Suburban Beeeoootch and he reverts to Originally Quoted Price. Pergo Man, you guessed it, does not finish, and comes back today to finish the job.

Both Mullet Boy and Pergo Man were supposed to be here at 8 AM. We take Lily to the ER around 9. They are still not here. When we return at noon, exhausted and stressed out, we find our house much in the same condition as it was when we left. MB (Mullet Boy) and PM (Pergo Man) are barely civil to eachother. PM wants to use MB’s saw - MB refuses. PM has brought a friend along to help, who is coughing up a lung. Meanwhile, MB’s toothless girlfriend is wandering around our house. Actually, a better adjective would be “staggering”. She is moaning with each step “MMMM. OOOOOOOOH. AAAAAAAA.” I try asking her if she is okay, and she just smiles and continues to moan. I ask MB what’s up with his woman, and he tells me she’s just sick with the flu. She then nearly does a swan dive down our (uncarpeted) stairs. Mike loses it and tells everyone who is sick to get the hell out of our house. This was right after Toothless Girlfriend tries to touch Lily. Lung Hacker and Toothless Girlfriend are removed from the house - Mike tells Lung to go sit in the car for the rest of the day and he tells MB to take Toothless home where she belongs. As soon as they leave, I begin to freak out, because I have just about had it. It was apparent to all of us, including my father, who held the fort down while we were at the ER, that Toothless is on some major drugs. So I have a wacked out druggy wandering around the house while my daughter is sick with the flu and I start wondering how much jewelry has been taken while I was gone.

Turns out, as MB tells me later, Toothless took too much anti-anxiety meds (like 5 times her normal dosage) and was totally out of it. Gee, that makes it all better. PM runs out of Pergo and tells me that although I measured correctly, I should have known to add 10% overage to my order (duh, stupid me!). I then spend an hour faxing back and forth to a local company trying to get them to charge my credit card over the phone after jamming my scanner with it unsuccessfully trying to copy it. Then Q (the helper, not the Star Trek guy) has his unemployed 24 year old girlfriend call me to discuss home based internet businesses because somehow he got the idea that I had one, and that it was okay to give out my phone number. You can imagine the tone I had with her.

Closing time for MB - carpet is still not laid. There is a bare strip of wood in our bedroom and carpet fragments everywhere. It’s 4 PM - time for beer. So he splits, but not before asking me for over $1000, the total amount we owe him, right then. I tell him he’s not getting it before the job is finished, but that I’ll pay him a percentage. He then tells me he’s taking 20% of PM’s job cost because he “referred” PM to me. PM gets really angry and they get up in each other’s faces and start yelling at each other in my kitchen, while I’m feeding the baby, about who is right and who is wrong. I start dreaming that Mike is with me, or better yet, that I am in the Bahamas with no one I know. I finally snap back to reality and tell them to shut up, and give me an itemized list of who is getting what. I pay MB what I said I’d pay him and he leaves. PM gets upset because he wants to lay the quarter round and thresholds, and he’s mad at MB because he “stole” that part of his job from him. He wants me to call MB and tell him I want PM to lay it. WHATEVER. Then he gets into an intricate discussion with us (Mike is home by now) about what a “T connection” is and how it works. We really could not have cared less. They continue laying Pergo until 7.30, at which point Mike and I are almost passing out because we couldn’t cook dinner with them in there (oh yeah, Lung Hacker is back in the house).

SO. The end of the story: we are waiting on our carpet, the rest of the Pergo, and for Boss Hawg to come back out and clean up the mess he made of the french doors. Just put me in the nuthouse. We haven’t even started decorating for Christmas and right now I’d rather just crawl in a hole. I know this will be funny soon - in fact, it’s almost funny now - but I seriously lost it today a couple of times. When PM and MB came back to me for about the 7th time today to tell me “Girl, you’re going to seriously flip out NOW” (this time to tell me we ran out of Pergo), I just said “Quit explaining it to me and tell me what I have to do to fix it.” Quite rude.

Mike says we are never buying a house that requires this level of renovation again. I think I agree. Either that, or I’m going to hire a project manager to oversee renovations because I just can’t hack it with a 1 year old under my care, especially one with influenza.

I’d love to hear your contractor horror stories if you have any. You can e-mail them to me at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address). In the meantime, I’ll be here - overseeing - until the day I am rich.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention two things.

1. PM prematurely removed the toilet, thinking he’d finish the half bath today. He ran out of Pergo, so now we have a pit in the middle of our bathroom. Anyone want to squat???

2. Lily got massive diarrhea from the antiobiotics today - prescribed erroneously by Peds Doc #1. She blew out her diaper and jetted out a stream of the stuff, then proceeded to roll around in it. She soaked her sheets and mattress pad. I ripped it off the bed and tried to throw it in the laundry, only to find that Mullet Boy had left the carpet uncut by the laundry room door and it was impossible to gain entrance to it. I had temper tantrum number 3 at that point, including cussing the laundry room door and Lily’s “ineffective” diaper.

It’s been a few days since I last updated the blog . . . that’s the way it goes when your child is sick, no one is sleeping, and there are workmen all over your house making a lot of noise and bringing new and interesting problems to your attention every 10 minutes. Today’s ordeal is figuring out how to get the pantry doors to fit over the Pergo. I feel like borrowing a chainsaw and solving THAT problem quickly.

We’re still in a waiting/holding pattern on Mike’s mom, which is driving everyone nuts, most especially Susan herself. One of my issues with healthcare and test results is how damn long they make you wait for results, especially when it’s a major issue. I remember waiting 2 days to find out of the fetus was viable (who later became Lily) and how no 48 hours ever seemed so long. And compared to Susan, waiting to find out if a pregnancy is viable is no big deal in the larger scheme of things.

Both Mike and I feel terribly about Lily - four days straight of seeing her not playing and only wanting to be held listlessly in arms is really depressing. She’s never been this sick - two doctor’s visits later we have an antibiotic which seems to be helping. My parents are both sick, too. After that Thanksgiving hell week, it seems to be bleeding over into the Thanksgiving Kick Off of Two Weeks of Hell. It will be over soon - I keep telling myself that. Last night we took turns sleeping on the futon with Lily because she doesn’t seem to be able to sleep in her crib. I think she has trouble breathing.

In the meantime I’m supposed to be figuring out dates and locations for my father’s 80th birthday in August. Seems like a long way away, but not when you are going to vacation land (Northern Michigan) for a family reunion. I’ve probably already missed the boat on plenty of reservations.

This weekend is the annual Hayes Hitzeman Foundation Silent Auction - once that is over, things will begin to calm down a bit. I’ve been putting in a lot of hours trying to help Kyra get things together. I finally sucked it up and bought a dress on Sunday - it’s nothing special but it fits, and that was a major undertaking, trying to find something that fits my oddly shaped body. Now I just have to find shoes. Jennifer found an absolutely gorgeous (and very expensive) dress, but she looked fabulous. If I had found a dress that made me look like that, I’d buy it too - and wear it everywhere.

There’s not much new to report. The doors are in on my office, which is a step in the right direction. They need to be painted, but at least now I have a physical separation between my work space and my home space. It helps, at the end of the evening, to pull the doors shut and firmly say “I am done working”. It also helps me keep Lily confined to an area where she can’t hurt herself or do any damage

Do you ever feel like you need to go to bed for about 1 week? That’s me today - and probably the majority of my family as well. I actually have a sense of humor about Thanksgiving now. If I wasn’t laughing, I’d be crying, so I choose to just laugh about it.

I think I skipped the part about Beth bowling on Wednesday - she forgot to release the ball and went down after it, fracturing her shoulder. Vicki got the flu Thursday and was laid up. We had a good Thanksgiving dinner - everything tasted good. Mike called his father that evening after dinner and we got the major shock that his mother was in ICU - which has caused some major family trauma. I can’t go into it but needless to say it is a major deal. Things are looking better now, but it has been very hard on Mike and everyone else. It also puts things into perspective about life and just what is worth getting hyper about.

I went to my parents with Lily and stayed until Steve and Vicki left - we took Kaitlyn to see a very bad “Cat In The Hat”. Even Mike Myers couldn’t save the film. They left Saturday morning, just in time for dad and mom to come down with either the flu or some respiratory crap. I’ve been coughing for three weeks anyway so I’m used to this. Lily refused to eat dinner last night, so as I’m carrying her up the stairs to go to bed, I lean in to kiss her and she projectile vomits into my mouth and all over my clothing. Ah, a mother’s love. She had a very high fever and was up most of the night just whimpering - it was so pitiful. She’s still really out of it today and all of us are exhausted and beyond stress or upset. Hence the comment about wanting to go to bed for a week.

My mother took care of Lily this morning when she got up so I was able to go back to sleep, and now Mike is home, just sitting with Lily and trying to comfort her. Hopefully the Tylenol we gave her will help break her fever and she will feel better, but it was just the topper to a bizarre week in our lives. This Thanksgiving rivals the one we spent in Laguna Beach where everyone got stomach flu, Frank broke his arm playing basketball, and Risa had to take care of everyone, including her two kids. I’m sure she felt much like I do today. Calgon, take me away.

Mike may end up back in Pinehurst this week, but we don’t know right now. It’s the first Thanksgiving since we’ve been together that we haven’t put the tree up, so I’m feeling very unfestive and down. I think some sleep will help that, and also getting the dress shopping for the silent auction next weekend out of the way this afternoon. How someone can dread shopping as much as I do, I will never know. I think I remember two periods in my life where I enjoyed shopping for clothes (both of those times I weighed between 98 and 105 pounds). Again, let’s put it all in perspective. So I’m not going to look like a Hollywood movie star this year. What’s new, and it’s not the end of the world. I have a 1 year old to show for my weight gain - that should be worth it.