May 11th, 2010

phone calls and fecal matter

It's been the week of phone calls (and email). A call from Minute Women with a referral, and then a second call, and waiting for a call, then getting a message, then finally calling myself in a specified window. Success! We have backup child care for when B. will be gone around her wedding day. That may not seem exciting to anyone else, but it's very exciting for us. Especially since if this is at all successful, we've got a method for more of the same.

Another phone call was to K., who remodeled my kitchen and both bathrooms in my condo. There are a few things that need taking care of. Unfortunately, K. has had some health issues in the time I've been out of contact with him. That was sad, but we talked for a little while and he referred me to his nephew, who called me back very promptly. The nephew even said he'd have a referral for the carpet, which of course he does not do.

An e-mail was to Gentle Giant, so I can arrange to have them move the stuff I left on the other coast to finally have it catch up with me; I'm still waiting for a phone call from them.

Other than a meeting at the preschool (regular monthly one, about three weeks later after multiple reschedules on their side, not mine), the biggest excitement around here involved P., a cute little dog belonging to my walking partner's family. Unfortunately, the hair around her butt had gotten quite long and Problems Had Developed. So for the second time, I had P. up in my kitchen sink with the sprayer pointed at her butt while I attempted to remove a truly disturbing amount of stuck poop. I decided that hinting wasn't going to get the job done (I'd encouraged human parent to bring the dog over so R. could show M. how to use the dog trimmer he had recently bought since he's done a patchy job and nothing at all around P.'s butt; and I'd previously had to remove a bunch of poop a few weeks ago) and told my walking partner in some detail that this was neglect and suggested a strategy for making sure it didn't happen again. My walking partner told her mother, N., who was mortified, but I am now optimistic that the problem will not recur. R. (husband) has a new hair trimmer on order because B. used his to trim the offending hairs after I removed stuck fecal matter. Obviously, R. didn't want to use that trimmer again on himself or the kids.

P. may be constipated. I wouldn't be surprised. If I had that kind of crap (literally) stuck to my butt, I'd avoid pooping, too. But N. is apparently aware of the problem and monitoring it, and they are trying to get the dog to eat turkey and rice, which should help.

Oh, and I cooked today, something other than waffles or blondies. I had chicken cacciatore for dinner. Yummy. The usual routines (walking with M., taking the kids to Julie's Place for waffles, going to the grocery store with T., etc.) continue. Today in line at the grocery store, the woman understood T. when he said "put bag in the cart". I was shocked and commented on it; she said she'd worked with handicapped kids before.