Just a BlinkProof Time Flies

I am in the midst of packing for a trip to family camp. I am swimming in camping chairs, bug spray and more kids clothes than I know I’ll ever need but can’t seem to leave behind. The process of leaving is always a chore but a necessary part of the privilege of actually going somewhere.

Long gone are the days of throwing a few things in a backpack, picking up some friends and fluttering off to a campground for a music festival.  Though, Peter would say he has never fluttered off anywhere, you get my drift. The children, I call them that when I distance myself from them, can not be crammed in a backpack and tossed in the car. Trust me, I’ve tried.

I was feeling so proud of myself that I didn’t tell Ryan about Family Camp until today (I usually can’t keep a happy thing to myself for long). I have learned however that anticipation for a happy thing just kills Ryan. He can’t stand the joy I guess. He gets moody and whiny to say the least.

He was way too out-of-sorts today! Maybe something to do with staying up at friends house last night to watch the Olympics until 10:30! That’s my fault, yes, I know. So on to why this post is called Camily Famp.

I scolded him with all that was in my special forces inspired Mama Arsenal. But alas, I broke down and just started saying cliche parenting comments.

Me: You know Family Camp is a treat so start acting like it! (What that even means I’m not sure.)

Ryan: Camily Famp is NOT a treat! That’s icky it would taste like dirt. You don’t eat Camily Famp!

Me: Bust out laughing. (How could I resist?)

The tension broke and on he went helping me pack up his back pack with his CARS flashlight, sunscreen and Blue (his blanket).

So off we go to Camily Famp to bond together at the end of this glorious season, summer.

Ryan and Molly are sitting on a rock that is situated at the end of our townhome neighborhood’s property. This small boulder has become a highlight of our evening walking route.

Little do they know that the rest of the neighborhood calls it Poop Rock because all of the dogs in the area gravitate to it for their daily constitutionals.

My kids are putting themselves through spy training or at very least self-awareness training.

As a baby and toddler Ry slept with one or both of his eyes slightly open (which is a little weird to see mind you).  I always joked that he’d grow up to be a lookout in a cowboy bandit gang. Well, his sleeping quirk added with a love for guns, beards and the expression eehh-haw all led to my believe I guess.

Bottom line: He is very light concise and has to sleep in the dark. (Thanks Phil for our room-darkening shade!).

Molly has super sonic hearing. She sleeps with her ears on full alert. Since she has quirky hearing we have never been able to sneak into her room to watch her sleep and give her one last sweet tuck-in before we head to bed ourselves. I don’t even think I have ever seen her sleeping except for in the car seat. She will stir in her crib if you even so-much-as think about her in your head.

Good defense reflex for her. Bad bonding deal for us.

Spies? Agents? Soldiers? Maybe. But for now it is so nice to know they are under my roof recharging their little bodies for the next day.

All too soon I know we will be waiting up for them to come home in time for curfew and praying they stay in their rooms all night long, alone. Till then I dream of their futures and pray for their childhood quirks to turn into grown-up character traits like a heart for justice and a spirit of discernment.

Self checkout lanes, automated voice teleprompts and ATMs alike are very transparent in their purpose.

Less labor force = More income

I am not outraged at companies creating income. Capitalism and “Big” anything don’t annoy me. What annoys me is the automated processes themselves. Now, I have come to except and use ATMs without hassle. I have used the self-checkouts a number of times, each time with a less-than-seamless experience. I have used automated voice teleprompts more times than I would have ever wanted.

Here is how a recent phone call to our unnamed health insurance company unraveled:

Automated “Employee” (AE): Hi and Thank you for calling So-and-So insurance company and affiliates.  Please say your subscriber ID.

Me: Blah-XYZ-Blah-123 (with eye roll). <I just found out that companies have you enter this information just to make you feel like you are making progress during the wait time and to ensure that you have your information at hand for them later. Ever wonder why they ask you for you information AGAIN when a real human picks up the line? The first time does absolutely nothing.>

AE: Are you calling about mental health or substance abuse?

Me: (nothing said here) I am still waiting for a number to push for yes or no

AE: I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.

Me: No. Followed by a short pause. No No! Molly get out of the dishwasher!

AE: Please try again. Are you calling about mental health or substance abuse? Please say yes or no.

Me: No. Followed by a shorter pause. M-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-M (the extra long version of Mom) did you see my trick, I can fly like an airplane!

AE: Please respond with a Yes or No so I can fully understand your response.

Me: No. Immediately followed by a Whiinnnnne from Molly for graham crackers and me saying “Just I second I’m almost done”.

AE: I am sorry please call back. I am not able to understand you at this time. click…

Hey, I can see user error all over this story but whatever happened to customer service? I miss customer service. I tried the call again and was put on hold for 10 minutes 56 seconds. Of course I had to tell her my subscriber ID again! No big deal though, she said if I log on to So-and-So insurance company’s website I could find the answer to my question. Oye!