Out of Karma Comes a Wii
Yesterday, I was able to obtain a PS3. This morning, my husband called me and told me that someone he works with knows a friend who wanted to buy it, someone who wanted it for themselves, not to resell it. We sold it for what we paid for it, nothing more. We both felt good that we were able to make someone’s Christmas a little happier.
(Edited to add that the PS3 buyer backed out. My husband thinks that he thought it was too good to be true that we were selling it for what we paid for it, and figured there must be something wrong with it.)
After I got off the phone, I couldn’t help but start thinking about how nice it would be if I could get my hands on a Wii. When I was little there was this Christmas where I really wanted a computer. My sister and I opened all of our presents and there was no computer there. I was thrilled with everything else I got, but I was a little disappointed. I was determined not to let my parents know that though. Then my Dad asked me if it was a good Christmas and if I got everything I wanted. I told him it was a great Christmas, and that the only thing that would have made it better was if we got a computer. But I told him I was o.k. with not getting it.
A couple minutes later, he walked into the living room with a huge box and my sister and I knew we had our computer. It was SO EXCITING! I’ll never forget that Christmas. I wanted to do that for Big I this year so badly. Big I has had a lot of surprises over the past year, like how a baby sister completely changes your life for one. She’s a really good kid and I really wanted to get her a Wii.
I thought about completely giving up last night, and then this morning I decided I couldn’t possibly give up yet. I’m the eternal optimist I guess. It became bigger than the Wii for me. It’s a competition and for anyone who knows me or has read this blog regularly, you know that I must ALWAYS WIN! Losing is not an option. Failure is not an option.
So, I had my husband call Walmart and ask when their FedEx shipment was coming. It was around 11 this morning. He called me back and said that FedEx had arrived with a huge shipment and that they were going through it, and if I wanted a shot at a Wii I should arrive around noon.
I waited in the car for Big I to get off the bus and zoomed off to Walmart. With Lil C in my arm and Big I struggling to keep up, we practically ran to the electronics department. There were boxes everywhere.
"Did you get any Wii’s?" I asked with hopeful anticipation.
"No," the guy said.
I was crushed. My husband and I had both had a good feeling and it was gone. "Oh well," I thought. "Let’s go get some more Tylenol for Lil C" I said. (She is getting four molars at a time I swear.) So, we picked up the Tylenol and something told me to walk by the electronics department again. One of the workers there stopped me and quietly asked me if I had about 10 more minutes of shopping to do, and I said that I could certainly find 10 more minutes of shopping to do. I hung around the electronics department like a stalker.
At 12:30, the employee told me to meet her in Lay-Away and I BOUGHT A WII!!!!!
She triple-bagged it for me to avoid any problems exiting with a Wii and two kids. I told her that she restored my faith in humanity. She laughed. I wished her a Merry Christmas and left smiling, but not too big. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
As we were leaving, Big I said, "I saw that you bought something. Is that my ‘wideogame’?"
And like any good mother would do, I said, "What? What videogame? No, honey. I’m so sorry. This is the CD player I’ve been trying to buy for your uncle. He wants this so badly and they were sold out everywhere. Isn’t it exciting that we’ll be able to give this to your uncle and make him so happy? Maybe we’ll be able to get you that videogame for your birthday."
She agreed that it was going to be exciting to give the "CD player" to her uncle.
Was there ever a better example of what goes around comes around? I can’t wait until Christmas!!! Good luck to those still searching!
A Mother’s Mission to Find a Wii
10 a.m.: Despite barely having a voice because I am still sick, I call Toys R Us, Target and Walmart. Walmart tells me that their FedEx guy comes at 1 pm and that it’s possible they could get some Wii consoles.
12-12:30 p.m.: Rush to get lunch made and eaten. Load a 5-year old and a 14-month old into the car along with my sick self to get to Walmart by 1.
12:50 p.m.: Arrive in Walmart’s electronics department and ask about the Wii. I sense a bit of amusement on the face of this lanky kid and I consider smacking him around. He then says, "We got two. They’re already gone." I confirm that they won’t be getting any other shipments. Then I seek out the manager who I’ve talked to before and ask her about why she told me 1 when they came in earlier. Apparently it’s between 11-1. Gee, thanks for telling me NOW. I consider telling her what kind of effort it takes to get two little people and a sick mama out the door and into a store, but decide not to waste anymore of my time.
1:00 p.m.: Leave Walmart, run miscellaneous errands and then head across town. I drive by Best Buy and decide that is hopeless.
2:00 p.m.: Arrive at Circuit City. The guy doesn’t even make eye contact with me when I ask. I know they’re sick of hearing the question, but I am just as sick of asking it and would appreciate some acknowledgment that I exist and matter somewhat. Eye contact and a lack of mumbling would be appreciated. I sneeze in his direction and leave. A Christmas cold for you-bah humbug!
2:10 p.m.: It occurs to me that there’s another Walmart in the area.
2:20 p.m.: Confirm with yet another person who has the personality of a brick that they received no Wii’s.
2:30 p.m.: Because I am a glutton for punishment, I decide that I’ll check in at the Gamestop next to Walmart. Maybe, just maybe they’ll sell me their floor model or something (or not). I ask about the Wii, and they say "No, but we have two PS3’s and they’re the 60 GB ones." I almost fall over in the store. PS3’s??? Unbelievable. I try to call my husband to see if he wants one or knows anyone who does. He doesn’t answer his phone.
2:40 p.m.: I am getting on the highway and Mr. BBM calls me. "Go get it," he says.
2:50 p.m.: Arrive back at Gamestop and purchase the PS3. I then say to the guy who rang me up, "And here’s the part where the lady with a PS3 and two kids gets attacked in the parking lot." He decided to walk me to my car. How nice was that?
3:00-present time: Relish in the fact that I have a PS3 and an ebayer doesn’t.
Do you think someone would trade me for a Wii and the difference? How ridiculous that I could walk in and get a PS3, but not a Wii?
And how ridiculous is it that I still haven’t given up?
Update on BBM’s Dad: He is STILL in the hospital. They are having a difficult time regulating his blood and getting the right dosage of the blood thinners. He’s looking at a weekend homecoming if they can get things under control. No one was happy to hear that news including my Dad. Apparently he’s been taking long walks around the hospital unsupervised which is sort of frowned upon. I’m thinking he’s considering an escape attempt, and at this point, who can blame him?
A Very Non-Martha Christmas
Every year I do this to myself. I start stressing about the holidays around Thanksgiving time and don’t stop until they’re over. Then, of course, comes my birthday, shortly after the holidays and in the dead of winter, so it makes for a lovely few months for me. Every year I imagine being finished with shopping EARLY, and that all my presents will be perfectly wrapped. . .
But then reality hits. And karate testing also comes this time of year which brings added stress.
I was having a conversation with one of my best friends last week and she said "Martha has help," and she is so right. Women put pressure on themselves to have the perfect holiday season, but we don’t have a staff of 200 who do it for us. So here are the Marthaism’s for the holiday season, followed by the grim reality of it all:
Marthaism 1: All presents will be wrapped neatly and adorned with accents such as holly, cinnamon sticks, and of course ornate ribbons.
Reality: If you get a gift from me that is completely covered, consider yourself lucky. There are two children in this home who think Scotch tape is all the rage, which means that there are lots of unnecessary pieces of sticking-to-itself-and-everything-else tape on the gift at inappropriate places (Oh, and it may have a piece of cat hair stuck in it as well). There is a lack of tape where it’s needed which explains the whole "be glad if it’s even covered completely" thing. Oh, and bows? Yeah, cats eat them and barf them. There are no ribbons or bows in my house.
Marthaism 2: The Christmas buffet will have approximately seven courses. Beautiful appetizers, lovingly prepared meats and other dishes will also be displayed. There will be at least six desserts made from scratch including several that took three days a piece to make.
Reality: Hot sandwiches from a crock pot anyone? Who’s got time to cook? Dessert? Yeah, I made some cookies two weeks ago. Enjoy.
Marthaism 3: Christmas cards will be addressed using beautiful handwriting and/or calligraphy. Each card will contain a personal signature and note.
Reality: If you get my Christmas card by Valentine’s Day, consider it an act of God. Sending out Christmas cards is the equivalent of self-torture for me. Every year, I swear I WILL NOT SEND A CARD TO ANYONE WHO HAS NOT SENT ME ONE the previous year. But each year, I lose my list from the previous years senders and decide to start everyone from scratch. Everyone gets to start with a fresh slate. So, I address and mail each card, and then watch the mailbox and see who really gives a crap about me, and when people don’t. . . I get secretly annoyed. BIG TIME!
Marthaism 4: All the Christmas shopping should be done early to avoid the crowds.
Reality: I am still searching for a damn Wii that I’m never going to find. That alone could explain my headache that has lasted (I kid you not) six days straight now. I am also missing gifts for at least five other family members. And NO, I am not willing to camp at Best Buy this weekend people. I have a life.
Marthaism 5: Everyone will enjoy the holidays and be happy and healthy to start the New Year.
Reality: You know all the pictures of families sitting around the table? Imagine that with a big vat of tissues. Every year, someone is sick. When I was little, I had the chicken pox for Christmas. Last year, Lil C was suffering through her first cold and had big black circles under her eyes (as did Mommy). This year, Big I has an ear infection and Lil C has followed in her footsteps. Both girls have colds that turned into even more fun for Mom. It’s a very pink Christmas around here, what with all the Amoxicillin and everything. I’m hoping they’re over it by Christmas and that I will not be used as a human tissue by Lil C while wearing my Christmas finery. But we all know the reality of this one. . . they’ll be better, just in time for me to get sick. It never fails.
Marthaism 6: Homes should be decorated inside and out for Christmas. Christmas trees should be decorated just so, with all the proper adornment including bows, balls, ornaments, etc.
Reality: If you can find my extension cords, I will gladly put my candles in the windows. They’re gone, I tell you, gone. And Mr. BBM refuses to buy more because "They have to be here somewhere." And as far as the tree goes, the bottom half of my tree is very. . . vacant at the moment. Last night, Lil C slept with one of the Christmas ornaments. They’re also in her toy box, in sofa cushions, etc. Did I mention that both of my trees are leaning? Yeah.
I’m sure I’ll think of more as the big day draws closer. Tonight is pre-testing for karate, which will be great fun with the headache that won’t go away. But the way I see it? It gets me away from the pile of Christmas cards that are just staring at me, waiting for stamps.
Where are the stamps anyway?
Note for the Neurosurgeon
Dear Dr. Neurosurgeon:
Here’s something you don’t just casually mention after your patient (my Dad) has had a craniotomy when it’s over the phone, not in person and via another person:
"We might have to drill some more holes in your head."
Seriously, what the hell?
Sincerely,
The Patient’s Very Annoyed and Upset Daughter
Burn Out
It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and I was ahead of the game. I had one Christmas tree up and had plans to get out the second tree that weekend. I had visions of a relaxing holiday season, complete with cozy nights curled up by the fire with hot chocolate and gazing at the perfectly decorated Christmas tree.
Then, my Dad had to have surgery and everything got turned upside.
My Christmas decorations remained in their boxes until way after I usually get them out. Our schedule got filled up with school activities and church bake sales, Christmas plays and shows, and Home Owner’s get-togethers. Our tree was attacked by a very little destructor child.
Then Lil C decided she was not going to take naps on a regular basis, which resulted in huge headaches for me (literally), and increased whining from Big I. Lil C awake time = time that Big I and Lil C have to get on each other’s nerves = Mommy gets a major headache.
And the shopping. . . the search for the perfect holiday party dress led us on a three mall crusade that lasted for three entire shopping days. And I can almost guarantee that when I put it on, I’ll wish I had stuck with my original choice. This is what happens when you offer a stay-at-home-mom a night out. Everything has to be "perfect," kind of like my visions of a relaxing holiday season.
It is no secret that I can be incredibly grumpy when things aren’t going my way, and that’s putting it mildly. Mr. BBM has been wondering why I’m in such a bad mood lately and here are just a few of the reasons why. . .
First of all, I get up at 7 am or before to try to get a shower first thing in the morning, but it doesn’t ever work because a certain 14-month old decides that she will also get up to keep me company and did I mention that she would like to be held. I try to pull clothing on with one arm or stick Lil C in an exer-saucer where she complains and loudly while I try to get clothes on and brush my teeth. I then wake up Big I and say at least 20 times, "Hurry up, brush your teeth" and "Hurry up, get dressed," before she finally, s-l-o-w-l-y makes her way down the stairs. Then, no matter what she tells me she’d like for breakfast, she complains that I got her the wrong thing even after she just asked for what I got her. Then I say at least 40 times, "Hurry up and eat. We’re going to be late." At 7:55, this constant prodding turns into hysteria as we all struggle to get shoes and socks, coat, gloves, and hats on and make our way to the freezing cold car. On the way to school, everything is fine. Both munchkins are content. But after we drop Big I off, Lil C spends most of the ride SCREAMING her head off because on the way home, the sun is in her eyes.
Once home, I spend the rest of the morning trying to clean up from the morning "festivities" and trying to figure out when I can get a shower already because I really need and want one. Then, other things happen like:
- I vacuum the living room, only to be followed by Lil C shredding an entire box of wipes and distributing them throughout the room from the safety and comfort of her port-a-crib.
- I spend what feels like hours folding laundry, only to have Lil C, in one disastrous moment, traipse through the waiting-to-be-put-away piles and "fold" all the clothes herself.
- Lil C has a snack and it goes something like this: One cracker for Lil C; one for the floor; one cracker for Lil C; two for the floor, and then I step on one (crackers and puffs are like land mines). . . and I end up having to mop the kitchen floor. . . again.
On a good day, only one of those will happen. On truly bad days, multiply that by ten.
Before lunch time, Lil C and I make our way out to the bus stop, which once again involves putting on coats, gloves, scarves, hats, etc. 1-year olds are not particularly happy little beings when being decked out in winter finery. It’s sort of like trying to dress a Disney Store Polly Pocket doll. Thumbs are in the wrong places and you’re feeling lucky if the clothing even stays on.
At the bus stop, Lil C is thrilled to see her sister, but when she is not allowed to get on the bus, the excitement quickly turns to a threatening tantrum and our walk back home is full of screaming, squirming and other "fun."
And that’s just my morning.
Add to that the busy holiday season and all the pressure and stress that comes along with it, and you’ve got one very disgruntled, burnt out, in need of a spa MONTH mama.
Pass the Advil please.
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