You are I’m sure WELL FED UP with hearing how I feel about phone calls so let’s just take it that you already know, and I refer to it only because I want to make sure I get extra credit for making a phone call this morning that saved us $68. One of Edward’s medications is a compounded medicine, meaning a special compounding (i.e., custom-medicine-making) pharmacy has to make it specially for him. I know from getting a compounded prescription for one of our cats that a lot of the price of a compounded medication is the cost of having something custom-made; so for example, with the cat’s medicine, a one-month supply was $40, but a two-month supply was only $52 because the medicine itself wasn’t all that expensive, and it was the custom nature of the product that drove the price up.

Anyway, our insurance will pay for Edward’s compounded medicine for a $50 copay. But before I realized they would do so, I was paying cash for this medication—and it was $58, which included a $5 shipping charge. (We have since then found a pharmacy we can drive to.) So this morning I geared up the courage to call the pharmacy and ask if we could fill it WITHOUT insurance, and get a three-month supply: it is almost always insurance companies that limit patients to a one-month supply at a time, not doctors or pharmacies. And the answer was yes we could do that, and it would cost $82. So, I can get it filled in three separate one-month supplies, driving half an hour to the pharmacy each time, and pay a total of $150 with insurance, or I can get it filled once and pay $82 without insurance. SCORE.

I am telling you this in part to celebrate a small victory, but also because it’s only because (that is awkward to have those two becauses like that, but let’s just move on for now) I’ve worked as a pharmacy technician AND gotten a cat’s medicine specially made that I knew to try this, and you might not have done EITHER of those things. Before I worked in a pharmacy, I didn’t know it was the insurance company limiting patients to a one-month supply of medicine at a time. So I am telling you, in case you can benefit from this as well: with almost all prescriptions (certain narcotics are different, and certain doctors may have their own policies), if you are willing/able to pay cash, you have TONS more flexibility. You can get all of your refills at once, for example. You don’t have to get prior authorizations: that’s your insurance company too, and not the doctor or pharmacy. If your insurance company says that you may only have ten of the thirty pills your doctor prescribed, they are only saying that is all they will PAY for: you may still have those other pills, if you pay cash. (“Cash” here includes credit/checks. I don’t know why it’s always referred to as “paying cash” when it’s self-pay instead of insurance.)

Of course with some prescriptions, the price of the pills means this won’t help you one tiny bit. If the month’s supply is $600 without insurance, and a $30 co-pay with it, there is no advantage to paying the $600 to avoid the hassle of getting a prior authorization, or paying $1800 cash to get your three refills all at once. If the pills your insurance company will only let you have ten of cost $20 each, it’s slim comfort to know you COULD have the other twenty if you paid $400. But it is good to keep in mind as a possible option for some cases where it might help, especially since I have found there are some pharmacy employees who enjoy explaining such things and/or telling customers their options and/or looking up cash prices, and there are even more pharmacy employees who don’t and don’t and don’t, and in fact don’t seem to understand it themselves. I had a co-worker who would say “You’ll have to call your insurance company, ma’am” to almost ANY issue/question brought up by a customer, when it was something that could be explained/fixed by us in about ten seconds. I think the pharmacy/doctor/insurance triad is a very confusing one, and that it could be made a lot clearer.

[I have literally cut-and-pasted last year’s post, because really all I want to do is an exact repeat of last year. I only changed the last paragraphs. So if this feels familiar, you are correct.]

I have a Christmas thing to recommend. My aunt sent us one of these a few years ago, and now we buy our own each year. It’s an Advent calendar for the computer—though I believe it would be more precisely called a “countdown to Christmas” calendar, since it’s for December 1-25 rather than a period of time including the four Sundays preceding Christmas. ANYWAY. It has turned out to be the funnest thing, and I love it, and the kids love it.

It costs four dollars, which was a hurdle for me at first, I’m not sure why. Actually, I think I know why: it’s because paying for something online means giving information and money online, and I feel squirrelly about that with any new company. If I could have bought a computer disc for $4 at the store, I wouldn’t have even hesitated.

I haven’t even told you really what this IS yet. First of all, it is a cute snow globe that sits in the corner of your computer screen, looking like so:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

When you click on it, as you will do at least once a day, you’ll get this little menu:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

If you choose “Enter Scene,” your whole computer screen will be filled with this picture:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

See all the numbers scattered around? You can click on each number on or after its day: i.e., on the 3rd, you can click the number 3, and you can also still go to 1 and 2. Some days, clicking a number will take you to a short animation with music. For example, on Day 1 this year, there was a band gathering to play a Christmas song. Some days, you’ll instead go to an activity or game. For example, on Day 2, we got to DECORATE STAINED GLASS WINDOWS:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

We were all FIGHTING to take turns to do this. There are also Christmas trees to decorate:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

Again, lots of fighting about whose turn it is to decorate a tree. (I have to wait until they go to bed or school to get a turn.) There are three trees to decorate (and re-decorate: you can do it again and again, AND WE DO), and one of them (the one most recently decorated, Elizabeth says) [Update: she is wrong, it’s the one you drag the “Display” sign to], shows up IN THE SCENE ITSELF after you decorate it! The stained glass windows also appear in the scene! It is so fun. And then when you’re done playing you choose “Shrink Scene” at the bottom of the page, and it all disappears back into the little snow globe.

Although one countdown-to-Christmas calendar is $4, if you buy ten or more of them they’re only $2 each. I find this kind of deal difficult to resist, so I’m buying ten of them. One is for me, one is for my niece and nephew, and I will give the other eight to you. The calendar is sent by email; you then go to the site from your link and download the calendar.

Last year’s theme, shown in the photos above, was Victorian Christmas; this year it’s English Seaside. But if you missed last year’s, and you like the Victorian concept better than the Seaside concept, you can have it: they made a 2016 version. So when you leave a comment, you can say which one you’d prefer, Victorian or Seaside.

Last year I didn’t think of doing this until we were already on December 3rd, so we had to rush; this year we have time. Let’s say I’ll pick eight names on Tuesday evening, the 29th. That gives us a day for things like collecting email addresses, making sure emails got through, getting the thing set up on the computer, etc.

I am making a wreath for an annual wreath-auction fundraiser. It’s usually one of my favorite events of the whole year, so I am trying to get up to a level I can at least describe as “interested,” if not wildly enthusiastic.

The wreath requirements are, basically, anything. People have done really fun things in the past: making a wreath out of bath poufs and decorating it with bath bombs and travel-size bath products; putting three wreaths together to make a snowman; covering a wreath with lottery tickets; taking a ring of styrofoam and hot-gluing wrapped candies all over it. Some people use the wreath as a transportation device for items: they’ll tie two mugs and a box of hot chocolate and a bag of marshmallows and a box of cookies to it, for example. Other people make more traditional pretty wreaths with bows and ornaments, so it’s a really good assortment. Businesses often pitch in too with a wreath decorated with gift certificates or samples.

I like to take a clearance sparkly-foil wreath from the year before and decorate it with whatever kid stuff my kids are into. One year I decorated with Webkinz animals and Webkinz trading cards. This year I might do Minecraft. Or something with Pokémon: These assorted plastic Pokéballs would make good “ornaments,” and I could add a pack of Pokémon cards dangling in the middle.

I thought it might be fun to do a political wreath this year, but I can’t think of anything that doesn’t make me feel sad. I have a bunch of HRC pins, for example. Wouldn’t those be lovely ornaments. *weep* Did you know the pins are on clearance on the HRC site? *weeps more, begins drinking*

Oh, you know what I should do? I should look in my gift closet and see if there’s anything in there that would work. *rummages* Not really. I think I’ll go with the Pokémon idea. [Edited to add: Oops, those Pokemon balls aren’t available with Prime shipping. Never mind. I will think of something else.]

If your candidate won this election, I am sorry to say this is another post written for the benefit of those who didn’t want him to win. I really do feel so grateful to you for your patience. I know from being on the winning side of other issues that it can be very difficult to let the losers be so vocally disappointed. It is valuable, kind work you are doing when you clench your teeth and let it happen, and it speeds the recovery process, and it makes you look gracious and mature as heck.

For those of us who did not get the candidate we wanted: If you are not feeling better yet, and not feeling ready to get up and start taking action, that is okay. It hasn’t even been a week, and this was a huge blow, and the results are ongoing into the future. I picture a lot of us dragging ourselves across the floor, leaving streaks of blood behind us. There’s nothing wrong with you if you’re not over it yet, considering it’s nowhere near done happening.

If you are starting to feel better, that’s okay too. Resiliency is one of the very best things about humans. Those suckers just keep getting up.

If you feel alternately better and worse, and also anxious that it’s wrong/inappropriate to start to feel better, and also you are wondering if you should be even more worried than you are, meet my hand in the air.

It’s so encouraging to see how many people have the immediate instinct to HELP and DO GOOD. I’m seeing so much talk about donations and volunteering. I hope you won’t feel pressured to help and do good in the same way another person is doing it; different people have different strengths, abilities, and resources. I am COMPLETELY IGNORING everything saying that I MUST make phone calls, because I am just 100% not going to do that. Let’s put the PHONE-CALL PEOPLE on phone calls. I will write letters, and I will write checks, and I will do other things that make sense for me to do, and I hope when you are ready you will do the things that make sense for YOU to do. You can find your own things from among the things other people suggest; you don’t have to do all the things yourself.

The week after the election is really hard. I’m going with my Temporary High Stress Coping Plan, which is basically this:

1. Eating lots of things that just SMACK of holy nutrition, such as broccoli and carrots and eggs and bananas and smoothies and yogurt and blueberries and salmon. Making sure I get plenty of protein, because that seems to help. Making sure I eat nice big quantities, because a full stomach is comforting: I think it triggers a biological “everything is okay” feeling. Hunger causes stress, as it ought to for survival purposes.

2. Having on hand any edibles/drinkables that are happy and supportive. Cookies. Vodka. Chocolate bars. Cheese popcorn. Bailey’s Irish Cream. Good dips. Potato chips. Drambuie. Smoked almonds. Get it, gurl.

3. Exercising. It’s good for reducing stress. But it’s hard to do while stress-nauseated and existentially discouraged. So I don’t beat myself up if I can’t make myself do it; I do remind myself that it has been helpful in the past. Sometimes I say to myself, “Listen, just set the treadmill to, like, 1.3 mph and let your feet drag resentfully for five minutes.” Then once I’m ON the treadmill, I start to feel a little better and that makes me crank up the speed. I tell myself I can stop anytime, so that I don’t feel as inclined to rebel.

4. “Everything is going to be all right” music sometimes helps, but I’m not finding it very helpful right now. It feels like a promise no one has the ability to make at this point. I’m leaving it on the list because maybe you are reading this list much later, and applying it to a different sort of stress. In which case I recommend Odds Are by The Barenaked Ladies. Trudee mentioned it in the comments section awhile back, and I’ve been using it as therapy ever since. Also Tonight, Tonight by Hot Chelle Rae: La la la, whatever; la la la, it doesn’t matter; la la la, oh well; it’s all right.

5. Thinking of this as a literal physical illness that will pass. I’ve used this in the past when there’s been a confrontation or stressful situation I can’t stop thinking about, and I’m queasy with adrenaline: I think of it as being sick, and I remember how on other occasions I have felt this way and then recovered. I have to suffer through it for awhile, but it’s not permanent. This is not helping as much right now, when I don’t know on which approximate date to pin my hopes of relief.

6. Finding distractions, when possible. Exciting books. Riveting TV series. Good phone games. I downloaded AlphaBetty Saga, which is sort of like Candy Crush and sort of like Scrabble. I’m watching Love, which I’m finding mesmerizing and uncomfortable in a very distracting way. I don’t know yet if I’d recommend it. There’s a lot of crude/naked/awkward. Yesterday I worked on the CSS, a stressful financial-aid form some colleges require in addition to the FAFSA; I figured I was miserable anyway and might as well be doing something miserable.

7. Finding happy evidence of Good Humans, when possible. Museums. Trick-or-treating. Playgrounds. Animal shelters.

8. Finding things to look forward to. I like to think about Thanksgiving recipes, and Christmas. If you have the budget room, I suggest ordering/buying a few fun things (a book you’re on the waiting list for at the library; new pjs; sequined shoes). Post-election presents, as a reward for surviving.

9. Doing practical things, if any. Sometimes there aren’t any. This time I found it comforting and helpful to write checks: ACLU, American Refugee Committee, Planned Parenthood, PlanUSA.org. It’s a drop in the bucket, but it IS a drop, and it’s IN THE BUCKET.

This is a good day for catching up on laundry, doing the weekly grocery shop, and filling the cars up with gas. Just a nice productive Monday, no different than any other.

You know how there are things that you learn when you’re a kid, but REALLY LEARN as an adult? Like, I learned to wash my hands when I was a child, but I didn’t REALLY LEARN to wash them until I was an adult and it mattered to me to get the germs off. I learned to brush and floss my teeth when I was a child, but I didn’t REALLY LEARN to brush/floss them until I was 22 years old and making $5.80/hour and had four giant cavities I had to pay to fill. I learned to do just-in-case shopping before a storm when I DIDN’T do so and then was snowed in with the resulting toddler.

There is also a batch of things I learned when I had to teach them to the kids, and one of those things is the embarrassingly dorky concept of good sportsmanship. I didn’t play sports much as a child (other than a brief bench-sitting time on the Little Christian School soccer team, for which I had to wear below-the-knee culottes so I wouldn’t be too provocative in my soccer uniform), and I don’t remember the concept coming up much otherwise. Teaching it to the kids, combined with seeing vivid negative examples from adults who haven’t yet learned/incorporated it, has been very instructive.

Now possibly you played a lot of sports as a child or figured this all out long ago and so this is like Being a Human Being 101 for you, but for me it was kind of mind-blowing to realize that good sportsmanship is for the WINNER as well as for the LOSER. And in fact, in some sense it is MORE for the winner. The loser must be polite and must accept the outcome graciously: no public tantrums, no “IT’S NOT FAIR!!,” no violently overturning the game board all over the floor. But the winner has an even greater burden, because the winner is the HAPPY one in this situation. The winner must be polite too, and must accept the outcome graciously: no public gloating, no mocking, no butt-waggling. AND ALSO the winner must be especially gracious in the face of any slippage in sportsmanship from the loser, because the loser is the one who is suffering and the winner is the one who is feeling GREAT. Overcoming the feelings that go along with defeat is hard, it’s really HARD, and overcoming the feelings that go along with victory is…not all that hard, because the winner is happy instead of miserable. The winners know this down to their elemental beings because the winners have all been losers at one time or another, and so have had a chance to compare attitudes.

It’s so common and human to attempt to be a good sport and to FAIL, or to forget to try, or to be too upset and unhappy to try immediately, or to stumble a bit before finding solid footing. Even someone who is trying hard to be a gracious loser may need a little time to adjust. Even someone who is trying to accept defeat may need to go through a few other stages first in order to get to that acceptance. And during that time, it is not helpful to have the winners waggling their butts and saying “WE are the WINners and YOU are the LOSErs, WE are the WINners and YOU are the LOSErs, how does it feel to LOSE, LOSERS??? YOU DESERVED IT!! LOSERS!!”

The winners of COURSE may celebrate their win, but it would be considerate of them to keep in mind the people who are feeling super sucky at that moment. It isn’t as if the winners must shut themselves in their bedrooms and scream “YAYYYYYY!!!” into their pillows to muffle their joy, but it is good sportsmanship to avoid crossing the line between rejoicing and gloating. Are you waggling your butt, either physically or symbolically? Then you are gloating.

In the case of a political election, it’s useful for both winners and losers to think to themselves, “How would I be feeling right now if my candidate had lost/won instead of won/lost, and how would I want the other side to be behaving about it?” Winners may feel as if they’re just rejoicing, until they imagine their uncles who belong to the other party behaving the same way and realize it would seem like grossly unsportsmanlike nyah-nyah-the-best-candidate-won gloating. Losers may not realize their expressions of disappointment have crossed over into unsportsmanlike behavior, until they imagine the other political party making similar remarks in the face of a loss.

Again: it is the winners, I think, who have the greater responsibility to keep the situation civil and pleasant. Both sides will stumble in their quest for good sportsmanship following an event, but the stumbles of the losers should elicit more feelings of mercy, and be more politely overlooked as temporary and understandable lapses in the face of great disappointment. The winners and losers will BOTH have to bite their tongues hard to deal with the stumbles of the other side, but the winners can distract themselves with a reverie about the happiness of the recent win, while the losers have no such comfort.

I finished the FAFSA! I finished the FAFSA! Dinner was an hour late because I made Rob sit down with me as soon as he got home and get the parts we had to do together done RIGHT THAT MINUTE, but now it is DONE! I’m glad that the school warned us repeatedly ahead of time that the Expected Family Contribution number would be More Than You Can Possibly Imagine Paying Without Selling Everything You Own. One counselor made little fluttery motions with her hands and referred to it as The Magical Fairyland Number. Another called it a “fake number.”

I read a book recently that I want to recommend:

(image from Amazon.com)

Crosstalk, by Connie Willis. I wish I had made a note of how many pages I suffered through at the beginning, persevering only because Paul had recommended the book to me and I wanted to give it a fair shot. The first section is just a woman being CONSTANTLY PESTERED AND INTERRUPTED, by people and by texts and by phone calls, and it made me feel squirmy and as if I couldn’t breathe. Then there was a plot shift and I was suddenly ALL IN, and STAYED all in even though that interruptive style persists to some extent throughout the book. It was the sort of book I kept being very eager to get back to reading, and I find those are fairly rare. I suggest reading it without reading the flap or finding out anything about it first, to increase the fun of it.

Oh, do you remember the exciting story of our stolen credit card number, the packages arriving at my house but with someone else’s name on them, and then The Mysterious Car Suddenly Parked Across the Street? And how our theory was that the person who took our credit card number might be LOCAL (the name on the package is unusual, and is listed in the phone book with an address just 25 minutes away) (though it would be pretty dim to use one’s own actual name), like maybe a local clerk or someone who put a skimmer on a local gas station pump or whatever? And that although the packages had to be shipped to the address on the credit card, he’d been able to use his own email address, and so had access to tracking info from UPS, and so knew when to sit outside our house to snag the packages? And so then we were KICKING ourselves for not taking down the license plate number?

WELL! Yesterday, THE CAR WAS BACK. I sprang into the action I’d planned while lying awake kicking myself: I sneaked out the side door (not visible from where the car was parked), stealthily crept around the back of my house and up the OTHER side of the house, so that I had a good view of the back of the car but they would not necessarily see ME, depending on how intensive a stake-out they were doing (but I suspected they were keeping an eye out only for the UPS truck). I used the zoom lens and took several clear pictures of the license plate as well as of the entire car. Like a SECRET AGENT! And then I skittered back around the house and safely inside, locking the door immediately and then trembling mightily for like an hour while wondering if I’d be more of a FEDORA-wearing agent or more of a WIG-wearing agent.

Meanwhile I commenced A STAKE-OUT OF MY OWN. Here was my plan. STEP ONE! I would keep an eye out for UPS. STEP TWO! When UPS delivered the packages, I would NOT go out and get them! STEP THREE! When the perp crept snakelike from his car and walked snakelike up the driveway to collect the packages, I would PHOTOGRAPH HIM through the window! STEP FOUR! I would take, like, three powerful tranquilizers and drive to the police station and report the whole thing! It was scary, but I was ON THE CASE!

So then I waited for hours. Every time I had to pee, I was worried I would miss the whole thing. Then Paul came home, and he walked like an ACTUAL secret agent right up to the car and looked inside, and there was no one in there. “A car seat, and a bunch of crumbs,” he reported, agent-style.

Shortly after that, a woman came walking up the street, walked to the car, got in and drove away. So. Er. Evidently I spent all afternoon spying on and photographing a car that had absolutely nothing to do with our credit card. And UPS never came. We don’t know why she was parked there for five hours. Perhaps SHE HERSELF is a secret agent!

This last week before the election is really hard. I’m going with my Temporary High Stress Coping Plan, which is basically this:

1. Eating lots of things that just SMACK of holy nutrition, such as broccoli and carrots and eggs and bananas and smoothies and yogurt and blueberries and salmon. Making sure I get plenty of protein, because that seems to help. Making sure I eat nice big quantities, because a full stomach is comforting: I think it triggers a biological “everything is okay” feeling. Hunger causes stress, as it ought to for survival purposes.

2. Having on hand any edibles/drinkables that are happy and supportive. Cookies. Vodka. Chocolate bars. Cheese popcorn. Bailey’s Irish Cream. Good dips. Potato chips. Drambuie. Smoked almonds. Get it, gurl.

3. Exercising. It’s good for reducing stress. But it’s hard to do while stress-nauseated and existentially discouraged. So I don’t beat myself up if I can’t make myself do it; I do remind myself that it has been helpful in the past. Sometimes I say to myself, “Listen, just set the treadmill to, like, 1.3 mph and let your feet drag resentfully for five minutes.” Then once I’m ON the treadmill, I start to feel a little better and that makes me crank up the speed. I tell myself I can stop anytime, so that I don’t feel as inclined to rebel.

4. “Everything is going to be all right” music sometimes helps, but I’m not finding it very helpful right now. It feels like a promise no one has the ability to make at this point. I’m leaving it on the list because maybe you are reading this list much later, and applying it to a different sort of stress. In which case I recommend Odds Are by The Barenaked Ladies. Trudee mentioned it in the comments section awhile back, and I’ve been using it as therapy ever since. Also Tonight, Tonight by Hot Chelle Rae: La la la, whatever; la la la, it doesn’t matter; la la la, oh well; it’s all right.

5. Thinking of this as a literal physical illness that will pass. I’ve used this in the past when there’s been a confrontation or stressful situation I can’t stop thinking about, and I’m queasy with adrenaline: I think of it as being sick, and I remember how on other occasions I have felt this way and then recovered. I have to suffer through it for awhile, but it’s not permanent. This is not helping as much right now, when I don’t know on which approximate date to pin my hopes of relief. Election Day? Inauguration Day? A few months after that? Eight years after that? NEVER EVER???? I do think there will be some level of relief when the election is over, even though I am also concerned about the potential aftermath. Just having that day over with may help. If nothing else, it should bring a halt to the RELENTLESS CAMPAIGN ADS.

6. Finding distractions, when possible. Exciting books. Riveting TV series. Good phone games. I downloaded AlphaBetty Saga, which is sort of like Candy Crush and sort of like Scrabble. I’m watching Love, which I’m finding mesmerizing and uncomfortable in a very distracting way. I don’t know yet if I’d recommend it. There’s a lot of crude/naked/awkward.

7. Finding happy evidence of Good Humans, when possible. Museums. Trick-or-treating. Playgrounds. Animal shelters.

8. Finding things to look forward to. I like to think about Thanksgiving recipes, and I’ve deliberately decided not to think about them until November 9th, so that I have something to look forward to. I ordered See’s Candies, which are coming November 8th-11th. If you have the budget room, I suggest ordering/buying a few fun things (a book you’re on the waiting list for at the library; new pjs; sequined shoes) and not letting yourself open/have them until November 9th. Post-election presents, as a reward for surviving.

9. Doing practical things, if any. Sometimes there aren’t any. This time I found it comforting and helpful to do some emergency preparation, which we’re supposed to do anyway. We have a lot of water and canned goods and peanut butter and toilet paper and cat food now. I’ve been trying to keep up on laundry and groceries, as if preparing for a storm that might knock out the power. I also donated money to PlanUSA.org, the local library, and my preferred political candidate. And we can vote. It’s a drop in the bucket, but it IS a drop, and it’s IN THE BUCKET.

I can’t think of a better time for See’s Candies to do their flat-rate-or-free shipping deal than right before next week’s election. It’s not quiiiiiite what I’d call “flat-rate” since it does in fact vary—but it’s $6.95 for orders $30 and under, $5 for orders between $30 and $65, and free over $65. It used to be you could pick your exact delivery date, but now you can pick a range—and when I placed my order this morning, the earliest range is November 8th-11th. Wouldn’t it be PERFECT for it to arrive ON Election Day??? But arriving for the aftermath is good, too.

We have had our credit card number stolen AGAIN. I get so frustrated with this. This time we found out because packages addressed to someone else started arriving to our house, four packages so far. At first we thought it was just a shipping error, but then Paul remembered that some places will only ship to the address connected to the credit card, so we checked and sure enough: $600 to a MILITARY TACTICAL SUPPLIES site. OH GOOD. Then Paul was like, “But how did he think he could GET these packages?”—and then we both remembered the car that’s been parked across the street from our house several days this week, in a place there is never a car parked, so that we’d both noticed and commented on it. So thaaaaaaat’s great. I have a feeling we will be dealing with this mess for awhile. Today I keep hoping to see that car out there again; we’re both kicking ourselves for not jotting down the plate number. And now we’re waiting 5 days for the new cards to arrive. I hope they will actually arrive in more like 2 days; usually it’s more like 2 days. I hate that this has happened often enough for there to be a usually.

I am ALMOST DONE filling out the FAFSA (college financial aid form). There was a big pause in there because the FAFSA asked for our checking/savings account balances, but I knew we had an orthodontist evaluation and a window-replacement appointment in the near future, so I didn’t want to put in the numbers for financial aid and THEN take out thousands. But now I am back on track. I just have to wait for Rob to get home so we can sign it and submit it.

I took the two littler boys trick-or-treating last night (older three kids were either at home or with friends) and really enjoyed it. I used to haaaaaate it: I felt so sure we were going to lose a little kid in the dark, and I was nervous about traffic, and I was trying to keep everyone from stepping in dog poop, and I was frazzled from having to get everyone fed and into a costume before 6:00, and the whole thing was an ordeal. But now everyone can for the most part get into their own costumes, and everyone can walk independently with just a periodic reminder to “Are you kidding me?? Get out of the ROAD,” and everyone remembers to say thank you, and I’ve found that sturdy little apple/cranberry juice bottles (like these or these) make PERFECT pocket flasks, so I would now say it isn’t even slightly an ordeal and I find it fairly fun.

Furthermore, I’m sure I’ve written about this before, but I get so sentimental and weepy at the whole Halloween THING. Look at all the expense and trouble people in a community go to, just to make a fun event for other people’s little children. And many of them are so FRIENDLY and CHEERY about it: “Oh, look at you! What a great costume! Here, you can take THREE things! Happy Halloween! Have fun, be safe!” *SOB* There were tears leaking out of my eyes pretty much the whole time, so good thing it was dark.

Today was not a great day, parenting-wise. I did the “I REALLY don’t want to take you to something you want to go to, so I will take you to it, but I will be so grumpy and sullen and martyrish about it, and so unable to break out of that mood even as I OBSERVE the mood and know I MUST break out of it, that I threaten to suck the joy out of everything; and also I will say regrettable things indicating my lack of enthusiasm, as if you couldn’t already FULLY COMPREHEND my lack of enthusiasm from THE LOOMING DARK CLOUD OF MY WHOLE BEING.” Then I did the “Pointing out that I TOLD YOU it would not be fun, but you WOULD NOT BELIEVE ME, and now I have set it up so that it is IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO ADMIT IT, and in this way I CONTINUE TO SUCK OUT ANY POTENTIAL HAPPINESS, now or in the future when you might want to do something else you think might be fun.”

It wasn’t good. Why did I even BECOME a parent? What a terrible idea. My poor children. Etc.

Oh! Do you need an infusion of “humankind is generally-speaking okay after all,” as I do after repeatedly accidentally looking at comments on political posts, and also after repeatedly accidentally deliberately looking at the Facebook profiles of family members I’ve had to hide for their nauseating-to-me political views? I suggest a trip to a museum. Paul and I went to an art museum today, and I kept getting teary-eyed at all the WORK and EFFORT it takes for some people to make art, and for other people to carefully preserve and protect and display it, and to create special exhibitions around a theme, and to take time to choose what to write on the little plaques, and to CARE that people come visit. There were items from, like, 1263. That’s a YEAR: 1263 doesn’t even LOOK LIKE a year, but it WAS. And those items were in a museum because not just one somebody but a whole LINE of somebodies care so much about keeping it. People spend THEIR WHOLE LIVES preserving ART for people to see long after they themselves have died. Something is beautiful and/or meaningful and/or important and so they carefully protect it and…*SOB* PEOPLE CAN BE SO LOVELY