It’s a mixed bag today, my friends. A mixed bag to match my mixed life.
Let’s start with the good: WE FINALLY GOT OUR MORTGAGE REFINANCE APPROVED!!! (Oh, happy day!)
Perhaps you’ll remember our nightmare saga from May (yes, we have been working on it for THAT long), and the hero Sam who we thought was our white knight? Well, he turned out to be just as bad as Brent from Countrywide, if not worse. (Maybe it’s just Countrywide in general?)
Sam strung us along for months (and months and months!) while he pretended to work on our mortgage. His most vile act was asking my mom to leave school early on a Friday (not usually a big deal, but she teaches year-round school and this was the track-off Friday, so there were a million things to be finished up) and having her drive 40 minutes to my house so he could have us sign the thick stack of applications and get them submitted. (I’m no mortgage person, but it seems to me that this the FIRST step. Sam concerned himself with the “what-if” steps numbered 6-10, trying to out-guess the underwriters who hadn’t even seen our application.) At 4:45 PM, Sam called Kenny at work and told him he would be at our house at 5:15. Mom pulled up sometime around 5:30, and still no Sam. Six o’clock, then seven… finally at 7:30 she was so angry she went home, and I called Kenny in tears. He was furious, and he called Sam, who had forgotten about coming over. To an appointment he’d made just a half-hour earlier.
Sam told Kenny he had gotten sidetracked with a mortgage “emergency” and then yelled at Kenny for being upset. He threatened to walk away from the whole mortgage deal if we didn’t drop the “attitude” and told Kenny he’d be in touch with us after five or six days, when he got back from a(nother) vacation. (I kept asking, “What deal? He hasn’t done anything yet except ask us to dig up obscure records that an underwriter may or may not want to see.” And attitude? He thought KENNY had attitude? He’s lucky he didn’t talk to me that night, because it wouldn’t have been pretty.)
I was LIVID.
The very next morning, we took our loan to a new company, and it took one day shy of three weeks to get full approval. Three weeks. No games, no jumping through hoops, no week-long vacations or weeks with no phone contact, and no blaming us (or the economy!) for being too challenging to get an approval. Our payment is almost $500 less that what we’re currently paying, and I am jubilant.
(If you live in the Salt Lake Valley and you need a competent, hard-working, TIMELY mortgage officer, please call Lori Crow at United Mortgage. I can give you her telephone number. She has been a dream to work with.)
So, that’s the good. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s pretty darn fantastic?
The bad: I went to get a flu shot today. The dealership was offering free shots to all employees and their spouses. (Too bad we couldn’t have had the kids done, too, but that would’ve been ugly. I can’t imagine many customers would have enjoyed listening to the terrified– and highly irrational, if you ask me– screams of four children.) The FREE flu shot was good, but my arm is sore, and that’s bad. As a mom, I use my arm a lot. With all things considered, it’s sort of an “eh” bad: not great, but not horrible.
Then there’s the ugly: Anthony had a complete meltown in Target today. We ran in to get a birthday gift for one of Kendra’s friends, and while I was (quickly!) perusing the face wash selection, Anthony turned around in the cart and started pounding on Hannah, who was sitting in the back. For once, it was completely unprovoked. When I told him to stop it, he leaned over and tried to swipe all the bottles off the nearest shelf. I moved the cart to the middle of the aisle, out of reaching distance. He kicked his shoes off. I picked them up and put them on the bottom of the cart, and then he REALLY freaked out. “I WANT MY SHOES!!!” he yelled. I calmly explained that because he had kicked them off, they were going to stay off until we got to the checkout lane. (This is not a new thing. His stupid crocs are always getting kicked off. Sometimes it’s an accident, but most times it’s purposeful disobedience.)
My little boy screamed bloody murder at the top of his lungs throughout the whole store. He was flailing and kicking and punching so hard I ended up pushing the cart with my fingertips, in order to keep a safe distance. What I really wanted to do was pull him out of the cart and give him a good spanking, but as justified as it would have been, you never know who is going to report you for child abuse. I settled for a discreet tap on the mouth mid-scream, which did absolutely nothing to stop it.
(It’s a fine line to walk, isn’t it? One group looks at you and wonders why you can’t get your child under control, while the other side thinks any sort of discipline is akin to serious abuse. I should probably clarify that I am not a believer in physical punishment, but I think there are some behaviors that call for a swat on the bottom. Anthony’s tantrum(?) / meltdown(?) / psychotic break(?) was one of them. Only being in public, I hesitated. The way he was screaming, had someone witnessed a spanking, no matter how well-deserved it was, they would probably have thought he was screaming like that BECAUSE I had hurt him. *sigh* )
He continued to scream through check-out and into the parking lot. After five minutes, he was sound asleep. Zonked. Completely worn out. (Understandably so.)
He is most definitely my hardest child. He’s the most active, the loudest, the one with no sense of danger, the messiest, the most defiant, the most coordinated, the strongest, the worst hitter, the most violent, the one with the worst tantrums… you get the idea. And yet, there are days when he’s a complete angel. I just haven’t seen one of those days in a long, loooooooong time. His behavior is getting so out of hand, I’m ready to take him to the doctor for an evaluation. I wonder if it’s related to blood sugar, or age, or the time change? I’m uncertain. The only thing I do know is, his mood swings are wearing me out.
And today’s outburst was ugly. U-G-L-Y.