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Easter in the Rain

The weather outside is vile--cold, wind blasting the rain against the windows and tossing treetops around as though they were dandelion fluffs being blown apart by children.  The sky is a uniform grey,  bland and opaque, no sun discernable behind the pressing gloom.

Thank goodness it's a Sunday--no need to go out, not for me, anyway.  GirlOne is out with her father, getting dropped off at a friend's home, from which she will leave for a week's vacation in SoCal.  The boys are playing a riotous game of Monopoly Jr. with GirlTwo, who has no idea of how to play but still squeals happily while doing what her brothers tell her to do.  Rolling the die is accomplished by flinging it across the room, with all three children then running to it to see who can get there first and so shout out what the number is.  It's a bit noisy, but the television is off and they're happily interacting with each other, so it's all good.

The egg hunt this morning was a riot.  BoyTwo came stumbling down the stairs to my room at six-thirty, asking when he saw me already up and dressed and reading in my rocker, "did you stay up all night?"  He was so sleep-addled on his downstairs trip that later when he saw an egg in the hall, right outside my door where he had walked just a few minutes earlier, he yelled in honest and delighted surprise, "I see an egg!"  Eventually the smaller three were all awake and present, then GirlOne (aka The Easter Bunny) was up, then their father was up and armed with his little video camera (and haven't video cameras come a long way since they were first brought out?), and the egg hunt was underway.

Easter eggs have gotten a lot sneakier since my childhood and even since an unnamed Easter Bunny was hiding them for KidOne and KidTwo.  There were Easter eggs with strings attached so they could be hung from things; there were Easter eggs with suckers attached so they could be stuck onto windows and appliances (and, in the case of one of the exact shade of blue, stuck on to the side of a bottle of Windex to hide perfectly in plain sight), and there were Easter eggs with sticky stuff so they could be stuck randomly anywhere.  BoyOne was good about letting BoyTwo and GirlTwo find the easiest ones, although I could tell that wasn't the most natural thing for his extremely competitive soul.

It was fun, and since then I've been given the odd jelly bean or two, quite a few Nerds, and a fair amount of a chocolate bunny.  A good day to stay indoors.  In a little bit, I'll get dinner going--chicken & dumplings, just right for such a cold, wet day.

And now for a complete change of subject:

Wednesday I did have to go up to that major hospital to sit in that particular clinic to get a signature on the last form without which the social worker can't get our almost-completed IHSS case to her supervisor for approval.  You see, several weeks ago, I had gone up in person with the two forms then needed.  I sat in the waiting room and wrote out a long message to KidThree's doctor on the hospital's official message form, then handed that and the two other forms to the receptionist, leaving then to hope against hope that they would actually get signed and get back to the social worker.

No such luck.  A week or two after that visit, we got a copy of one of the forms in the mail from the clinic, along with a sticky note saying that the original had been sent off to the social worker.  Uh Oh.  What about the other form?  What had happened there?  Several days after that, we got a packet from the social worker with a note saying she got the one form but not the other; she had included another copy of the missing form so we could try again.

So, my little red car and I headed north.  I got to the clinic before lunch and asked for the social worker assigned there, a woman who knew KidThree and me well.  No luck there; she was in the hospital, making her rounds.  Then I asked for KidThree's doctor, or any other doctor, or any nurse, any medical person who worked behind those swinging doors.  I explained to the receptionist my need for a signature on the magic paper, at which she offered to take the form from me and take care of getting it signed.  That offer I declined, for the obvious reason.  After telling me that she couldn't be sure anyone would help me, she picked up the phone and called someone somewhere in the back, explaining that she had a woman in front who needed some paperwork signed but wouldn't let go of it.

A nurse came out to tell me that she could take care of the paperwork for me, that it wouldn't get lost.  I told her that it had gotten lost before, so I would prefer to wait.  She recognized KidThree's name and told me she thought the paperwork had been taken care of.  She went into the back to check, then came out to show me the completed paperwork.  I explained that the form she was showing me was the one that was properly processed, but that we needed another one, too.  She said the pertinent doctor was on vacation, to which I said that I didn't care which person with a medical degree signed it.  She then said that she didn't have someone just behind the doors, waiting to sign forms, to which I said that I understood and would wait.  She said it could take until the afternoon, at which I smiled and said I'd be fine, that I had a book.  Irresistible force, meet the immovable object of KidThree's mother.

The nurse took the form back behind the swinging doors and I settled down to read.  Ten minutes later, the nurse was back, signed form in hand.  I answered a few questions for her so she could complete the signed form.  Five minutes later, I was out the door and on my way to our old town down the freeway to have a good catch-up visit with a friend, then back on the road towards home, signed form safely in my purse.  Tomorrow BoyTwo, GirlTwo, and I will drive across a bridge after dropping BoyOne at school, going to the right office to deliver it straight to the IHSS social worker.  Within the next week or two, processes should be completed and time sheets for me generated somewhere, then KidThree and I fill out the time sheets and eventually the state mails me checks for work dating back to the first of January.

Here's hoping, anyway.

And now off to get dinner started.

A

Comments
2 Comment count
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Great perserverance...

Yah rah for our side! You got it done. Ridiculous that it took that much time, energy, and effort. But you got it done. Hope KidThree is as proud of her mom as she ought to be.

The egg hunt sounded fun, and I love the way the kids throw the die. No couch potatoes here--they'll run off that chocolate and jelly beans.

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Yes, it is absolutely

Yes, it is absolutely insane, the hoops we've had to go through to get the "help" promised. All I could think of along the way (along with how much we needed the money) was, what would have happened to KidThree had she been someone dependent on paid aides who wouldn't or couldn't wait four to five months for a paycheck? And what must be happening to other people in similar situations?