My Check Writing Days Are Over

Well, here is a full moon story for today. Every couple of weeks or so, sometimes more and sometimes less often I look at our checking account online. Early today I looked because my husband called me and was asking if I had sent a check out for something (of course I am the family bill payer, aren’t you?)

While we were on the phone together I perused our checking account online. There are very few checks that I write as opposed to paying online, but there are times when I write a check for a school field trip, or when the bug guy comes to visit or when I get my haircut, etc. Or yeah, also the electricity bill and the gas (cooking and heat). Oh yeah also for some reason the cable bill was paid via check last month.

But what was this? I saw that a check cleared the other day in the amount of $986 plus change. WTH? So I clicked on the button to see a copy of the actual check and WTF???? There was MY signature and the check was made out to SOME UNKNOWN CHICK and her name and the dollar amount was NOT in my handwriting. I could barely talk as I said, “HUBS! Someone wrote a check that went through our account for $986!!! I have to call our bank now!!! Bye!!!!”

And then I quickly looked through the listing to see if anything else looked strange and poor stranded Hubs is calling me again one minute later to see what I found out before I even had a chance to find the phone number to the bank and I practically hung up on him again.

So I called the bank and got transferred to the fraud department. The fraud rep and I looked at another check that was legit and clearly saw differences with the type font of those typical items printed on the check. It was extremely creepy because someone had bogus checks printed (luckily it was one check but hmmpphh she knew to make it out for enough money but not a crazy higher amount or else it would have bounced, people, but $986 is friggin crazy high enough).

You know on your checks how it states “Pay to the order of” before you write in the name? That font was different, and other details like that. And her “Nine hundred eighty-six” writing was MUCH neater than my writing. So this chick went to my hugely popular nationwide bank with this bogus check and showed ID and endorsed the back and pulled cash out of our account. (BTW the bank allows a non-customer to cash up to $5,000).

Anyway, the fraud rep advised that the money will be put back into my account but it will take 3-5 days and that oh yeah, we will need to close out the account and open a new one. He then asked if I had any idea how this happened, and he asked me several times if I knew this person. I told the rep “No, but while I was on hold I Googled her and I see that she graduated from an alternative high school in Atlanta in 2005 called_____. (Readers, by alternative I mean it is for those who’ve been disciplined too often to be in regular public school). And that I see her under the White Pages with an Atlanta address of _____________.” She has a one-of-a-kind name so that was easy. He also asked if my purse or checks had been stolen and I said no. My guess is that someone who is employed by perhaps the power company, or the cable company, for example, photocopied it and spent time printing a check with the proper account number and routing number.

So Hubs and I had to take time to go to the bank, close the account, and now change up all those things like direct deposit, and account numbers for everything else we do. And this weekend I have to spend time redoing the accounts that I do have set up for online bill paying and change them, AND set up additional online payments. Cuz it is the 1st on Sunday.

It is funny how many people older than me (i.e. my mother, MIL, grandmother) think that anyone can get to your “stuff” online but here is proof that old fashioned checks can get into the wrong hands too. At least I am a “crossover” person with one foot moving along the electronic highway but one still Old School—I do get online and check things out—I feel horrible for older people who can be such fraud victims.

Oh well, it could be worse. Two nights ago we went to bed with our garage door wide open. Oooops! Nothing happened of course but it is a wake up call.

Hope the full moon shines bright on you tonight and be careful with your checks if you mail any out like I do/did!

The Pink Full Moon in April is on Wednesday

I have a wonderful friend and we've been friends since we were 12 years old. She lives on the other side of the country and leads a very busy life, like me. We used to talk only every few months and the call would last for hours to catch up. I don’t think either one of us liked having the long gaps of time in between so what we do these days is try to catch each other during the times that we are in the car….or we leave each other multiple voice mails. See, I am old fashioned that way—no texting. I like hearing friends’ voices and stories—the longer the better.

The other day on the way to work I was lamenting over some fast and furious period cramps. I was thinking, “I will have to tell L how this perimenopause really sucks. First I will go three months without a cycle and then it comes on full blast and catches me unaware and having to dash to CVS at lunchtime like I am a new teenager or something.”

And then I thought something that happened in 8th grade—I bet L does not remember this. Our 8th grade history class (such a cool school: 7th grade history was one year full of ancient Greek history; 8th grade was all about the Middle Ages; 9th grade was all about the Renaissance) was just about over and we were sitting in metal chairs in a semi-circle next to each other and I sneezed. Big sneeze. WTH? It suddenly occurred to me that I got my period for the first time a month or so prior and here it was a month or so later and was clueless about being prepared. And with that sneeze…it started. We wore uniform skirts, rather short, and I was actually sitting on the metal seat. I looked at L, who had been on this path of new womanly circumstances earlier than me and she knew I needed help. She got out a sheet of notebook paper and as soon as I stood up, she nonchalantly placed that sheet of paper on my chair.

And I shook my head as I realized that 35 years later I am still sharing my cycle woes with her, sheesh, some things never change. But something more occurred to me. These past couple years I have joined her on the path of perimenopause and there is no one better who understands and shares her experience and knowledge.

So this month when I think of the Pink Full Moon, besides thinking of the flowers blossoming everywhere, I am thinking of pink as the symbol of female friendship. Happy Birthday, L! I still can’t get over how I saw you on a couple of occasions out and about while at different elementary schools—once on Catalina Island and once at a fair, before actually meeting you at our new school in 7th grade. I’m so glad we are still sharing this path of friendship so many years later.

Tell me if you are still friends with a childhood friend and when did you meet?

View from the Baseball Stands

I think the total number of recreational sports teams on which my three boys have played is 48. That is a lot of teams, coaches, uniforms, sports equipment…and parents. In the fall I wrote about how parents should make it easier on themselves by not having to provide a snack.

Amazingly, this spring, none of our three sons’ teams have a snack rotation. Heck, my oldest son is almost 14 and some of those boys look like they could just about drive themselves to Wendy’s afterwards for a snack.

But today I really want to talk about my youngest son’s baseball team. There are a lot of things going on. There have been about 5 games and I am at each one and Hubs is at about half of them as he is asst. coach for our oldest son and sometimes things conflict. Or pneumonia wipes him out (but he is much, much better now).

Our youngest son is in 3^rd grade and you’d think that there would be a snack. To my amazement the coaches do not want snacks and it wasn’t discussed via email or in person. Everyone seems happy with this. I am not surprised that the lack of snack policy wasn’t announced because his two coaches do not talk to the parents. At All.

For example, after each game, the boys leave their dugout and sit on the bleachers or grass nearby and the parents stand there and the coaches talk to the players about the game. In my entire Parent-of-Three-Players lifetime, the coaches will always address the parents as well, saying something like, “Parents, we’ll send out an email over Spring Break to see who may be around”.

These coaches speak only to the players such as, “I think we need to put together a practice. Tell your parents that this Wed we will have a practice at 6:00”. It’s really odd, like they have racing horse blinders on, cuz we are standing 4 feet away. One of the coaches is extremely sarcastic to the players, which I do not like. In fact, he may have made a physical imitation of a player who missed a grounder and threw flailingly. I am NOT 100% sure though. If I were, I would have gone up to the fence and said, “Umm, you may not speak to us or look at us, but we parents are right here.” I will say it in a heartbeat. I have gotten extremely ballsy in my age.

One thing I DO like about the coaches is that they do not give out a “gameball”. Have you seen this? After the game the players sit on the bleachers and when the coaches finish the “Good job and here’s where we need to improve chat” they point out a great play and give that player a baseball, perhaps signed and dated by them. Of course the coaches have to mentally keep tabs on not omitting a player during the season. And I have to say that when my sons have gotten the gameball they are on cloud nine.

But this year the coaches told them that we win as a team and we lose as a team and there are no game balls. I really like that. So except for Sarcastic Coach, I have no complaints about the Main Coach, although his son is extremely bratty. The other day when the game was over the Main Coach did not notice but his son was “batting” Dasani water bottles with his metal bat with about 3 kids about 6 inches away. I was the nearest parent to the dugout and I said, “Not a good idea” and he glared at me.

But let’s talk about the other moms now. After all these years of team participation, I have noticed some extremely snooty moms on my youngest son’s baseball teams. It started last fall when I noticed some other moms not talking to me even after I initiated. Hubs noticed it too. In fact I had been telling him about one lady in particular. Toward the end of the season he says, "There’s one lady who walks around all dressed up like she is super special"... and I’m all, “I’ve been telling you that for a month now”.

This spring season is a new crop of moms …….. and I swear they have turned the baseball stands into a coffee clatch. The other day I was there alone for a game with Hubs to join me later. As the game was starting, one mom asked Sarcastic Coaches’ wife about the No Snacks situation, saying it was great, and the Coaches’ wife was responding. So I joined in stating how this has been the case for my older son too and it has worked out great.

(Staring at me) *Crickets*

Then the Coaches’ wife had to go over to the dugout and talk to her hubs (they are sarcastic and snap at each other all the time) and when she returned the conversation resumed and I participated again.

*Crickets*

These moms talked so much it was super distracting. I heard about one’s bladder control problems and how she needs to have that fixed but is not sure if she is done having kids and then that was a whole other conversation. I also heard all about their Weight program and points and how breastfeeding gives you 10 free points. Soon another friend of theirs from the opposing team joined and there were two or three backs turned to us. Suddenly the smell of cigarette smoke was thick in the air and everyone started glancing around because you just never see anyone smoking around the stands. One snooty lady turned completely around and looked at my Hubs and turned back. The murmurs of who’s is smoking started up again and she craned her neck again our way. Hubs said to her, “It’s not me—I thought it was you”. (Hubs told me later they were all really snooty and he couldn’t resist – I’m just glad to know that it is not just me noticing this stuff because I do have an extremely active people observation radar).

Maybe because I have seen so many games that I am just more in tune these days to the parents? I don’t know but I am finding it really interesting. In fact, even though I have not had much sleep and a long day, Youngest has a game again tonight and I am ready to get over there. Besides cheering the team from the stands I will be watching the coaches closely and observing parental antics. I’ll let you know if I chew anyone out. Like an adult. On Saturday the game was starting and something pelted me in the back of the head. Some boy had one of those little rubber balls and it beaned me. I glared. He said he was sorry. I'll be the old lady yelling "Get off my lawn" one day. Anyway, I'll let you know if I have any opportunity to speak my mind to an adult.

Some Spring Breaks Are Like This

Easter and Spring Break have come and gone and now it’s the countdown till summer. There have been some “firsts” at our house this past week. The first weekend we were all watching a movie and all of a sudden my husband exclaims, “What is this in my granola bar!!!?!

Now who knows why he was eating a Nature Valley granola bar on a Friday night, but he pulls A STAPLE out of his mouth, with the ends opened up so it’s about an inch long. Unbelievable. I ate one of those granola bars earlier in the week and so did Middle son. I’m just amazed that he didn’t bite down forcing it into his gum like a spike. I took a picture of it on this tray, below the box.

Here we have some foreshadowing of how this ended up not being a good week for him.

He likes to work in the yard with a project or two in mind over spring break. Georgia and other states were experiencing some ginormous levels of pollen. He spent hours over the weekend mountain bike riding one day and ripping out a truck load of old railroad ties from the yard. We’re thinking he inhaled too much pollen.

On Monday he wakes up with a fever but there was to be no rest for the weary because that day we had some filming action going on at our house. And he was going to be a model. So the model had to wear a long sleeved shirt and a t-shirt over that to disguise the “perspiration” because he was battling a fever. Hubs is actually not a model but a producer we know needed a laundry room to film a “before and after” makeover. So we had about 7 guys at our house from 8:00 a.m. until 10:00 p.m. Youngest loved it because he wants to be a photographer. Here he is getting to hold the camera.

So in between having his arms and hands demonstrating shelving installation, Hubs sat in a chair sweating it out. I was at work, came home and swept away the kids for Chick-Fil-A and brought him home a meal.

On Tuesday morning Hubs goes to the doctor is diagnosed with pneumonia and is given an antibiotic. It was a killer for him to not be able to do some household or yard projects. I came home and swept up the kids out for several more dinners out. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how MUCH MORE TIME I have each night when I am not in the kitchen?

I took the boys to two different skateparks during the break at night after work. Here is one pictured below. It was dark out but with bright lights night and I thought something had gotten into my camera and messed up the lens—but that is pollen in the air.

So this pneumonia thing is very unusual for him and any of us. He gets frustrated not having the stamina or breathability. He was in the front yard the other day transplanting hostas and I asked him if I needed to call his doctor and tattle. He said he was tired of being inside all week. From what I’ve read it may take a while to recuperate.

It’s our wedding anniversary today. We’ll go out to dinner if he is up to it and exchange cards as always. And then I may do more of that out to dinner action before I have baseball and roller hockey duty (one kid has one game each night this week).

Flowers, Bunnies, a Friend and a Follow Up

Yesterday we decorated eggs and by we I mean my 3rd grade son joined me. He is still enthusiastic and the other two were over at friends houses. We decorated 30 of them. Later on Saturday I asked my Hubs to get the Easter baskets out of the attic--all three are still interested in finding their baskets on Sunday morning (we hide them and they have to find them in the house). Easter sort of snuck up on me this year. A trip to Target at 3:00 p.m. on Saturday was necessary.
I am now sitting here looking at the word I typed above: "snuck". I am thinking I should have written the word "sneaked". I just asked the boys in the next room--after all they are tested on reading, writing and 'rithmetic all year long and those CRCT tests are coming up. They are now responding that it should be "snuck". And they are asking me why do I care? I am having a deja vu feeling. (And I think this would be marked as an error on their test).

What they don't know is that I am positive that Becky of Suburban Matron would know, and she is on my mind a lot the past few weeks. She was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and has shared her current story recently and as usual she writes in a way that reflects just how she is: with grace, and humor and knows how to perfectly describe a situation, and her feelings. It is as if each word is carefully chosen, but seems effortless.

And then there is her family and extended family. Readers have asked how they can become adopted into it. I am lucky enough to have visited with her in person.

And there is her love of shopping--many times locally--and she has even been known to bring her camera and ask her readers' opinions such as, "Which shoe should I wear to a burlesque party?" And she lets us know what is hot at Target, like this Liberty of London line.

Plus I could go on and on about how many other wonderful people I have "met" through Becky -- I have hijacked many people from her blogroll and added them to my own, adding even more to my life.

So go visit Becky and send her your support. But you may find that you will visit for a while and will be hooked because you can't stop at just a few posts.

For a follow up, here is a boy smiling with his souvenir Coke bottle AT HOME from his field trip a couple of weeks ago. As many of you commented, that was a really weird situation. I did email the teacher and she wrote back that glass bottles were not allowed on the buses and plus the kids had "plenty of Coke that day at the field trip" and she was going to have them make some signs for the teachers' lounge and sell them to the teachers and then give the money to Relay for Life. Weird--not the Relay for Life--but that, because there are many other classes whose teachers did send them home on the bus. Anyway about a week later she gave the kids their Cokes and if you were not riding the bus you got to take your bottle home and if you were then she opened them, let those kids drink it right then, and kept the bottles in the room. Not sure why that didn't happen the next day after the field trip. Anyway, my son put his in the refrigerator and he drank it with joy--said it tasted great, and the bottle is now on his dresser.

Hope your weekend was wonderful. Back to work for me tomorrow. I'm saving my vacation days for the summer!

She Gave Me Service with a smile and a life story

Every so often I receive a sales flyer from Kohls with the peel-off label that shows if you can get 15% off, 20% off or even (angels singing) 30% off. Do you get these? I think Kohls has figured out that I don’t go in these days for a 15% coupon but I will for 30%. Surely I need something at that discount whether it is a kitchen rug, dishcloths, underwear…you get the picture. The catch is you have to use their credit card to get that discount.

I work very close to a Kohls and about a week ago did a mental inventory of their shorts and then asked the boys what kind they wanted. Because I am their personal shopper. Seriously, it works best for everyone if I just pick out a large assortment of shorts or jeans—sometimes shirts—bring them home and have the 8^th grader and 6^th grader try them on. Then return a bunch and perhaps exchange an item or two for a different size.

I realized that my 30%-off-all-items-coupon was expiring the same day that I had to drive 2.5 hours to and from the next state of Alabama. So I did what any good sale-loving multi-tasker would do: on the way back home I stopped at a spanking new Kohls off of interstate 20 and 40 mins later tucked 3 big bags into my trunk (some stuff for me too but what the heck happened--nothing's fitting).

What I really wanted to mention is how darn nice the sales check-out person was. People, is this a Southern thing to be so friendly and chatty and helpful? I have many examples and too many to mention. Or maybe they are odd-friendly?

In a span of about 6 minutes, right after the sales cashier said hello and asked if I had a coupon (yes) and made a comment about her coworker’s tattoo I learned that:

• She wanted a tattoo with her kids names
• She wanted it to be a dolphin on her ankle (they're her fave animal)
• She thinks a tattoo is a big decision because it is FOREVER (I wanted to be friendly back after I reralized I was silent so I said I'd heard that's a tender spot).
• She was told when she was really young like 5 years old that she couldn’t have kids
• She is adopted but her bio mother has her (the cashier’s) name as a tattoo
• She has type O negative blood and that means she is a universal donor (anyone—isn’t O positive the universal donor?)
• Her kids’ names would actually be in a halo above the dolphin
• Her son is only 7 but he donated his own money for a child with leukemia
  

She was certainly chatty and at first I thought she was a little unprofessional but then again this was Kohls and not Nordstrom AND she folded everything with care, stapled my $60 Kohls bucks (woo!) onto my receipt, made sure I understood that I didn’t have to drive back to this same store to use it, thanked me for the business, called me sweetie and more. She may have been chatty but she chatted to me only and not her coworker another row over and she was not slow with ringing up 21 items (btw more than half are going back to the store).

Maybe I am simply remarking how super nice this experience was in Alabama despite the non-glitz of the store, the merchandise or the representative (I even had a nice young man approach me and ask if I was finding everything and if I needed any help). But after traveling across some of the country on a road trip this past summer I have to say I notice what many call Southern hospitality.

Have you seen a change of customer service in this economy? Or have any good stories?