Tuesday, September 22, 2009

later

I called Healthnet. Got nowhere. Called again. And again. I got a person who tried. She told me to leave a message. I almost gave up. Instead of transferring me to voicemail I got a person. A real live person on the other side whom I suspect has a heart that beats and blood that pumps.
I took myself off of our family plan. I am now, if I wasn't before, fully committed to going to school. I upped our deductible. Best of all I added dental insurance for an additional 60 bucks a month. Dental and vision because they come together, but well, Mira and Eli don't stand much of a chance in the good eye department. It all starts Oct 1st which is before Mira's next appointment and will be effective immediately.
Take that Krista fucking Badger!
America, you mess with me and your own peril.

the dentist

Mira has a cavity. She also needs sealant on her four back teeth. Something that normally would have been an inconvenience is an all out crisis.
The bill for the two visits, cleaning, x-rays, etc was nearly $500. Yup. That's a month of health insurance. A month of groceries. A month and a half of Kindergarten. More than a month's salary for me. And that was for them to tell me that I needed to come back and pay them more money.
This is a dentist's office that offers no payment plans. You can "split up" your visits if you so choose, but I don't see how that saves any money. No net here. Nothing for low income or unemployed. A dentist for the well off. Probably one that we shouldn't be going to anyway.
What a fucked up country that we live in! A cavity for God's sake shouldn't cause this kind of set back for us.
And its awful not to really trust the people providing your care. But how can you really? Does a baby tooth really need to be sealed? What to believe in and what not?
I pulled myself together and didn't cry in front of the dentist or the children although I wanted to. Its true that money exists that belongs to us that allows us to pay for this and to eat too. And to stay in our home. But this just isn't what we should be spending it on.
Mira, from the back seat of the car, in her grown up voice that somehow makes her sound younger, offered to help pay to fix her own cavity.
"We can do it sweetie," I told her, "we have enough money to fix your tooth." It still amazes me who she is.

I dropped them at school afterwards. Mira found her teacher right in the front hallway who smiled at her and shuffled her right off to music. She said hello to Eli and told me that she was happy to see Mira.
Meanwhile in Kindergarten...
A boy had locked himself in the stall in the bathroom and was refusing to come out. Neither Mrs. McAdams nor Kristy knew what to do. The kids were sitting patiently on the rug, and Cynthia even got a label for Eli's apple. But she is not herself, not the same Kindergarten teacher that Mira had. A Kindergarten classroom should not hold 28 students. I'm afraid its going to crack this very good and very seasoned professional. Its not a situation that can succeed. That school is so damn crowded, I can't believe any real learning can happen there.
I feel like we are living the American nightmare right now. No money to get sick, overcrowded schools, whopee! Isn't this a great country?!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

bills, bills and more bills

What a cliched title for a post, but really, who knew how much water from your very own tap costs? And this is with two kids who don't bathe particularly often.

I'm amazed at how different my spending habits have become. I used to shop for fun, for recreation, for enjoyment. And now? I can't. The thought of buying something literally makes my stomach turn. The one time I went to Fred Meyer in this whole debacle, to buy a yahrtzeit candle, I thought I might fall on the floor and weep. I cannot be around commerce right now.

Jeff on the other hand doesn't seem to have that problem, and here it is nearly the end of Elul and I'm trying to let go of anger and rancor, but I wish he'd stop. Move to the world that I live in. The other day he left his power supply cord at home, was too busy to come home and get it, so he bought a new one. He tells me that he'll return it, but he hasn't yet. It's this kind of thing that makes it hard to move on. To pull ourselves up and move into 5770 with an unbroken heart. And really, I don't think Apple is in the business of lending out power cords. Are they really going to give him a full refund for a used power cord. We just can't be throwing money out the window like this, and I can tell myself not to get pissed, but how can I not?

And then there's the thing with Eric. They seem to be applying for some kind of grant money. And I guess it's like one of those writing contests where you pay to enter, and the winner gets a cash prize. And I don't doubt that they can win. I don't doubt Jeff's talent and commitment and unique brand of brilliance. But I'm in shock, I really am. It cost a lot of money, nearly $200. That's two weeks of groceries. He says Eric will pay him back and I believe him because I have to because if I don't have faith in him and trust than we have nothing, but what do I tell that part of myself that asks "what if he doesn't?" What if its gone forever? How can we get through this then.

And when is he going to start packing a lunch? And putting receipts in "the envelope." The bigger question I guess is when will I stop thinking this way? I want to trust him, I do.

On the good side Jeff's friend Ed is starting his own business. Jeff told him to call him back when he has money to pay him. So hallelujah. I know it pains Jeff to say no to new business ventures. That he loves building a company like nothing else and pouring all of that passion and dedication into a new venture. But he said no. So there is hope.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

ooof gozal

The title of today's post is dedicated to Eli Alexander Katz. Kindergartner extraordinaire!

Back to fall of the house of Katz:

Jeff got home on Monday zonked out of his mind from lack of sleep. We had to postpone our weekly "meeting" until Tuesday, where, in the AM he told me that he had a softball game. I wanted to talk on Wednesday night. He wanted to just wait until Sunday, and do two weeks at once. I agreed because I am trying to be supportive and I know that all of this is difficult for Jeff.
Except that I'm not. Supportive that is.

The big blow out came later on in the day, after Mira was home from school. I've been doing poorly on my pre-GRE tests. I'm going crazy after a long summer and a really stressful week coming up next week. We got another goddamn bill from a collection agency. I blew up. We screamed. Jeff through his keyboard and nearly broke his wrist. We did this in front of our kids. They didn't even cry. They just gave us that heartbreaking innocently bewildered angry look and separated us. Really. Eli pushed me out of the room. They don't know how much they saved us, how much they are saving us.

He didn't play today. We made up but we are not okay. I am going to try to let go of being angry. I hate being angry. Jeff is going to try to heal. But trying is not doing and I am not a patient person. I want it fixed and I want it fixed now.

Libby called last night offering friendship or loans or whatever. She saw me freak out when Mira's tooth fell out. Really, if I have to pay any more money for this tooth I might crumple. I had a good crumple yesterday. On the couch, underneath the green blanket while everyone was at soccer. I collapsed. And then I got up and made pasta because the choice to collapse doesn't really exist.
I can see all of this in my face. What kind of year will we have. I always expected some kind of release on Eli's first day of Kindergarten. I don't know. Mostly it was empty.

Monday, September 7, 2009

do you have a suit?

Jeff went to Austin for his cousin Eric's wedding.
Such a simple sentence right? None of our friends have questioned it, the only question of course is why I'm not there.
The funny thing is is that I'm allowed to say it cost too much. In this economy everyone talks about things costing too much. But no one (other than Levia) knows how incredibly hard this is for us. I'm buying damaged fruit, cutting the mold off of bread and serving it, making challah as our bread choice. We are just not flying places and going on trips right now. Except that Jeff did. He bought the ticket before the collapse. But he's not living in the same place as me. He hasn't moved to moldy bread land yet.
Our application for reduced lunch was accepted. Its like we've officially been declared poor.
Hopefully from here we will get a scholarship for all day Kindergarten. All day Kindergarten with a total of 28 kids in the class.
I'm having a hard time relating to my friends who are clearly not suffering at all. We had dinner with the Cullsteins last night at Baja Fresh. They told me all about their dinner out at a new French Bistro in the Pearl the night before and how they saw a French movie at the Living Room theater. We laughed that they were being influenced by Jenn. They thought nothing of joining us on our evening out at Baja Fresh. They had no idea that our evening out at Baja Fresh was it. Our big night. Our restaurant meal! It was our French Bistro and our French film for the month. I can't judge can I? I can't even have the sanctimonious pleasure of judgement since I was them less than a month ago.
It turns out that Jeff doesn't have a suit. At least not one without moth holes. He thought about filling in the holes with a sharpie (of which we have plenty) or just wearing a mismatched suit. We voted for option two. Mismatched vs sharpy.
We spent the week treating each other gingerly. This trip, no matter how you look at it, is a blow. It sets our progress back. Our progress to solvency and also our progress to partnership. He bought the ticket before the crash. I know that he did. But still, its a blow.
Credit card bills are pouring in. This not over by a long shot.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

week three

Yesterday we found out some great news. I won third place in the Moment Magazine annual short fiction contest.
We really needed some good news around here. Things have been tense lately. It seems like we spend an inordinate amount of time talking about money but not doing much to solve any of our problems.
Sunday night was intense. Jeff and I looked at each other and both realized that we are facing the biggest challenge of our marriage, really the first on that is threatening to destroy us, and realizing that it might. The crisis might win. Its teeth are still sharp enough to destroy what we've built together.
That's why the good news was so very welcome. We are good at good news. We know how to react to good news. We get good news in a way that we don't get bad news. And maybe that goes back to my point that we are both just too optimistic for this world. Either that or too stupid. And the good news just cheered us up, got us talking again.
Then of course there's the idea I had that on the off chance I got Moment I'd rethink speech therapy, but, well, we won't go there yet.
Once again I just have to marvel at how well the kids are adjusting. All kids should experience what Mira and Eli are experiencing right now. They are, before my very eyes, becoming better people. Less spoiled. Open to purely enjoying the best part of life. All of the stuff that we thought they wanted, turned out that they didn't. We created the monsters. Luckily we chased them away too, and for that it might have been worth it.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

a return to a vague normalcy

The first week felt like one of those surreal weeks where you are suspended in time and you never know when to eat or sleep or cry.

The second week feels, well, kind of normal. I've been eating and sleeping normally. Jeff and I are tiptoeing back towards each other. It is dawning on us that we need each other to get through it. I can't say I don't feel any anger, but the anger is dissipated with love and therefore we will survive, something I couldn't have said a week ago.

Some surreal things that are still happening:
1. Walking around the JCC looking for a lost water bottle. Who were those people who thought that they could afford to send their kids to all of those camps? Mira and Eli felt strange because they were walking around their camp as free birds. I felt like I was visiting with a person (me!) I used to feel some fondness for but now I realize is a stranger to me.
2. Cobbling together two dollars and fifty cents to take Orly swimming with us. Orly! Rich offered to pay but all he had was twenties.
I'm realizing that there is this whole other expense in life that I never paid attention to. It's me paying for Orly's swimming, or giving Mel $5, or lending Tia an egg. Its not tzedakah, its more I guess, friendliness, or good neighborliness or something. Whatever, its strange, and I know that somehow we get it back and that we have to, if we're going to live in this community, participate in it, but I can't believe I never noticed it before.
3. Going to Neveh Shalom and getting everything discounted for us. Really moving to the other side of giving, which is receiving. That's the side we live on now.
4. Coincidentally Mira decided yesterday to empty all of our tzedakah boxes into one big bag. A giant bag of money sitting on the dining room table. I don't know what it means exactly, but there's some symbolism here.
5. I've stopped wanting my mother.
6. It may be my imagination, but the kids seemed to have stopped asking for stuff all of the time. Is it really that simple? Stop buying stuff and they'll stop asking for it? They haven't asked to go out for a meal, or to see Harry Potter. They did not even glance towards the snack bar at the pool yesterday. I'm sure there's something I'm not seeing but, I think this may be, gasp, good for them.
7. I'm feeling much more tuned into their needs now that I know I can't assuage their feelings with material things. Its all about my attention. That's what they want, more than anything else that's what they want, and I'm trying to give it to them as generously as I possibly can.
8. I'm walking by the phone less with the intention of picking it up to call Mom. Not like normal (I still do it way more times than you would think after she's been dead for nearly 12 years), but less times than last week.