I know we’re in a budget crisis, but this is beyond chintzy.
I got my 1099g in the mail from NYS. On the outside of the self-mailer was a survey with the following text.
Check your preferences, detach and return this card to us.
Which of these new methods do you prefer for obtaining 1099-g information in the future?
Tax Department’s Web site: http://www.nystax.gov or
Automated phone system
[ArtSweet: How about, none of the above, mail it to me?]
Have you accessed the Tax Department’s Web site for assistance in managing your taxes
Being a civic-minded individual I filled out the survey, and then turned it over to see the following
Post Office will
Are you kidding me?
Um, no. I am not spending 42 cents of my hard earned money on behalf of the Tax Department and its Web site.
In other news. How to cure Sensertaphobia(TM) in a few easy steps.
- Lose your Senserter. Hunt all over your house without success.
- Do a hand insertion. Hot damn, those are big fat owie needles.
- Realize that the Senserter is pretty useful, despite the fact that you break into a sweat from the amount of pressure needed to trigger it.
- Decide you are calling Minimed in the AM to beg for a new Senserter.
- Debate whether the cats or the child are responsible for its absence, since you would never misplace anything of such medical importance.
Leaving for work: bag, keys, lunch, check. Eat the kid’s animal crackers in car, yum yum. Will bolus when I get to a red light, lights are all green. Get to work, okay now must bolus. Pump? Pump?
Oh crap. Wonderful Pili brings me pump at work. Blood sugar has been on a roller coaster ever since. SIGH.
At daycare: Kiddo runs to me, throws arms around legs, I am the happiest mama in the world.
Yep, he’s my kid: P’ito are you poopy? No Mama just fart.
Dinner: Tofu khan, peas, and ravioli. Peas and tofu apparently taste better dipped in water. I think I eat more ravi than he does, but I’m not really eating them and so I don’t really bolus and see above.
Bathtime cannot happen without his bus. I tell him to go downstairs, get his bus, come right back up. Amazingly he does.
Bedtime: Read Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus twice. He doesn’t really seem to get it – he always says yes when the pigeon asks to drive the bus, but he still really likes it. Not sure why. Shit, library book, needs to be returned.
Would purchase our own copy if Mother-Talk would ever pay me my amazon gift card or at least return my emails (three and counting, FYI). Realize I will probably never get offered another Mother-Talk gig again for writing this, but do I really want one anyway since they don’t seem to be interested in paying me? Hope potential Mother-Talk clients are reading this…
Sing songs. Kiddo does not want to be sung to. Put down in crib. Go downstairs. Finish eating non-dinner of leftover ravioli.
Hear: Mama Mama Mama Mama – ignore until volume increases. Go upstairs. Door knob to kiddo’s room is rattling. Open door to find child pleased as punch with himself for defeating crib. Crap. See pleasant evenings of grown up time slipping away before my eyes. Sit down on the floor and sob. Pick kid up and inform him that it is sleeping time and staying in crib time.
Kiddo is holding A Lot of Otters. Read, Mama? Read twice. Mama, me moonlet. Melt. Put in crib, rub back, say silent prayers. Rustling, banging, singing (Twinkle twinkle little… grandma. A B C D E F P. Up above sky so high. ) for an hour and a half on the monitor, but no more calls. Sneak upstairs once monitor is silent. Asleep. In crib. Thank you g-d.
And now? To write letter to go in holiday groundhog’s day cards.
On deck post: CGMS, the really cool technology that could be so so much cooler with a little bit of market testing. And Medtronic Minimed, the company that is single-handedly destroying the planet with over packaging.
From Bishop Gene Robinson’s (magically unbroadcast, ahem) invocation:
O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…
Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.
Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.
And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.
Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.