Scammed

Wednesdays between the months of June and October are my busiest days, especially now that school has started. I have two farmers markets to staff, which means going to the bakery to get bread which I then wrap in brown paper and tie with twine, go to the bank for change for both markets, and make sure each staffer is equipped with all they need for the afternoon. We're also on week 4 of being a CSA pickup site. 70 cases of produce are dropped off at lunchtime and between 1:30 and 7, people come in to pick up their shares for the week. This is great fun because it means a flood of faces excited about fresh food. Sadly, I leave the shop each Wednesday at 2 to bring bread and product to Molly, my staffer at the Bellevue Farmers Market, so I miss much of the shop traffic. This Wednesday I felt a little off, a little foggier in the head than normal. I should note that Tulpen's sleep has been worse than usual over the past several weeks, and I am not, nor have I ever been, a coffee drinker. Sometimes I think that choice really is to my detriment. My bleary eyes passed over the shop, taking account of all I needed to accomplish there in the next four hours. The list I'd written had been left on the dining room table at home. I began compartmentalizing and tackling each task one by one until I'd gotten caught up and things were all as they should be.

Then, not ten minutes before it was time for me to leave, I answered the phone. Most of the calls I get are telemarketers or robo/hang-up calls. I've learned to not even pick up most of the time since they're not worth my time, but this time someone answered right away - a man who identified himself as a Duquesne Light technician. He had been sent out on a call to disconnect my service and would be at the shop in 45 minutes. Service was to be shut off due to my failure to pay, which was news to me. I use auto pay so my bills are deducted without my having to think about it, and I feel foolish for not being more keenly aware of this activity in my bank account. However, there had been alarming high e-bill two weeks ago, though I'd called about it immediately and had them put a stop on the automatic drafts while they conduct a meter reading. He told me that notices had been sent, and when the final notice had also gone ignored, this was protocol. My first instinct was to protest, but time was not on my side and I had to leave. I've been wrong about these things before, and, like in the case of my home water bill, things had been sent to the wrong address due to clerical errors. I knew this was entirely possible. He gave me the number to call to have things straightened out. The amount I was told I owed matched what was on the e-bill from earlier this month. Before I knew it, I was taking Joshua in Accounts Payable's instructions to get cash so I could report to a payment site on Baum Boulevard. I had to make my delivery to Molly and then get Olive from school before I could do anything else, but I hadn't gotten all the facts. My phone's battery was low but I'd gotten the address of the payment office. I was to call Accounts Payable when I got to the office and would be given more detailed instructions at that point. I was getting regular calls from Joshua who told me that the call was being recorded because he needed to show he was on the phone with me to keep the technician from carrying out the shut-off. All I could think of were the ice cream sandwiches and pints in the chest freezer that would thaw if the shop lost power. OVER MY DEAD BODY. Matt, my pal and coverage at the shop, arrived while I was still on the phone with Joshua. He could sense my state of panic and immediate scooped Tulpen from me while I dashed out to the bank around the corner to withdraw the exact amount I needed to pay to keep my electric account in good standing: $998.54. I was grateful I had it, that I'd picked up the phone, that I'd been at the shop and not Matt, who wouldn't know what to do. I breathed a sigh of relief that I was that much closer to taken care of this unexpected bit of business. Having loaded bread, olive oil, and daughters into the car, I even stopped to survey the landscaping outside the shop for Marlowe's toys she'd left behind and retrieved them for her, before zipping out, twenty minutes behind schedule.

Roughly five minutes of downtime existed before I had to pick up Olive from school, which would have been an opportune time to research the validity of the claim that my account was, indeed, past due. But my battery had dipped below 10% and I needed to keep it on to field Joshua's calls while still conserve enough battery for the final call to process my payment. The three girls were on our way to the payment office on Baum, twenty minutes from Olive's school, when I got a third call from Joshua since leaving the shop. "Do you know when you'll be there?" he asked, seeming impatient. I had told him every time we'd spoken when I'd be there. 4 o'clock. I began to get testy. "Have you listened to nothing I've said? I had plans today. Plans that could not be altered. I had no notice. I'm doing the best I can." He apologized and said that he had to ask since the call was being recorded. We made it at the agreed upon time, and we circled around the area on foot looking for an office. When I saw the address posted on the door I was certain I'd taken down the wrong number. It was a Rite Aid. I called Joshua and I stared around, bewildered, searching for an enclave labeled for Duquesne Light use. "That's right," he told me. "Go to where to the prepaid cards are near the front." I found them. "Now get two MoneyPak cards and bring them to the cashier. Have him put $500 on one and $498 on the other." He had neglected to tell me that there was a fee for the cards, for which I did not have cash, so I used the ATM in the store. The cashier looked concerned and asked me what this was for. "Oh, just paying my Duquesne Light bill to avoid service shut-off. The system was down so I couldn't pay online or over the phone." Though I was telling Joshua how COMPLETELY SHADY all of this was as I withdrew money from the ATM to pay the difference, I left feeling like the transaction was somehow legitimate. My shame and embarrassment at my stupidity horrify me as I recount the events of the day, but it wasn't until I got back to the shop where Rob was and told him that I'd gotten it cleared up did the fog begin to clear and the realization that I'd been taken started to settle in. No longer being in a rush, I sat down on the shop phone to put in a call to Duquesne Light. It was a different than the Duquesne Light I'd been calling for the past four hours. Clearer. LEGITIMATE. A company that gives its customers SEVENTY-TWO HOURS' NOTICE, not 45 minutes', before terminating service. The representative assured me that my account was not in default.

I felt ill. I had just thrown away over $1000. Money that would have been put to good use for the business. Money that, had I been in a more comfortable place, could have done a whole heck of a lot of good for the flood victims in Texas and Louisiana. I can't think about it. Rob told me to just let it go. I should. It's only money that can be made back. But it's the way it was taken from my trusting hands that pains me so. Still, I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that I didn't have to sacrifice too much to get it. A few hours of stress. My children will not miss any meals. But the thing I appreciate most is how Rob responded to my foolishness. He did not shame me or make me feel worse than I was already feeling. This is how he is. I had great difficulty falling asleep last night (I am now writing the morning after), and kept trying to push out thoughts of my conversation with the scam artists by reminding myself how truly lucky I am to be with someone so calm, patient, and kind. Someone who doesn't believe in punishing me for acting on impulse and forgetting reason. I am out not an insubstantial bit of money, but what matters most to me is still very much in tact.

Solo Parenting

I gave myself a taste of flying solo with two small children two weeks ago when I took the girls on a breakneck trip down to Maryland and North Carolina to visit family and friends. Aside from Olive not napping and Marlowe being a poor traveler (unlike her sister, who would probably trek across the Sahara Desert with me and utter not a word of complaint), we got along just fine. Still, it wasn't easy to be at the helm without Rob for four days. I figured it'd be good practice for when he left us for seventeen days to go to see his family in Alaska. Zoe got in late last night/early this morning, we got a few hours of sleep, then woke at 4 to get them back to the airport by 5:30 so they could head off to Anchorage. Fortunately the girls and I all got in good, long naps today. The three of us went to our shop for a few hours this evening so I could get some work done. I was pretty proud of my accomplishments given my company: I assembled Olive's bed (one of the two rooms upstairs will be for the girls and we'd like for Olive to be able to continue her naps there), sanitized 45 bottles, and bottled 5 gallons of coconut mango balsamic with a fussy Marlowe strapped to me. After we got home, I helped Olive get ready for bed and we read her favorite book, Bread and Jam for Frances. Marlowe went down just as easily and I had the rest of the evening to clean the kitchen, normally Rob's job. It was really satisfying to end the day in such a way and think I may get into the habit of cleaning before bed.

I've not been looking forward to Rob's trip, but my schedule is so packed that I'm sure the time will zip by and he and Zoe will be back before we know it.

Four Sweet Years

Yesterday Rob and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary. Two girls and one business venture later, we're still happy as can be and I can't imagine what my life would be now without him. We went out for the first time since before having Marlowe (our good friend, Alex, graciously offered to come stay with them in exchange for a bottle of her favorite olive oil) and enjoyed a terrific dinner at Legume, a restaurant in Oakland specializing in local fare. We ate ourselves silly, capping off our dinners of pork, chicken-friend tempeh, and parsnip soup, fried barley and tallow fries with baked Alaska and rice pudding with rosemary caramel and granola. We made the right choice.

Baby Laughs

I've been finding it hard to complete blog posts lately (I've started many!), between caring for a 3 year-old and 3 month-old and readying our store to open for business in the coming month, but I had to share this footage I captured today. Snaker, as we've taken to calling Marlowe (Olive gave her the nickname and it stuck), gave me her first real laugh yesterday so we've been having fun getting her to keep the chuckles coming. Oh, she's mighty sweet!

And Then There Was a Three Year-Old

Twelve short days after greeting Marlowe we found ourselves parents of a three year-old.  That milestone is monumental, the difference between two and three enormous.  This was only heightened by seeing Olive and Marlowe side by side; compared to the tiny infant Olive is gigantic.  She's always been a sturdily built kid, but now she's downright huge, and while she's a bit clumsy when it comes to having a baby around, she's every bit as sweet as she's always been.

Though we didn't plan anything special for her birthday this year since we were still caught up in the chaos of managing life with one more, we decided the day before to celebrate with a trip to the Children's Museum, a place that will become more and more exciting for her as she gets older, and a hot dog dinner at Franctuary (our gal doesn't eat meat but delights in a veggie dog with mustard).  The museum trip got put on hold because, miraculously, she went down for a nap (her first in nearly a week!), but we all enjoyed our dinner then returned home and cozied up on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn and watched half of Disney's Robin Hood.  I think she had a really nice day.

How gleefully she greeted her birthday!

Holding that duckie Marlowe - one of her favorite things to do as a big sister

Coloring at Franctuary

 Pleased with her dinner - veggie sausage topped with relish and spicy mustard (that had to be scraped off) and fries

 More love for that little one

Welcome Home, Marlowe!

It came as news to some when we announced her arrival on Sunday morning, but we'd been eagerly awaiting the day since learning of her existence on June 5th last year.  There were even family members who had a hard time believing that we were expecting another member of our household sometime around Valentine's Day.  You see, we'd thought we might be "one and done", as they say, after Olive because, honestly, we had it pretty darn good with her.  She was a delightfully easy baby and has continued to be very mellow and virtually void of challenges. I'd been able to convince myself that she was all I wanted but a little over a year ago I started experiencing a nagging of wanting one  - just one - more.  As I watched Olive grow and develop, seeing the type of person she was becoming, how much she had to give, I saw that she needed a sibling; we needed another child.  I just had to make Rob believe this as strongly as I did.  A few weeks after approaching him with my life-changing request, the giving husband that he is, he agreed.

Last Thursday, February 7th, at my 39th week mark, I began experiencing contractions before going to bed.  Since I could differentiate between those and the Braxton-Hicks I decided it was time to set up the pool.  Rob inflated it and later, after he'd gone to bed, I stayed up to fill it.  After making twenty trips (I was keeping a tally on the dry-erase board) to fill it with the stock pot because the adaptor for the hose wouldn't fit our faucet, I called it a night at 3:30.  I woke at 7:30 with much stronger contractions so I got up to move around, hoping to alleviate them.  There came a knock at the door which turned out to be our friend, Alex, arriving to assist.  She fed Olive breakfast while I did morning things, then she, Olive, and I went out for a short walk.  As we neared the house Warren, another friend, showed up.  Rob ran out to Home Depot for another adaptor for the hose and then we commenced filling the tub (we should have learned from our last experience that filling the tub is a task best left till the last minute).  Later in the morning Ellen, our newly-hired midwife, arrived and gave me some herbal remedies to expedite labor and calm my contractions.  After several hours of increasingly strong contractions Ellen examined me to find that I had not dilated at all, so she went home, as did Alex and Warren.  I didn't sleep at all that night and wound up calling Ellen again around midnight.  I didn't want to bring her over again unnecessarily but this time it seemed that things were really transitioning into more active labor.  at 3:30 am she arrived and the hours that followed were a blur.  Another group of friends who planned on being present during the labor, Shauna, Maria, and Mark, were at a sustainable agriculture conference in State College, several hours away, but left on Saturday morning to get to our house.  They showed up around lunchtime being coconuts (I'd expressed a desire for fresh coconut water months back), and their being there was immensely soothing.  What was less than calming was Olive, so I called Kellie to see if they'd mind keeping her for a few hours.  She agreed and Rob went at met her so they could go on a family outing.  After talking to Kellie, who offered the suggestion her midwife had given her: to pump for 30 minutes and walk for 30 minutes and alternate, Shauna, Maria, Rob, and I set off on another of many walks around the neighborhood.  It was true that this method intensified contractions, thus facilitating labor.  Food was ordered from Smiling Banana Leaf, our neighborhood Thai restaurant, but my appetite was shot; I only ate a bite of broccoli from my green curry.  At 6 pm Ellen checked me and I was still only 2 cm dilated but because of the thinness of my cervix she was able to stretch me to 4.  Soon after I was at 6 and it was time to get into the pool.  It felt heavenly and I was pleased to have made it that far (during Olive's labor I was never able to set foot in the pool we'd prepared).  The warmth and weightlessness of the water was just what I needed and it allowed me to more easily breathe through my stronger contractions.  Fortunately, though more painful than with Olive's birth, none of these lasted more than 90 seconds.  I had a few with Olive that lasted well over ten minutes at their peak - one lasted a full twenty minutes - so this was far more manageable.  Olive was brought back to us just past her bedtime, making it easy for Rob to put her straight to bed and allow me to continue to labor without worrying about her well-being.  The tub was beginning to wear on me after a while.  I was watching the hours tick past and soon it was ten o'clock.  I'd been in the pool for nearly four hours and, despite taking breaks to pump, contractions were slowing which wasn't altogether encouraging.  What I needed most was rest since it was Saturday night and I'd only had about four hours of sleep since Thursday.  I climbed, water-logged, from the tub and stumbled into bed beside Rob and Olive (she'd been put to sleep in our bed so a friend could use hers if necessary).  After I retired Shauna, Maria, and Mark left and Ellen curled up on our couch, but not five minutes after I went to bed the contractions ramped up again, coming in shorter intervals.  I tried my best to breathe through them and not carry on like I wanted to, so as not to wake Olive, but I couldn't bear them any longer so went to her empty bed and wailed like a beaten cat.  It was at that point that I sensed another trip to the hospital was in our future.  I woke Ellen who offered to break my water since that would likely put things on the fast track to delivery. I was still at 6 cm and I got back in the tub to welcome Marlowe, or so I imagined.  The pain was dizzying and each time a wave came over me I had to fight the overwhelming urge to bite.  Rob knelt by the side of the tub holding my hand and at one point I nearly took his hand in my teeth, then considered biting the inflatable tub and wound up biting my own hand instead (something I hadn't done since I was probably five; my mom would know better than I would).  Breathing calmly through the pain made no noticeable difference to me and only required more determination and effort.  I told Ellen I wanted to go to the hospital.  "You'll regret it," she told me, but I knew that I wouldn't.  My grand plan of having a home birth, already thwarted once, was becoming less and less important to me.  All I wanted at that moment was to have her out of me.  Once Ellen said that she wasn't going to keep me from going, I got out of the pool and went to my room to gather some things to bring with me to the hospital (I grabbed three pairs of underwear and an extra shirt, all unnecessary items for the trip I was about to take).  Rob called Alex who, at 1:30 am, had just retired so was still lucid enough to make a quick getaway to come stay with Olive.  Ellen drove me over to Magee Women's Hospital in Oakland, a 15-minute drive, while Rob waited for Alex and Keith to arrive.  As soon as we got there I was checked in and wheeled into a room.  Never before had I been so devoid of my senses.  I was on the floor when the man with the wheelchair came to get me in the lobby.  I was screaming at the nurses to get me medicine to quell the pain.  Whatever they finally gave me made me woozy and sleepy but didn't seem to dampen the sensations, and I begged for something stronger.  The epidural was the next step and, without giving it a second thought (something that Rob and I seriously discussed together the last time), I agreed.  Taking that shot is something I do really well, if I do say so; I sat calmly, still as a statue, ready to receive the promised relief and, minutes later, there it was.  Shortly afterward the doctor came in to talk to me about the likelihood of me having another c-section.  Admittedly, the thought of this was appealing.  Cesarians, while far from ideal, don't send me screaming, either.  Having had one before I can talk about them from either side, but I truly did appreciate being able to relax with Rob by my side while our daughter was being plucked from my womb.  This particular doctor's approach, however, was what was so off-putting to us.  When I told him that I'd prefer to wait a little longer before electing to have the procedure done, he was incredulous that I'd rather wait until the moment my baby was in danger before deciding to have surgery.  He went on to chide me for not doing my research on that particular hospital's policies, then used scare tactics like a possible hysterectomy to further sway us to his way of thinking.  Rob chimed in and called him on his bullying.  The man wasn't hearing a bit of what I had to say and was shooting down all of my logic.  We told him that we wanted to talk about it alone before reaching a decision so he left us.  We agreed that he was being unreasonable, but also sensed that he knew my situation better than I did and really, who were we to gamble with the outcome of this pregnancy.  Even Ellen agreed that it was probably the safest call.  I was still maintaining the same 6 cm dilation and it didn't seem as though things were going to change with that, so we gave the go-ahead.  Within fifteen minutes the doctor had gathered his team of surgeons, Rob was given his suit and cap to wear, and I was wheeled into the OR.  I felt not a thing but the ache in my neck, shoulders, and upper back, soreness from hauling pots of water to the pool a few nights before.  Then the surgeons announced the gender, which we already knew, but there was always the slight chance that we were wrong.  She was out.  Marlowe Magnolia Nell, born at 6:52 am on February 10th, weighing a slight 7 pounds and 2 ounces and measuring a long 21.5 inches (Olive was 7 lb 14 oz and 21 inches long by comparison).  Though we requested that he be the one to cut the cord, Rob wasn't asked to come complete the task.  The sewing up part took far longer than it had before - over an hour was spent piecing me back together and sticking me up.  Rob held onto our tiny child while I dozed there on the table, then we were taken to our room.  Alex and Keith showed up shortly afterward and then we were relocated to our permanent room.  We enjoyed more visits from other friends, but most notable was Dylan, a friend who'd moved to DC to attend grad school over the summer.  He'd heard the day before that I was in labor so took a MegaBus to Pittsburgh the very next morning and was able to meet Marlowe on her birthday. So special.
I spent two nights at Magee Women's Hospital with Marlowe.  Rob and Olive came to stay during the day but left each night at Olive's bedtime.  I really appreciated the hands-off approach they used there, allowing Marlowe to sleep in the room with me (the hospital in Machias, Maine, where Olive was born, insisted that either Rob or I be awake all night in order for her to stay in our room with us). All checkups and tests were conducted in the room right beside me.  When the pediatrician came in to check on Marlowe she was concerned that she'd had only one wet diaper and strongly urged me to give her a bottle of formula.  Understanding that our plan was to avoid formula, our nurse discouraged it and said that Marlowe was fine; she'd produce a wet diaper soon enough, and she was right.  Though the doctor who did the c-section was pushy, I didn't find that to be the case with the rest of the staff there and left feeling pleased with my care there.

It's been nearly two weeks now since Marlowe was born.  I'm still healing from the surgery and will continue to do so for the next few weeks, I imagine.  It's a slow process this way, but I don't regret the way things turned out.  Perhaps I jinxed myself by being so overly confident in my ability to have a home birth.  It really doesn't matter, though, in the end.  She's healthy, gaining weight at a steady rate, and I'm on the mend, so the route taken to get to where we are is inconsequential.  Olive is assuming her role with grace and a surprising lack of outright jealously.  It's clear that she's pretty enamored with the little big-eared thing we brought home and takes every chance she's given to cradle and hug her.  That's what I wanted most of all - for Olive to weather the transition from being an only child to older sibling with as few bumps as possible, and so far she's amazed us.  So far, so very, very good.

Our Third Winter

I've started and abandoned countless blog posts since returning from Europe three and a half months ago.  It seems I can't find the chunk of time to devote to the writing that I'd like to do, and if I'm interrupted I lack the motivation to pick up where I left off.  Winters tend to be quiet in our house with not much to report, but then I realize that, with a little girl who's just about to turn three in a couple of weeks, there's actually lots to say!

Currently we're in the throes of potty-training which is going really well.  We held off on it for a long time, even though a small potty has been sitting in our bathroom for nearly a year and a half.  I stocked up on some underwear for her to give her an incentive to use it and so far she's really taken to it (she used it successfully five times yesterday and had two accidents - a pretty good ratio, I'd say).  I don't expect a full transition anytime soon, however.  All in good time.

She's really mastered her recognition of the United States - I honestly can't think of any that she can't answer at this point - and has moved on to countries in Africa and South America.  It's so fascinating to watch a child at this age and learn what interests them the most.  She's also taken a liking to Legos so Rob and I have been on the hunt on eBay for more sets so she can expand her collection and possibilities for building.  Her favorite part is dismantling the structures but really, whatever suits her is fine with us.

We've let down our guard on the movie watching a lot lately, too.  We held fast to the no-watching-before-two policy but lately, especially with her accompanying me to work at least one day a week, it's nice for her to have a distraction.  She really favors Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, a gift from Mimi and PopPop, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and sings songs and quotes lines from both quite a bit.  My favorite?  "God bless us - every one!"  She once blurted this out at a party while friends, bowls of soup in hand, gathered in a circle to eat.

Last month Rob started a filmmaking class through Pittsburgh Filmmakers which he attends every Tuesday evening.  He's long had an interest in film so I'm pleased that he's able to take advantage of what's offered here in our city.

My extracurricular weekly activity has been, for the last year now, Pub Quiz night at Brillobox, a bar a few neighborhoods over from where we live.  It's extremely challenging and, thus, that much more satisfying when our team places in the top three (last week we came in third with only two of us present!  3rd prize is a free appetizer which, in our opinion, is the best deal of all).  Friendships here have continued to deepen and are, by far, the best part of living here.

I've been running a bit more in anticipation of marathon #5 on May 5th.  Though this has been our coldest and snowiest winter since living in Pittsburgh, I've still found some breaks in the weather to go out.  Last week we had a couple-day warm spell where we enjoyed temperatures in the 60s!  It's difficult to not run when it's that unseasonably nice outside.  This year I'll be running to raise funds for a different cause: The Maya Organization, a local nonprofit founded and run by our landlady, which allocates funds for adoptive and birth parents, facilitating the process for families seeking to grow through adoption, something that is so meaningful to me after my parents' adopted my brother Roma from Russia nearly eleven years ago.  I encourage you to donate to this charity by clicking on the link:
http://www.crowdrise.com/TeamMayaOrgPittsburgh2013/fundraiser/heathercramer

We're still working on plans for an upcoming - hopefully springtime - move for the business.  Nothing's yet been signed and set in stone, so I'll hold off on making any official announcements, but it's an exciting, and often anxiety-inducing, process.  But after two and a half years in what has been sort of an incubation location, we feel like our business is ready to stand on its own two feet (four feet?  six feet?  It's hard to say).  We've been scouting storefronts closer to home that would make walking practical and have had some pretty encouraging leads.  Having close friend who is a contractor also gives me peace of mind as far as the necessary renovations are concerned.

That's all for now.  Stay tuned for more on the move and the marathon!