I am so confused and elated.
So, the hubby agreed I needed a new phone to update my 10ish year old flip. My birthday was the event that sealed the deal. I did my homework and found a phone and plan that didn't break the bank (go Consumer Cellular! The old folks plan! AARP Discount FTW!) The website was a breeze to sign up. Super clear and easy to follow. Then they asked for my AT&T Wireless account number.
As far as I knew, that is my cell #. Right? I log on to the AT&T website, and then on to the Wireless site, then the Go Phone site and look up my account. First pain in the ass.
No sign of "account number" and just my cell #. Second pain in the ass.
OK, so I put that into the Consumer sign-up page. They send out my new Moto G (great discounted price!) and give me a tentative activation date of 3/20. Then I get the call from Consumer. They need my "account number" to transfer my old phone #. It's not my cell #. *sigh* 3rd pain in the ass. Not Consumer's fault.
So John calls AT&T Wireless because, apparently, they HIDE the account number on PURPOSE so you HAVE TO CALL THEM. 4th pain.
He gets the full court press to not switch. 5th pain. Including an offer to use our banked minutes to pay for our new plan. Oh? Plus they are able to match Consumer's pricing pretty closely. *double sigh* I already have my Moto G in hand. A&T asks, is it locked? John fiddles.
Yup. 6th pain. Locked phone. Pretty standard. He gets his options. We can send the new phone BACK to Consumer, cancel with them, buy the same phone, unlocked, from Amazon (for $50+ more) and go with AT&T and use our banked minutes to pay the bills. More than enough to pay for, like, a year of service. We can't refuse that offer. So John calls Consumer Cellular back to cancel with them and arrange to return the phone.
But wait...what's this? The super nice customer support guy GIVES JOHN THE UNLOCK CODE so I can keep my new phone and use it on ANOTHER SERVICE. What? WHAT?? John is now at an AT&T Wireless store to get a new sim card for my new phone so we can finally activate it with my old account info.
Stay tuned. That may be the 7th pain in the ass. But honestly, how awesome is Consumer? I am still scraping my chin up off the floor. I tell you what...when my AT&T minutes run out, I am going back to Consumer in a heartbeat. I was a customer for about 4 days but I love those guys. :D
Edit: *facepalm* Yep. I jinxed myself. The AT&T Wireless store was unable to unlock the phone. Something to do with it never being activated on any network and the Motorola database taking days to update and recognize activated phones. They did try to activate it with a random available phone number, then deactivate, then unlock and transfer...every permutation they could think of. SO...the phone is going back to Consumer and we got the same phone, unlocked, off Amazon, at a higher price. *le sigh* It would have been awesome if it had worked out.
Friday, March 21, 2014
I am so confused and elated.
Saturday, March 08, 2014
The more we read and discover about autism, the more I find myself saying, "But...I was just like that as a kid too. Still am." John often tells our son, "You are just like your Mother!" So, I started to wonder. By today's standards, would *I* fall on the spectrum?
As a kid, I had a hard time making and maintaining friendships. I usually only had one friend at a time. Friends were complicated and I seemed to hurt their feelings. A lot. I found the best kind of friends were girls who were passive and quiet. They were perfectly content to let me call the shots and dictate our play. I was highly imaginative and created elaborate scenarios for us to act out. I did LARP and CosPlay way before I even knew what the heck that was. *grin* But honestly, I would much rather spend my time just quietly reading a book in my room. People were hard. Being outside was hard.
I know my mother struggled to understand me. Brushing my teeth was a nightly battle. I hated it! I hated taking baths or showers. I could go days without even brushing my hair. I just didn't think about hygiene. It wasn't a priority. I HATED having my hair washed. My poor mother actually broke my front teeth on the edge of our steel kitchen sink trying to force my head under the water to rinse out the shampoo.
I wanted to spend time in my own little world. A world that I could control and function as I pleased. Being pushed out into the real world...going to school was hard. I never voluntarily raised my hand. I didn't talk. I kept to myself, head down, and just tried to survive each day. Yes, it made me a favorite target of the school bullies. I was weird! I stood out. Anything different must be crushed...that's how it felt to me. I was being crushed. Daily.
I wasn't a happy child. I coped as best I could and did manage to get good grades and survived all the way to college. I had a best friend who was just as damaged and different as I was. Sadly, she didn't survive.
Now I am the parent. In the beginning I tried to do all the things a regular parent is supposed to do. I brought my boy to playgroups, playgrounds and enrichment classes. He was indifferent, but never outright objected to it. He was ok with pre-school. He was managing in early elementary school. He didn't have very many friends and was "quirky" but he was getting by. I didn't push the hygiene thing. I left the tooth care to his daddy (and it was a major struggle).
He didn't seem as sensitive as I was. Not as emotionally fragile. I had hope that he would coast through school like I did and would ignore the "regular" kids. Not let their teasing and cutting remarks get to him, like I did.
My boy was fine. A little different, like me, but fine. Until he wasn't. He had learned to cope up to a point and then middle school hit. Every class was a change. So many decisions, things to keep track of, different schedules every day, so many teachers with different personalities, wants, and ways of working. He broke. School broke my baby.
A quote from the new DSM-5 makes so much sense - The onset of the symptoms is in the early developmental period (but deficits may not become fully manifest until social communication demands exceed limited capacities, or may be masked by learned strategies in later life).
I barely made it...pray that we can help my little man make it.
Posted by Becky at 7:05 PM