Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Letter to My Boys

When each of my boys turned one, in lieu of gifts we asked our friends and family to donate an interesting item to a time capsule that they will open on their 16th birthday. I intending on contributing a letter (handwritten of course) to say how special they each are to me, and lay out my hopes and dreams for them. Well, until now there was nary a letter to be seen. Every time I thought about what to write, it just didn't feel right. The sentences always started "I hope you..." or "I want you..." and I would immediately think about the expectations I am putting on them. There is no way to know what life will bring. What happens if they opened that letter at 16 that said "I hope you always do well in school" but they just failed their second semester of Algebra. The other day I began thinking about what I really hope for them, beyond the superficial; the things that really matter in this world aren't report cards or home runs. They aren't accomplishments, but ways of being, and I have a vital responsibility in creating the environment those "ways of being" can flourish within. Finally I have my letter to my boys.


Dear M & B,

I hope I have taught you that it’s okay to always be yourself; you have the right to express yourself freely without fear of judgment. I hope I’ve nurtured your confidence enough to weather what judgment may come, and the wisdom to value the opinions of those who love you above those who judge. I hope I’ve modeled tolerance and that my example has showed you how to embrace differences and respect all people. I hope I’ve passed along the importance of doing the right thing (even when it’s hard and unpopular), standing up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. I hope I’ve taught you compassion for those in need, and above all else to love unconditionally. I hope I’ve shown you that although this world is never fair and often disappoints, there is always a reason to be grateful. Most of all, I hope I’ve filled your heart with love and kindness and mercy. 

Love, 
Mom


Saturday, July 14, 2012

Calling Customer Service: You're Doing It Wrong.

It becomes more and more apparent every day that most people lack the proper amount of common sense. This generally directly affects me only occasionally. When it comes to being at the receiving end of about 50 phone calls a day, however, I am beginning to lose all hope in humanity. So, I've decided to provide the world with some general guidelines to follow should you ever find yourself calling or emailing customer service/tech support. You're Welcome.

1. Have your account number available. This just screams OBVIOUS to me, but the sheer number of morons that call me without this handy little tidbit  proves otherwise. Depending on where you are calling, you are one of a MILLION customers. Telling me you are Linda from Smith's Company does not help me locate your account. At all.

2. Keep the attitude about verifying information to yourself.  We live in a world in which there are way to many liars and thieves. We ask you to verify information for your protection. But, if you prefer to not confirm WHAT WE ALREADY HAVE ON FILE, I'll gladly give your home phone number to the next Joe Schmo that asks for it.

3. If your mind has been temporarily inhabited by and asshole, hang up. Yes, the company sucks. So do their 'policies and procedures'. And guess what else.... the person with whom happenstance has connected you probably feels the same way you do. But it's a J.O.B. and, just as you are, they are trying to get by. The amount of jerk you are directly correlates to the mount of shit they give to your predicament... which translates into you're problem is less likely to get solved.

4. If you're in a hurry, consider calling when you're not. The average length of a service call is between 7 and 10 minutes. That doesn't include the fancy recording that answers first and asks you a million questions. If you're situation is especially complicated, it may take even longer. If you want your issue handled correctly, you need to exercise a little patience. If you're fresh out for the day, call tomorrow.

5. Please speak up. We generally wear crappy headsets that have a very limited amount of volume control. If you notice the representative asking you to repeat yourself, it is not because they are a moron. It's because you aren't speaking loudly enough, or very clearly, or both. And for the love of all that's holy, don't call while you're chasing storms or while your three year old is in the midst of an epic tantrum. One fault of technology is that the microphones on cell phones pick up background noise much better than your voice.

6. The proper way to end a phone conversation... is to wait until the other person has completed their sentence and then say Goodbye. Hell, I don't even care if you say "thank you" anymore. Just don't HANG UP ON ME while I am completing the scripted ending of my call. I know hearing "we appreciate your business" does not always sound sincere, especially since your probably the 35th person I've said it to today. But I have just done something to help you, or at the very least I've listened to you complain for 30 minutes. Return the favor. Be polite.


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

My Kids Are Cuter Than Your Kids

Let me just get this out in the open. Just because I have children does not automatically bond us in friendship, or even acquaintanceship. More importantly, the display of photos of my kids on my desk is not an invitation to show me pictures of yours.

See, my kids are freaking cute. They may very well be the cutest, most adorable micro-humans on the face of the earth. They both have heart-warming smiles and twinkly little angel eyes. Their sweet little faces are just perfect. I keep their images at my desk because they bring me a little bit of joy and calm during my day of dealing with idiots. My shrine to these amazing little specimens is not to incite conversation from you. You may very well earn brownie points by complimenting my little guys. However, the second you pull out your phone (because who carries photos in their wallet anymore?) those points instantly disappear. Along with my respect. If I WANTED to see your heathens, I'd troll your desk... or Face Book page. But I don't. Because my kids are cuter than your kids.