jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

Let me step back and talk about Christmas break.

We celebrated the Festival of Lights with a friend from work. I forgot the camera so you will have to trust that Alden can make short work of latkes. I asked friend Sarah how I could tweak the boys’ look in order to fit in with the tribe and she suggested circumcising them and then hot rolling Alden’s hair into peyos. We decided to go Gentile style.

(Those are NOT short pants. They rode up when he crawled across the bed.)

This was the first year Alden had any understanding of Christmas, so we decided to dive into the whole story.

I was the model of sanity, tidily buying each boy two moderate gifts and then a big one to share — a superdeluxe Radio Flyer wagon. All by December first. Then on December 23rd I lost my mind and decided we needed stockings and a Wall-E robot and new pajamas. So there was much scrambling. My mom showed up looking like she robbed a toy store and this was the final result.

Alden was overwhelmed.

He had to sit on the stairs and gather himself for a few moments.

Then he decided maybe he could rally in order to try out that wagon.

Before the boys took naps, we toasted Santa.

Are Alden and I wearing matching pajamas? You know we are!

I want to talk about a new year, resolutions and changes, but for now just a sneak preview.

Three firsts in the last 24 hours:

— Elliot wore shoes for the first time in his life today.
— Alden used a pillow and blanket for the first time in his life last night.
— I fell asleep before the ball dropped and so missed the big transition.

One resolution is underway. Alden is learning how to use the video camera.

(Sorry about the diaper.)

Damon went downstairs to check on a sleeping Alden. When he walked in, Alden sat up in his little bed and said, “The red ones and the blue ones are coming. They take away little boys.”

Now we are all upstairs and Alden is tucked into my mom’s bed. Because Damon and I are afraid of the red and the blue ones.

Tonight I was driving to the mall with Alden (because I am a FOOL) and trying to explain to him why we were going to buy stockings. I said, “Soon Santa will come while you are sleeping and will leave you presents.” Alden said, “Then I get the wagon?”

My plan for Christmas is to buy each boy a few small-ish gifts and then something bigger and cool for them to share. So I ordered a Radio Flyer from Amazon — the deluxe one with the two seats and a canopy, even. It showed up in a big box about three weeks ago. The box did have an illustration of a wagon on it, but we took it in without comment and stashed it. Nobody talked about it. It hasn’t been mentioned since. But I guess Alden spied that illustration and has just been waiting for its promise to manifest.

Also, I am living proof that people-who-shop-at-the-last-minute beggars cannot expect to be bargain-price-finding choosers.

And finally, a strange development in my insurance situation:
After I asked your advice, the first thing I did was avoid the whole thing for as long as I could. On the fifth day of the five days the anesthesiologist’s billing office had given me to decide if I wanted to pay the bill myself at a discount, at 4:45pm, I took a deep breath and called the insurance company again.

(The insurance liaison via HR would have been great, but we don’t have one. My experience with our HR has been spotty, so I figured I had better be prepared to go it alone.)

My plan was to sternly but politely insist on instructions for filing an appeal. The rep got on the line (After I navigated a zillion menus and then resorted to shouting “Representative! Representative!” at the automated system.) and I gave her my claim number. Before I got one more word out she said, “Oh, I see it. Yeah, this is wrong. We should have paid this. It’s not like you can pick your anesthesiologist, right? We’ll call them and tell them we’ll pay, so you shouldn’t hear from them again.” I am confused. And cautiously optimistic. Maybe it was someone from IT, or it was someone’s kid, or I dialed the wrong number, or I’m being Punk’d. Or maybe, maybe my insurance company is going to pay my medical bill as it should without forcing me through all seven circles of hell. That would be a nice Christmas present.

Hey gang —

I have an astronomical anesthesiology bill from Elliot’s birth. I’m about to call my insurance company to ask what gives, and I suspect what I’ll hear is that the doctor (who I had no hand in choosing) is out of network. Anyone have any advice on how to push back on that?

You know how in some movies you’ll see a dream sequence where one character chases another, and the subject of the pursuit is always vanishing around a corner? That was me and Alden in WalMart today.