Tuesday, 10 July 2012

a simple task

I've been arguing with medicare over a bill since February. The short version is they stuffed up and still owe me money. The long version involves multiple phone calls, trips to medicare offices, faxing paperwork, chasing down reprints of said paperwork and just a whole heap of bullshit in my opinion. Anyway! After going postal on the phone on Friday and refusing to hang up or be put on hold AGAIN until I had a resolution an appointment was made for me to attend an office and see the manager today. Only problem is I have the kids today. Ok, no worries, off we all went to medicare.

Monkey Man insisted on walking so I put the girls in the pram and he walked - a reasonably novice experience for him as I usually strap him into the pram or trolley. Things were going ok for all of 30 seconds, until we actually entered the shopping centre and were met by one of those skill tester games. He tried to be like Buzz and climb in the back of the machine. Bloody movie! Our first crisis was narrowly avoided by me hauling him backwards off the machine at a rapid pace.

We made it to our appointment and the first part of the problem was resolved - don't even get me started on why it couldn't have been done when I took the SAME PAPERWORK to the SAME OFFICE in March!?!??! Monkey Man was climbing all over the chairs, whether they were occupied or not. I heard him say something about 'boobies' and managed to grab his hand before he squeezed some lady on the boob - current annoying habit? He drew all over a desk, and his hand and then showed everyone his artwork. Meanwhile Missy Moo had pulled her hair out and was busy throwing her hair clips and bands all over the floor and Little Miss was trying to have a nap in the pram but finding it rather difficult as her sister kept kicking the back of her chair. We then went next door to the healthfund office and Monkey Man pulled a handful of dirt out of a pot plant, went behind a barricade and attempted to open an alarmed door. While I was being served, being told 'we have a problem' here I watched Monkey Man jumping in and out of the door sensors and trying to shut his arm in the door. I'm arguing with this woman over how I'm kinda over coming back here, phoning here to get what I am entitled to and a little voice says 'Mummy, I need to go toilet'. So I tell the woman we will be back and off we go to find a loo. After navigating a maze of corridors pushing the pram one handed while steering Monkey Man to the loo and out of cleaners cupboards we make it and he does nothing. Argh!!!

Back to the health fund office to be told it can't be resolved today and I'll have to come back another day. Ok then. We headed off to find a snack, and its a slow trip as he has to touch every door, every ATM, every rack of clothes on the way. We managed to walk past one of those junky type shops thats filled with licensed clothes, bags etc so Monkey Man has to 'check this shop' and shout rather loudly everytime he finds something new: 'look mummy, its Buzz!!' etc etc. The girls are getting restless and I'd like to get home before everyone loses the plot so I finally managed to bribe him with the promise of a donut if he leaves now. We find the food court, bingo is happening so Monkey Man walks straight up to the lady calling numbers and says 'you are very loud!'. I want the ground to open up and swallow me, now. We get a donut for everyone and sit down to eat it, although Monkey Man scampers while I attend to the girls and has sat next to a rather shady looking old man chatting away before I even realise he's gone.

If I'd had a free hand, and I knew he would stay in there, I would have happily tried this:

Our trip back to the car was equally as long, equally as entertaining and completed by a lay-down-on-the-floor tantrum because I wouldn't let him climb up a mannequin to take its 'batman shirt' nor would I let him shove his arm UP a vending machine to get the 'thomas drink'.... oh yes it was time to go home.

Will something as simple as going to medicare ever be easy again? When does it get easier to take children to the shops? Is there such a thing as a simple task once you have kids? Or am I kidding myself and need to find a way to accept my forseeable fate?



  1. Four words: I feel your pain! Sooo slow and sooo frustrating. Oh to just speed through the shops again!
    I am sure it gets easier... one day! :P

  2. Oh Liza, I feel your pain too. Max refuses to go in a pram or trolley at the moment too. It's gotten to the point where I hate going shopping and avoid it at all costs, normally until the point where we have run out of something like milk or toilet paper...


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