A few things helped me make that decision. One, I was healthier than I had been in a decade. Two, I couldn't afford $200 out of each paycheck to cover my portion of the benefits.
It wasn't always like that. I used to pay $35 per week to cover Jacob and I with the best insurance money could buy. Then the insurance companies started hiking rates for reasons that we could debate all week long and people like me ended up getting screwed.
I was happy with my new insurance. I needed to pick a primary care physician so I picked a friend of mine who happens to be a doctor. Yes, I do think it's funny that I have a few friends that are real-live doctor doctors. Medical specialist types, not just "I went to school for English Literature longer than you can imagine" doctors. Being friends with doctors and doing friend-type things with doctors makes me wonder what the doctors who aren't my friends are doing on their downtime. Because, whoa.
Same with teachers.
Speaking of teachers, Jacob's grandmother is now living with his teacher's boyfriend. It's not as weird as it sounds. Small town living sounds funny when you write it down.
It's like when I found out in tenth grade after three months of dating that my boyfriend was my cousin. And we kept dating. There were a few "once/twice/thrice removed"'s and "by marriage"'s in there.
He told me he had to cancel our date because his cousin died and his mom was making him go to the funeral. I told him my cousin died too but I wasn't going to the funeral because funerals are weird. Then there was some nervous laughter and an ah-ha moment but after we did the family math we realized that it was his dad's cousin who married my dad's cousin and they had a daughter together and that's the one who died. All good. Now I don't even remember her name. Or how she died. Leukemia or one of those other teenage-death-scenarios.
In the case of Jake's grandmother, there is no one removed or married. Her brother is dating Jake's teacher and she moved into his house.
And the barber will pull your tooth if it's giving you problems.
So now I have cut-rate health insurance and a baby on the way. No planning for this sort of thing sometimes turns out to be bad planning. Which sort of blows because now I have to go to clinics to have my blood drawn and tests run and get referrals for ultrasounds and stuff.
I also have a social worker.
I have a social worker. A Blue Cross Blue Sheild appointed social worker. She calls me to make sure I'm supported by the baby's dad or another man who doesn't beat me and not using drugs or slitting my wrists or puking uncontrollably or experiencing contractions or eating lunchmeat or whatever. And I answer all her questions with no's mostly except for the ones that should be yes answers and we thank each other for one another's time and she says she will call back in a few months and maybe she will come see me in the hospital and I can call her anytime I need her.
It's weird to be on the other end of the line during those calls. I get nervous. Sweaty. Giggly. I want to be all offended that someone thinks I need this service and be all "bitch, you don't know me. who the hell do you think I am?" but she's so nice that I actually enjoy the calls. I treat her the way I want clients to treat me, which I think is what I'm supposed to do. I Golden Rule the shit out of this relationship. Truth be told, it's nice to have someone who doesn't know me call me and make sure that I'm safe and happy and well. We should all have social workers.
Oh, and about the clinic. Holy crap. I was there for my glucose test and the lady behind the front desk wouldn't even try to call us back by name. She would just stand there and spell our names. I thought for sure she would at least take a stab at my name but no.
"L...O...R...A?" "L...O...R...A? Mc-Something-eeEE?"
Yes. That's me. The least Irish person in the world with an even less Irish name.
El Oh Are Eh? McSomethingy
I'm not sure whether it was all a refection of the reading skills of the receptionist or the naming skills of the patient's mothers.
Oh, and about names. Jacob is once again the only Jacob in his class, despite Jacob being the number one boy's name in 2006. There's two or three in the whole school. I volunteered at his school last week and made note of the kids who sit at his table with him. There's
Vowels removed to protect the innocent, but you should be able to figure it out. There are more Santino's and Vincenzo's and Salvatore's and Lorenzo's and such than Jacobs or Matthews or Johns in the school. I think we'll be pretty safe with Nicholas too, although I think there are two or three others enrolled from K-8. Lots of Nico's though.
I will definitely not be naming my child Nico.
Not that there is anything wrong with that. It's cute.
It's just not for me.
Oh, and also in names and kids. I was working with kids earlier this summer and a little girl came and sat on my lap and read my name tag.
"L...O...R...A! What's that spell?" (she gets a break with the spelling. She's 3)
"My name is Lora and I'm 36 years old. What's your name?"
"N...E...V...E...A...H! That spells Neveah and it is NOT heaven spelt backwards 'cause my mom can't spell for SHIT! I'm 3 and I know how to spell 'heaven'".
I have a very long theater run coming up in October if you're interested in coming out. Here's the first of a few teaser trailer things. I'd embed, but I'm not allowed to go to You Tube at work so I can't get the code and the best I can do is have you click here to go to the video.
It should be a good time, and mostly child friendly. I let Jake come to a show last Halloween, and he still talks about it being the best thing he's ever seen outside of television. Though I think he's a little biased.