Customer surveys and true customer satisfaction

Whenever we go to restaurants nowadays, we always seem to be given customer survey cards. Now, I've noticed that not all the tables are given these surveys. I have to wonder why they give them to us. Is it obvious I'm that much of a complainer? I've been known to cry in frustration when a salesman at the hardware store talked down to me in his "little missy" voice. I'm a girl, I'm not stupid.

So I complained. I told the manager how I'd been treated and then walked out, promising to buy from their direct competition even if I had to walk 2 blocks in the rain. I did.

There was a span of time where I kept finding hair in my food. It became an awful joke. I'd dig through pastas, salads and cakes to see what my "prize" that day was. I sent back each plate and had the food replace. I'm terrified to think of what invisible things I've eaten.

I'm usually very truthful on these cards, if I see a roach, I write it down. I find that very few of the cards have enough space for my comments.

Last week, we were at a Chinese restaurant and I diligently filled out the card. My son seemed to disagree on how I graded them.

Here he is, erasing all my marks.

Mother as translator

My little Hero has been growing so quickly these past few weeks. She's a year and 5 months old and I can't believe how much she says!

She enjoys putting big books on the floor and standing on them, like a little stage. As soon as she steps onto one, she says, "eeeh--- full!" (Trans: "Careful!") And then she busts out her own version of Eensy Weensy Spider.

Even her brother understands what she's saying. He used to resist listening to her, insisting that whatever she was speaking was not English. "Maybe she's talking Chinese, Mama. I don't know that."

 Recently, she's been mimicing the last word of our sentences. So conversations go a bit like this:

"Hero, do you want taho?"

"Ta-ho!"

"Eat?"

"Eat!"

And so on.

Then there are moments when she repeats a word, pointing and emphatically gesturing towards nothing. This moring, I was carrying her out of the bedroom, telling her about what we'd have for breakfast and she began clucking like a chicken.

"Bukbuk buk!"

"No Hero, we're having pancakes! You can dip it in your yogurt, it's yummy!"

"Keee- ken!" (That means chicken)

"You want to have chicken for breakfast?"

She then squirms out of my grasp and reaches for the stack of books by the door. I take them down and she moves some aside, pulling out a lift-the-flap book that we had read together the night before. On the cover, a group of animals. No chicken. But as she turns the book over, she points to the spine. A rooster. Content, she takes my hand, look up at me and says, "Ooohgut? Ummy."

That means, "Yougurt, yummy."

losing it

Last night, I lost it. I mena, really really lost it.

I am a fairly even-tempered and calm person. I don't shout too often and when I do, it is usually follwed by taking the person aside and calmly talking about it.



Both kids are sick right now and I stayed up with them the previous night. My kids have a predisposition towards febrile seizures (convulsions when they get fevers) and my son has already had 3 in the past. Sleep-deprived, I trudged off to work. I wanted to get a coffee (I probably have only had 2 coffees in the past 2 years) because of the chance that I'd nod of while working with my 1st grade students. But the line was too long and I was going to be late. So I left the coffee shop and rushed to work... only to find out that my 1st period students were on a field trip and I didn't even have to be at school that early. Pisser.

So I did some work and lost track of time. I was late to my 2nd period class. Grr.

The rest of the day went ok, but my lunchmeat had spoiled and I only had dry toast for lunch. My hubby wasn't going to be home till almost 10 because he had class for his masters.

When I got home, I find out that the kids had not been put own for naps and my son had been allowed to play on the computer for 3 hours. 3 hours! He'd even been given his breakfast in front of the computer.

So my wired son and my feverish daughter were (needless to say really) very demanding in the afternoon. It was too late for naps, and the chocolate (chocolate!) that they'd been given while I was at work was not helping. (Ok, seriously, who gives a kid with a cold and cough frozen chocolate??)

So after a fairly calm dinner, they had their medecines, baths, and milk, they went wild. My 1 year old was howling, inconsolable. My 3 year old was jumping on the bed, throwing pillows and running everywhere, refusing to listen. Bouts of coughing, noses wiped on my tshirt and one minute in his "quiet corner" came soon after. There was no quiet. They both wanted water, and when I brought them out to the icebox, my mom came out to see what the ruckus was about. Upon seeing that their audience had expanded to ever-doting grammy, the other antics came into play. Ty took all the pillows and blankets from my and my husband's bed, and tossed them onto his. He'd then jump into the pile, screaming, "Whee! I'm having so much FUUUNNN!!"

Did I mention that it was almost 10pm? We'd been in the room from 8:20pm. And I'd only had 3 hours of sleep the night before?

My mom laughed, saying that he was adooooorrrable! Not so much. Now the 1 year old wanted to join in and stumbled onto the pile... quickly followed by my son on top of her. Pain and screaming follow.

I think that's where I snapped. The baby howled for her water bottle, and she didn't want me to open it for her. Howls of frustration, and I grabbed the top and threw it across the room. I shouted, "Stop it!"

My mom was livid. She scolded me for shouting at the kids like that. I'd had it. I literally pushed my mom out of the room, but still politely saying that I'd got it covered ad she could go.

I sat on the floor and broke down. In Tagalog, hagulgol. Cries game in coughs and gasps. I hit the back of my head against the closet door several times.

And it was silent.

My kids were watching me.

Ty came from across the room and sat beside me. He took my hand and cooed, "It's ok Mama. Ty's here."

Little Hero patted me on the head and said "Sowi, sowi." She wiped my tears. She used the hem of my night shirt, but still.

I took them in my arms and apologied poured from my mouth. I promised to try harder, to be more patient.

"Mama, I'll sing you a lullabye." said Ty.

And as he sang Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, Hero swayed and hummed along.

It was only when my hubby got home that the kids fell asleep. I was exhausted. But I learned something very important last night.

No matter how crazy things get, my kids are tuned into what really matters.

sandboxes part 2

Here are the kids playing in a sandbox at their cousin's birthday party. The little kids had to use a sieve to find little jewels.

sandboxes

We found a huge sandbox at the mini-zoo.

Every time Ty visits me at work, he runs into my classroom to give me a hug and then runs off to the pre-school area to play with their sandbox.

Hero wasn't quite sure what to do with the sand. We often call out, "eee, dirty!" when she touches things like the bottoms of shoes, the dog bowl or picks things up off of the floor. I think she was waiting for me to shout in these pictures.

She got into it after a while.

Ty was an old hand at it.

I like it when my kids get to experience new things. For years I've been begging my hubby to let me build a sandbox for Ty. His answer always is, "And what will we do with all the cat poop we collect?"

He's right.

Unfortunately because of the huge population of ferral cats in Manila, a sandbox is just an open invitation to COME, POOP HERE!

Not a good place for kids to play.

sandboxes

We found a huge sandbox at the mini-zoo.

Every time Ty visits me at work, he runs into my classroom to give me a hug and then runs off to the pre-school area to play with their sandbox.

Hero wasn't quite sure what to do with the sand. We often call out, "eee, dirty!" when she touches things like the bottoms of shoes, the dog bowl or picks things up off of the floor. I think she was waiting for me to shout in these pictures.

She got into it after a while. I love it when they get messy.

My birthday celebration at the petting zoo

A few days after my birthday, hubby and I took the kids out to the petting zoo. Not a typical celebration for a now-34 year old, but we had fun. Here is a pic of me with my little man and the carrot on a stick that we fed to the guinea pigs.

Hero and I got some use of the carrot too. Or maybe Hero and I started with the carrot...

We moved on to goats and kangkong (water spinach). This ram had beautiful curved horns.

In the vermin pen. I admit, I'm afraid of these little buggers.

Hubby, not letting hte carrot go to waste.

Ty and the goats.