IKEA resolution

I was finally contacted by IKEA on Wednesday, one week after I sent the email off.  The manager over Smaland, M., had been away on personal leave, and the store manager has been on vacation.  (I wondered if that was the situation.)

The US IKEA policy to allow disabled diapered children in Smaland is a somewhat recent one, having taken effect last August.  However, Draper IKEA chose not to incorporate the change into their Smaland policies.  The explanation given was that the Draper store has the highest admittance of children into Smaland--an average of 22-30 children per hour, where most stores have 8-12 children a day.  Because diapered children have a greater risk of toilet accidents, they choose not to allow them in.  (They are currently "re-evaluating" this decision.  Because of me?  Who knows?)

(Aside:  I don't doubt that diapers and pullups can leak, and of course they aren't set up to change diapers there.  It just seems to me that you would have FEWER accidents with diapered children.  And I will just note that, when we went to IKEA on Thursday, the ball pit was closed because someone had piddled in it.  This isn't the first time my children have reported that.)

However, the Draper store does have a policy of taking reservations for disabled children.  (They reduce the ratio of children to workers whenever there is a disabled child at Smaland, hence the need for the reservation.)  M. apologized profusely that I was not given this option last Wednesday.  After asking when next I would be visiting the store, she then made an appointment for all of my children (except, of course, Yummy) and my niece Kay to be allowed into Smaland at two the next afternoon.

(Another aside:  My sister arrived at IKEA a couple of minutes ahead of me.  She checked at the Smaland desk to make sure we were expected, and told the employee there my name.  When she heard that, the employee turned to her co-worker and said, "Okay, Keryn is coming."  Apparently they were given special instructions about us, which included allowing the kids to stay in the play area for 90 minutes, instead of the usual half hour.  Which was awesome.)  Although Gee was disappointed by the aforementioned ballpit closure, he had a great time!

So.  Apparently the Draper IKEA's policy is a distinction without a difference, since they DO admit disabled children, but only with a reservation.  I am grateful for this information, and I am grateful for the assistance that we were given.  It was not the most pleasant experience, but I think that IKEA has stepped up and did everything they could to fix it.  I feel comfortable shopping there.

Thanks for all the sweet comments you all left for me, both on my blog and on facebook.  I am really grateful for such good friends!

Save the drama for your mama...

I'm grateful to live in this day and age.  Not only do we get indoor plumbing and high-speed internet, but nowadays, people are aware of and try to accommodate disabilities.  The ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) certainly helps in this respect, both legally and socially.  People are just better equipped to deal with disabilities anymore, and that's a very good thing.

What this means, however, is when I run smack up against an unreasonable restriction for my Gee, I'm less prepared for it.  I don't have defenses up, or coping strategies.  And that results in an emotionally draining and difficult time for this momma, not to mention to sadness and confusion and disappointment for my boy.

Today was such a day.  

The local (well, sort of local, it's about 50 minutes away) IKEA has a childcare playplace--maybe all of them do?--which allows you to drop off your children for an hour while you shop and they have a fabulous time.  Of course, there are restrictions--children have to be between 36 and 54 inches tall (or something like that), they have to be toilet-trained, and they have to be able to follow instructions.  It's a super fun place, and my older two have been regaling the younger boys with tales of the ball pit, and the swinging forest, and the movies, and the slide, and the general aura of fun and novelty in the "Småland" place.

As we prepare to build our house, Mema and I thought it would be fun to explore IKEA with an eye to our new needs.  Two of my sisters (LaDale, visiting from Colorado, and Telima) thought an outing would be fun.  Kay, my niece, is newly toilet-trained, as is Hebs.  What fun for them, to go to the playplace for the first time.  The only hitch was Gee--it would be really hard to let Hebs do something so fun, but not let Gee, the older brother, do the same.

Gee isn't, and won't be properly toilet-trained for a while.  A long while, if other children with spina bifida are any indication.  We are working on it, but it is a looooong process.  Rather than leave Gee out, my sister decided to call IKEA and find out if they have special accommodations for disabled children.  She spoke to a representative who informed her that disabled children, as long as they can remove their shoes (as all the children in Småland must), respond to instructions, and are the right height, are exempt from the toilet-trained rule.  Diapers or pull-ups are acceptable.

Great!  I finally felt comfortable enough to tell Gee and Hebs we were going to IKEA, and they would get to go into the playplace finally!  They were both suitably excited, and asked every ten minutes if it was time to leave yet.

We arrived at IKEA, removed everyone's shoes, filled out the paperwork, and waited for the Småland to open.  Gee kept talking about the ball pit, and Zee was thrilled to be able to show Gee around.  Finally, it was time!  We moved up to the counter and began getting wristbands and name stickers.  I mentioned to the employee that one of my sons is disabled, and wearing a diaper, but that he was totally checked out with the requirements.  

And that is when everything came to a screeching stop.

"Oh, he can't come in, then," the girl said.  "No diapers are allowed."

"Actually, we called ahead of time and we were told it was okay, so long as all the other requirements were met..."

She started shaking her head before I finished.  "No, I'm sorry, the rule is no diapers.  At all."  Her co-worker agreed.

I began to feel a little frustrated, but, honestly, I didn't expect them to know all the ins and outs of the policies.  "Could you ask a manager for me?  Because we did call and speak to an IKEA representative."

She quite happily did so.  It took some time, because the first two people she called were not at work today.  Meanwhile the line behind me grew longer.  Finally, she returned.

"I spoke to one of our managers, and we are very sorry, but the rule is no diapers.  I'm really sorry, he can't come in.  I can have him come down and talk to you, if you want."

Keep in mind, my children and niece (and my mother) were all gathered around me.  The children were not paying attention to the adult conversation--they were bouncing up and down, excited to be so close.  Gee kept tugging on my hand, asking when they would open the little door.

For a split second, I wanted to snatch the paperwork back from her, take the shoe-filled box, and tell her, "Then I guess IKEA doesn't need my money."  (Well, to be honest, they don't.)  But I knew I shouldn't, because Kay had worked hard to "earn" this outing, and the other kids shouldn't have to miss out, either. Blinking back tears, I turned to Mema.  "Will you get the other kids signed in?" I pulled Gee's DAFOs (his braces) and shoes out of the basket and took Gee's hand.  "Come with me, bud."

We walked over to the big window, across the big lobby from the Smaland entrance.  

"Momma, why are we walking over here?  Where are we going?  I want to go with Zee."

I didn't know how to tell him.  I was trying really hard not to cry myself, so I just said, "Gee, it turns out...you aren't going to get to go into the playplace.  I'm really sorry, but they won't let you in because you have to wear diapers."

His face just crumpled, and he started to bawl and bawl.  I scooped him up and cuddled and whispered and cried a little, myself.  I told him that someone had made a mistake, and that I would try to figure it out, but that he didn't get to go in today.  

After about five minutes of crying (some of it was loud, but I wasn't really feeling like I needed to keep him quiet, if you know what I mean.  I was NOT feeling especially charitable toward IKEA right then.), he gradually calmed down.  I told him he got to come with me and Yummy, and Grandma and Aunt LaDale, etc, and that we were going to explore upstairs.  He let me put him down, and while Grandma helped him get his DAFOs and shoes on, I went back over to Småland.  

"I would like to talk to a manager, if you wouldn't mind." Intellectually, I knew it wasn't those poor girls' fault that my boy was feeling rejected and crushed, so I tried very hard to be pleasant.  As she called the manager, she apologized once more.  I told her I understood that she had to go by what the policy said.

B., the manager, was properly apologetic about the mixed messages.  He told me that while he wasn't the manager in charge of the Småland area, he was familiar with the policies, and as far as he knew, there was no exception for the diaper rule.  I told him I was disappointed that we had troubled to call and get information, only to be told after making the 50 minute trip that we were misinformed. Would he be willing to find out exactly what went wrong?  

B said that customer service calls were all answered back east in a call center, instead of at the local store, even if you dialed the store's local number.  Perhaps policies were different according to which state, although he didn't think that was the case.  He asked for a bit of time to call the manager over the  Småland area, and then he would see what he could do to provide a bit of compensation for our trouble. That was fine with me, and I gave him my cell number.

About twenty minutes later, he found us up on the showroom floor.  (My cell doesn't get a very strong signal in IKEA, apparently.)  According to the Småland manager, the policy was nation-wide, and was a public health concern.  B said that the manager was very angry that we had been misinformed, and would definitely be taking the situation up with the call center.  He offered us several vouchers for free meals and frozen yogurt, which I accepted.  I also asked for and received his email address, so that I could follow up if necessary.

The whole mess left me drained and crabby, but I tried my best to make sure Gee had a great time.  He seemed pretty happy until we were leaving.  Then, suddenly, he began to cry.

"But...but...I was going to go into the ball pit!  I didn't get to go into the ball pit yet!"

Oh, my heart just broke into a million little pieces.  Apparently he thought that I was going to be able to fix everything, and he'd still get to go to the playplace today.  I loved and cuddled and whispered to him, but it wasn't pleasant.  Eventually, Zee cheered him up with promises of favorite computer games and fun, and we made it out to the van.

We stopped to eat lunch with Daddy, and while the kids drank apple juice and ate pizza, Bradley and I discussed our next step.  Such a national policy seems wrong, and possibly against ADA laws, although the wording of the pertinent section was ambiguous.  We resolved to write a short (much shorter than this blog post, that's for sure) to the local store head manager, and then take it from there.  But first I would try to recreate Telima's phone call, and see if I got the same answer.

When we got home, I set the kids to watching shows, and made my call.  After being on hold for fifteen minutes, I reached T., a very helpful gentleman in a call center back east.  I asked him for the policy, and I was surprised but, somehow, NOT surprised when he told me...exactly what Telima had been told.  There was no barrier to entry for disabled children who are not toilet-trained.

I asked him to send me an email with the policy attached, and he quickly did so.  He offered to call Draper IKEA and talk to them so Gee could get in, but then realized I was no longer there.  He apologized several times, and was a right pleasant man to work with.  (Actually, everyone was.  Confused, some of them, but very pleasant.)

So that's where we are right now.  The policy, for those who care, is as follows (emphasis added):

Småland is located at the main entrance of the store. There are no exceptions to the rules of admission. The child must be between 37" to 54 " in height and the child MUST be potty trained, no pull ups are allowed. Socks must be worn. Same parent must sign the child in and out and must have ID present. Playtime is limited to 1 hour and on a first come, first serve basis. IKEA Family members get an extra 30 minutes! (capacity-depending) No food products are allowed inside the Småland area.

Children with disabilities are welcome in Småland as long as they meet the Småland requirements. They are however exempt from the toilet training requirement and may be admitted into Småland with the use of a diaper or pull-up. A child with any limitations must be able to function in the area independent of direct supervision and must be able to respond to instruction. Please be aware that Service Animals are permitted in Småland. See Handicap Services above for more info!

What my next step?  Well, I'm going to write that email to the head manager.  It sounds like there has been a misunderstanding about national policies, and maybe just bringing this to his/her attention will get it straightened out. If it isn't a misunderstanding...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

And, if we can get all this figured out, maybe sometime next week we can take Gee to Småland, and erase the disappointment of today.

Whew!

Sorry about the radio silence there for a couple of days.  Short version:  On Friday, we got another bit of news that potentially was going to cause us to walk away from our beautiful lot, and I spent all weekend stewing over it.  But, lo!  In the morning the sun comes up, the birds start singing, and (more to the point) the Lindon City Offices opened and our builder could get the required records.  It turns out that all is well, glory, glory, hallelujah etc.

(It suddenly occurs to me that I never told you the end of the electrical line saga.  Ooops.  Yes, we can build a one story building on the lot, as long as we position it correctly.  Since we only wanted a one story building--with a basement--all is well.) 

Long version:  On Friday Mema and I went over to the Lindon City Offices to look over some stuff and get the final "okay" on two front doors.  (Yes, we can have two front doors, as long as we don't try to permit Mema's part of the house as a separate apartment.)  While there, we looked over parts of the geotech report from the creation of the subdivision.  (This was my classic blunder.  No, I didn't get into a land war in Asia, but I DID think that I only needed the parts of the report that dealt specifically with our lot.  Thus overlooking the maps and diagrams at the beginning of the report.)

In scanning the geotech report, I discovered something very ominous.  In 2006 (an average-to-slightly wet year), when the survey was completed, the groundwater was measured at between 6.5 and 12 feet deep.  (That's a mighty big range of groundwater level.)  The report recommended that the lowest level start at least three feet ABOVE groundwater.

This was a potential dealbreaker.  If we can't build up (electrical lines) and we can't build down (water table), then what can you do?  Even building a one story BIG house is dicey, because of the location of the electrical lines.  The big question:  Where, exactly, was the water table at OUR lot?  If it was the 12 footer, we're golden.  If it was the 6 footer, we're sunk.  If it is anything in between, who knows?

Our (extended) due diligence ends today (Monday), so first thing this morning, our builder got the full record, and took it out to the site to look things over.  To my everlasting relief, the test well dug on our lot was on the lowest part of the property, about two feet lower than the house site.  And the groundwater was at 11 feet.  WHEW!

So we are good to go.  We will close this week, and meet with our long suffering builder to finalize our plans and put them out to bid.  (There's part of the answer, Ashley!)

And everyone who expressed interest in helping us make our plans lovely and perfect, thanks!  I'm excited to hear what you have to say.  (Even if you have never build a house before, Marianne!)

Here are the very rough preliminary plans (click to enlarge):

 First floor

Basement floor
(Yes, our master bedroom is in the basement.  This is for cost and size reasons, and isn't likely to change.  Just FYI.)

Pictorial Ode to the First (Real) Rain of the Summer

Did you pray for rain on Sunday?

Now might be a good time for a little prayer of thanksgiving!

Experts

Several years ago, I watched a blacksmith work.  The gentleman pounded and fired, twisted and cooled, and soon a lovely leaf was fashioned out of a piece of iron.  He twisted the end to make a loop, creating a key ring, and (probably in response to my millions of questions) gave it to me as a gift.  It was amazing and a little intimidating to see how expertly and comfortably he used his tools and talent to create beautiful objects.

I felt a little of that same awe today, when we met with our builder-draftsman, Jared, to talk through our house plans.  He took the (pathetically amateur) drawing that I had spent hours working on, and turned it into a thing of beauty.  Or, at least, a thing of function, style, utility, frugality, and a smidgen of grace.  

Mema, Bradley, Craig-the-realtor and I spent almost three hours with Jared in a conference room in Saratoga Springs.  (Bless my sister Telima's heart--she watched all my kids for five hours today, maybe more.  I am SOOOO grateful.  It's hard to imagine trying to do this with my little chickens pecking around.)  We showed pictures of the style of house we like. (I favor Craftsman, Mema favors Victorian, and Bradley favors "Not Ugly".  Because of budget constraints, Craftsman style seems to have won the day.  Turrets are terribly expensive.)  The above-mentioned floor plan drawing was dissected.  Requirements, wants, and wishes were discussed.  

And by the end, we had something...workable.  And actually nice.  And very very exciting.

Now, Jared takes his drawing back to his computer and drafting program and creates it.  It should take him about a week.  After that, we tweak and play and then...send it out to bid!  We're hoping to break ground in August, but that might be laughably optimistic.  We'll see!

(Bradley and I have decided that we want to "crowdsource" this project a bit, so if you have an idea, I'd love to hear it.  There are some of my friends out there (you know who you are!) who might have ideas/advice/warnings for us.  I'm going to get my hands on pictures of the rough drawings and then ask for your opinions.  I hope you'll be willing to share!  So stay tuned--as soon as I get the drawings, I will put them up.)