* Mini skipped her morning to accompany me to the Shedd Aquarium downtown with four little guys. I drove the Great White and was thrilled to find a parking spot on the street. Even more exciting - no need to parallel park my huge van as the spot in front was unoccupied. We had a blast.
* I brought Mini's vax card, but she left her license at home, since she wasn't driving. The Shedd: SORRY FOLKS, THE SHEDD'S CLOSED TO PEOPLE WHO CAN'T PROVE THEIR IDENTITY. Lad was still home, so he took a photo of her license and sent it to us. I almost had to pull the THIS IS MY DAUGHTER, SEE THE RESEMBLANCE? I CAN VOUCH FOR HER card.
* On the drive to the city (47 minutes, but only 24 home, thank you traffic), I realized that Mini had never opened a letter that had come from Creighton the day before, because she'd hung out with friends after her last b-ball game. * Brown-nose girl, who beat Mini for class president, had gotten a letter that day saying that she didn't get the Evans. I held my breath as Coach shuffled through the stack of mail. I was like FASTER, FASTER! Mini had no letter from the Evans, which we hoped was good news but we also thought: maybe her rejection letter will come tomorrow? Meanwhile, the Creighton letter got lost in the shuffle.
* She ripped open the Creighton letter when we got home before lunch:
Mini: GASP, I GOT IT, NO I GOT BOTH, WAIT. NO, I GOT THE $5,000 BUSINESS SCHOLARSHIP.
She later admitted that she tends to skim these type of letters. I don't advise it. In addition to the $5,000 (which is on top of the initial $24,000 they gave her when they accepted her, she is an alternate for the Scotts full ride scholarship. If someone who was awarded the scholarship decides not to go to Creighton, she might get it. Wow. I had to chase her out the door to get to school for her afternoon classes. She wanted to sit and bask in the excitement.
* Fast forward a few hours after school: Mini was sitting in the kitchen looking at her phone.
Mini: GASP, WAIT, OH MY GOSH! MOM, I GOT AN INTERVIEW FOR THE EVANS.
Our celebration was interrupted by Mini's moaning. WAIT, IT SAYS TO RESPOND TO THIS EMAIL BY FEB 14TH. Um, this was the 15th. She realized that they'd resent her the email because she'd never replied back on Feb. 9th. WHEN.IT.WAS.ORIGINALLY.SENT. Sheesh.
email oversight explained: The committee instructed applicants NOT to use a school email. They wanted a personal email. Since the school doesn't allow them to check personal emails on their school computers, Mini doesn't look at her personal email very often, or very closely - because she swears she's looked at it, but was expecting a letter not an email. All three older boys got a rejection letter in the mail, so she didn't know she'd get an email if she got an interview. Assumed it would also be a letter. ALSO, she realized that she input her parents' email address wrong: combining my email with her school -name.org ending.
She's so pretty.
There were tears as she entered freak out mode. Would this be a black mark against her? I assured her that they'd resent the email because they wanted her to respond. The interview was set for the 24th. NOW, if she'd ignored the email and missed the interview, then black mark. Begging her to relax was not really helping her relax.
There was a form she needed to complete and send back, ranking her top 4 Evans school choices. She tried to type, but her hands weren't functioning. We switched spots at the desktop, and she dictated responses to me, her cool as a cucumber mother. *I'd carved out this time to pack for Colorado. So, that didn't happen.*
Show of hands here, who thinks I might need to accompany Mini to college to be sure she gets emails, and wakes up on time, and doesn't bury her roommate accidentally with a truckload of dirty laundry?
We called Ed in Budapest. She'd already texted him the good Creighton news.
Ed: I ONLY HAVE A MINUTE.
Me: I ONLY NEED A MINUTE. MINI GOT AN INTERVIEW FOR THE EVANS.
Ed sputtered, he was speechless. He said he was tearing up. She called Tank, who let some expletives slip out while on speaker phone. It was just THAT exciting.
One of Coach's patients, who is 'in the know', told Coach a few weeks ago that Mini hadn't been disqualified for being too financially comfortable, so we kept thinking MAYBE? Each time a kid applies, I write a financial statement. This time I was like HEY, HOW HIGH CAN YOU COUNT? WE WILL HAVE 3 KIDS IN COLLEGE TWICE WHILE MINI IS IN COLLEGE. Maybe it's because I was shouting? Kidding, but when Coach shared this with Mini and I, we were standing in the kitchen. We froze and stared at one another. Bug-eyed.
This patient also told Coach that the committee wants to give her the scholarship. She just needs to be the person who she is in her application. I think this mindset helped Mini calm down, because she was a mess.
"THIS IS THE BIGGEST INTERVIEW OF MY LIFE."
Well, I didn't think any additional adrenaline could've been inserted into that day. I texted the moms I sit for: HERE I THOUGHT GETTING A GOOD PARKING SPOT AT THE SHEDD WAS GOING TO BE THE MOST EXCITING MOMENT TODAY.
Later that night, there was more excitement. Good thing I'm not an Olympian, because I think they would've accused me of doping with adrenaline. This interview isn't a guarantee to the scholarship. Plus Mini is nervous that they'll pick a school for her that isn't where she wants to go. Beggars and choosiness applies, but I do get it. Her interview is tomorrow (Thursday the 24th at 8 am). Good vibes, prayers, and happy thoughts accepted and appreciated.
Do you think you could parallel park a 12-seater Chevy express former airport shuttle? Asking this rather than asking you to share any crystal ball visions/thoughts about the scholarship. Remaining calm here, and how are you doin'?