A Tale of Two Appliances & customer service, or not

Where to start? 

I needed a sign early on, so I'd remember.
It was a Pavlov's dogs thing.

Mother's Day, 2022:  Remember? Our microwave drawer started to smoke. ABT, where we bought it, came out. Not repairable. Replacement cost: $2,000. Ouch. 

Middle of May:  I called Thermador at ABT's suggestion and explained that while our warranty had expired, this microwave was from '17. I'd convinced my husband to buy Thermador, a  name we could rely on. We didn't want to be replacing appliances willy nilly a few years down the line. The customer service person, who for the record was NOT very friendly or engaging or apologetic, said it might take a while for them to review. She told me they might agree to a partial replacement cost. 

July 5th:  Reg and I drove to Georgia for basketball championships in the new minivan. I decided to make some calls along the way, so I could get things accomplished. 

The Thermador person looked up my account, and said words that 

    1) I found shocking, and 

    2) revealed an 'oops' that I'm convinced was never supposed to be shared with me. 

"Oh, I see your complaint right here. Oh, hmm. For some reason, it was never filed. It's just sitting here." 

I have no idea how I didn't lost control of the car.  I was almost speechless, except that I wasn't, if you know what I mean. It had been almost 2 months since I'd called and filed my request to review the out of warranty breakdown. I'd also sent an email. What even is this? How? Poor Reg was trapped in a car while smoke poured from my ears. I think I muttered under my breath for  the next 100 miles. 

Understand, I've been using an old microwave from Lad's college days since MOTHER'S.DAY. 

After Georgia, I called Thermador again. They wanted information, like proof of purchase, etc. Easy to provide. The initial contact person didn't feel like doing her job apparently, because she never asked. 

Early September:  after many phone calls and emails, Thermador planned to cover $996 of our replacement. Sign on the dotted line to accept the terms. Installation would be at my expense.

Me:  OK, yeah, yeah, yeah - here's my credit card. Now, when's delivery? 

Thermador:  Oh. Well, we have no idea. 

Me:  Like two weeks, next year, some idea?

Thermador:  Nope. No idea. 

I considered calling ABT where I bought the microwave in case they had it in stock, but I was busy. I hoped that Thermador would surprise me and call sooner rather than later to say HEY, WE HAVE IT IN STOCK. 

**********

9/11/22:  Sunday morning after a visit to Notre Dame, the washing machine acted  normal:  buttons lit up, but nothing happened when I turned it on. I unplugged it and plugged it back in, thinking I was clever. The display lit up to tease me. It would not wash.

Mini had sobbed again when I said good-bye after our tailgate visit. I abandoned my laundry mission when she called me and I chatted with her from the study. This was a few weeks ago, and things have improved dramatically, but she sobbed on the phone for 30 minutes. Mid it's-gonna-be-OK talk, a beep sounded upstairs. It was the 'laundry's-done' signal. Wait, huh?

The washer decided to wash clothes, like it was all just a silly misunderstanding. It kept plugging away, helping me get caught up on laundry I'd ignored while prepping food for my tailgate. I'd planned to write all day, but I could focus on nothing knowing Mini was upset. Nothing except mindless tasks, like laundry.

9/12/22:  My machine, that I think was about 8 or 9 years old, bowed out officially. Mid towel load. Seriously? I've lost track of how many times I've said: 

they don't make 'em like they used to. 

Ever smelled water sitting in a washer for several days? Gross. I wrung out the towels best I could and Lad hauled the 200 lb load over to rewash at my parents' house. 

My repair guy, Tom, couldn't come out until Friday when Coach and I would be driving to Omaha to visit Tank. Of course. 

*********

9/14/22:  I called ABT (appliance store). I was still hoping my washer would be fixed. 

I told a man named Robin my microwave (switching gears again) sob story. He had inventory of the microwave, he'd pay half the cost of installation. All I had to do was call Thermador and say:  

HEY, NO WORRIES. ABT HAS A MICROWAVE DRAWER. I'M ALL SET. PLEASE REIMBURSE ME 50% PER OUR ARRANGEMENT. 

Pinch me. 

9/15/22:  I called Thermador:  YEAH, WE DON'T DO THAT. THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS.

Me:  You don't do WHAT EXACTLY? Believe in customer service? (here I quoted their commitment to excellence, which I know because I heard a recording while on hold so frequently) Agree to simplify things? I want to speak to a manager.

Manager heard my SAGA. She agreed to ask her boss, and she'd call me back the next day. She  didn't think they'd be OK with it, but she'd look at the inventory and see if it would be available soon. 

9/16/22:  Coach and I were driving to Omaha when we got the news:  washer needs a new control board. Tom was gonna see if he could locate one. 

My friend Becky texted:  If he can't get a control board, do yourself a favor. Get a Seed Queen.

Me:  Seed queen? 

Becky:  Oops, Speed Queen. 

Misspelled or not, I hadn't heard of it. It's a commercial washer that's supposed to last forever. But pricey. 

Hmm.

We're approaching Omaha. I fear my washing machine is dead. The Thermador manager lady calls. *about the microwave. Are you keeping up? 

Manager:  Yeah, sorry. We don't do that. Looks like the inventory will be in sometime in the next 3-6 months. 

Me:  What? This cannot be happening. You mean to tell me I can get a Thermador microwave from a local dealer but you cannot figure out how to pay/reimburse me or them for half of it if I do it that way? And you cannot get me the appliance anytime soon. All this AND you understand that your customer service people  ignored my request FOR TWO MONTHS when I first called? So long as we understand each other. I'll tell you what - this isn't over. You haven't heard the last of me. 

It was difficult to not let this ordeal dampen the good time we were planning to have with Tank, his friends, and their parents. I was a hot, angry mess by the time we got to our hotel. 

9/19/22:   After a wonderful visit with Tank and a break from watching the laundry pile up, Tom called to say he couldn't get a control board. 

Me:  What washer should I buy? *He knows how much laundry I do. 

Tom:  SPEED QUEEN.  

Stop it. 

I called ABT and ordered one over the phone, but they couldn't deliver it for weeks. 

Stop it. 

*********

I called back and pointed out that I still had a microwave scheduled to be delivered 9/28. They linked the two deliveries. Hooray.

I was confusing myself. I had a $1400 washing machine linked to a microwave delivery that I was supposed to cancel, because if I got the microwave from ABT - then Thermador wouldn't honor our arrangement.

9/20/22:  I called Thermador again.

Me:  I plan to reach out to the local television station and the newspapers in Chicago. I'll share my Thermador experience with anyone who will listen. 

I was put on hold forever. Guess what? My microwave is supposed to going to ship out on Sept. 30th. 

Stop it. But OK. 

********** 

I was appalled at the cost of this washing machine. On FB marketplace people were selling apartment building units with a coin start thing. Tempting. Imagine charging our offspring to do their laundry? Anyway, I found one, gently used, wouldn't fit after they people had moved. It was an hour away in Indiana. $800.

I called Tom the next morning to ask him his opinion. Would it still work after being in storage? 

Tom:  You're gonna drive an hour to pick it up? Well, I have a better option. I can use my discount to buy one at cost. You'd pick it up about 25 minutes away, install it yourselves. It's not hard. Connect a hose. It'd cost you about $800. I'll pay for it, then I'll bill you. 

Stop it, for REAL? I'm all about saving $600. 

The next day I called ABT and cancelled the $1400 washer. I talked to Robin at ABT about my microwave. He's keeping my other one on my order for now, in case Thermador flakes out. They'll still come out and install the 1/2 price microwave as soon as it arrives. 

Now, all I had to do was go pick up my washer. Get it up the stairs. Get Coach to install it. Get the old one down the stairs and dispose of it. Easy breezie, right? What could go wrong? 

This is longer than intended. Shock. Sorry. Sharing the last bit soon. The good news/spoiler alert - we do have clean clothes. Which of your appliances have lasted you the longest? Do you buy brand names? Have you heard of a Speed Queen? Have you ever gotten different results by calling a manufacturer repeatedly? 

"You got a little something", purse cleaning, & digressions while sleep deprived

I didn't sleep much last night, and my brain hurts - but I'm drafting a post anyway. I'll see if my well-rested self still finds this post-worthy when I come back to revisit the draft later. 

First off, I just noticed in my last post that I accidentally dropped an extra copy of a photo in the body. (not 'of a body', I haven't made drastic changes in the content since we last met. Don't worry). No one commented: HEY THERE, THIS PHOTO WASN'T ALL THE INTERESTING TO BEGIN WITH, WHY SHARE IT TWICE? 

The 'not mentioning' thing reminds me . . . 

Speaking of our trip . . . I ate this out one night.
It was delicious, but hard to enjoy because it
 made my face sweat. It was SO spicy. Nothing
 in the description sounded spicy. 

On Thursday, 'TM' aka twin mom - who I sit for, who is lovely and at this point a dear friend, walked in to pick up her girls. I was hovering over the buffet countertop cleaning out my purse. Coach and I were getting ready to drive to Omaha to visit Tank. I didn't want to lug extra, unnecessary stuff on our trip.

Fun fact:  remember that purse that Coach and Mini picked out for me for my birthday in December? (I'll wait while you all run to your calendars and write reminders for my birthday, Dec 30th. Subtle, right?) Well, my new purse can hold a lot of CRAP. 

How do I know this? Well, let me tell you, when I clean it out . . . the things I found. 

I borrowed 4 garbage bags from Becky right before we left for Omaha. Yes, that's a weird thing to borrow from a friend. We ran out of garbage bags the day before we left. Lad, Reg, and Curly were all staying home. My kids aren't great at cleaning up after themselves. I didn't want to give them an excuse for leaving garbage laying around. 

I'd just gotten back from the store when Coach realized we were out and I wasn't sure I'd have time to run back out before our road trip. Becky and I had a playdate the next morning. She brought some, so I had a stash to leave with the kids. 

Tank made some last minute food requests, so of course I ran to the store AGAIN. I later stuffed Becky's donated bags in my purse so I could return them to her. 

It was curriculum night at our high school, but I was focused on getting lost trying to find my kids' classrooms. (teachers were making fun of me for squinting at the room numbers, "Don't you know your way around by now, Mrs. Shenanigan?) I forgot to hand the garbage bags off to Becky when I passed her in the hall. 

Well, I guess I did a lousy, half-ass job of cleaning out my purse, because I reached in my bottomless pit purse while in Omaha and pulled out . . .  the garbage bags. 

I assume you come here for my digressions and stay in hopes that my original story has a point. 

Unrelated, but isn't this cute. Fun at the Morton Arboretum 
Children's Garden. We couldn't stay long because we had to race home to greet the 3 kids arriving at 11-11:15ish after preschool. One child in this photo is lucky I didn't push her into the water. I would never, but Lawdy . . . this child. Story to follow. 

Anyway, I turned briefly away from my purse cleaning job that Thursday in my kitchen and greeted TM. She was facing her girls who were running to hug her. This gave me the opportunity to notice from her profile that she had a snot hanging out of one nostril. 

Note:  I tried unsuccessfully to completely dive head-first into my purse in order to avoid embarrassing her by pointing out the straggler. My purse:  not as large as originally reported. 

I talked to TM about the girls' day, while pretending to be overly focused on the lining of my purse. While she put the girls' shoes on, I decided that I didn't want her to get into her car and realize in the rearview mirror that she had conversed with me while host to this facial ick. 

Aren't they cute when they discover
 a caterpillar in the parking lot?

I faced her and bravely said the words everyone appreciates, but still never wants to hear:  Oh, you've got a little something . . . by your nose. 

TM:  Oh my gosh, thank you. Ack, what if that was there all 10th hour? (as in at the high school, in front of teenagers).

Well, I'd hoped to breeze along and forget about this awkward moment for both of our sakes, but here we were - thinking over the possibilities. High school kids. Phones with cameras. Chatter. The horrors. I tried to reassure her that this was not likely, but neither of us really knew. These things happen.

*********

Have you pointed out an awkward something? Salad in someone's teeth? Shirt worn inside out? (Oh, I have a story that falls into this category, raises hand wildly) Skirt tucked into your underwear? Or, heaven forbid, has someone pointed out something you were unaware of? Or do you opt not to mention the thing? Or do you arrive somewhere and then realize you have some extra something in your purse that you should've left at home? Do tell. 

*I wanted to go to bed at 8 pm on this can't-see-straight-because-I-woke-at-2:00 am-and-never-went-back-to-sleep evening, but there is a large appliance wedged on the staircase, and I'm trapped downstairs in the study. Since I wanted said appliance . . . no, I  NEEDED it, I really couldn't complain that the appliance moving was interfering with my sleep. 

Appliance drama story to follow on Wednesday. Get excited. 

part 2: open-book bloodlines, pill courier, & EVERYTHING

(this is part 2, starting off with my response to Mini's tearful conversation - when she shared her feelings about being away at school)

Me:  It's going to take time. Don't worry about academics - you'll do great. You did NOT peak in high school. Anyone will be thrilled and lucky to have you as a friend. Ann sounds great

, have you told her how hard you're finding this? (YES). That's  good - better to get things off your chest. 

*Then Mini explained that she struggled to keep things bottled up, was sort of disgusted with herself for always spilling the beans and calling me crying. 

Me:  (eyes bugging out of my head) Well, um, that's because you're an open book JUST like me. It just means we're good at sharing (this is where you all mention in the comments that open book people are the best kind of people.) Hey, I'm going to see you Saturday. 

*****

6:45 pm:  While I was talking to Mini, Reg called. I'd texted him to say that I'd arrived.

Reg:  I'll be at the car in a minute.

Me:  I'm talking to Mini. Don't talk in the car, OK? *I didn't want her to shut down.

Reg:  OK. 

He hopped in, ate his dinner, and changed his clothes, all while I drove and chatted with Mini and tried not to become a puddle myself. I dropped him off at basketball and told him Dad might be back to get him at 9:30. 

I figured I could just drive all the way home (26 minutes on the expressway, because b-ball is my new Irish dancing) and keep talking to Mini. By the time I got home, maybe Curly would be ready to be picked up. 

*****

7:45 pm:   Mini said good-bye, she needed to go get some stuff done. I tried Ed again while I drove. No answer. I was worried. 

*****

Remember in Sound of Music when Maria is praying next to her bed and can't remember the one kid's name. "Oh, that's right, Curt. God bless Curt." 

Who am I missing? Oh, yeah Tank. He'd texted me something about fall break that was clear as mud. I called him. 

7:45 pm:  While chatting with Tank, I ran into the grocery store. I was driving to Notre Dame that Saturday morning and I needed  ingredients for my tailgate appetizers. I opened my wristlet, and the fact that I even know what a wristlet is surprises the heck out of me. You know me, I'm not fancy. Inside the wristlet was the little capsule with Reg's epilepsy pill in it. 

Me:  NO! *sobbing*

Tank:  What? What's wrong with you? 

Me:  I forgot to have Reg take his pill. Because I was talking to Mini. She was crying. And. Now. He's far away. At b-ball. If he has another seizure . . . 

Tank:  Geez, he'll be fine. He can take it later. *Tank doesn't get it.

Tank said good-bye to his mother, the basket case. I ran around the grocery store, wiping my tears, waiting for Curly to text me: 'come get me.'

Coach called. I told him about the pill. He offered to bring Reg the pill if I brought it to him at work (he works nearby). He'd have to leave work, write up his notes another time. I preferred he just finish what he was doing and not have to stay at work longer another time. 

8:00 pm:  Curly was ready to be picked up, I left my grocery cart at the service desk. "I'll be right back." When Curly hopped in the car, I explained my tears. "EVERYTHING." 

We returned to the store. She grabbed a few things, I get a few things. We unloaded the stuff at home, and I hauled butt back to Reg's practice. 

8:25 pm:  Ed finally called. Feeling better, not 100%. Told me he played in a b-ball game. I pointed out that this was a mistake, and he agreed. Realizing that he shouldn't have exerted himself. *He continued to feel sick for better part of a week.

I bought these on
Amazon. I think there
were 4 or 5 in the
package. Reg filled a
 few, and then left them on the
counter. Now he has them
stowed places. 

I told him that he'll have to give me numbers of his friends, so that I have people to reach out to if he isn't responding again. 

8:45 pm:  Back at b-ball, I tried to get Reg's attention, so he would take his pill. Practice was a fast paced, full court drill, and there was no way he was going to come off of the court. *Parents are allowed to watch, so I didn't raise any eyebrows. I appeared to be observing vs frantic mother with a medication delivery. 

9:45 pm:  Practice ends after going 15 minutes longer than scheduled. Reg takes his pill in the car and I tell him that the little pill holders that I bought as backup options in case he forgets at home cannot sit on the kitchen counter. He needs to attach them to his golf bag, school bag, b-ball bag, etc. 

Not sure when I last had an evening when EVERYTHING felt SO urgent and stressful. 

part 1: when it rains, it pours: saying the wrong thing, small ninja sneak attacks, can we be friends with our kids?

My 2 high school kids started school
 9/6. Very late due to renovations.
This pic was taken before the first
 day of school when Curly came
along on our outing to the zoo. 

Tuesday September 6th started out in a positive, 'this is going to be a great day' kind of way. 

5:55 am:  I woke up well rested - not because someone incorrectly set his alarm. I fumbled around, hoping not to wake up Coach. I grabbed workout clothes from a clean laundry pile next to my bed. BLINDLY. Mini is not the only family member who doesn't always have her laundry put away. Once in the bathroom, I switched on the light. Low and behold - I'd magically chosen an outfit that I loved. It matched. 

6:45 am:  Coach told me that Ed had texted Coach at like 5:15 am to say, ARE YOU AWAKE? 

Nothing makes me smile more
than two buddies opting
 to hold hands at the zoo. See what
I'm doing here - showing photos of happy
 moments to offset the stress I'm writing about.

Huh?

Tuesdays are full days. 6 tots/baby in the morning, then 2 more arrive by bus at 11:00 from preschool. It's hectic till the beloved naptime. 

10: 30 am:  

Me to Ed:  (text) What's up?

Ed:  I'm sick.

Cold symptoms? Too much to drink? Stomach bug? 

Um . . . THE.OTHER.END. 

We now believe that he had E.coli. Or something. He'd cook fish. Perhaps the meat thermometer was bad. He was REALLY sick. He'd finally slept 5 hours after being up all night. 

4:20 pm:  I texted to see how he was doing. No response.  

*****

4:30 pm:  Reg texted, in freak-out mode. If he took the bus back to the high school after his golf team tournie he'd be VERY late for travel b-ball fall league practice. 

Me:  Do you want me to drive there, get you, then drive you to b-ball?  *opposite directions

Reg:  Yes, bring . . .  (list, including dinner & his epilepsy medication) 

I gathered his stuff. 

*****

5:30 pm:  Lad called me driving home from a job interview. He's 

been interviewing for a new job. That day he had a 2nd interview. It was a big deal. He had to come up with a presentation to share at the interview revolving around a case study they gave him in advance. He'd been researching his response all weekend. Well, Coach, Reg, Curly, and I were at a friends' lake house over Labor Day weekend. I'm pretty sure Lad wasn't doing much research while we were away. 

8 second lake house video. The lake had a pirate parade/water balloon fight. Our kids are on the boat on the left - decorated with pirate flags. We tried to keep a safe distance, observing. Maybe a white flag would've helped. The little buggers attacked us. Friendly fire? Watch the one balloon launched at us. It hit me in the right boob. OUCH! Coach called it a one in a million shot. Hey, now!

I digress. I kept looking at the clock, wondering how Lad's interview was going. 

Lad:  So, it went well, I think. Then they asked about my timeline and what else I was thinking about. I was honest and I said that 'B' company is my number 1. (this interview was not with 'B' company)

Me:  WHAT? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT? *B would be a great job, but he was very early in the process and I feared that it was more of a reach job. Shit.

This is when it's nice to be Coach. I screw things up. Say the wrong thing. More or less, step in it. Then Coach has the time and space to gather himself and his thoughts and approach our offspring poised and calm, ready to clean up my verbal diarrhea. 

After he hung up with me, Lad called the headhunter who had lined up the interview. The head hunter blasted him. Later I told Lad, THINK OF IT LIKE A DATE, YOU DON'T SAY TO A GIRL. I LIKE YOU, BUT THAT GIRL OVER THERE - SHE'S THE ONE I'M CRAZY ABOUT.

Lad was ticked at me, or the situation, or his blunder.  *sigh*

6:00 pm:  Me:  I'm driving to get Reg, would you pick up Curly from her volleyball game when the bus gets back? 

He was not enthusiastic. Then Curly shared that the varsity game hadn't started. I thought only freshmen were playing, so this was gonna take awhile. I told Lad not to worry. I'd get her after I dropped off Reg - even though I usually stay in my car at b-ball because it's a hike. Lad didn't seem to be in the right frame of my mind for favors. 

Under water polar bear
viewing. Super cool. 

*****

6:40 pm:  I decided to call Mini. 

Mini: (text) Call you in a minute.

*****

Lad called hollering about wasting his whole day and not wanting to pick up Curly. 

Me:  I told you - not to worry about it. *Goodness* 

*****

Mini called, crying -but pretended she wasn't. Up until now, she'd mostly spoken to us in short, abrupt bursts that left us to believe she was mad at us, or in a hurry. 

Mini:  (A few excerpts): I'M MISERABLE. I HATE IT HERE. I JUST WANNA COME HOME. WHAT IF I PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL. EVERYONE LIKES COLLEGE, WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME? I'M SO ANXOUS. I'M WORRIED ABOUT ACADEMICS. I LIKE H AND M, BUT  I'M PUTTING IN ALL OF THE EFFORT. I REALLY LIKE ANN. SHE'S SUPER NICE AND SHE'S ONE OF 6 KIDS, TOO. WE BOTH MISS OUR FAMILIES. I DON'T LIKE BEING ALONE. AT HOME, I COULD ALWAYS JUST WALK INTO THE KITCHEN AND FIND SOMEONE. 

We'd had a few teary phone calls before, but this one felt different. More involved. As I listened, I was pretty sure a small ninja had slipped into the car and hit me directly in my throat with a sucker punch.

*****

I hope you'll tune in on Wednesday to learn what happened next in this saga of 'the night my offspring had everything going on'. In the meantime, I read this article in the Chicago Tribune about whether or not parents can be friends with their kids. It resonated with me. Where do you stand? Were you friends with your parents growing up? Feel free to take a stab at what else went wrong this particular night. 

"GIVE ME THAT PHONE" and other college drop off details

The living situation:  While most colleges with an Evans Scholarship program have houses where the students live, Notre Dame doesn't. Instead the female scholars live in a dorm with other women, and the male scholars live in the dorm next door. There are only 5 female freshman Evans recipients at ND. 

At ND students must live on campus for 3 years, while Evans kids - all 4 years. Remember, ND doesn't take requests. 

Another fun fact, Notre Dame doesn't have Greek life. Think Hogwarts in Harry Potter. Students are allegiant to their assigned dorm. If someone badmouths a student's dorm, they better be ready for a fight. 

Students who make great friends from another dorm, can apply to switch to a friend's dorm the following school year. It happens, but rarely. 

Dorm and roommate assignments were delivered back on July 1.Mini was assigned a quad. Two rooms with two girls and a common room in between. She'd been stalking checking out the other Evans students on Instagram. She hoped to be paired with 'M'. The Evans kids all have at least one Evans roommate. Mini was bummed. She wasn't paired with 'M'. 

Mini suspected that her (non-Evans) roommate, Ellen, was odd. The  Evans girl in her quad is super quiet. the 4th girl is very nice, but doesn't seem real, she always presents with a smiley face. 

Before we'd even driven home from ND, Mini shared that Ellen was annoying and clingy. Mini was in the dining hall, happy to have met a new girl to eat with. Ellen came up and tapped her on the shoulder, "We're sitting over there, come sit with us." Mini was irritated. 

I told her not to worry - once classes started there'd be a natural divide. Three weeks in, Mini doesn't hang out with her roomies. She does her own thing and they do theirs. Peaceful, just separate. 

Good-bye:  After the closing mass, we walked back to Mini's dorm and said good-bye. She sobbed. My confident, easy-going, hilarious, messy-bun-wearing, don't-care-what-anyone-thinks daughter was a puddle. Oh, my heart. I cried right along with her. I told her it would all be fine, that we would talk and she would find her people, etc. She kept nodding, but the tears kept coming. 

We had eaten a late lunch. When we got to the car, I panicked:  WHAT IF SHE HAS NO ONE TO EAT DINNER WITH? SHOULD WE STAY FOR DINNER? 

I texted her and asked her if she was OK. I told her we'd come and eat with her, if that was her preference. At 2:00 I'd stuffed myself. It was so pricey to eat in the dining hall - I wanted my money's worth. Sometimes being on a budget is a pain. I was willing to take one for the team and cram more food in my pie hole. 

She found people to eat with and said she'd be OK. I cried on and off all the way home. 

More tears:  Mini sounded funny the first few phone calls. We thought we were annoying her. *I now know she was holding in her emotions.* 

I chatted briefly with her one morning a few days after we'd dropped her off. Coach was annoyed that I'd gotten to talk to her and he hadn't. I was saying good-bye to the babies at the garage door. He was on the front porch, his phone to his ear.  

Do I hear someone crying? 

Coach:  HEY MINI, MOMMY'S RIGHT HERE. DO YOU MIND IF I PUT YOU ON SPEAKER PHONE?

Does she MIND? I'm her MOTHER. 

If you're picturing this playing out like a scene in a movie where the mother's eyes bug out of her head and she boxes her husband out while wrestling him for the phone all while hollering into the phone IT'S OK- I'M RIGHT HERE. WHAT'S GOING ON? -Then, it's as if you were a visitor in my front hall.   

Why is she crying? How much of this conversation have I missed? 

She'd been hanging out with the 2 Evans girls:  M who she'd hoped to room with and M's roommate H, who Mini really liked. 

Mini texted them:  When do you want to walk over to the scholars' ice cream social?

They'd already left the dorm and hadn't thought to wait for her. I was sure it was an oversight. Mini felt hurt.

Early on Mini worried that she was 'wasting' her time. While she was getting to know M and H, other friendships were being made - was it a mistake to spend time with M and H? 

Weeks have passed. H started dating a boy on day 4 and has no time for friends. Mini feels like these two girls, who she does enjoy, tend to only do things together. She is focusing on building other friendships.

Stress:  Mini admits that her expectations were too high. She wanted to make her friends before classes started, so that task was handled. Oh, goodness. 

I told her - she will most likely make friends in her classes, too. She is desperate to find her 'group.' She's told me many times how much she misses her close-knit group of friends from home. In high school she could hang out with most groups. She was well known and well liked. 

Taking things to a new level:  I now grade my
cookies when I bag and freeze
 them. The A+ ready to go to my
tailgate are in the Gladware bin,
 the bag of A- is my backup supply. 

Mini:  What if I don't find a person to room with in my dorm next year - a dorm that she has to live in. 

I say it'll be fine. Not to mention, if she meets a wonderful girl outside of her dorm - she can request to have that girl come and move into her dorm. 

Her math teacher, 'Teach', whose twins I babysit, is zooming with her tonight to help her review for math. 

I told 'Teach': I wonder if Mini is struggling because she's a funny kid and she hasn't yet shown that side. Maybe if she shares the grad photo story when the photographer dragged her across the room by her feet, people who gravitate towards humor will be like:

YOU, TALL GIRL WITH THE MESSY BUN, YOU'RE MY PEOPLE. 

*********

Can you figure out what is going on
 in this photo? It's so weird,
it's almost artistic. 

I saw Mini Saturday while tailgating at Notre Dame. So fun. Our presence on campus during the first home game stressed her out. I urged her to just do her thing - see us when it worked. Another tearful good-bye. Not gonna lie, I'm having a hard time focusing on anything. Thanks for putting up with this long saga. I'm hoping she relaxes soon, so I can also relax.  

*******

Are you a fan or Greek life? That wasn't offered at my college. Anyone homesick when they went to college, camp, or anywhere? Have you wrestled a phone from someone when you heard tears, knowing the person NEEDED you? Do you freeze cookies or something else? With a grading system? 

"They do it right" ~ oh please & FB introductions

I rarely post on FB, but after I dropped Tank off I posted a photo of Tank in his room with a caption: 1 DOWN, 2 TO GO. Then a note on our next drop offs.

A woman commented: OH, ENJOY NOTRE DAME'S WELCOME WEEK. THEY DO IT RIGHT. (she's an ND mom)

This reminds me of how Mary Ann gave Mini a card earlier in the summer congratulating her on ND. Mary Ann's daughter's a junior there. Um, no - WE WON'T BE CARPOOLING. 

Don't get me wrong, the card was nice. Guessing Mary Ann is like my family of origin, recognizing Notre Dame as The One. The Only. 

Puke.

Mini:  (after getting the card) THAT WAS NICE. GUESSING SHE DIDN'T CONGRATULATE TANK ON CREIGHTON LAST YEAR THOUGH. *eyeroll*

Over the summer, Mini caddied for men who hate Notre Dame. I keep telling her that so long as she sees things clearly, she won't become a person who embraces the 'This is The One. The Only' mindset. 

This is only a few of them.
 There are more.

When she was packing, Mini piled up her 15 hoodies, most of which were Notre Dame (many 2nd hand from her friends after she was accepted). I was like THAT'S A LOT. THEY ALMOST ALL SAY ND. 

Mini:  I KNOW. I LOVE IT. 

Me:  UH-OH. IT'S HAPPENING. YOU'RE TURNING INTO ONE OF THEM. (giggling)

The "ND does welcome weekend right" FB comment reminded me of those bumper stickers:  honor roll student at (insert school) on board. I really wanted to reply on FB with something like MY CREIGHTON STUDENT CAN BEAT UP YOUR NOTRE DAME STUDENT.

I refrained.

I told Coach and Mini about how that FB comment ruffled my feathers, and we all chuckled. I thought Creighton's welcome was amazing. While ND's was a wonderful weekend, a few things could have been improved: 

Sometimes the schedule changed or was wrong. Or a time was listed incorrectly. Oops. 

ND (quoting Ally Bean) "charges a king's ransom" to attend, so could they offer parents complimentary dining hall passes for these two days?  Limit the menu options, if that cuts cost - but come on now. 

There WAS a free hot dog lunch on Friday. They ran out of drinks early on though and they didn't replenish. When they said hot dog lunch, they weren't kidding. The hot dogs were already in buns. Only the bag of chips was GF. I pack my own food  just in case, so I was fine. 

I bet the birds were excited for my bread crumbs. 
I don't think this photo even
 does the bread disaster justice.

After the nice welcome lecture in the sports arena Friday evening, we walked next door to the football stadium. They handed out boxed dinners. GF meals available. Hooray. Good thing we were in a stadium, because I made a mess. My chicken sandwich was on a crumbly GF bun - understatement. We were laughing that people surrounding us were probably wondering what my issue was. Get out much? 

I wish they'd given Mini an accurate room size when she asked. The rug we bought for the common room of her quad is very small in relation to the room. 

There's an ND Facebook page for parents of freshmen. Dang. I discovered it AFTER welcome weekend. It would've been nice to to have tips, advice, and info in advance. My guess:  the University isn't affiliated with this page, so it wouldn't be their responsibility to share the link. But, I repeat DANG. 

This was a fun dinner idea. One of Mini's
 roomies texted asking if they wanted
 to sit together. Mini didn't see the text
 until later. It didn't matter because
 one of the other girls in the quad had
 responded that they were
 going to eat somewhere
else. Apparently not everyone appreciates
 a free meal like the Shenanigans do.

**********

BTW - I joined the FB page. I can scroll to early posts. Not sure a bigger time suck exists. Parents on this page posted about their kids' acceptances since late December. 

Some are standard:  SUZIE Q IS EXCITED TO ATTEND NOTRE DAME IN THE FALL. WE LIVE IN CALIFORNIA. LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING ALL OF YOU.

Then there are others:  WHILE JOHNNY  HAS BEEN ACCEPTED TO MANY FINE INSTITUTIONS, HE'S CHOSEN ND. HIS OLDER BROTHER AND SISTER BOTH GO TO ND. SO DID HIS DAD AND I. JOHNNY WAS VOTED BY HIS PEERS TO SPEAK DURING COMENCEMENT AT HIS VERY PRESTIGIOUS HIGH SCHOOL. HE'S ALSO THE BEST AT EVERY SPORT YOU'VE EVER HEARD OF. HE PLANS TO BE A DOCTOR AND A CHEMICAL ENGINEER BUT WILL FIRST SOLVE WORLD HUNGER. (sort of embellished, but you get the idea).

If I'd known about the page and I was going to introduce Mini on it back when she was accepted, maybe I'd write: 

OUR DAUGHTER, MINI, HAS BEEN ACCEPTED TO ND. WE'RE PROUD OF HER FOR . . .  

*  NOT KNOWING THAT ND ACCEPTANCES HAD BEEN DELIVERED IN EMAIL FOR 36 HOURS,

* ALWAYS ROCKING A MESSY BUN, 

*  BEING LATE ALMOST DAILY TO HIGH SCHOOL BUT KNOWING HOW TO WIGGLE OUT OF IT AND THEREFORE NEVER SERVING DETENTION, 

*  GETTING EXCELLENT GRADES DESPITE SKIPPING SCHOOL REGULARLY TO HELP ME WITH MY DAYCARE, 

*  LOSING HER PHONE REPEATEDLY BUT BEING RESOURCEFUL ENOUGH TO FIND IT - OFTEN IN THE POCKET OF HER HOODIE, 

Mini at the beautiful grotto at
Notre Dame. Go get um, kid.
You are one of a kind.  

*  MANAGING NOT TO BREAK HER NECK IN HER BEDROOM DESPITE THE MOUNDS OF CLOTHES THAT COVERED THE FLOOR, 

*  PROVIDING PEERS WITH SIDE SPLITTING ENTERTAINMENT CONSISTENTLY, 

*  SOCIALLY CONNECTING WITH VARIOUS GROUPS AT HIGH SCHOOL BECAUSE OF HER FRIENDLY AND GENUINE PERSONALITY, 

*  CHOOSING NOT TO CARE WHAT ANYONE THINKS OF HER,

*  NEVER PRETENDING TO BE ANYTHING BUT WHO SHE IS.

LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING ALL OF YOU SOON. 

*************

 In the comments, please add  suggestions for a crafty Mini FB intro that I may've glossed over, or if you've attended a welcome by a college - how did it go? Do you know people who have tunnel vision when it comes to their fav college? Or do you know people who brag about their kids? Ever eat a messy meal and wish you were in a stadium? 

strategic errors and a near miss for the books

The holiday, which was indeed Labor Day (I referred to it as Memorial Day in yesterday's post), has thrown off my typical Mon/Wed post days. Not even sure what I normally do after a Monday holiday, but here we are with posts back to back. 

"THIS IS A WELL PACKED CAR:"

Upperclassmen in dorm-specific, color coded t-shirts held signs and cheered as cars drove up. As soon as we alerted the color-coded folks which dorm we were heading to, the girls in the lilac shirts chased our car, screamed, cheered, waved flags, and behaved in a very excited fashion. It was touching and very fun. The girls were super welcoming, but the welcome-wagon guys from the male dorms were positively entertaining. One dorm posted this sign out in front of their dorm: 

Duncan is a name of one of the
 male dorms. This
made us chuckle. 

Mini went inside to check-in and get her room key. Coach and I prepared to help the helper girls put Mini's things in huge laundry carts. 

Girl in lilac shirt:  (upon opening the trunk) OH, THIS IS A WELL PACKED CAR. 

I took a small bow, and thanked her for the compliment. She was not wrong. 

ROOMMATE INFO:  

Notre Dame doesn't allow kids to shop on social media, or anywhere, for roommates as freshmen. No requests. In my book, that's fine, but they also make no attempt to pair kids with similar interests or messy/neat, early bird/night owl factory settings, which in these days of algorithms-rule-the-world seems a bit nonsensical to me. 

In other words, yes - I fear that Mini's roommate will struggle with Mini's mess making issues. At the risk of getting ahead of myself, Mini and her roommate are not likely to be friends. I think meeting someone new is a great concept, but could we try to find a common thread here? Spoiler alert:  having an annoying roommate made the transition to college hard for Mini. 

STRATEGIC ERROR #1 (not counting the alarm mishap, which really - WAS a big error, right?): 

I intended to jog up to the room with Mini. Be there when she met her roomie. Start helping her get unpacked. The car needed to be moved to a lot and Coach wanted me to go with him. He didn't know his way around, but in hindsight - ASK SOMEONE, google-maps, etc. Instead, I told Mini I'd go with Coach and we'd be right back.

STRATEGIC ERROR #2:  

We parked, and then I started walking. I stopped, noticing Coach was not walking. I waited for a few minutes. I walked back towards the car. I stood there. I walked to his side of the car. I saw him digging in his bags. He moved to the trunk. More digging. He went back to the front seat. 

Me:  What are you looking for?

Coach:  I can't find my wallet.

I asked a few questions to see if that might help us pinpoint its location. He mentioned that he almost forgot it at home and grabbed it at the last minute. Why then would it be in his overnight bag? I climbed in the front seat. Reached between the seats in the space allocated for cups, purses, and 'stuff' -  and pulled out his wallet. 

Mini texted me:  WHERE ARE YOU? 

Me:   Sorry, we're coming. Dad couldn't find his wallet. Walking back now. 

TO LOFT OR NOT TO LOFT, THAT IS NO LONGER A QUESTION:  

By the time we got to her room, Mini looked a little frazzled. She'd hoped to mid-loft her bed. That wasn't an option given the furniture that they had. The beds were lofted. She had a wardrobe under her bed to one side and a desk to the other side. There was very little wiggle room and most importantly NO CLOSET AND NO DRESSER. Her wardrobe had 2.5 drawers at the bottom and space to hang things. Oh, dear.

Remember how I forbid her from purchasing additional drawers? Oops. 

I whispered to her:  What's up? 

Mini:  I'm too tall to fit under my bed, but Ellen wants to leave them lofted. She told me: "I like my cave." 

Ellen is short, and apparently a fan of dark, cramped spaces. The only other option was to bunk the beds and Mini wasn't a huge fan of sleeping in such close proximity anyway. She was mostly bummed that the beds could not be mid-lofted.  

The other two roommates disassembled the loft. They bunked their beds, but then couldn't fit all of the furniture in their room. They decided to park one of their desks in the common room shared by all 4. I suggested to Mini that she put part of her furniture out there too in order to make their room work. Only fair, right? She wouldn't dare.

Before we left, she'd b0pped her head countless times on the bottom of the bed. Tank's college is big on slicing open pool noodles and sticking them to the bottom of a lofted bed to avoid concussions. When we got home, I sent a pool noodle with Tank's friend who goes to Notre Dame. He was leaving the next morning.  

STRATEGIC ERROR #3:

I wore a pair of sandals that I love. Naot, I think. I've had them forever. Maybe too long - I wonder if they are too lose fitting now as the straps have stretched out. They're very comfortable, but they failed me. Big time. We walked around campus so much that I ended up with a blister on the ball of my foot. Thankfully, I packed a different pair of sandals for the next day and they have a high arch support that immediately took the pressure off my poor blister. I survived.

OUR ALMOST-ERROR:  

I have more to report on the drop off, but let me just jump ahead to this very close call that would've been a big road bump. 

Coach and I walked out of the hotel with all of our stuff Saturday morning. We were heading home Saturday night. The schedule given to us by the university noted that Sat. night it was time to say good-bye. Yikes. So soon?

Don't try this at home. Or in a hotel
 parking lot while out of town.
(dabs brow of sweat just looking
 at the photo evidence)

As we approached the car in the parking lot, Coach fumbled the car fab, dropped it, and watched as it BOUNCED.OFF.THE.GRATE.ON.A.SEWER. that he happened to be standing on. It cleared the grate and landed a few inches away. 

We stood there for a full minute. Staring at the key fab. At each other. Back at the ground. Imagine that text from Mini, if she thought the misplaced wallet made for a lengthy delay. With our eyes bugging out of our heads, we exchanged feelings of gratitude, loaded the car, and headed over to see our frazzled freshman. 

More on the frazzled bit soon.  

Even lost a key fab? Did your college kid like his/her roommate? Gotten a blister at an inopportune time? From shoes that you formerly swore by? Know anyone concussed by his/her lofted bed? 

4:56 am, Do like Elsa, not your mother's college move in, & a funny video clip

Yesterday was Memorial Day, so I'm posting on a the unofficial Monday of this week.

Thank you for the many wonderful and flattering comments on my 1,000th post. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'm tempted to celebrate this, my 1,001st post, in hopes of seeing another uptick in comments. In other words, don't be shy. Seriously, I so appreciate that you all visit and are interested in the world of the Shenanigans. 

*I forgot to mention that when Mini squirted her opponent in that video clip, the opponent calmly stated:  YOU EARNED THAT. 

Great quote. I died. 

****************

DO LIKE ELSA:  

When I went to bed the night before we were driving Mini to Notre Dame I set my alarm for 7:20ish. I'd stayed up later than I wanted and while I'm almost always up right at 6:00 am, I hoped to sleep a little longer. We planned to leave at 8 am. 

At 4:56 am, a time that my brain believes is THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, an alarm went off. Coach crawled over me, or jumped up, or behaved in some way to make we feel like he was shaking me awake. Granted, I was in a deep, DEEP sleep - as I should've been. So, I was confused. 

I stumbled into the bathroom, which is where Coach and I both plug our phones in.  Coach was ahead of me. I entered the bathroom and he turned around (after turning off his phone alarm) to leave the bathroom and we bumped into each other. 

Me:  WHAT?

Coach:  HUH? 

Me:  WHY DID YOU WAKE ME UP? I HAVE MY ALARM SET ALREADY. WHAT DO YOU WANT?

Coach:  I DIDN'T WAKE YOU UP. 

Oh, I beg to differ. Turns out he forgot that since he wasn't going to work he didn't need to have a back up alarm set (he wakes up to the alarm clock on the nightstand, but he tends to wake up before it goes off. He keeps an alarm on his phone as a backup - in case of a power outage, etc.)

Coach went back to bed. I went to the bathroom, then tried to go back to sleep . . . with NO SUCCESS. My mind was, in a word, busy. 

Tired, fuzzy-head mode was NOT how I anticipated driving Mini to school. I tried to slip back into sleep mode after being jolted awake for almost an hour (it still seemed to me like he'd grabbed me and shaken me awake, as in THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE, making it hard to recover from). Finally, I hopped up and went for my run. I'd been willing to skip my run, but now I thought "if I don't run I will feel miserable at having been awake and not worked out." 

I was looking for a photo for this post. Here's
a picture of the girls in the kitchen. Mini's shirt: 
 ND, class of '26.This was in July, so before move
 in, but that shirt leapt out at me. 

I told myself to move on. Do like Elsa and let it go. I hoped that after an exhausting run, I'd be able to nap in the car for a few minutes. Alas, I did not nap in the car. And try as I might, I still felt grouchy. I barked at Coach a little before we left the house. I felt bad, because I know he didn't mean to wake me up. He knows me after all, and he knows HOW MUCH I value my precious sleep. He did apologize eventually. I (mostly) put it behind me. 

Preferring to be the first person to arrive in the room, Mini was bummed that her randomly-assigned-roommate was arriving before us. We'd signed up for a move in time slot in advance:  11 am, because South Bend is weirdly an hour ahead of Chicago and I figured we could leave at 8 am and not be overly tired. If only. 

NOT YOUR MOTHER'S COLLEGE MOVE IN PROCEEDURES:  

We arrived at the parking lot 'staging area' and waited in a line of cars. We were 15 minutes early. The parking lot workers used walkies to communicate with each dorm and then waved us through when we had permission to proceed. 

This is a new and improved approach to college move-in days of yore. My other kids' colleges did something similar, so I wasn't surprised. Thank you 21st century for assigned move in time slots and organization. 

I told Mini that my father was insufferable on my move in day. 

Mini:  What? Why?

Me:  Well, you've met him. My father is not a patient man. In the time of the stone age, they didn't assign upperclassmen the chore  of assisting new freshmen with moving in. Waiting for a free elevator alone almost did him in. 

Mini:  Oh, gosh. 

The heat, the lack of dollies, the unavailable parking spots in front of the dorm, the perky other parents, the amount that I brought (which really was NOTHING), and because it was a source of real drama, I'll again reference the waiting for an elevator.

There was much grumbling under his breath and head shaking. I noted with envy other parents and their friendly demeanors and helpful attitudes. My parents got me settled in my room. I believe they left about two hours after dropping me off for a reason that I cannot recall. I think my dad and I attended an informational meeting about studying in Ireland. They skipped the picnic dinner, the welcome mass the next morning, and any other activities. 

I remember standing on the steps of the dorm. My parents said good-bye. No tears were shed, but maybe Mom sniffled a bit. Then they hopped in our '76 red Chevy Impala station wagon and drove down the picturesque tree-lined street. Dad rolled his window down, blared the horn, and hollered:  three down, two to go!

I lowered my hand mid-wave and hurried up the steps of the dorm, hoping no one would connect me with the car. This was my dad's version of a dad joke. He thought he was very clever. That was one way to avoid tears, but I wasn't going to cry anyway. 

**********

This is a video clip Reg shared with me. I'd forgotten about it. It was July 1. A month before Reg's seizure. It's only relevance is that it is a sweet summer memory of my goofy kids. Tank driving. Mini badgering him in the front seat. Reg the camera man. On the way home from caddying. 

**********

Coming soon:  roommate situation, move-in errors made, how Mini is faring, Jenny in WV's prize, and expensive medical bills. Any guesses on whether or not we pulled away honking and hollering after dropping Mini? Have you been awakened by a run-amuck alarm?