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: 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.
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?