Airbnb, you have a GLITCH, which means I'm not crazy (or at least not completely crazy)

GLITCHY:  I'd reserved an Airbnb AGAIN for our Oct 14th tailgate in order to secure a good parking spot. We hadn't committed to tailgating for this rainy Oct. 14th game until mid September when Mini requested that we host. 

Her friends' parents who planned to tailgate were coming from the east coast and wouldn't have all the 'gear.' We're only 1 hr 45 min away from campus, plus a 1 hour time change. I didn't want to pay for another over-priced Airbnb, but I felt responsible for the happiness of the group and early morning camping out in the rain for a prime spot equates to happiness when you are dumb enough to drink the Kool-Aid. 

I'd reserved an Airbnb that was more than we could afford. We toyed with what to do, if we cancelled it. 

    1.  I could drive to Notre Dame at 3 am and get in line at the parking lot by 6 am, local time. Then nap in my car while waiting hours to start setting up.

    2.  I could drive in Friday night and sleep in my van (down my the river- I can't say 'in my van' without adding this phrase, RIP Chris Farley). I could shower in Mini's dorm after securing the spot.

No great alternative. We had to decide. The Airbnb had to be cancelled by Oct. 8th.

On Oct. 3rd, Coach hadn't left for work yet. I checked Airbnb and low and behold, there was an apartment for rent for less than half of the one (hosted by Barb) I'd already reserved. It was farther from campus, but SO WHAT? Coach joined me at my laptop. He agreed, RENT THIS PLACE, CANCEL THE OTHER PLACE. I did. 

Me (to Coach, while he was packing his lunch on the other side of the island):  OK, MY SCREEN SAYS 'THIS RESERVATION HAS BEEN CANCELLED.'

Because I refused to make the same stupid mistake AGAIN, I was VERY deliberate. I thought about snapping a photo of the screen, but tots were getting dropped off and I needed to get in motion. One of my issues with Barb's place was that it was more of a traditional B and B, and I wondered where I'd plug in my 4 crockpots of chili, if I didn't have access to a kitchen. 

Imagine my surprise days before the tailgate when I got a message from Barb- the one I DID CANCEL. "Looking forward to hosting you this weekend." 

WHAT THE HELL? I got sweaty and clammy and had to sit down. How is this happening again?

Bad news:  There has to be something wrong with my account. I was VERY methodical with my canceling. Looking back, I never got an email confirming the cancellation, but why would I look for that when my screen said it was cancelled? I get so many emails from Airbnb. LEAVE A REVIEW. Or the very similar DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A REVIEW. 

Barb was very understanding. AND - I'd emailed her an explanation of why we were cancelling back on that Oct. 3rd morning, because we'd corresponded a bit and I didn't want to be rude . . .  but now there is no trace of my email in my Airbnb account. WTF? 

I posted on the Notre Dame FB parent page and found Barb someone else who needed accommodations. She agreed to rent to him for less outside of Airbnb, so maybe I could get her to reimburse me if Airbnb didn't solve the mystery because she did get paid with my MONEY thru Airbnb. 

I called Airbnb and they said they'd look into the issue and call me back within 24 hours. They never called. 

I got a message on my Airbnb account that they'd be emailing me. No email. 

Taking the good with the bad:  I now BELIEVE that I didn't forget to cancel the place back in Sept. I remember when I got the message that the Sept. place was expecting us, I thought NO WAY, I CANCELLED THAT. Then I decided that technology couldn't be wrong. NOW - I see that glitches happen. If it happened once when I was being very CLEAR HEADED, I believe that it happened the time prior when I was just cancelling while on autopilot. 

There must be something wrong with my Airbnb account. I called my credit card company and I'm disputing both charges. Would you believe that the first place that I supposedly forgot to cancel, cost me $1,000? . . . in addition to the place where we DID stay, where I dreamt I was being attacked. I was charged over $600 for Barb's place in addition to the apartment we ended up staying at. 

I have a few stories about that stay too. Funny stories, no horror dreams.  

I'm actually glad the 2nd non-cancelled cancellation issue happened, because while I might sound MORE crazy - I feel less crazy. 

Well, I mean I DID buy fake turf and I DO save parking spaces, but you know what I mean. 

Unrelated:

A friend texted me yesterday. "YOU STOLE A THOUGHT TODAY . . . HOPE ALL IS WELL WITH  YOU, COACH AND THE FAMILY." Isn't that sweet? 

I'd never heard that saying before I met her, have you? Do you or your people use unique sayings? Have you experienced a computer glitch with Airbnb, or some other place? 

tailgate tales: you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll get a glimpse of my level of crazy

TAILGATE MADDNESS:  We tailgated for the ND vs USC game Oct. 14. It had only been 3 weeks since our September 23rd tailgate for the OSU vs ND game. It's an exhausting process and those 3 weeks flew by. I was hoping for decent fall weather, but the forecast was RAIN, RAIN, AND MORE RAIN. And cold. 

I decided to purchase fake grass. We saw other folks with fake grass at our earlier tailgate. I don't like to be a copycat, but I couldn't help myself. Coach was OPPOSED.

Last year recap and fake grass explanation:  remember when I backed into a space for our first tailgate last year - when the woman was saving the spot and she didn't want to budge, and the spot had a grassy area plus a sidewalk behind it? More space to spread out - IDEAL. 

Well, when Coach and I arrived at the butt crack of dawn for our Sept '23 tailgate for the OSU game, the one where I dreamt that the Airbnb host was trying to slit my throat, I hopped out of the car to survey the lot while Coach stayed in the car in line. I planned to direct him towards the same spot, but the parking lot had been redone and that area was reconfigured. People were sitting in folding chairs saving parking spots in the dark. WHAT?

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I grabbed a chair from our car and sat in an end spot till they opened the gates and Coach could drive in. There was an area at the end of each row that would allow more space. I imagine it'll have grass at some stage, but since the lot had just been redone it was a sandy/dirt area enclosed by a cement curb. End spots were the sought-after spots folks were saving. 

Coach:  I THOUGHT WE WERE OPPOSED TO SAVING SPOTS? 

Me:  Yep, but if that's what everyone is doing, well?

I assured him that if someone drove in and ousted me from the saved spot before he arrived in the Great White  (GW) van, I'd surrender it without a fight. I'd just survived a throat slitting in my dream and felt fairly indestructible. Worth a shot. Coach was close enough in line that I didn't have to stand down before he drove in. Did I see a GW imposter drive towards the lot and turn into an adjacent lot that sent me in a panic? Why yes, I did. That wasn't Coach. Phew. 

I'll never put you thru the lengthy detail necessary to detail the phone calls back and forth between us while I camped out in a spot in the dark and he waited in the car. Mostly me alerting him where I was in the lot, so he could drive in and head in my direction (thus my confusion when I saw the other GW). 

Oh, and we had to swap phones. Our parking passes were downloaded to my sucky phone, which he needed to gain entry into the lot. We couldn't figure out how to get the parking pass into my Google wallet - even Lad was baffled, so we used a screenshot. Screenshots are supposedly not accepted by security. 

So, I was in my saved spot nervous that Coach would be denied. My apologies for just detailing part of what I promised to skip. Trying to demonstrate that there is nothing simple about this whole process. 

Anyway - we benefited from having the extra area next to the car in Sept. We noted that some people spread out fake turf grass on their end-spot, dirt area. 

RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY, PREPPING FOR OCT 14TH TAILGATE:  When I saw the forecast (OK, even prior to the forecast - I wanted to have a great setup), I told Coach - WE NEED THAT TURF. As usual, he thought I was crazy. As usual, he wasn't wrong, but the more we heard about rain and the more I reminded him that we didn't want our tailgate guests standing in dirt-turned-mud, which I've begun to liken to Hooverville where one tries to set up a homelike atmosphere out of whatever you have in the back of your car, he wasn't exactly 'on board' but he started to weigh in on the size of the turf piece we would need. 

Lad suggested 6 x 8 pieces of turf like what he bought for his patio for $25/each from Home Depot, which was cheaper than a custom piece. 

The early set up stage. More on that day and the
weather and what I wore in a future post. 

RAISES HAND WILDLY, 3 PIECES- SOLD, to the crazy lady who also hoists a 6'6" Gumby on top of her car. 

A moment of silence here, as I was forced to leave Gumby at home for the Oct. 14th tailgate. He is, after all, a giant green sponge at his core, literally. Between the wind and the rain, he was going to either weigh 800 lbs from water retention after beckoning friends from the roof, or he'd blow down shortly after being positioned and potentially land on someone's grill, or be impaled by an umbrella. 

The other angle, fully set up ready for our guests.
What's that? The stadium a stone's throw
from our tailgate? Why yes, YES it is.
 Boom-ya. Early bird. And check
 out that cute ND tablecloth. 

No joke, Coach and I drove to South Bend Friday afternoon and I continued to contemplate having our kids, who were driving in the next day, drag Gumby along IN CASE the weather cleared up. Insert heavy sighs from Coach here, as I verbalized this thought while we rumbled along in GW with most seats removed in order to accommodate 8-10 coolers, three crockpots full of chili, tables, chairs, 10 bags of chips, fancy tablecloths, and 3 ROLLS OF FAKE GRASS. (victory)

UPDATE ON SAVING SPACES:  On Oct. 14th I sat in the rain to save a spot (see rainy photos, more stories there to follow) and a security guy let me know, just before Coach drove in, that they weren't going to allow saving of spots next year. I told him FINE BY ME. I'M HAPPY TO STAY IN MY CAR. I explained what happened last year. He told me there was an early morning altercation earlier in the season and that they were putting a stop to saving spots. 

This post was out-of-control crazy long, so you'll have to read about the 'you'll cry' part in my next post. HINT:  it has to do with the Airbnb. 

Do you do something that your spouse or family thinks is crazy, or vice versa? And if so, do you get them to join you in the effort? 

to sleep or to have psycho dreams, that is the question, & dream or premonition, & a Kate Update

While Mini is dreaming of having the perfect resume, I'm being tortured each night by my dreams. (I originally wrote this as part of the post about Mini's attempt to join an SIBC group, but I chopped it up. Segway now means nothing, but it was clever at the time, damn it.)

The good news is I'M SLEEPING. I think the acid pills are helping me. They need to be taken on an empty stomach, an hour before a meal. It took awhile for me to get in the habit of taking the one in the evening before dinner. I have no trouble taking one when I wake up, because my stomach is empty and I workout for about an hour before I eat anyway. 

I eat all.day.long. How am I supposed to have an empty stomach an hour before dinner? Well, I'm trying. I've decided that my apple or my protein ball doesn't exactly count as a meal. 

Since starting acid reducing medication, my dreams are vivid and sometimes terrifying. I usually wake up to pee and NOW, while I'm peeing I have to convince myself that EVERYTHING IS OK. IT'S FINE. 

EVERYTHING IS FINE, while I catch my breath. 

I believe the pills are messing with my dreams. I've noted a correlation between the horrifying dreams and whether or not my stomach is as empty as flipping possible. 

What the actual hell? I'll take the unsettling dreams over not sleeping. But Sweet Jesus, can I just sleep like the dead like I used to?

When we slept in the cheap basement Airbnb Friday night a few weeks ago in order to tailgate at Notre Dame, I barely slept. I fell asleep about 45 minutes before my 5:55 am alarm. I was having a nightmare that the guy asleep in the upstairs of the house was the size of a 12 year old boy, so not threatening. He held a knife to my throat while I was sleeping and planned to slit my throat and kill me. 

The dream included a voice was alerting the people sleeping in the basement (Coach and I) that the man in the bedroom was under order to stay in his bedroom. The door had a lock on it. When he escaped, the psych ward of the hospital was alerted and they were trying to warn us. My goal in this nightmare was to escape the basement and to find the more pricey Airbnb where we could be safe (remember - the one I 'forgot' to cancel, and I'll soon have an update on THAT). Dream-versions of Mini and Curly arrived in the basement to help me. Note:  none of my four over-6-feet-tall sons showed up to help me, mind you. 

Unrelated, unless this
kind of food gives
you nightmares. Is it a butt
or is it a potato? 

Then my real-life alarm went off and Coach and I raced over to get our parking spot in the early morning darkness. 

How is this my life? What has become of me? (tailgating lunacy aside)

After we waited a few hours and parked the car in an excellent spot, Coach and I took a jog 3 miles back to the Airbnb so we could shower and eat breakfast and then walk 3 miles back to the car and set up our tailgate. Believe it or not, tailgating lunacy is NOT part of the nightmare. This is the kind of thing I do to myself. 

When we stepped inside the Airbnb and were heading down the basement stairs to our apartment, the Airbnb homeowner opened the kitchen door to introduce himself. We'd arrived so late the night before that we hadn't met him. 

He was very friendly and welcoming, as he had been in all of his messages. 

Us:  NICE MEETING YOU. THANKS. 

When we got to the basement, Coach looked at me in horror.

Coach:   ERNIE, DID YOU SEE HIM? HE'S THE SIZE OF A 12 YEAR OLD BOY. MAYBE THAT WASN'T A DREAM SO MUCH AS A . . . . PREMONITION. 

If you recall though, I wasn't the least bit afraid of this 12-year-old-boy-sized man. I slept like the dead. 

******

KATE UPDATE:  Great news. Kate was discharged from the hospital yesterday. The University has given her folks a furnished apartment on campus while Kate recovers/gets back to classes, etc. Mini was overjoyed to study with her in their common room this afternoon. She pushed Kate in her wheelchair to the library this afternoon for Kate's SIBC meeting. What a difference a week makes. Thank you all for praying/ wishing her well. Much appreciated. 

Other updates soon: adding more tots to my roster, another tailgate, Mini's week at home, etc. I've started reading Ann Patchett's The Dutch House, and I love it. Thanks, Nicole for the recommendation. I don't usually carve out reading time except when I'm going to sleep. The sign of a good book:  I CAN'T WAIT TO GET TO BED.  

Do you feel like certain foods influence your dreams?  Have you read The Dutch House, or another Ann Patchett book? 

truly terrifying situation, not Halloween related

I'm gonna do my best to summarize this long story. 

THE CALL:  

Last Tuesday (Oct. 10th), I was driving from Curly's volleyball game to pick up Ed from the train. Mini called. She was sobbing, barely able to get words out. 

Me:  OK, OK. I'M HERE. WHAT'S WRONG.

Mini:  MOM, DID YOU HEAR ABOUT KATE?

Me:  UN, NO. WHAT'S WRONG?

Mini:  SHE HAD A CUT ON HER LEG. SHE FELL DURING THE DANCE SATURDAY NIGHT. (remember the dance with the mystery date thing) URGENT CARE SAID SHE WAS FINE YESTERDAY, BUT SHE REALLY WASN'T. WE BROUGHT HER TO THE ER THIS AFTERNOON. HER BP WAS 50. MOM, I'M SO SCARED. SHE'S SEPTIC. SHE NEEDS SURGERY AND THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT AMPUTATING HER LEG. THEY SAID THIS IS LIFE THREATENING. 

Me:  OK. LISTEN. YOU NEED TO TAKE A BREATH. SHE'S AT THE HOSPITAL. THE DOCTORS WILL DO THEIR WORK. DO NOT GOOGLE. (too late) WHERE ARE YOU? I WANT YOU TO WALK TO THE GROTTO. LIGHT A CANDLE. PRAY, MINI. PRAY FOR KATE. PRAY FOR HER DOCTORS. PRAY TO KATE'S GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

Mini:  OK. I WILL. I HAVE A MIDTERM TOMORROW. I CAN'T STUDY. 

Me:  DO YOU WANT ME TO DRAFT AN EMAIL FOR YOU WHEN I GET HOME AND THEN YOU CAN JUST CUT AND PASTE IT AND LET THE PROF KNOW. HE'LL LET YOU RESCHEDULE.

Mini:  YES. (she ended up emailing him on her own before I got home)

Me:  OK. I'LL CALL YOU WHEN I GET HOME. TRY TO STAY CALM, MINI. I LOVE YOU.

Mini:  OK. I'M JUST SO SCARED. I DON'T WANT HER TO DIE, MOM. CAN YOU TELL DAD? 

Me:  YES. I'LL TELL DAD. BYE HONEY. 

Mini:  BYE. LOVE YOU. 

BIGGER KIDS, BIGGER PROBLEMS: 

A few years ago a mom I was babysitting for and who is now my dear friend told me this when we were discussing Lad's issues. I'd never heard that before, but so true.

When Ed hopped in the car, I was crying and shaking. He was like, WTF? I called Coach at work, his late night. He said Mini had been texting him during the day, seeking medical advice. He thought this girl sprained her knee and she had a low threshold for pain. Coach assured me that septic was treatable, if caught in time and if the patient was this young. I calmed down. 

At home, I called Mini. She was a wreck. She and all 13 of her friends had gone back to the hospital (Mini was one of the girls who'd brought Kate to the ER initially. After she returned to campus a girl who stayed behind called sobbing, telling everyone how grim it was sounding). 

Coach came home while I was on the phone. He had me ask Mini if anyone's parents were at the hospital. No. Kate's from NJ. Her folks wouldn't be there till the next day. I told Mini we were gonna figure things out and one of us might drive in (1 hr 45 min) and I'd call her right back. 

Coach:  I'll go. I just have to leave the hospital by 4:30 am (time change working in our favor on the way home) to see my first patient here. I do better on no sleep than you do.

Me:  Do you think you should go because of your medical background? (the answer was NO) Well, then I'll go. I've got Tank and Reg (no school for seniors as under classmen were testing) here to cover my babysitting. I'll cancel the one family with the little baby. I have to be back for my doctor's appointment at 9:50 am, but hopefully her folks will be there by then.

We agreed. It was almost 8 pm. Tank started loading my GF snacks in a cooler with some Coke for the drive. Another mom called me as I ran upstairs to grab my contact lens case and a change of clothes. Her daughter is another one of the roomies. She told me that the two moms in Glenview (another Chicago suburb on the north side) were already on their way to the hospital. She knew I had my doc appointment. 

Mrs. Benson:  STAND DOWN, ERNIE. TWO MOMS ARE ON THEIR WAY.

I still contemplated going. I felt so helpless and I felt like Mini needed me, but ultimately I decided to stay home. 

Mini texted me late that night to say surgery went well and the two moms had just arrived. Coach had said they'll take out the infection and she should be OK. Mini had said things about kidney failure, etc. But Coach kept saying SHE'S YOUNG. SHE'LL BE OK. I went to bed thinking she was out of the woods. 

The next morning, Mini told me that a doctor came in that morning and offered Kate breakfast, but she knew she was having another surgery and she wasn't supposed to eat. Mini was like WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PLACE? LIKE WE DIDN'T KNOW WHICH HOSPITAL TO BRING HER TO. WHAT IF THIS PLACE SUCKS?

I told her I'd call her after my doc appointment (which was fine, BTW - basically a shrug fest and a decision to re-test for SIBO). A few hours later, Mini was a puddle again. The two moms left thinking Kate's folks were due soon and an aunt was driving in from Michigan (the aunt didn't end up coming and the parents decided to drive, so they weren't coming in until 5 pm Wed. evening). I contemplated driving there again, but a mom from the south burbs drove in for the day. 

One of the girls asked the doctor if Kate was over the hump and he said NO. THIS IS A FULL COURT PRESS. I was baffled, until Mini texted new info. 

Kate had a flesh eating bacteria. 

OH, SHIT. This sent me into a tailspin. Mini said a girl in another dorm sent all the info to her dad, who is an ER doc. He texted her back and said TO BE FRANK, THIS ISN'T GOOD. Mini and I were both crying as I drove home from my doc appointment. I kept trying to be encouraging, but I was not sure what to tell her anymore.

Coach came home early. I was walking the tots to the next neighborhood before naps to look at Halloween décor, sort of a weak ass outing as far as outings go -but under the circumstances I was like THIS IS FINE. WE'RE HAVING FUN, and I tried not to let them see me cry. 

Coach had reached out to Laura, his coworker whose bestie is married to an infectious disease doctor, Sam. According to Coach 'Sam's kind of a big deal.' Laura called Sam, who was on vacation in Italy.

Coach called me:  WHERE ARE YOU? (next neighborhood checking out the huge dinosaur skeleton, why?) OK. I'M WALKING THERE. SAM IS CALLING US FROM ITALY AND YOU KNOW MORE ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENING THAN I DO. I WANT YOU TO TALK TO HIM.

I spoke to Sam while Coach pushed the stroller back to the house. He was VERY helpful. Sam, not Coach - I mean, well - you catch my drift. Coach would NEVER bother someone and the fact that he reached out to a guy in Italy, well- it meant the world and this guy was HUGE. He gave us so much information and hope. I asked if he thought Kate should be moved to a hospital in Chicago vs. leaving her in South Bend. 

Sam (who happened to be an ND grad): Constantly going in and scraping out the dead tissue and checking for growth is the only way. Not going back in is when things go south. Her kidney function might dip, but they'll help her with that and she'll bounce back because she's young. She's right where she needs to be. I wouldn't move her. She isn't stable. Once her BP stabilizes without the help of meds, that'll be a very good sign that the infection is under control. Antibiotics might help a tiny bit, but opening the leg repeatedly is the answer. This is just a girl who got unlucky. Ran into a bad germ. It's rare, but it happens. Feel free to share my number with her parents or anyone else, if they'd like to run things past me.

I got all choked up when Mini texted me
this photo. Kate is sitting in the chair to
 the right. Mini:  WE BROUGHT HER ND
 BANNER THAT YOU MADE FOR HER
 AND HUNG IT IN HER HOSPITAL ROOM. 

Oh, AND - THOSE GIRLS? HER FRIENDS? THEY SAVED HER LIFE. IF THEY'D WAITED . . . IF THEY HADN'T DECIDED TO TAKE HER TO THE ER, WELL - SHE'D BE DEAD. 

The doctors at the hospital told Kate the same thing. If they'd waited till Wednesday instead of Tuesday, she wouldn't have made it. It makes me shudder to think about.

UPDATE:

On Friday, while I was prepping food for my ND tailgate, Mini texted. 

"The doctors just told Kate and her folks, Kate has turned a corner." 

She's continued to improve ever since. After maybe 5 surgeries or openings of her leg in 6 days, they hadn't seen any new growth since day 1. They closed up her leg last night. 

We are so very grateful that Kate is recovering. Life is so precious. What are friends for, if not to say HEY THAT URGENT CARE PLACE WAS SHIT - LET'S SEE WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON. 

Welcome home, Tank - the tale of a scatterbrained mother

Months ago, I booked Tank a flight to come home for fall break. I felt so 'ON IT'. I couldn't believe the amazing price of the ticket. I input his email address so he'd get the itinerary. He hadn't left for college yet.

Tank:  UM, I SEE THE FLIGHT YOU BOOKED ME. IT'S BACKWARDS. YOU HAVE ME LEAVING FROM CHICAGO AND GOING TO OMAHA, BUT I WILL BE COMING FROM OMAHA TO CHICAGO.

Damn. No wonder it was a good deal. I was able to cancel it with no fees. Thank goodness SOMEONE was paying attention.

When I got with the program and scheduled the flight properly, it was not cheap. He ended up finding a kid who could drive him home, so we cancelled the first leg of the trip. Thank you Southwest for making that a breeze. Now he has a credit and it'll be like found money when we go to book him on another flight. 

The room the 3 boys share is a disaster. I meant to clear off Tank's bed and put on fresh sheets before he got home Friday afternoon the 6th. He is capable of putting on his own sheets, but it isn't his fault that the room is in a state of upheaval. What on earth happened to my son, Ed? He's always been a NEAT freak? Remember when he swapped his full size mattress for the twin because his mom never realized it was cruel to expect a 6'4" guy to sleep in a twin? Well, his twin mattress has been leaning against the desk, partially blocking the entrance to the room he shares with Reg, and Tank when he is home, ever since. 

I was falling asleep on the couch Friday evening when Tank left to hang out with friends. 

Tank: WHERE ARE THE SHEETS FOR MY BED? 

Me:  OMG - I MEANT TO DO THAT. I'LL PUT SHEETS ON IT WHILE YOU'RE OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS.

I woke up Saturday morning and was like OH CRAP. I'd gone to bed and not handled his sheets.  

Saturday Tank and I went to the library. He had some studying to do. I'd made tablecloths for our ND tailgate a few weeks ago using the library's sewing machine because mine was giving me attitude. I'd planned to iron on some shamrock patches cut from the same fabric, but when I pressed the edge of the fabric before sewing the hem the fabric MELTED. It was outdoor fabric, and I'd never worked with anything like that before. I pivoted, asking to use the embroidery machine at the library maker studio. 

Who has time for a project even though life is busy? Not me, but hey - sometimes prioritizing something fun is just the refresher I need to breathe. 

I did the shamrocks on the small tablecloth (video below) in time for our first tailgate. Saturday I was embroidering the second logo on the big tablecloth. The day before I'd done one side - not realizing that the design I chose was going to take almost 2 hours. Silly me, I thought I'd get both sides done in the same visit. 

After I finished up, Tank and I raced off to mass. We met Coach and the other kids there. I jogged to the car as mass got out, because we had friends coming over for smores after dinner and I planned to finish cooking meat for the tailgate chili (to freeze in advance) and I still needed to eat, etc. 

Curly hopped into the car. We got home (less than 2 blocks from church) and it dawned on me that Tank had driven to mass with me, but he wasn't in  my car on the way home. 

Me:  OH, I HOPE TANK WENT WITH DAD. 

I was chopping green pepper for the chili meat when Coach walked in. 

Me:  OH, DID YOU DRIVE TANK HOME?

Coach:  NO. (giving me a look) SERIOUSLY? ~ as he left to go pick him up.

A minute after Coach drove away, I saw my dad's pull up. Tank got a ride with him when he noticed he'd been abandoned. 

Tank (as he walked in wearing a dumbfounded expression, in a VERY HIGH PITCHED TONE mocking me, his loving mother):  WELCOME HOME! IT'S GREAT TO HAVE YOU HERE. 

I did make cherry dessert (usually reserved for special occasions) that I'm serving for dinner while he's home, so I'm not all flakey and useless. 

Worst flight mix up you've made? Or have you forgotten a kid, even a grown kid, somewhere? Do you love a project? Ever use an embroidery machine? Careful - it's addictive. You've been warned. 

a serious conversation, bloody chin aside, Tank, "Let's chat on a flight."

FRESHMAN YEAR FLASHBACK:  Before he went to Creighton, Tank and I zoomed with the resource office. We asked if there were any accommodations for a kid who has a math learning disability, etc. There really weren't, but they assured us that he could use the tutor center and that profs would work with him. 

First semester he was taking business calc. Um, that was tough. In maybe the 2nd week of class, he raised his hand and asked if the teacher could slow down a bit. He was having a hard time following. 

Prof:  WHAT? THIS IS REVIEW. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?

Tank:  OH, WELL. I MEAN IT TOOK ME 2 YEARS OF HIGH SCHOOL TO GET THROUGH ALGEBRA 1, SO I GUESS WE CAN START THERE. 

Prof:  WHY ARE YOU TAKING THIS CLASS? 

Tank:  BECAUSE I'M A BUSINESS MAJOR AND IT'S REQUIRED. 

Prof:  MEET ME AFTER CLASS. 

We tailgate again on Saturday. I found a cheap
airbnb and REMEMBERED to cancel the other,
 more pricey one on time. Look at me, firing on
 all cylinders. This is GW last time, seats and car seats
 removed and a billion coolers loaded
plus tables and chairs and food . . .

Tank met with him after class, but it didn't really help. At the next class, kids said to him that they couldn't believe he'd come back after how terrible the prof was to him. Tank continued to struggle. We were there for family weekend, and Mini computed his grade and what he'd have to score in order to pass. Not feasible. We begged him to drop it. His other classes were suffering. Finally, he dropped. 

He kept telling us that there was something off with the prof. He didn't make eye contact and his social skills really lacked. Tank looked him up. This was the prof's first year at Creighton - his 4th school in 5 years. Creighton fired the guy by late October. Everyone in his classes was given a letter grade higher because of the unfortunate circumstances. 

Tank was ticked that he'd dropped. He initially claimed that everyone got an automatic A, but that wasn't totally accurate. Tank met with the president of the business school to request that he be allowed to be a business major without this one class.

 . . . all of which made a
nice bed for Gumby.
Tank will be with us. I think ALL
of the kids will be in attendance.
When you know you know. 

Before the meeting, Tank cut himself shaving. I cried laughing when Tank called me afterwards to say that he had to hold a Kleenex to his chin the whole time he was talking to the president. I don't remember the particulars, but I think he thought it stopped bleeding but then noticed blood was dripping down his chin just as he was shown into the guy's office. The president DID reference the shaving mishap, as in WE'VE ALL BEEN THERE, but Tank was like HOLY AWKWARDNESS. 

Tank:  NOT SURE HOW SERIOUS THE GUY COULD TAKE ME AS I SAT THERE PLEADING MY CASE WHILE I HAD A BLOODY KLEENEX HELD TO MY CHIN. 

Creighton let Tank take b.calc remotely over the summer. After a few emails, I got them to agree to waive the fees. Mini is really good at calc and she helped Tank. 

Tank had a phone interview last week for a summer internship. I told him to relax and be himself. He later told me that he told his roomies that he has a better chance of landing a job if he sits on a plane next to someone and just chats with them casually, because he gets too worried in a regular interview. 

Unfortunately, Tank didn't get that internship. He's home for fall break for over a week, and we are urging him to reach out to people who we know or people he caddies for, because people who know him will WANT him to work for them. Ed had a great golfer contact for him this morning. We are ON it. 

Anyone know someone hiring for a summer internship in Chicago who would like to arrange to sit next to my son on a plane? 

relax, it'll all work out - says the least-business-geared person alive & Anna, the 'mammogramma'

When I spoke to Mini Monday last week, she was stressed. She'd applied for an SIBC group. I believe that translates to student international business conference, but don't quote me. Students work on a case study for a company and then present their findings. It's very competitive to make a team. 

She was on a team last year and she A)  really enjoyed it, B)  did very well presenting the project to the company, and C)  thought it looked great on her resume. She didn't make it into the first group she tried for this year and was busy prepping her application for another group. 

Later that night Tank called and asked my opinion on whether or not he should do something similar at his school. He said more than once that he'd have to attend meetings 2x a week at 8 am. 

Clearly I fell short of being a driven business student back in my day - she says as she stumbles over a highchair in the kitchen and tosses a dirty diaper in the garbage can compliments of her in-home daycare, so maybe I'm the wrong person to ask, BUT . . . I say RELAX. 

Tank struggles if he misses sleep and I'm all about keeping his anxiety in check. The guy lights up a room. He's Mr. Personality. I'm not worried about his future in sales/business. He's a workhorse, a go-getter, and he'll make you die laughing in the process. Any business will be LUCKY to snag him. I urged him to do what he wanted, but I felt like it sounded like a bit much. I believe he opted to skip it. 

I tried to talk Mini off the ledge. 

Me:  It does NOT matter. There will be other opportunities. 

She was kicking herself, because the project leaders had office hours that she hadn't attended. Her mindset - I did a group last year. I don't need to go ask how it works. I KNOW how it works. In the 11th hour, she heard that office hours were key to get selected. Off she went. Ed likes to remind Mini that brown-nosing would get her better tips on the golf course, and this sounds like a similar mindset. Kiss-up at office hours to get accepted. 

She was denied from her backup group. 

Ed (to Mini): THIS DOESN'T MATTER. I HAD FRIENDS WITH NO BUSINESS EXPERIENCE ON THEIR RESUMES AND THEY GOT HIRED BY TOP, VERY COMPEITITVE COMPANIES LIKE GODLMAN SACHS AND DELOITTE. IT'S ALL ABOUT WHO YOU KNOW. YOU'RE AN EVANS SCHOLAR. YOU'RE AT NOTRE DAME. CHILL OUT. (also, she's killing it in the classroom. She has a really high GPA - which isn't because we demand that sort of thing. I'm always telling her that it isn't the end of the world if she doesn't get an A. This is the one area where she is not my mini-me). 

Ed also said this whole thing sounded a lot like some club everyone was trying to get into in the movie The Social Network. I haven't seen that movie in awhile, but I vaguely remember the storyline. 

I tried the IT'LL ALL WORK OUT. THERE IS NO HOLE ON YOUR RESUME. YOU DID A GROUP AND YOU CAN DO SOMETHING ELSE.

Yesterday she sounded better. One of her friends suggested she reach out to a couple of big wigs in the ND community. Both have ties to ND and run investment groups. They're ga-ga about Evans Scholars. She plans to ask them if they have any projects that she can work on in order to get some experience. 

They weren't joking when they said you're only as happy as your unhappiest kid. 

Since it's October, I thought I'd share my recent mammogram experience. I've been to this location before, but I've never encountered this technician named Anna. She had a thick eastern European accent. 

Anna took charge and who was I to argue? I'm 5'10" and she was taller than me -large enough to make me feel like a pawn in her plan. She bear hugged me from various angles while positioning my parts on the machinery. Wait, was there machinery? It felt more like I was getting a dance lesson from a gentle giant than receiving a mammogram. She spoke in soft tones, and reassured me the entire time, YES, YES. THAT'S RIGHT. OK, AND NOW. ALMOST DONE. The all caps doesn't do her whisper-like voice justice.

She was warm but all business with extreme focus and was so confident in accomplishing her mission that she put me totally at ease. 

Are you a chill out type, or are you the over-achiever type? Have you had your ta-tas checked? If you are local, I highly recommend Anna.

Can this kid catch a break? plus LAD'S IDEA, and pirates

Reg golfed in the conference meet last week, which happened to be when I'd scheduled him to see Dr. M, another pediatric neurologist. Reg's regular, amazing pediatric neurologist, Dr Y wanted Reg to see this other doc - who was his mentor.

There was a months long process of getting insurance to approve the appointment and Dr. M's office to receive whatever referral they wanted, blah, blah blah. 

My kids quote caddy shack A LOT, which
should come as no surprise. I cannot
 write 'while we  were waiting'
without referencing this quote. 

While we were waiting for all the paperwork to fall into place, my brain took a vacation. I finally called to set up the appointment 2 months ago. 

Last week:  HEY REG, WE'RE GOING TO SEE THAT OTHER EPILEPSY DOC ON WEDNESDAY AT 1:30. 

Reg:  I golf in the conference meet that day. 

I cancelled our Sept. 27th appt. The next available appointment was Jan. 8th. The day before Reg turns 18, and thus ages out. He could see the doc the 8th, but what if he wants to see him back?

I found myself in  familiar territory:  call-for-cancellations. 

I scored him a cancelled spot on Dec 11th, but it's downtown at 8 am. No idea what nightmarish traffic  we'll face. So, I'm calling regularly, hoping for a better cancellation IN THEIR OFFICE IN THE BURBS. I'm sensing a tone in the receptionsist's voice that sounds a little like:  OH, HI. IT'S YOU AGAIN. 

Anywho, at the conference meet, Reg missed making it to sectionals by one stroke. Ouch. 

He wasn't too upset. As we all know, his main focus is basketball and he's excited for the season. BUT . . . about a month ago, Reg told Coach that his back hurt. Coach gave him exercises. The pain continued. 

Reg has a weird conversation hiccup. He leads with, "SO TODAY WHEN I RAN, MY BACK FELT . . . (blah, blah). BUT YESTERDAY WHEN I . . . " It's abrupt with no greeting or lead in whatsoever, which is distressing to his parents who are supposedly onboard with sending him to college in a year. Hello, social skills 101.

Last year it was similar, except it was his knees. We're trying to be patient, but instead of having a conversation he speaks in bullet points. Poor Coach treats patients all day and then he gets hit with Reg's body-part update. 

Coach was worried he had a stress fracture, so he took him to an orthopedic buddy. The x-ray showed nothing, so they did an MRI on Friday, which revealed a stress reaction. A stress fracture precursor. Curly had stress reactions in her foot back when she Irish danced.

Coach had instructed Reg 'no running, no jumping' a few weeks ago. There'll be a few more weeks of that, I believe. Then Reg can ease back into everything basketball related. We know this because Coach's fav doc did the MRI, then sent it to Chicago's top spine specialist, who then emailed treatment to Coach - saving us from having to wait weeks for appointments, etc. 

So, Coach works crazy hours and makes less than our awful high school athletic director . . . there are perks with his PT degree. PERKS. 

It does feel like history's repeating itself. Last year, Reg couldn't start the season because of tendinopathy in his knees. This led to his coach, Ego, being angry, second guessing him, and harassing him. 

New coach, same problem - or so it seems. Suckie's been doubting Reg's injury. Reg gave him a doctor's note and still -

Suckie grilled him:  HEY, IF YOU CAN'T RUN- HOW COME KIDS HAVE SEEN YOU SCRIMMAGING AT LA FITNESS? 

Reg:  NOPE, I HAVEN'T DONE THAT SINCE I'VE BEEN UNABLE TO RUN (x number of days).

Suckie:  BUT KIDS SAW YOU. I DON'T KNOW . . . ?

What's even happening? Does he not know Reg would give his right arm to participate fully in OPTIONAL open gym? There could be bloodshed, folks. This guy better back the EF off, because I have no patience for him mistreating my kid.

Been there, done that. 

A few weeks prior, Suckie told Reg that if he could swing a golf club, then he could play basketball. Coach sent a clear message via email - (in so many words) YOU DON'T HAVE ANATOMY IN YOUR BACKGROUND. IF YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT REG'S INJURY FEEL FREE TO REACH OUT, I'M A PT. Coach sent the email from work, because that email lists his credentials. 

Suckie emailed Coach back and addressed him in the email by his first name. 

Coach (in his mind):  WHAT NOW? I HAVE KIDS OLDER THAN YOU. IN SOME CIRCLES I GO BY DOCTOR. MY FIRST NAME? I DON'T THINK SO. 

Suckie failed to address any of Coach's points about Reg's injuries. Instead his email invited Coach to discuss preseason expectations. 

Coach:  YEAH, WE'VE HAD KIDS PARTICIPATE IN APPROXIMATELY 30 VARSITY SEASONS IN THE LAST 9 OR 10 YEARS AT THE HIGH SCHOOL. NO NEED TO REVIEW PRESEASON EXPECTATIONS WITH US. WE'RE WELL VERSED. GOOD LUCK IN YOUR FIRST SEASON. (Suckie was previously a soph coach - this is his first season as a varsity coach, a position he is ill-suited for). 

Then we got Reg's ACT scores back. Not great. I was SO taken aback that I neglected to utilize my poker face. Reg is bright. He's a math whiz. His scores did not reflect that, even though he gets extended time. 

It's hard as a mom to have kids struggle to measure up against standardized tests. Tank and Lad have ADHD and while they're so bright, they're limited. Restricted in what they can do. It seriously sucks. Reg was academically similar to Ed and Mini. Since his epilepsy diagnosis (well before his diagnosis -when he was misdiagnosed with ADHD as an 8th grader), his inattentiveness has been a real problem. He also claims he has no short term memory. 

I followed him to his room where he was sobbing about his scores. I pointed out that in 2023 test scores are optional. It'll be fine. He'll go to a school that he likes and everything will work out. I know he's frustrated. As am I. My heart breaks for him. He does have good grades, but there are some really awful grades when his meds weren't figured out yet and he was still having deja vu all.the.time.

Photo, because it's cute. Becky
and I joined forces and
 walked to this house. This is only a
 fraction of the Halloween
 decor. These people built a pirate
 ship in their yard. There
 are over 40 skeletons, most
 dressed as pirates.
 It was beyond cool. 

Of course there's also his dream to play b-ball in college. Remember that jack ass, Worm, who took our money and then didn't play Reg on his AAU team and we pulled Reg from the team? Well, that was a scout team, so Reg is without a scout team and without a  coach to connect him to a recruiting college. Also, total crap. 

I'm ready for Reg to catch a break. 

In good news, or potentially good news, Lad called Coach last night and told him that he's wondering if he should try the ADD meds the doc prescribed. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but this was his idea. We weren't holding his feet over the coals. Maybe he'll take a med that will click with him and he will see the benefits? 

Prayers and good thoughts are welcome for Lad and for Reg and for Suckie, so I don't have to kick him in the kneecaps. 

Hello GF soup, matchmaking, mystery dates, and sheared

GAME CHANGER:  I don't get a celiac newsletter alerting me of what foods are now available in GF form. I mentioned to Mini's friends the day I met them at the beach that I can't eat many of the meals that I make, because cream of chicken soup is not GF. 

The host mom, whose daughter has celiac:  ARE YOU SURE? I THINK GF IS AVAILABLE. 

Insert image of me running to Google as soon as I returned from the beach. 

Sure as shit, there it was -Campbells makes a GF cream of chicken soup. What now? How did I not know this? I ordered several cans on Amazon. 

Then last week, (drum roll) I made GF Cheesy Chicken, the world's easiest and tastiest meal. I made one piece of chicken for me, and the rest I prepared with gobs of gluten, because the 'real' cream of chicken soup is cheaper and I wasn't confident that the GF one would taste decent. The GF can of soup poured into the casserole dish - it didn't have that typical condensed soup consistency, but my dinner tasted normal. 

We ate it as leftovers last night, and I looked down in alarm after I took one bite. As in, WAIT, AM I EATING GLUTEN? Then I remembered, ALL GOOD. 

MATHCMAKER, MATCHMAKER, MAKE ME A MATCH:  'Gem', our niece, Marie's daughter but I don't hold that against her, is Lad's age. She has a great sense of humor and is full of personality. She's my kids' favorite of Marie's offspring. Is it a coincidence that Gem is MY goddaughter? I think not. 

We have a few nephews (brothers) on Coach's side who are single.  They are 1 and 2 years older than Gem. They live in KC while Gem lives in Milwaukee. I would like to set Gem up with one of the nephews. Either could potentially work, but I sort of think John, the one that's a year older than Gem, would be a good match. 

I was bummed when we attended the ND game Labor Day weekend, when we delivered ice to our friends' tailgate, that John was in town for the game but Gem was not. Dang. Timing, right? 

I've shared with both Gem and John that I'd like to introduce them. They both said OK, but I'm not sure how to proceed. Has anyone had experience in introducing two young adults who live in two different cities? I've considered sending a group text to the two of them with some get-to-know-you questions, so they can text one another their responses. Minus me.  

When I shared my matchmaker plan with Mini, she looked like she might vomit, claiming what I was suggesting was incestuous. Um, NO. Different sides of the family. No blood relation. Duh. She agrees that they'd probably hit it off, but she thinks it would take a lot of explaining for her to possibly one day tell her friends, I'M GOING TO MY COUSINS' WEDDING. 

Have  you successfully matched a couple?

MYSTERY DATE:  Speaking of Mini, she recently was involved in a date draft, which she quantifies as the most fun thing she's ever been involved in. 

Really? I beg her pardon. I wasn't there and we weren't on a covert mission buying things on sale at the mall, so I'm doubting it could've been the MOST fun, but OK sure. Whatev. 

Mini's dorm is having a dance and her group of friends gathered in a conference room. Then each girl left one at a time while the rest of them voted on what guy they would choose as her date with one of those computer survey tallies. The girls will learn who their date is right before the dance. 

Tank will be home for October break that week and there was talk about him attending the dance with the girl who was at our house for Easter. Sadly, he didn't express a great deal of interest, so he was not chosen as this girl's mystery date. 

SHEARED:  Curly got sheared, I mean got her hair cut Sunday morning. It's an annual occasion. The woman, a curly girl specialist, offered to braid it for her since Curly was on her way to a basketball game. I didn't know her POOF hair could be braided, which just goes to show that this woman clearly has super powers. 

Curly's friend, the one whose mom passed away in January, can braid hair and I told Curly that maybe she can braid it on occasion. Note - Curly did not ask me to try to learn, and that is probably for the best. 

Fun fact, please stop me if I've shared this here before:  Curly is approached by black girls at her school about once a week, said girls will ask her 'SO WHAT ARE YOU?'

Curly:  UM, HUMAN.

Girl:  NO, I MEAN WHAT RACE ARE YOU? 

Curly:  OH, I'M WHITE. 

Girl:  ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT MIXED RACE?

Curly: NOPE, I'M NOT. 

(this happens a lot, but once . . . ) Girl:  I THINK YOUR PARENTS ARE LYING TO YOU. 

Curly is able to laugh about the whole thing, but the girl's hair is INCREDIBLY curly. 

My house is SO very organized. Thank you, book club for forcing me to whip this place into shape. It feels wonderful to walk into rooms that are clear of clutter. We were in town this weekend, after being away two weekends in a row, and it was lovely. Now, if we can just keep it this way. Please share your matchmaking skills or fails with me. Any suggestions for how to keep an organized house in order?