Short postcards I wish I'd sent from vacation . . .

 Dear December-Self,

Thank you for deciding to rent a condo with two bathrooms. Present day self was too busy before the trip to look at the listing to check that we rented a place with 1 or 2 bathrooms. It was a huge relief to walk into the condo at almost 2 am after a flight delay, a ridiculously lengthy wait to rent a car, and a one hour drive to the rental. 

My people, who were happy to not be sent
 to the club house in the condo neighborhood
 to utilize a bathroom due to overcrowding. 

Current day self owes you an apology for having doubted your intelligence level. Of course, there is Year’s Past Self, who was furious at Coach for reserving a hotel room in Michigan in '18 with not only insufficient beds, but with only one bathroom for 8 people. Giving a shout out to Year's Past Self for surviving that disaster. 

You rock,

Current Day Self

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

Dear I-Luv-My-Car Uber driver,

If you get a call to pick up 6 people heading to O’Hare airport, utilize your common sense. Recognize that said travelers might possibly, or shit - let's go out on a limb and say: these people will most definitely be expecting a ride to the airport for their luggage too. Perhaps you should cease being an Uber driver if you say repeatedly:  "Sir, sir, I don't want this strain on my car. Sorry sir, I can't drive you. Understand, I don't want this strain on my car."  - after the people have put their things in the trunk and agreed to carry some bags on their laps. Perhaps it would've been best to decline the Uber XL ride request, which as far as most consumers of Ubers are aware - designates Extra Large groups, and on an airport run, their luggage too.

Also, a family of 6 bringing mostly small carry on bags and two larger bags to check is not a load that will STRAIN YOUR CAR. 

Exhibit A:  Most of our bags were
 duffel bags that could fit on a lap. 

Out of curiosity, does listening to the radio also tax your vehicle? A silent ride with  you - a man who refused to drive the entire family, forcing my husband to order a second Uber car, was challenging. The silence seemed to present an invitation  to deliver the verbal lashing I so believe you deserved, but alas - I refrained, other than to ask if you thought all we were bringing to the airport was an ID. A man so clueless and ill equipped to do his job has clearly decided to forfeit his tip. 

Signed, 

We-Packed-Light!

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

Dear Newbie Uber Driver,

Driving a customer to O’Hare should be the most basic and anticipated route in Chicago. I understand you are new to Uber, since you told my husband that, but in the future, be sure to follow your GPS directions. My husband had to holler at you when you almost took 294 South - away from O’Hare, the intended stop. Then you didn’t follow the GPS directions a second time and he was not fast enough to correct you. Might I suggest a larger GPS screen in order that you might be able to see what is coming next? 

Sincerely,

Grateful that we all eventually arrived at O’Hare

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

Dear American Airplane Employee,

Thank you for announcing our foster daughters’ names, welcoming them to their first flight. It was a full flight that was taking off late, but that was kind of you to remember.

Much appreciated,

Foster Mom Who Isn’t Shy about Making Weird Requests

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

There are more postcards drafted, but I know you all are busy. I'll share more later. While in Florida, and why is it that Chicago is called the windy city? Florida, what was up with the high winds? I feel like I'm still finding sand in my eyes. Good problem to have though. As I was saying, while in Florida, we managed to settle the lawsuit. That made for a nice vacation.

when life gives you lemons

Before I forget, I have to confess:  I use our camcorder to record all of Reg and Curly's basketball games. Don't worry, I don't bring a tripod. When my brother, Pat, came to one of Reg's games, he witnessed me in video taping mode. 

Pat nudging Ed:  What is your mom doing? Is that a camcorder? I didn't know people still used those.

Hey, now. Does anyone else out there still own and use a camcorder? Remember, I don't own an Apple phone. How would someone ever have enough memory to record full basketball games? Do Apple phones come with unlimited memory? 

My phone is ancient. I hope it doesn't die before I decide if I'm gonna get an Apple phone next. Regardless, I stand by my camcorder. 

***********

Reg had some testing done a few weeks ago. The neurologist ordered him to have a neuro psych test. He said that way if Reg needed any accommodations in college, this test would outline what he might need. I honestly thought they'd find nothing worthy of an accommodation. I assumed it was just standard procedure. 

Reg and I had a zoom Tuesday to get the results. I took about 6 pages of notes. It wasn't good news. His verbal memory is extraordinarily low. She told him that he is very bight and that this doesn't reflect his intelligence, but he has a neuro cognitive disorder due to change in memory related to the onset of seizures. 

Well, I found this 'ole guy
 in my fridge today.
Lemonade anyone? 

I've always thought, Wow, aren't we lucky. Reg had one big seizure. Plus the mini seizures, that he calls Deja Vu. But, he's doing well. 

The first time we met this new doctor, he mentioned that he sometimes can locate the epilepsy and then operate to remove it.

Me:  (nodding, but thinking) Good for you, dude. That's awesome that you can do that for the people who have like constant seizures and tons of complications. 

Now? I'm wondering if Reg is a candidate for that. Will the doc locate his problem area? Operate? Rid him of it? 

Turns out, his memory has been suffering. I think he's only started complaining that he can't remember stuff since the start of this school year. The twin mom, who I used to sit for, is his AP Calc teacher. She texted me earlier in the school year after she met with Reg to help him prep for a test. "It's like we never even met. He takes the test and he doesn't retain anything that we just worked on." 

The lady who did the test could not believe he was in four AP classes. She thinks he should never be given a test that isn't open book. He should be allowed to record all of his lectures. *not with a camcorder. He needs verbal cues. He should be taught using graphs and visual aids. His memory (and there are different parts of memory, but this is the part that she referred to as verbal) is between 1%-5% of what it should be. 

Earlier in the day, his comp sci teacher called me. This isn't the first time he's called. He spoke for 15 minutes, repeating himself over and over again. "I've never worked with a student like this. I meet with him, help him learn 4 vocab words, and then he comes into the next class and he doesn't know the words. He's so lost. I'll give it to him though. He's really persistent."

I explained that Reg had some testing done and that we were getting the results later that day. He continued to tell me how hard it is for Reg to accomplish anything in class. I finally was like:  "Yeah, thanks for the call."

Him:  Wait, what are we gonna do? 

I was like, Yeah, like I said, we're getting the results today and we'll be in touch. 

My big question for the psychologist was "How do we fix this?" 

The psychologist didn't have those answers. We have to ask these questions of the neurologist, who I think is amazing. Reg's next appointment isn't until the end of May. Aunt Leprechaun is a doctor, so I spoke to her yesterday and she gave me some ideas. She thinks there will be meds that can help. He'll need therapy for things, like his poor fine motor skills. He'll need occupational therapy. This explains his ridiculous handwriting. 

Before school yesterday, I suggested to Reg that he drop this comp sci class. This is the only AP class he is drowning in. 

Reg:  Yeah, if the teacher can work with me, I'll stick with it. I don't just wanna quit. 

Well, that blew my mind. 

our counter looks like a pharmacy and
 it sounds like this is just
 the tip of the iceberg

My guess is - Reg's relieved. Finally we're figuring out what is going on with him. I had a heart to heart with him yesterday. I told him that going to college in the fall might not be the best move. Better to figure out what meds work and get him the therapy he needs and THEN go to college when we have a better handle on things. 

We did just meet with his regular neurologist (not the specialist in the city) on a zoom call in the parking lot outside Curly's state game. They decided to up his Zoloft and his Deja Vu episodes have really decreased, so that's good news. 

My heart is breaking for him, but we don't have all of the answers yet. He will be stronger because of this. He's very resilient. The stress of two years of challenges in the basketball program has taken a toll. Guess how mad that makes me? Those damn deja vu mini seizures ramped up during those stressful seasons. 

same old, same old & Mr. Green Pepper off the hook

Update in case you didn't see comments on my last post:  I think a protein ball that I ate had gluten in it. I saw 2 small protein balls in a little container from the cafe at the health club. I thought Coach brought them home for me. His work is connected to the club and if he brought them home then he would've been confident I could eat them. He's very careful. I ate them and texted him a thank you. 

Coach:  Not me. 

Huh. Then I realized Lad put them there. Lad typically eats our food. Bringing food to us? Not a thing. He left them in the fridge to eat a little later and forgot they were there. 

They should've been GF, but there were rolled oats in there and I can't eat rolled oats unless they are special, GF rolled oats. I happened to see the doc the next day and she did blood work. Now, because I can see my labs freaky fast, I haven't heard yet from my doc. I suspect that when the number that's a marker for whether or not I'm getting gluten in my diet says 'high', that's not a good thing. Call me crazy. 

I've eaten a few bites of green pepper and black beans over the weekend and I've lived to tell about it. No issues. 

Oh, the downer Debbie news? The doc told me that I'll probably have SIBO for the rest of my life. She said we can keep treating it with antibiotics, but that it'll probably keep coming back because of celiac. Not gonna lie. That sucked the wind out of me. There are worse things though. 

Onto my regularly scheduled post.

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

When Curly's team won sectionals on Thursday the 22nd, I called my folks on my drive home from the city. I was PUMPED. I told my dad:  "Clear your calendar. Curly's playing in the super-sectional game Monday night at home." 

My parents don't usually go to away games and they live really close to me, so I often take them to games in our home gym. It was freakish luck that our school happened to be hosting the super-sectional game.

Bit of background:  When Mini was a junior the high school team won 2 games. All season. So, a winning season let alone a regional, a sectional and a trip downstate - unthinkable. 

On Monday, I asked Mini to call my parents to see if they wanted to go to the game early with me, or later with Coach. I was getting there early to get good seats. Remember Mini came home with us on Sunday after parents' weekend. The lawyer needed me to write up how the situation had impacted Reg, and I was busy editing that.

While I was throwing dinner on the table and discussing things to add to the statement for the lawyer, I asked Mini:  So? Am I picking them up or is Dad? 

Mini:  Nana sounded confused. Da was in the background saying they weren't going to that game. 

What? I called and spoke to my father, thinking he was confused.

Me:  Dad, the game is at South. Are you coming? 

Dad:  I'm not going to that game I'm going to the game at Central, not South. 

Me:  What? The game is AT south. What is happening at Central?

Dad:  Naz girls are playing at Central and I wanna see that game.

Me:  What? Is Fidelma playing? (my freshman niece who is on a JV team at Naz that my brother, Pat, her dad, coaches).

Dad:  No. Pat is coaching. I want to go watch that game.

Me:  (feeling like someone sucker punched me in the gut) Pat is a JV coach. Varsity is playing. He'll be sitting on the bench with the coaches, but you want to go to his game instead of Curly's game? If Curly wins, she goes to state, in the final four. Do you get that? What about Mom?

Dad:  Yeah, I get that. Mom's coming with me. *My mom 100% didn't understand that she'd be missing Curly's game. She gets confused and while she knows our faces and our names, mostly, situations and competing scenarios throw her off. 

Me:  Dad, just so you know, I find this very upsetting and I'm having a hard time understanding how you could skip Curly's game. Mom doesn't understand that she'll miss Curly's game. You don't have a grandchild playing in that game. Curly IS PLAYING. 

Dad:  Yeah. OK. I'm going to Pat's game. 

I wanted to scream BUT PAT IS NOT PLAYING IN A GAME. 

Coach's parents sent Curly
 these balloons to
 congratulate her on 4th in state, which
 was very sweet. They winter in SC,
 but watched games online.

I hung up and texted Pat, asking him if he knew Dad's plan. Pat texted back that he'd seen him the day before and tried to explain to him. He wasn't sure Dad understood the magnitude of Curly's game. And that Mom was just deferring to dad. 

Me:  Same old, same old. 

Pat:  What's 'same old'? I can text him after my pregame meeting in a few minutes.

Does the favorite kid really NOT get the favoritism? 

Mini and Coach urged me to blow it off and get to Curly's game. Mini pointed out that it isn't Pat's fault. I never said it was. As Mini and I hopped in the car, my dad called, We're coming to Curly's game. I told him Coach would pick him up. 

After the crazy exciting game, a game that Curly played amazing in, a game in which she played almost every minute of, rarely sitting, Mini and I were crying, hugging everyone, and taking pictures. I took a pic of my folks with Curly, and I told my dad:                                                              You almost missed this. 

And maybe if he didn't care, I should've let him miss it. 

It's been years since I lived under my parents' roof, since they gushed about everything Pat did, even when I was doing similar stuff. 

Exhibit A:  When I was a senior in high school, I was babysitting a few doors away on a school night. My mom called to let me know that a nun, who taught at my school, had called the house to speak to me. She'd be calling me at the babysitting house. Hmm, OK.

Sr. Mary:  The Kairos retreat team met tonight. We've been praying about students to lead the next retreat. Your name came up. Don't decide right away, but pray about it and come to the chapel in the morning. 

When I got home and told Mom, she rolled her eyes. "Great. One more thing to keep you busy and away from your studies. Do you really think your grades are good enough to get into college? How will you have time for this?"

I ended up being the assistant director of the retreat team, my best friend, Fozzy, was the director. It was one of the most meaningful, and fulfilling experiences of my young life. 

Oh, by the way - I was an A/B student with the occasional C mixed in. I was a good kid. I studied, had really nice friends, babysat and saved every dime I made for college. My parents' expectations were unrealistic. I see that now, but the things they said and the constant disappointment was hard. I could've rebelled and ended up going down a completely different path. My mom was in the convent for awhile. She was almost a nun. I can only surmise that something in her adult life was frustrating her and I was an easy target. Whatever the deal was, it sucked.

Fast forward to the next year. Fall of my freshman year of college, Mom called me in my dorm room. She was over the moon excited. "Pat has been asked to be a leader on the next Kairos retreat. Such an honor! It's such a good role for him. The teachers know what a leader he is."

Me:  Oh, yeah? Great. I remember when I was asked to do the same thing last year, Mom. Talk to you later. I gotta go. 

Pat may not have known about that phone call, but there were plenty of times when he witnessed the favoritism. Maybe he didn't know. Ed was favored by the water polo coach in high school. He recognized it and he hated it. He saw how the coach treated him vs how she treated other kids. It made him cringe. 

It drives me nuts that I'm an adult and this stuff still happens. Some things will never change. 

A crazy, mullet-less guy at our window, And other tidbits

 We are home. And I feel great*. It feels like I've shed a layer. That layer is basketball. I love watching my kids play basketball, but sheesh. This year took a toll, obviously. 

Curly's team:  first ever team for boys or girls to go to the final four. My kid made history. Look at that. I feel like my other kid made history too, like - 'no one pushes a Shenanigan around and gets away with it' kind of history. 

The girls played hard, but we lost our first game after being ahead most of the 1st half. Curly played one of her best games, which was so exciting. She scored 11 points, more than anyone on her team or on the opposing team. 

Bad news, good news:  Bummer to lose, but that meant the girls played again Friday night. We'd left the house at 7 am sharp, drove 1 hr 45 min to the arena at ISU. We hung out in the lobby of Curly's hotel till the evening game. With her room key, Rae and Kay accessed the pool and Reg accessed the workout room. I napped in the car. My gut didn't cooperate the night before, so I wasn't feeling fabulous. That 15 minute snooze in the car was a game changer. 

We lost the 2nd game by 3 pts. We were down by about 10 points for awhile, but we hit a couple of three pointers in the last minute. With 6 seconds left, we were down by 3 and the other team had the ball. Game over.

4th in state is nothing to sneeze at, especially when our girls' team won a total of 2 games Mini's junior year season. That wasn't long ago. Talk about a turnaround. 

The good news was that if Curly had won, she'd play again Saturday night and that would've meant we'd have to cancel our trip to Creighton.

Instead? We left the arena (the girls got medals and another mom took a video of the awards thing, because we bolted) and drove almost 3 hours to Coralville, Iowa. Woke up early, and drove 3.5 hours to Omaha.

I dropped Reg and Coach off at the Creighton vs Marquette game. Tickets were $90/each. It was supposed to be Curly and Reg going to the game, but she stayed back with her team. A second before Coach got out of the car, when I was gonna jump in and drive, a man came up to the driver's side of the car and POUNDED on the window and shouted at Coach.

It was alarming. Coach looked at the guy, then turned straight ahead, looked out the windshield, and mumbled, "I know this guy." Then shouted "Mark!" 

I recognized the guy's face, but Coach placed him before I did. If he'd still had the mullet with the permed curls on his neck, I'd have pegged him right away. 

Coach jumped out of the car and he and Mark started wrestling, play fighting right there in the hotel parking lot, where we'd pulled in to switch seats/hop out. It was hilarious. Rae and Kae were in the back of the minivan, wondering if Dad was fighting this guy for reals. Reg hopped out and met Mark and his son. Turns out Mark's son is a junior and Tank knows him. So very funny. 

While the guys were in
 the game, we walked
 around this art place and
 saw someone glass blowing.
 Unexpected surprise.

Creighton beat 5th ranked Marquette. The boys saw a great game and the girls and I walked campus, checked out some shops, and then they swam in the hotel pool before we met the group of parents and students at a rented out room in the back of a bar for all-you-can-eat and drink, until the max was met. 

Guess what? The max was met before I even walked in the door. Some people were very thirsty, apparently. It really was stupid. It cost us $210 ($45/person and they agreed to do $25 for the 3 kids) for the 6 of us to join this party and we had to buy our own drinks. There was nothing GF available, but the server took pity on my and made me an amazing salad. I also had to buy Reg dinner because all the meat was gone before he got in line. A few of Tank's buddies admitted later at his house that their parents had boycotted because it was so overpriced.

Me to Tank's roommates who attended my tailgate last year:  HEY, NEXT TIME WE DO THIS, I'LL JUST BRING 3 CROCKPOTS OF CHILI AND WE'LL HANG RIGHT HERE AT YOUR HOUSE. 

The boys were in total agreement. They were like, IT'S THE GIRL MOM'S (in the girl house next door to them). THEY ALWAYS HAVE TO GO OVER THE TOP. 

Well, this boy mom won't make that mistake twice. 

Anyway . . . 

It was an epic season and spring is in the air, and I am here for the next chapter of life, which happens to include Curly playing some level of soccer. She missed tryouts because basketball went longer than anyone thought. She will tryout tomorrow. Reg tries out for boys' volleyball tomorrow.  

When we got home at 2:45 this afternoon from Creighton, by way of Normal Illinois for Curly's state games, I went for a run. Reg and I went to mass (Coach took the girls to a teaching mass at our parish) and everything seemed fresh and manageable and relaxed. I had an overwhelming urge to clean my house. Top to bottom. So, maybe that will happen. The kids will have games, but they are playing these sports more for fun than for 'THIS IS MY MAIN THING AND IT IS ALL I CARE ABOUT' and if I miss a game, because I can get a few things done at home - well, then I will embrace the opportunity. 

* I admit that after my run, my back is worse. I don't think I shared, but I put my Christmas houses box away in the crawl space solo weeks ago and that might've been a wee bit dumb. I screwed up my back. The box is 4.5 feet tall and I turned it on its side, then lifted it while turned, in order to fit it in the crawl space. She says, even though she's married to a PT and she KNOWS better. I also admit that both elbows are messed up BIG TIME since I drained the meat for my four crockpots of chili in the fall. I need to get on Coach's schedule. 

Also, I need to start working on Reg's graduation video. If you're new here, that's a time consuming pet project that I tackle with a perfectionist energy  that is all consuming. Each time the graduating kid is blown away by the results. Please Lord, let all fav video clips and photos show themselves and not make me search through every.single.clip and let the hard drive not hate me for taxing it too much. 

4th in State, baby!!!! 

Favorite songs I should include or consider on the video project? Which room should I deep clean first? Have you run into an old friend and fake duked it out with said friend? I'm thinking that's more of a guy thing. 

Also, I spent some time catching up on responding to your comments. I'm not done yet, but thanks for your patience.

Coming up next, a story that will tick you off, most likely.