Money: you lose some, and then you $pend some, plus an array of recent babysitting pics - last day!

Reg caddied on Monday. By the time he and Curly got to the car before he drove home, he realized that he didn't have the $100 cash money that he'd just earned. He has no recollection of putting it down. Did it blow away, say if he set it on the ground while tying his shoe, or something? He and Curly looked everywhere. They texted Tank and Mini, who were both still on the course, to keep their eyes open. He texted the caddy master. 

The money was not recovered. So frustrating. I wanted to cry. He was so distraught. A whole day's wages. Gone. 

I don't really understand. Is losing things in his possession to be attributed to his compromised verbal memory? This is the first time he has lost his money before getting into the car, but he has claimed that he's missing money or misplaced it shortly after he's arrived home multiple times this spring. *BIG sigh*

*******

This Saturday Coach and I head downtown for parents' weekend. But it's summer, you might wonder. This parents' weekend is not organized by a college, but by Ed and all of his recently (last year) graduated college buddies. This amazing group of guys moved downtown at various times over the last year. I so enjoy spending time with them and with their lovely parents. I'm thrilled that they wanted to create a weekend for all of us to gather. I know one couple that's flying in from California. 

We marked our calendar when Ed shared the date with us. Then, a few weeks ago, he called to fill us in on 'the plan'. We would gather at his apartment. Mingle with the other people. Then go to a bar that is adjacent to Wrigley Field and has a rooftop with a view of the field. 

Oh. Hmm. We aren't Cub fans. We figured we'd do the stuff leading up to the game and then bow out before they entered the stadium, or we'd just get bleacher tickets, assuming that's where everyone would be enjoying the game. This is when the plan was loose and nothing was set in stone and we thought there would be plenty of socializing BEFORE the game started.

* If you're from Chicago, you're either a Cubs or a Sox fan, never both. If someone tells you that they're both, then they weren't born here. It's a fact. Look at Coach. His folks are from Cleveland. He enjoys sports in general and says he likes both Cub and Sox teams, even though he isn't like my brothers and my father who plan their lives around all things baseball. My using Coach as an example might present as a very small sample size, but ask around and I think you'll learn that I'm right. 

If you love the White Sox, then you root for the White Sox and whichever team is playing the Cubs. 

Watching a Cubs game from a rooftop isn't gonna kill the event for us. We just aren't really into baseball. It won't kill me either, because I don't have to cheer. I can remind myself that I'm there, in the bleacher seats, enjoying time with friends. 

I was raised on the White Sox. Ask me who Carlton Fisk is. Harold Baines. Carlton played catcher in the 80s. Harold, right field. Coach finds baseball boring. Very unamerican, I know. I married him anyway and our boys played baseball when they were young, because I almost had a stroke when he suggested we skip that sport. But nowadays? I don't follow MLB, and I've discovered, funny enough, that life is still full and rewarding - sometimes even downright chaotic. 

My sweet little babes. I do
enjoy them, but I am ready
 to embrace summer. Fingers
crossed that we find enough
 activities and academic workbooks
combined with enough pool days
 that summer will be amazing. 

Early on when discussing the event, Ed was like, Yeah, the other guys (some aren't from here) think a Cubbies game would be the perfect thing to do. I know you guys aren't into baseball.

So, when Ed called a few weeks ago to share the details, I was like Rooftop bar overlooking the game? Oh. OK. At least we don't have to buy a ticket to the game. 

Ed:  So it's $185.

Me:  $185 for all 3 of us (Ed, Coach, me) to go to this rooftop to watch a team I hate? Wow, that's steep (this part about it being steep was in my brain that apparently is still stuck in the 80s with Harold and Carlton).  

Ed:  No. It's $185/person, but it includes food and drink. 

Me:  (after almost falling over) Wait. What the hell? I couldn't eat or drink $185 worth of anything in one sitting if my life depended on it. Shit, this place won't likely have anything for me to eat or drink. 

*All inclusive 'deals' suck for a person with celiac, who considers a second glass of wine risky. I'm likely to slur my words, badmouth the home team, and forget everyone's names. Well, I might forget everyone's names anyway.

When he learned of the price, Coach told me to go ahead and go downtown. He doesn't really know those people that well. He'd be fine skipping it. 

What? *I won't bore you with our marital debate and the details of how it's sometimes hard to want to socialize when my spouse is forced by his job to be talkative, but comes home drained by the experience. Whereas, I'm HERE for the chatting. Damn it. 

We're going. We paid for two tickets to stand on top of a roof near a game we don't have any interest in. Ed and all of his friends and apparently all of his friends' parents are loaded. They cannot think of creative ways to spend money, so they are excited for this opportunity. 

I'll probably come home hungry, which is fine - because I have plenty of options available here. I just spend $500 at the grocery store today. 

If you're from Chicago: Cubs or Sox? Have you shed a sport-watching focus since marrying or adulting? How much do you love all-inclusive events? Would you pay the $185/person or would you have hoped the 1 hour at the apartment was sufficient social time and not bought a ticket? 

The flight home (last weekend), a new kind of tailgate, & speaking like a 2 yr old

(Hope my American friends enjoyed their Memorial Day. Posting a day later than normal)

Imagine being stuck in an airport waiting for a flight with a connection after watching your daughter take off on a direct flight. Add to that the fact that your own connecting flight was now delayed, taking off after midnight instead of landing at midnight. On top of that, consider the frustration of knowing  the airline employee at the counter screwed up. He found a seat for Curly, then claimed to add me to the stand by list. Had he properly added my name to the standby list, then I would've been given the next available seat because no one else was on standby at that time. 

When I spoke to the guy at the gate a bit later after walking through security, he said there was someone ahead of me. My name had not been added. They added me, but I was now 2nd in line. So Southwest ended up with one extra seat, which was given to someone who was not me. Someone who was added to the standby list in the time it took for me to walk from the ticket counter at the front of the airport and thru security (might have been the fastest security line I've ever encountered. Perhaps because I'd already eaten my sweet potato and my bag gave TSA no red flags).  

It was fine. Of course. I was glad my kid got on the direct flight, so she could get home at 8 pm (whereas I got home at 2 am and had to babysit in the morning). After the door was shut to the plane though, my mind played a few tricks on me. What if Curly was lucky to get the last seat, waved good-bye to me, and then her plane ended up going down? That was not likely to happen, and I told myself this. Then I thought, what if my plane goes down? I decided I was being irrational and silly. 

While I was waiting for the possible boarding pass that I so wanted, I realized that one of my travel companions was Suzy Sunshine. Don't get me wrong, Suzy was SO nice. Her daughter is on Curly's travel team. Like me, she and her husband and their daughter were unfortunate to be booked on the same non-direct flight with the growing delayed take-off.

I decorated our mailbox
and put a gift inside
 for our longtime
mailman who retired on
 Friday. So, I promise
I'm not all that bad.

Suzy sat next to me at the gate. Her college age daughter called from home. She'd found a baby bird that had fallen from its nest in their yard. There were calls on speaker phone, bird chirping sounds and a plethora of suggestions for how to save the bird. Sweet, right? Of course. I was not in the right frame of mind for the blow by blow of the developments in the yard, perhaps because the amount of energy and time devoted to this rescue mission was incredibly lengthy. 

I was struggling to keep smiling and nodding along to each turn of events. I wanted to move to another seat so I could concentrate on reading my book, something I thought would make me feel less like I was wasting my time, minus the chirping bird updates, but I didn't want to be rude. I was irritated in general and the bird's plight was sort of draining. 

I promise I'm not an evil person or an animal hater, but I felt a bit like Jim from the Office, when Dwight is doing something nonsensical and time consuming and disruptive, and Jim just states directly at the camera. Like, SAVE ME FROM THIS. 

the plight of the sweet potato:  I'm frugal whenever possible. This trip did not align with my core MUST BE FRUGAL values. In order to recover some of the I HATE WATCHING HARD EARNED MONEY BE FLUSHED DOWN THE TOILET feelings I had about the flight expense, I brought as much food with me as possible. I did well. Only buying myself one small salad all weekend. 

Curly ate with her friends a few times, but some of it was covered by the team expenses. I gave her money for the ice cream and other treats, but I mainly ate food I brought, or that which was supplied by the hotel. 

Before we left for her last game, I scarfed down what needed to be eaten from my hotel fridge, saving things like my protein bar that didn't require a microwave or a fridge to eat at the airport. I cooked the sweet potato, wrapped it in a paper towel, and stored it in an empty glad container in my bag. 

After the game, a handful of the kids on the team and their parents went to a restaurant to eat. I wanted to eat my sweet potato. Curly was feeling guilty about the cost of the trip. She had leftover pasta from the dinner out the night before. While everyone else ordered, Curly and I excused ourselves, went out to the rented car of the team dad who was good enough to chauffeur us around so I didn't have to rent a car (I intend to get him a gift card this week, as I was so grateful not to have to deal with the hassle of renting a car and finding my way around). 

At the car, I popped open the trunk. Curly stuffed her sweaty uniform back in her luggage, because she'd just changed and used facial wipes to freshen up in the restaurant bathroom. Then I dug out my sweet potato that I'd added a tab of butter to from the complimentary breakfast. I ate it as if it was a sandwich. Curly opted to eat her cold leftover pasta, even though I told her to go inside and get a burger. She claimed that she liked it better cold.

That, my friends, is a new kind of tailgate party.

In other news, yesterday was the one year marker for when the girls moved in with us. There is some crazy boy crazy stuff happening that we find very concerning/draining. It's an unhealthy type of obsession. We are unsure of how to reprogram them to know themselves and focus on self love and family love, but we hope our family therapist can help. To celebrate, we took them to lunch and made these 3 collages for their room that represent:  family, friends, and fun. 

On my connecting flight from St. Louis, I boarded the flight after hanging out at the gate once again with Suzy Sunshine and her family. The bird rescue was not discussed at this gate. Suzy was confident that the air traffic would clear up, we would board the flight at 10 pm and be home in a jif. Well, that didn't happen. We shared some laughs as slap happy folks stuck in a airport are apt to do. 

The flight attendant directed me to choose a seat beyond a set point. It wasn't a full flight. Spread out - were her directions. I chose a window seat toward the front of the plane, so I could deplane quickly. I was so surprised when a couple sat in my row a few minutes later. 

Wait? What happened to spread out? 

The woman had apparently bathed in perfume. 

Before we could take off, the flight attendant directed 6 passengers to move to the rear of the plane.  

She asked the 3 of us, "Are you together?"

I shook my head. As in, I'm not with this guy or his fragrant lady friend. Then she pointed at ME and 5 other people, leaving the couple next to me in their seats. 

"You six need to move to seats in the back of the plane."

That's when I morphed into a 2 year old. "But I was here first." 

Well, I got up and moved to the back of the plane, as I was told. When we landed, the flight attendant sat down in my row and explained why she asked me to move and I apologized for speaking like a 2 year old, filling her in on the details of my travel day. I was so dang happy that Tank was there to get me. 

If you are a Suzy Sunshine type, know that I am not always this grouchy. As a bonus, Tank and Mini found my comedic stream of consciousness about the weekend the next day while incredibly sleep deprived very entertaining. 

my parents' house, feeling validated, & a FB memory that brought up all the feels

 Moving on . . . (*this was the end of a prior lengthy post and I shaved off this extension . . . And by that I mean, switching gears to the topic I was gonna cover - but speaking of moving, I recently asked Coach, “Wanna just move to someplace far away from everything . . . Like Iowa?" Tell me where we can go where the foster girls can attend a school without a chrome book/internet access and kids who have crappy parents, and where people are decent and the pace of life is slow? I don't think it exists, but I thought I'd ask).

On Friday, (the day of my very long vent post when the girls were so dysregulated that we were all in a tailspin) I went to see my folks after the family therapy session Coach and I had with Rae. My mom has fallen a handful of times and Coach thinks she has a tear in her rotator cuff. According to him, all people her age have this kind of tear. He gave her exercises to do and I was going over to do them with her. 

Mostly this was because Marie texted in the group chat that Mom needed help doing them. Marie often comes to stay with my folks and work from their home Sun-Wed or Thurs. 

Coach:  Your dad can do the exercises with her. He has a brain.  

I shared what my PT husband said in the group chat, but Ann texted: He got lost going to the dentist last week. I read Ann's text to Coach. 

Coach:  Good thing the sheet of paper he needs is on the kitchen table. He doesn't need to go anywhere. Ernie - don't text that. 

Anyway, I sat and chatted with my folks on that Friday. They'd slept in and were just having breakfast at 10:30. They laughed at my stories. I told them about the drama at home and how I was questioning my life choices. Mom said You're doing this because you wanted to help someone. Dad said he'd like to come watch Curly play locally that weekend. Then I went thru the exercises with Mom. 

Me:  Just ditch the stretchy band, if it's too hard, Mom. 

See what I did there? I acted like I know a thing or two. It happens after you've been married to a PT for all these years. Besides, she's 82. She can do whatever the hell she wants. (when I told Coach of my permission to skip the band, he was not pleased - so perhaps  my PT knowledge isn't as proficient as I thought it was).

Dad happened to have an eye infection when I showed up, so I called his eye doctor. I assumed it was pink eye. Ed's childhood friend's mom 'Shari' works at the eye doc. We texted back and forth and she got him an appointment that afternoon. I told Dad I would come get him if I was able to get a nap in (remember I'd only slept 2.5 hours that night). I'd keep him posted. 

I slept about 20 minutes, and then decided I should take him to the eye doc. I really wanted to get some things done, like email an update to Kay's therapist and write my next chapter and work on the video. Shari thought he'd get his eyes dilated and I didn't want him driving home on a sunny day. At 84, anytime we can chauffeur him around the better. I called my folks. Mom answered. He'd already left. 

Who leaves 55 minutes early for an appointment that's 15 minutes away? How are we related?

Shari told me that he'd have to wait at least an hour to be seen as they were slammed. When Coach got home, he dropped me off at the eye doc, so I could at least drive Dad home.

A glance down one of the hallways of
their home. A photo wall
of their 22 grandkids.
 (Kay and Rae will be #23 and 24).

The look on Dad's face when I walked in. Priceless. He was like, I'm fine. I can get to the eye doctor by myself.

I drove his Buick Rendez Vous home. Yes, he's the one still driving one of those. I told him that I might have to come and hang out at their house more often. It's so quiet. It's clean. Uncluttered. It's soooo relaxing. I wish I could work from home at their house too. Can you imagine if I showed up with a half a dozen tots? I mean, I do stop by there with the troops sometimes, but we usually stay outside in the stroller/wagon and say HI NANA BANANA. We get a lot of mileage out of that one. 

This photo popped up on Facebook a few months ago, as a memory of a photo shared by Joe, my childhood friend and former neighbor who died suddenly a few days before Christmas in 2021. My heart ached, thank you FB. I barely remember reading Joe's words the first time he sent it and now it was crazy, because it was like he was speaking to me from the grave and I hung on every word.
That's  me in the red coat. Joe is standing behind me, also in red. My dad, arms crossed. Mom in the striped shirt with the pointy collar. My best buddy Johnny is the blond standing in the center of the photo. This was a few years before his accident. His mom is on the far right, who we visited in Florida.

Mini visited my folks a few days ago. She came home and told me that Marie was there, but at least she left the room so Mini could visit with her grandparents without Marie lurking. I used to be able to see Marie's car on the driveway, but when I visited several weeks ago her car wasn't on the driveway and I was so surprised that she was in the kitchen. 

Marie:  (after I told her I didn't see her car on the driveway) Oh, since they sold Mom's jaguar, there's room in the garage, so I just park there.

(I have some thoughts on the selling of the jaguar, another time)

I really prefer to visit my folks without my sister hanging around, so you will appreciate Dad's comment to Mini during her recent visit. 

Mini:  Oh, so Marie is here?

Dad:  Yeah. One of them (Marie or Ann) is always here. I'm old. They don't think I should be alone. (Mom is there too). Marie is fine, but Ann? She drives me NUTS!

Well, they both drive me nuts, but the fact that Ann drives Dad nuts made me feel SO VALIDATED.

Anyone else remember wearing plaid pants in the 70's? Anyone else feel validated lately? Or discover visiting someone that felt so relaxing? 

Is it a potato or is it a grenade? TSA wants to know, plus how our plans for Reg next year are now up in the air

I’m typing this in my Embassy Suites hotel room in Oklahoma City on Saturday night. I love Embassy Suites. I’ve been eating the GF oatmeal that I packed for my breakfast, and bringing my made-to-order omelet up to my room fridge and heating it up for lunch. I’m crafty that way. 

I’m happy to save some money somewhere, because these trips - HOLY EXPENSIVE ORDEAL BATMAN. This is NOT what I’m blogging about, damn it - but it’s on my mind. I’ll be brief. 

We fly to out of state tournaments (and drove to St. Louis) for Curly’s team, because our team is trying to get into the Addidas circuit. We have to prove ourselves, so we have to play in games and hope that they think we’ve earned our stripes. Like, literally, the level of play is named after the 3 stripes on the Addidas logo.

This is the place we played in Texas. I think. Everything is blurring together.

We flew to Texas several weeks ago. We played 4 games. Three of the games we won by over 30 points. One game was competitive. We were losing by 16 points, but we came back to win by almost 10. It was so crazy exciting. But - why fly all the way to Texas, pay for flights, food, and spend time away from home ONLY TO PLAY IN GAMES THAT ARE MOSTLY UNCOMPETITIVE. It’s silly. 

I spent way too much on our flights to Oklahoma City. I didn’t book flights when the team did. I think I was distracted -either walking into a court room or a neurologist office and by the time I booked flights, they’d more than doubled in price. I cannot even share with you how much this is costing, because I can’t stand to see it in writing. Curly has played in 3 games thus far. One game was close, but we won. Curly had a great game. I think she his 3 three’s. The other two games were beyond silly. We won one game 46-16. Why did we spend a small fortune to fly down here for that? 

This is the place we played in Oklahoma City. It was a glorified tent. There was one fan. The biggest fan that has ever been made. It wreaked havoc on my hair.

She plays in one more game tomorrow (Sunday), which should be a tough game. (Editing to add:  we lost by 4 points. Curly played great, scoring 3 more three pointers and at least it was a competition). Then we hang at the airport for 6 hours, board a flight to St. Louis. Then board a flight to Chicago, and land at midnight on Sunday night. (*so this flight situation scenario is NOT what ended up happening, I’ll be landing in Chicago after 1:30 am Monday and Curly landed at 8 pm, but that’s a whole other post. I will have spent about 3.5 hours in the St. Louis airport by the time things are said and done).

This is the $60 wristband I paid for to watch my kid play basketball. In a glorified tent that I suspected was on an Indian Reservation. Perhaps there was a passing of a peace pipe when her games wrapped up and everyone went home. 

Main topic:  Some of you probably already realized this, but it just became clear to us. Reg’s guidance counselor told him that some schools might not agree to defer his acceptance for more than 6 months. Well, that sucks. Also, she warned us that he might be considered a transfer student if he took classes at community college (CC).

Huh? But he has a medical issue and he just needs to stay home to figure it out, and what would they like him to do? Sit at home and twiddle his thumbs? 

The issue: We want him to go away to college in a year as a freshman. We don’t want him to miss out on that experience. 

I reached out to a few schools that Reg was strongly considering to ask about how to defer and would he be a transfer student if he took classes near home this coming school year. I was not pleased with their answers.

Also, Coach was like, Then we just don’t tell them that he took classes. Don’t show them his transcript. 

Yeah, so I found out - that’s not a thing. Or it’s frowned upon. There’s a national database and colleges can see if he has taken classes since high school. 

Plus, Reg wants to play basketball in college, so playing at a community college (or somewhere) is important in order to be recruited. CC requires that he take a minimum of 12 hours each semester. If he can only defer for 6 months, then more applications? I’m exhausted thinking about it. 

Options:  

1. Go to community college, play basketball, and start college as a sophomore transfer student. Hope that he gets a b-ball scholarship/offer somewhere so the application process is less daunting. The CC will cost about 2K, excluding books. 

2. He goes to a place in Crown Point, Indiana (an hour away from us, lives in an apt) that is only basketball focused. It isn’t affiliated with a school, but most boys take classes at a nearby juco. In this case, we could have him work with a tutor in order to test the verbal memory skills/assess how he’s going to be able to manage academics with his accommodations and memory issues. This checks the b-ball recruitment box as well as the attend college as a freshman box . . . To the tune of 22K (which includes an apartment). 

3. Have him choose one of the colleges he was seriously considering and just send him. Hope for the best. I have very little confidence that his verbal memory will improve with the ADD med they started him on, and they really don’t seem to have any other ‘fixes’ to try. This means he won’t get to try to play basketball in college.

4. He can also reapply for the Evans Scholarship whether he attends a juco or not. Just saying, if he got it that’d be sweet. (* a caddy from his golf course got the Evans this year, even though he didn’t caddy last summer. What now? His uncle was the former caddy master at the course. So someone pulled some strings? Caddying, as I’m sure you can imagine, is a fairly important detail in earning the scholarship). 

5. Stay home. Work. Meet with a tutor to assess his memory issues. Play b-ball on his own, but it would be tough to improve when or catch college coaches’ attention to be recruited, if he wasn’t playing in games. 

BTW:  I pack whatever food might be easy to heat up while away in order to save money or to dodge the team pizza nights, which are inevitable. I packed a sweet potato, the wrapped in plastic variety, microwave ready. If a potato is not chilled during the flight, no big deal. The TSA agents tore my bag apart. I had everything neatly folded and organized. When they were done, she mumbled to me:  DO YOU WANNA TRY TO PUT IT BACK THE WAY YOU HAD IT? I mean, YEAH, but also - not sure I can. My crap was so disheveled. 

While I was repacking my bag, Curly watched the TSA agent go through another lady’s bag. She pulled a full bottle of wine from the woman’s bag. She also discarded several big bottles of product from Bath and Body Works. Curly was so confused. How could someone have forgotten that much stuff? Maybe the woman had never flown before. It’s a mystery. 

Suggestions on Reg’s options for next year? Ever get stuck in TSA for something weirder than a sweet potato? Are you smart enough not to get your kids involved in travel sports? (Curly is hooked, because these are her best friends. I love these girls, too). I have some other earth shattering basketball news to share soon. Maybe after I get some sleep and deal with my back that is not pleased to be hanging in an airport for HOURS. 

Tank: modern day renaissance man (the interview story) & an unrelated 8 second video that kills me

I mentioned in a post a few weeks ago that Tank got an internship this summer in Chicago. (sharing an unrelated 8 sec video even though you can see faces, because it makes me die laughing every time I watch it. I'm not sure if Ed is being sarcastic or trying to score points, or what. I wish I had more context, but the looks on their faces - maybe they're in trouble and Ed is trying to brown nose his way out of it. Tank is behind Ed.)

Background:  Tank's a workhorse. He started his own landscaping business when he was 11. Well, it started with him offering to cut a neighbor's lawn. That's a hilarious story. He expanded, hiring his siblings. He required they attend training sessions, where they were instructed to do push-ups, etc. to prepare for the rigors of pushing a lawnmower. 

Eventually he started caddying, and mowed lawns, trimmed bushes, planted stuff, and laid down mulch in the evenings or on Mondays when the course was closed. At the same time, he started working at our friend's family owned business 'CD'. It's like a warehouse type setting. They make 'WARNING:  HOT' labels and such for parts of engines, etc. He worked there in the winter when the golf course was closed, or when it rained and he couldn't caddy. He'd literally just show up and they'd put him to work. 

During covid when school was over by noon, he'd head to CD to work a shift. I believe he made 10K that school year. One of the main guys said he'd only retire when Tank was ready to take over his position. Several lady workers, who don't speak much English, are not surprisingly big Tank fans. They regularly brought in  homemade burritos and enchiladas for him. 

Also while in high school, Tank started working a few days a week for a commercial gardener called Plant Tenders, gradually giving up his own landscaping gig. Plant Tenders removed bushes, planted beds, weeded, etc. in very affluent areas. On Mother's Day, it became clear that he learned SO much there when he helped me plant flowers. We used a few of his tools. He pulled out a hand-trowel that P.T. owners had given him with his name engraved on it when he graduated high school. I never knew that. So sweet. 

Tank, Kay, and Rae planting.

Basically the kid rarely took a day off.  Last summer a woman at CD told him that he should reach out to her daughter at AON for an internship. He was unsure that AON would have a position that might interest him. I said, You never know. He applied over Christmas break. 

In the meantime, he reached out to a random company in Chicago with ties to a Creighton alum. He had zoom/phone call interviews for an internship. Each time he called me to say that he thought it went well. Each time he made it to the next round. Then the place insisted he interview in Chicago on a Tu, Wed, or Thurs. in March. He'd have to pay for his flight and miss classes. I told him to suggest that he fly home a day early for Easter to interview on that Thursday. No, the position might be  filled by then. 

Me:  if they're interested, they'll hold the position. I vote you roll the dice. (he was now in the early stages of interviewing with AON and he needed to stall the random place anyway).

He took my advice. The random place agreed to the later interview, which was great. I suggested getting his foot in the door at AON was better (even though it might not be a sales job) than getting a sales internship at this random place. 

Meanwhile, he moved through the interviews at AON. Each one, better than the last. He was nervous about the final interview. (He once told his buddy that he wished he could sit next to some business guy on a plane, unaware that he was a business guy, because if he just got to talking, he'd end up impressing the guy and landing himself a job). 

Me:  Take your time answering and just be yourself - go into airplane mode. Who could resist you? Tell them how hard you work, that you're a go-getter. Tell your story. 

He called after the interview and said it went REALLY well. "The guy called me a modern day renaissance man." He got the AON job. 

The interview:  The daughter of the lady he knows kept in touch with him while he was going through the interview process. She told him the final interview would follow one of two forms. Then she gave him the questions, and the first question on form A was:  IF YOU OWNED YOUR OWN LANDSCAPTING BUSINESS, (wait, seriously?) WHAT WOULD BE SOME OF YOUR RISKS? 

Guess which list of questions he got? Yep. The made-for-him landscaping variety. I believe there was more than one person on the call, but he and the main guy connected. 

    If you had to rank the Star Wars movies, how would you rank them?  Interview guy (IG) had the same feelings as Tank about which movies were perfection and which lacked.

    Perfect vacation? Tank said he's skip the beach. He'd rather see a grizzly take down an elk from 50 feet away in Yellowstone. IG was about to head off on a trip with his buddies to a national park. Maybe Glacier? 

He starts June 3rd. In the meantime, he's caddying. He's decided to become proficient in his wooden flute and tin whistle playing even though he hasn't had a lesson in years. He's in the basement right now, playing traditional Irish music. When Reg texted me:  What should I say about my plans for next year when they announce me at senior night for volleyball? -I turned to Tank . . . 

Tank:  Say, I'm excited to share that I've been accepted to Harvard where I'll be studying physical education. 

We got a little silly and thought about a few other options. My preference: I've recently come into some money and I'm gonna take the year off to invest it, maybe play the ponies. 

Tank:  I'm going to be an intern for our AD, since he does such a great job. 

Reg chose to say: Plan to study business somewhere, haven't decided on a college.

We can't all be jokesters. 

The one where Rae's card blew me away (shortest post ever b/c speechless)

Rae slipped a handmade card across my computer desk early Sunday morning. Coach was leaving with the two girls for religious education class. He teaches Rae's 7th grade class. Sunday was the last class for the school year. The kids usually give me Mother's Day cards after a dinner that Coach grills, but Rae didn't know that. I considered saving it until later, but then I thought, Well, maybe she wrote something she didn't want me to read in front of the clan.

This is what she wrote:  

Dear Ernie, (Rae has told me that she can never call me mom, because it brings back bad memories. Suggestions on other mom-esque titles? Pls share in comments. Kay hasn't called me mom yet, but she's told me that she refers to me as mom to her friends. Baby steps).

Happy Mother's Day. I want you to know you really are starting to feel like a mom to me. I know we don't agree on a lot of stuff, but to be honest that's just because I'm stubborn and I'm getting used to everything still. Anyways. Thank you for all the hard work you do around the house and to keep everyone safe. You mean a lot to all of us and to be honest we wouldn't be able to do a lot of stuff without you. Thank you for going out of your way to let me have friends over. Thanks for never giving up especially when stuff/life is stressful but most of all Thank you for bringing me and my annoying little sister into your house, picking us up off our feet and showing us what a real mom is like. You and your whole family mean a lot to me. I don't know where I would be without you. So once again HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY.  ~ Rae

*********

Well, I had to run upstairs and remove my contact lenses and give them a good rinse. I'd JUST put a new lens in a few hours before and I didn't want it all junked up with salty tears. 

Needless to say, I was moved and touched. Wow.

There are days when I question what on earth we were thinking. And then I get a  note like this and I'm reminded of what we are doing.

Photos of our day: Curly had a b-ball tournie, I snuck off to our new pool (open for adults b/c no guards and I got to finish reading Tom Lake while flanked by Curly and Mini), Tank went to Home Depot and bought some flowers per my request then he helped Rae and Kay and I plant them. He used to work for a commercial landscaper and he knows his way around dirt and such, Mini's home and so is her stuff, and that's me:  my folks took a very blurry photo of us on Easter, so I set up the camera for an autotimer. Lad snapped this of me getting the pic set up. 

 

Sweet 16 Soirees that aren't so sweet & the icing on the cake

Coach has been working
 to empty the
 closet that 'broke' days
 before Christmas. 

I've been drafting a blog post for umpteen hours, as if I don't have 2 varsity teams showing up to a pasta party at my very cluttered, slightly filthy home tomorrow evening after I've spent the day sitting for 6 kids. The pasta is prepared and in the fridge, but I forgot to pick up the cake at Costco this evening. Of course. 

I've hopped from one topic to another. Post was too long, so I chopped it up. And now I'm not even sure what to share. I wanted to talk about Alzheimer's and how I miss my mom, since it's almost Mother's Day, but I haven't even gotten to that. So, please enjoy this chopped up hodge podge post. Welcome to my mind, I hope you enjoy the ride.

 

A trend related to Curly that is making me bonkers:  

        Sweet Sixteen Extravaganzas. 

If these have not yet hit your area, or will not impact your life, thank your lucky stars. If they are threatening to encroach on your future, consider moving to the middle of nowhere. Right now. 

This is where Coach is stacking stuff.
This is the first room you see when you
 enter our home.
HI PASTA EATING KIDS, MOVE
 ALONG. NOTHING TO SEE HERE.
I really don't
 care, but come grad party day, I'm
 gonna want this space to be tidy.

Curly has been invited to countless Sweet Sixteen Soirees. Each time, they seem to get fancier and more over-the-top, or at the very least at a more distant location. She's been to 2 or 3 in downtown Chicago. How do people have money to burn? The attire is similar to Homecoming. Curly has mentioned a few times that she might need more dresses. 

Need more dresses? I will refrain from showing you a photo of her closet, but there will be NO MORE DAMN DRESSES. 

A few weeks ago, I had to drive her to a Sweet 16. The birthday girl lives around the corner from us, and Curly could've gotten a ride WITH THEM but they were getting to the place early, so Curly was all No Thanks. I was unaware that I'd be in the car for almost an hour for the round trip drop off or I would've insisted that she accept the ride. Um, what just happened to my Saturday night? Thankfully she got a ride home. Additionally she got an earful about my time vs her time and being considerate, etc. 

That one was the last straw. Sorry Rae and Kay. Curly, here's hoping you don't have any more friends turning 16. Because:  No.more.sweet.16.parties. Do I sound old and awful? Moving forward, my offspring will only attend friends' parties if they are within a 10 minute drive of our home, preferably at the kid's house. 

What happened to:  Welcome to our basement. Here's a few pizzas. Hope you like the streamers and the cake and the funny baby photos I printed out of the b-day kid. Please don't keep the music up too loud after we go to bed. Let us know if you run out of drinks down there, because I'm so cool, I have a fridge in my dining room full of additional cold beverages (not overly cold, because the fridge isn't fully functioning). 

Coach found
 this gem when he peeked
 into one of the albums.
He snapped it thru the
 album, but if you look closely you
 can see the butt crack of the girl
 who currently attends sweet 16 parties.

The icing on the cake . . . 

Last Friday a few hours after I attended a family therapy session with Coach and Rae, I got a text from a woman who hired me for next school year. She has 2 kids. Needed Mon-Thurs (hard to find, because of course lots of people need all 5 days, and no thanks. I intend to keep my Fridays off). 

In her text she informed me that my reference was glowing (I assume so, because she HIRED me), but that she and her husband decided that they wanted Little Johnny to attend preschool and they just couldn't make the schedule work, so they were going to go in a different direction. They'll probably take him to a facility. 

Wait. A FACILITY? WHEN HE COULD BE IN MY HOME? With a caring environment and friends and feel family-ish love and go on great outings? 

What the actual? She hired me like 6 weeks ago. As in, I've been holding those TWO spots for you and that's not right. What if someone wanted to hire me and I turned them away? How about me thinking most of my spots were full, so I relaxed on my search for new families? Here's an idea:  what if you decide what you're doing BEFORE you hire someone? What if just because I'm a babysitter, you act like you care about how your inconsiderate actions impact my life? 

I was pretty spent, having slept 2.5 hours. Having dealt with some upsetting foster kid behavior, so hello icing . . . where's my damn cake? 

I have not responded to her. I have things to say, but of course I can't afford to let the word get out that I'm a raving lunatic who happens to watch babies and children. Still, I think she should know that what she did was thoughtless and that I'm a person. Thoughts? 

I can of course simply say:  Sorry to hear that. I'm confident that your kids would've loved it here, as the kids in my care do love it here. Please feel free to share my contact with anyone else you know who is looking for childcare. (I can type the whole thing with my middle finger. Maybe that'll make me feel better). I do get that everything happens for a reason, and it will all work out. I prefer not to be underutilized thought. I'd like to make this count, so I don't have to do it forever. 

I don't follow a preschool 'curriculum'. Instead:  we share, read books, sing songs, have friends, go on adventures, dance, act silly, and laugh. These toddlers have the rest of their lives to be in school. Sometimes people get so caught up on what they might be missing, they lose sight of what they might be gaining. My house doesn't feel like daycare. It feels like home. Isn't that beneficial? This gang is comfortable here and they're little experts at the game Memory. 

It's a choppy post and I still have to share Tank's hilarious interview story. Thanks for the reminder, MBmom11. I've added it to my list of things to write about. 

Enjoy your weekend. If you're in the area, swing by for a plate of pasta. I'm sure we'll have loads to spare. Hope you feel celebrated for the mom, aunt, or thoughtful trusted friend that you are. If you are missing your mom this weekend, I hope your memories are warm and your heart is full. 

Reset: the stars aligned, and a fun, memory-making adventure

It's Sunday night and I just got home. It was a whirlwind. The 2 little girls and I drove to St. Louis Saturday. We left around 12:45 after they each had some time with their closest friend respectively. Curly drove down in the morning with a teammate, so she was sure to arrive in plenty of time to play. This meant I could have a bit more time at home. 

I slept fine Friday night, but only sleeping 2.5 hours Thursday night caught up with me on the drive down. I could NOT keep my eyes open. I had a Coke with me, but I avoided drinking it in order to skip having to stop to pee. 

Instead, I reached for these Talking Point cards that my SIL, Aunt Leprechaun, gave our family at Christmas. We hadn't used them yet. The girls had been reading in the backseat. 

Fun fact:  they do really well on long car rides. Note to self:  next time they tick you off, book a hotel somewhere, throw them in the backseat, and start driving. Kidding. Sort of. 

I asked them if they wanted to read through some of these questions. They were all about it. We laughed and joked around and shared things with each other. Biggest pet peeve. My answer:  sniffling. Rae had the sniffles and I told her to toss a box of Kleenex in the car and she forgot, so we all laughed at that one. My laugh might have been through gritted teeth. 

Other questions included things like what we'd do if we had 3 wishes. Both girls said one wish would be spent on making both of their feet the same size. Having club feet really sucks for them. Questions popped up about whether or not you'd prefer to spend a week in the past or in the future. What wild animal you'd keep if you could train one to live with you. You get the idea. 

One thing that I sort of anticipated, but never came up:  no talk of wanting to go back in time to make my parents/mom behave differently/make better choices. 

Overall, it was a really good trip. Short and sweet. The family therapist had suggested more connection. Trying to get the girls up to speed to how we do things leads to lots of correcting. 

Exhibit A:  Rae wore pants that she found in her gym locker a few weeks ago, because 'hers now.' Um, no. Those need to go to the lost and found. I swear the correcting is constant and we do connect with them by way of family games, or they'll sit in the study and watch video clips with me as I prep Reg's video, or we'll chat in the stands at a sporting event. But it is hard to always connect. Plus I've been out of town at b-ball a lot lately. 

We surprised Curly and hung this on the door of
her room. Rae made it on the drive down. Note
 the top right corner:  BY:  YOUR BIGGEST FAN.
Cute, right? 

Then this happened at check-in:  

Hotel (AC Marriott, fancier than I anticipated and the girls were amazed at the fancy touches in the bathroom, etc.):  Oh, looks like you booked 2 queen beds. 

Me:  Yep.

Hotel:  Oops. We oversold those. I can put you in a room with a pullout. 

Me:  No. That won't work. I didn't pack a sleeping bag and there's no way the two girls can share a pullout. 

Hotel:  OK, we'll just give you two king rooms then, and we'll pay for one of them.

Score! The rooms didn't adjoin, but they were right next to each other. I 'bout lost my mind trying to keep the room keys separate in their little envelopes. Two rooms was ideal, because I'd stressed about all 4 of us in one room. Curly hangs out with teammates till 1 am sometimes. Plus, one bathroom? I considered leaving the girls home because of the fact that the room wasn't an Embassy Suites type set up. Rae took the king & Kay took the pullout in one room. Curly and I shared the king in the other room. 

I have b-ball stories to go into another time, but Curly played great. We only had 6 girls, (thus the story for another time) so she was exhausted after the 4 games in 2 days. 

Before we drove to St. Louis (Chesterfield to be exact), I found out that the hotel didn't have a pool. What on earth? Or a microwave in the room, but one was in the lobby which was fine. Or a free breakfast, so I packed breakfast food.

Sunday before Curly's games, we had some free time. The zoo was the wrong direction and we had limited time after we went to church. Plus we had to check out by noon. Only staying one night threw me off. In Texas for b-ball we were there 3 nights. I'd instructed the girls to bring bathing suits in case we bumped into friends at another hotel and managed an invite to their pool.

There was no bumping, so we drove to an area with abundant hotel options. I told them to just act casual. Nothing to see here sort of thing. We were gonna borrow pool time from another hotel, or die trying.  

At the first hotel, we turned the corner and the pool was empty. Foiled. 

Rae thought we were done, and she was not sure about the whole idea and what have I done corrupting foster children? I told her, If at first you don't succeed . . . 

The next hotel was like a ghost town, which wasn't good because we needed foot traffic to open the pool door. It was like a conference center, so the pool was a mile away from everything, down a long hall. There were no people. A locked door. 

I told the girls to wait there. I walked down the hall and was gonna ask a guest for the loan of their key, but then I realized that this woman worked in the hotel as she was entering the Staff Only room. Eek. 

Me:  Never mind.

Staff:  No, what do you need? It's fine.

Me:  My husband when to the store and took our room key and my kids were hoping to go for a swim. 

Staff:  No problem.

Woot! Woot!

B-I-N-G-O!

There were no towels in the pool area and I wasn't about to go ask at the front desk. Magically a worker appeared to deliver towels to the empty towel shelves. There were even goggles in the lost and found that they borrowed. The girls swam for a half hour before we raced back to our hotel to gather our things, change clothes, and drive to Curly's game. It was an adventure. 

We arrived home safe and sound at 9 pm Sunday night. 30 minutes earlier than  Google Maps predicted. Hi, Google Maps, have we met?  Um, fortunately there were no speeding tickets for the queen of speeding tickets. All in all, the stars aligned this weekend.  

The girls' social worker is coming this afternoon to follow up on my tearful call last week. We've had a nice break from regular life and the nitty gritty of rules and expectations. I hope her conversation hits home with them a little. 

As in:  rules are necessary, fun happens, too. Balance. Remember to be respectful. 

Thanks for the words of encouragement after Friday's panic post. Truly so appreciated. I had a little pick me up each time I saw another comment. I feel blessed to have all of you in my internet world. 

This week:  I'm hosting a pasta party for both the girls' varsity soccer team and the varsity boys' volleyball team Thursday night. And two amazing college kids who are very willing to support our adoption goal, reinforce our rules, but also joke around and set a good example COME HOME ON FRIDAY. I'm counting the hours, can you tell? XO 

When things implode with the girls: an emergency vent session

Things at home with the two girls got really sticky last night. To put it mildly. I'm sort of at a loss and I thought until we get to our family therapy appointment in a few hours, I don't know who to call. I thought I'd share with you. I'm not expecting anyone here to solve our issue. But a good old fashioned vent session might help.  

The girls had a choir concert last night. Reg had volleyball and Curly had travel b-ball practice about 25 minutes from home after her soccer practice. Coach works late, but was juggling patients so he could help with the driving/be at part of the choir concert. 

Kay and Rae got their haircut on Wed evening. They both spoke to the woman who lives like 10 houses away, hello convenience. They explained what they wanted, and the lady gave her own suggestions. The haircuts are so cute. She convinced both girls to do very subtle layers. And Kay to have her hair thinned out. She gave me some suggestions for the best product for them. 

When she blew Rae's hair dry, it looked amazing. It was parted down the middle, but when left down it was light and fluffy. The woman told Rae it was a very attractive look, much softer than when she pulled it back. That was a good word for it:  softer. 

Kay has a lot of body in her hair and the woman gave her some ideas about how to work with it in the mornings so she could wear it down and it wouldn't poof out.

Yesterday morning, I helped Kay wet and scrunch her hair per the hairdresser's suggestions. Rae reverted to severely yanking her hair down to put it in her usual low pony tail. Before the haircuts, Rae admitted she REALLY needed a haircut. "Look how long it is! I think I'll get it cut to here." She demonstrated by rolling her hair up and under. We googled photos and she seemed excited. She showed the woman what she was thinking and the woman said, "Good, I was thinking the same thing."

After school I was scrambling to make a really good meal. I felt like I'd phoned it in all week. I told the girls to get started on homework, because they needed to be at the school for the choir thing around 6:30. Kay does homework in the dining room, off the beaten path. She popped into the kitchen a few times. "I don't know how to do my math." I suggested she work on something else first. "Who's coming to watch us?" "I think I'll do my hair like this for the show." I still had one 18 month old hanging out in the family room waiting to be picked up and I was glued to the stovetop. #spreadthin

I'd been on hold with the doc for a long time in the afternoon because Reg's new meds give him headaches. Embracing this new 'normal' - try a med, how long do we have to try a med before we know, and calling him out of school late afternoon so he could come home and nap and grab his epilepsy pills because his volleyball tournament was expected to end around 8:30 pm. Plus, I had an appointment with the neurologist that we had to move. 

Meanwhile, Coach and I were texting to map out the driving, because we'd both forgotten about Curly's b-ball practice. If I drove her with the girls in the car (and there was no one for them to stay home with), then they'd be a little late for the performers' arrival window. Have I mentioned that I can 't wait till college kids are home to pitch in with the driving? One more week. 

Basically I was distracted. I needed to finish the dinner so I could be ready to run to school and get Curly from soccer practice. I told Kay, "Just do your homework. We can figure that out later."

She mouthed off to me as she walked into the dining room. I called her back. Rae was in the family room doing her homework and she hollered at me, "Just ignore her, she said like one thing. Leave her alone."

I told her to stay out of it and Kay walked in from the dining room and told me, "She has by back. Leave her alone." 

I told both of them they were this close to missing the choir event. I told Rae to stay out of it. I will not have someone be disrespectful to me. Nope. Answering back is an ongoing issue with Kay. I asked her what she was supposed to be doing. "Homework." Then do your homework and we will talk about how to do your hair for the show later. 

I texted Coach. I was hot. He said, Ask them to apologize before you serve them the nice meal you made, or they can eat PB&J. *I wasn't going to serve them a different meal, but I did ask before dinner:  "Before we sit down to eat, is there anyone that thinks they owe me an apology?"

I missed a varsity soccer game for Curly the night before because the hairdresser rescheduled to a time during her game. She never plays, because she didn't play last year? Because she misses some games on weekends for travel ball? I like to joke that I'm gonna call up the AD. That's post lawsuit humor and I get lots of mileage out of it. It's fine, but there's another girl who starts on varsity soccer and also misses for b-ball on the weekends. She played last year, but isn't this a new year? 

Anyway, the game was far away, and I contemplated going after haircuts but decided I'd miss most of the game. Of course, Curly played the entire game and shut down their best player with her this-is-what-I-do-in-b-ball-I-defend defense. It went to overtime and then to shootouts. It was crazy long and Curly got a scratch/bruise just below her right buttocks that was really ugly. I would've seen so much of the game if I'd have gone because it was maybe the longest game in the history of everything. 

I asked Rae if she'd consider wearing her hair down for the choir thing. "It's so pretty, even the hairdresser said that and it isn't a full school day so a good time to give it a try, and it would look a tad fancier for your show."

Rae:  It's outside my comfort zone. 

Me:  I know, that's why I'm thinking do it for this 1 little show. I know the choir director would love it.

She asked me to help her and I did. We took it out of the pony and we wet it to get the dent from the ponytail out of it. I blew it dry a little. Curly told her how nice it looked. 

I dropped them off early for the show and then drove Curly. Coach texted to say he was home and we could go together. Then I called my mom to see if she wanted to go watch the choir thing (this was admittedly incredibly last minute but she doesn't like to go many places lately), and she didn't. My dad got on the phone to ask Coach about Mom's shoulder exercises. So, we were a minute late to the show. 

Coach snuck out towards the end to get Curly. I stayed. We videoed the girls. Afterwards, Rae plowed right past me in the hallway where I was standing along the wall with the other parents. She was with her friend, also named Rae. I called to her and she kept going, waving me off. I asked her where Kay was. "I don't know." She went into the gym with R. 

Then Kay came along, "Can we go to Culvers?" I said no. She pestered, and I said Not tonight. Then we went toward the gym and I waved Rae over. I made like I was heading to the door and she was like, BUT I WANT TO ASK YOU SOMETHING. She wanted to go to Starbucks with R's parents. They'd invited her. Nope. 

*There was a choir thing a few months ago that I attended - always on Tu/Thurs when Coach works late. The girls begged to go with R's parents to Culvers and I let them AFTER we'd eaten refreshments in the hallway and it was a school night and it was a disaster. I was not sleeping at the time and I ended up having to drive up to Culvers to grab them because R's mom is very permissive and thinks everything her kid does is cute and we were not on the same page as far as bedtime. Never mind homework - we'd been at the choir thing for like 2 hours. Enough already.

The girls were ticked. I told them the show was great as we walked to the car. Asked what songs they liked the best, etc. When we got home, Kay started to do her math homework. More attitude. Rae tried to tell me something was a cube, but it wasn't. Rae was getting very territorial with Kay's homework - this is a new thing. Rae can't stand Kay and usually tells her she's annoying vs being helpful.

I looked at Ray and told her VERY calmly even though my brain was screaming, I'm not sure why the attitude. I wasn't the reason you weren't in math today (she missed it because of choir rehearsal and kids in her academic situation should probably never do that). I couldn't help you earlier. I'm offering to help you now.

After awhile, when she continued to be difficult and angry that I was helping her, I sent her to bed. The crazy thing is - she was willing to go to Culvers and wouldn't have had time to do homework, but the fact that she wasn't getting to do it because I decided we were wasting time while she was being pissy - then she was mad it wasn't going to be done? What now?

When Coach got home from driving Curly, we called Rae into the study and I told her that it was hurtful that she didn't come and talk to be after the show. "I came to watch you." 

Rae:  R's parents came to watch me. (these parents are nice people but they don't get it and when I text her back something, like a reason why Rae can't hang out - she tells her R things that I wouldn't normally tell a child, or she'll jump thru hoops at the girls' orders, like:  Text Ernie this and tell her we can do this. Nice people, but really clueless and I'm bout to have a conversation with her). 

Recently Rae told me that R's family is like family to her. Um, what? Did they drive 45 minutes on their anniversary to get your tooth pulled? Did they go to 6 different stores to buy shoes that fit you and buy you a second pair just because you wanted them (club feet aren't easy to shoe shop for)? Did they buy you a period bathing suit so you can still swim? Did they take you to a dress rehearsal of a show for a cousin who's show you were gonna miss when we were on vacation even though it was the night before vacation? 

She didn't like it when I said, No. They aren't like family. If you think that, then you don't know what family is. 

Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say, but holy shit. Who drives you to therapy? Who tells you that the girl that called you fat is not to be trusted and doesn't deserve your friendship? OK, I'll stop there. You get the point.

I broke down and cried when she acted like she didn't care that I came to the show and she didn't care that she plowed past me. Then it got ugly. Coach sent her to bed and both girls sat up in their room crying and talking smack about us. 

Coach and I went in there and said, We have expectations and rules and that's how we operate, but when we have fun - we have fun. We enjoyed your show and we were sad that the evening ended the way it did and we love you both.

Later Curly came down and said they were still up there ranting. I listened outside the door and Rae was saying that we hurt their egos, that we took her confidence and that they need to stick up for themselves. What's this?

I went in and asked for clarification. Rae:  I HATE MY HAIRCUT. I HATE IT. 

I pointed out that she told the hairdresser what she wanted. The hairdresser had shown her how to deal with her cowlick near her part and suggested she move one piece over but I had nothing to do with that and she can flip it right back the way she wants. What on earth? Coach's mouth just hung open. "We told you your hair looks so pretty. So did the lady. I don't understand?"

Off to family therapy. Fortunately we had this scheduled with myself and Rae. We are supposed to address her lack of self awareness and immature behavior when she is with friends. She wanted to go to the conference track meet next week and I said probably not. She didn't qualify but could go to hang out and cheer. I've seen her at these events and she turns into a 4 year old. 

We were going to take both girls today, but I feel like Rae's issues are so different than Kay's that I think I'm just gonna take Rae. I'm making Coach cancel patients to attend this session (he does sessions sometimes but this one wasn't supposed to include him). In almost 27 years of marriage, I don't think he has ever cancelled patients. 

Please say a prayer for us, and if you don't pray positive thoughts are welcome. Like I always say, these kids don't come with a handbook. We are far from perfect, but we are TRYING so hard.

*Oh, and my SIBO has been a bit more 'active' lately and less dormant. Guess who slept all of 2.5 hours last night.