a Wed. post, because I need to vent & ask you What To Do?

My guess is there isn't anything I can or should do with this situation. It's par for the course. Do I need to just throw my hands up and keep my mouth shut? Keeping quiet - not easy for me. Plus, if I'm throwing my hands up, my middle finger might fully extend. 

Setting the scene:  My dad asked Mini to go to lunch with he and 'O' on Monday. 'O' is my brother Pat and Aunt Leprechaun's daughter. O and Mini are the same age.

Way back:  I babysat for O for a few years when her mom was doing her residency, and they lived down the street from our first house. Mini had just turned a year and O was 8 months when she started getting dropped off 5 days a week. The two of them were like sisters.

Aunt Leprechaun and I were tight. We walked together through our neighborhood regularly. When the girls were about to start school, my folks handed Pat listing sheets for houses in nearby Fancy-Pants town. I was confused. Leprechaun and I had always talked as if our daughters would attend the Catholic school that my older boys attended - right across the street from our neighborhood. I asked Leprechaun if they were moving. Nope, the listing sheets were my folks' idea. My parents' thought Pat's kids should attend the same high-falutin, snobby Catholic school in the town of Ye With Fanciness in Ye Pants. 

I discovered Pat and Leprechaun were moving when I saw a for sale sign in their yard. Talk about a smack-a-roo right in the face. I was the last to know. Ouch.  

Sidebar:  I always wanted to live in the town my brother was moving to. Every few years, I would drag Coach, kicking and screaming, to open houses for itty-bitty, teeny-tiny homes over there. I was drinking my parents' Kool-Aid.  

Sidebar to the sidebar:  Back when I was in grade school, I never fit in at the hoity-toity Catholic school that I was now gravitating towards. I was scoffed at for wearing clothes sans alligators (aka Izod). I had very few friends. My folks convinced us that this was THE school. This was THE town. Ann's kids went to that school. My brother, Mike, intended to send his younger kids to that school (and eventually he bought a teardown enormous home and sent his kids to THE school). Meanwhile, Coach and I were living in a regular town and our kids were attending a regular Catholic School, with only a few uppity types. 

Coach on attending open houses:  Ernie, this house is twice as much but half the size of the house we currently live in. A house that we are busting at the seams in AND we are having another baby soon. 

His non-hormonal, no Kool-Aid brain prevailed. We stayed where we were. But when we were about to put an addition on that first house, I hopped online to look again at what houses were for sale in 'Prestige' Springs. I found one. It was the right size. Could we? Maybe? It was still about 100K above what we could afford, plus it needed a ton of updating. It sold before I could convince Coach. 

Imagine my surprise when I pulled up to Pat and Leprechaun's new house . . . it was THAT house. (scene from a movie, right?) The one in need of lots of work and still out of our price range. Pat and Leprechaun complained that they'd hoped for a move-in ready home, but his bonuses weren't what they once were. They'd be slumming it in the house I drooled over. The one I couldn't afford. They gutted it. Of course. 

Back to the present day scene:  I asked Mini how the lunch was. 

Mini:  His agenda was clear. He wants O and I to be better friends. He wants us to spend more time together. 

This is a nice idea, but the girls are old enough to choose who they spend time with. They get caught up at family parties, etc. O is an introvert, Mini not so much. Mini admitted that she could spend more time with O. "I used to love going to their house for fiddle lessons. I like O. We just do different things, have different interests." One of the cousins needs to work, if you catch my drift. O didn't get into ND, which was shocking. I wonder if my dad thinks they'd be closer if O attended ND. 

*BTW - that school that they moved to be closer to? The snotty girls in O's grade texted her in 6th or 7th grade:  WE WANT TO BE FRIENDLY WITH YOU, BUT NOT FRIENDS. O was without friends. Aunt Leprechaun started inviting Mini over whenever she had free time. We worked to get the girls together whenever we could.

(background, in case you weren't reading 2 years ago:  When Lad was in 8th grade, my dad told him that he'd never get into ND, but that all of Pat's kids would because they were so smart. Rough stuff, right? Then O didn't get in. My dad stopped donating to the university, so he can't help get me score extra football tickets. Whatev'. It's fine, but the mindset - not so much). 

Look at how amazing our deck looks after
Coach power washed it in time for the
 party. Since this pic,
someone seems to have cut
the lights with a scissors. Was it
an animal? So weird.

Then Mini explained that when Dad drove her home, he told her that Ann, Marie, and Pat are pressuring my folks to sell their house (that's less than a mile walk from my home) and move into a very nice retirement place. My grandparents lived years ago. Apartment style, with dinner provided in a dining room. Uncle Mike lived there when he moved here from Texas and he had a wonderful experience, making many friends in the short time he was there. 

Mini suggested to Dad that they ask the woman who currently comes 2x a week to help them to come more often.

Dad:  I can't really afford that. I just found out that my leukemia pill is no longer covered by insurance. It's gonna cost me $7k a month to keep taking it. I'll probably just stop taking it. I really miss my brother. 

Mini teared up telling me this. There is a lot to unpack here. 

Not sure why it has taken me so long to recognize that Dad has no filter. He says whatever he wants and doesn't consider his audience. I'd like to point this out to him, but he's 84. While he's been like this FOREVER, I don't think he's gonna change or give two shits if I point out how his approach is often: 

NON-EF-ING-SENSICAL. 

I'm upset that, as per the usual, I'm not part of the moving-mom-and-dad-to-a-retirement-home conversation. My vote, if I had one, would be to keep them in that house for as long as possible. Mom has Alzheimer's and I think it helps that she knows her surroundings. I fear that moving her now will cause her to lose ground quickly. I'm sure one can argue that if she moves while she still has some memory, maybe she'll adjust better.

Enjoy this unrelated video of a cicada clinging to 

Coach's butt crack while he power washed 

the deck before the party. (not sure this video clip

 is gonna work, my YouTube isn't showing it yet. Weird)

I would LOVE to ask my dad if he ever thought to have a similar conversation with my sisters, as in:  Why don't the two of you spend more time with Ernie?

I think it's nuts that he's gonna hold cousins to a different standard than his own children. I'm not interested in spending time with Drizella and Anastasia. They deserve each other. But - does it bother him that they exclude me? They never recognized Reg being cut from the team, never asked how he was managing. They didn't go out of their way to welcome the two girls we are adopting either. Never once called to see how it was going. They stopped talking to me after the hilarious true story I wrote was published. (on top of everything, they're humorless)

I don't have an answer to the medication situation, but really - that's something you share with a grandchild before you share it with your own daughter? 

Thoughts? Suggestions? Say nothing? Ask my dad why I haven't been consulted on the possibility of them moving? Gently remind him that Mini and O are old enough to choose friends? Ask if that same sentiment was ever considered for his own offspring? Ask if he is really gonna stop taking his chemo pill?

But it's 3:01, party in the rearview - let summer BEGIN, and updates

The grad party went off without a hitch. Except a few small manageable moments:  

1. I noticed as I was lining up my 4 crockpots that I inadvertently set the sweet and sour green bean casserole to warm vs high. The 3 crockpots of Italian Beef were supposed to be on warm. The green beans were apparently still edible and hot (not GF, so I asked Coach. My GF version was a tiny portion I prepped in the oven in the morning, so Ann and I could reheat portions in the microwave). The green beans had been on warm for hours, and all ingredients were already cooked. It's a dish I converted to a crockpot version years ago (as I believe all things should be cooked in a crockpot - how did my mother survive without one?) in order to free up oven space and I've never looked back. 

2. Someone rang the bell at 2:50. 10 minutes before the party. I was still in my dry fit dress, not my cute party dress. I guessed it was my in laws. They drive from about 45 minute away and my FIL has never arrived without complaining about the drive, as if our choosing to live in the western suburbs of Chicago was an affront to him. I asked him once if he complains about the drive every time he goes to KC to see Coach's sister. What even? 

Alas, it was not them. It was my sister, Ann. When she walked in, the rest of us froze. We were sweeping, hanging grad party decorations, wiping up spilled lemonade (because the nozzle was in the open position on the dispenser and we didn't notice it initially), and dragging bins to the basement. 

Ann:  Was it 2:00 or 3:00? (maybe consult the invite next time rather than show up and ask for clarification. Not a huge deal). 

Us:  3:00!!!

A few minutes later, Ann said she would run over to our folks house around the corner and maybe she'd offer to drive them over.

Us:  Sounds good. 

3. Coach:  It's 3:01 and my parents are here. 

I raced upstairs to change into my party dress and put on my mascara and grab the tablecloth for the dining room that was in the dryer. Note to self:  send them a separate invite for future events and edit the time to 30 minutes later than the official start time. 

I'd revised the video that morning. I know, I know. Being a perfectionist is a choice, but I don't choose it for everything. An assistant coach at the high school emailed me the two half court shots Reg made his sophomore year season AFTER I finished the video. I wanted to add them and to correct a few other mistakes (photos flashing on the screen for a split second, etc.) I'm so glad I took the time for last minute edits. I even made a copy of the DVD for my MIL because FIL leaves parties really early and she never gets to enjoy herself. 

Since it was warning-you-might-melt kind of weather, there were loads of people inside who saw the video that was played multiple times. Ed's girlfriend and her mom were in hysterics watching it. 

(I'm sharing a highlight of the video here. I might use real names, ah- not a huge deal. These are real faces, but I don't think you'd be able to pick them out of a lineup based on their present day looks. The first minute of the video is hilarious, watch till the end for a glimpse of Curly as a 10 month old, who's recently been fed candy and more up close footage of a very funny Reg.)

The food was good, although we will apparently be eating baked mostaccioli until the end of time. The sun stopped beating down in the early evening and people declared it wasn't really that bad out. There was a breeze. Coach and I sat out on the deck with some friends and relaxed later in the evening. We were thrilled that our friends stayed long enough to converse with us. Reg had a group of guys sleep over and they behaved themselves. My house is clean. Other than some sticky floors. Almost makes me wish we hosted more often. Oh, and the little girls were very helpful and I managed not to swear like a sailor in the race to get the last minute jobs done. 

Mini puked just before she went to bed and I must add to my list of things to do to have her tested for celiac, because she's had a few weird gut incidents lately. Rut Ro. *she did not overdo the eating or drinking - made no sense. 

Other news:  Lad still sells cars for our family friend, who's sweet daughter Violet died of a DPMG brain tumor in Feb. '22. Lad called me on the 19th to let me know that his boss and his wife delivered a healthy 9 lb baby boy that morning. How wonderful! Their other daughter is maybe 3 or 4 now. So very happy that they have been blessed with the joy of a new baby. 

Since Lad doesn't call anymore, I asked him during that call if he planned to come to Reg's party. He asked what time, then:  Is it too soon to bring my girlfriend? 

Me:  Well, that's for you to decide, isn't it? How long have you been dating?

Lad:  Almost 2 months.

Then at the party, he told my aunt that I wasn't really excited for him to bring his girlfriend. I corrected him. "You asked if it was too soon. I said it was up to you. That doesn't mean I wasn't excited." I swear that he mis-translates every word that leaves my mouth. This is always the way. 

The girlfriend came to the party later and . . . she was delightful. I welcomed her and I was hosting, so I didn't chat with her much. She sat at a table with Lad, Ed, Ed's girlfriend, Tank, and Mini. Coach and I were on the deck at another table, visiting with our friends. It probably would've been weird if I plopped down at the table of young'uns and tried to join their conversation. So, I didn't. 

Mini, Ed, and Tank gave her big thumbs up. Are we afraid that she'll ditch him once she figures out that he doesn't have it together? Yes, yes we are. But I'm praying that she motivates Lad to get his act together.  Fingers crossed. 

*he'll be 26 tomorrow, the 26th. Apparently at that big kid table conversation, he mentioned how the girl's dad and he have so much in common. They share a b-day. The girl's dad is the funniest guy she's ever met. Mini:  Oh, well there's one difference.

Have I mentioned thick skin is mandatory to be a shenanigan. 

Also, a mom who I sat for for 5 years, texted me today to say her 5 year old who is going to kindergarten in the fall told her:  Mom, I miss Ernie. 

Oh, my heart. 

Experience any last minute party mishaps lately? Or any memorable ones? Are you a crockpot lover? Have you known a young man who got his shit together after meeting a girl? Anyone want to pop over for a plate of mostaccioli? If so, come hungry. I forgot to talk about cicadas. Did anyone else have them this summer? More later. 

lack of commenting explained, another closet photo, and more peasant tales

I'd like to apologize for not commenting regularly on your blogs lately. I know you know I'm overwhelmed at the moment prepping the house and making all of the food (except the Portillo's salad) for the grad party, creating the 'Reg' video, dealing with the collapsed closet study shelving, reorganizing the basement storage room, and attending two evening swim meets (some 40 minutes away) a week with the little girls. 

On top of that, sometimes after I read a blog, I write out a lengthy comment (who me, lengthy?) and my damn 5 or 6 year old phone (who's counting) says NOPE. Redoing a comment from my desktop is the goal, but I don't always remember which blogs I have to circle back to. Did the thing I wrote show up? When I take the kids to the pool, it's hard to see my screen. Ack. It's annoying and I hope this improves and I can keep better track of what comments need to be redone. 

*****

the study closet, aka where
all the pictures reside

I finished the study closet yesterday. The 'before' and 'after' pics I shared last time were from the basement storage room. Two places that desperately needed attention and were not fully functioning. Now our biggest problem is what to do with all of the additional recycling that won't fit in our allotted oversized bin. This proves how much I've purged- therefore I feel it's a good problem to have. 

The weather for the party on Saturday looks ridiculously hot. 94 degrees. Downright oppressive. Unusual for June. Should I rent an inflatable with some sort of water component - like a giant water slide? 

                                                                        *******

Please enjoy a few additional 'peasant' type tales that I thought of since my last post: 

Can I interest you in an order of homemade cookies? I found an old notebook in the debris of the study closet. What's this? Oh, yeah. A record of  sales from when I baked goods back in 2011. 'Ernie's Dough' was my side hustle a few years before I started my daycare. My customers were mostly my friends. Mini cringed when I showed her the 'ledger.'

Me:  I know. I know!

Mini:  Do you think people ordered from you because they felt bad? 

Me:  Well, not exactly. I know they liked my food, but they probably ended up ordering out of pity. 

Shudder.

Also found these in the rubble of the
 closet explosion. My business cards
 from a short lived business. 

"Here's some gas money" After Thanksgiving, Mini failed to secure a ride back to campus. There are loads of kids from ND in our area, but she didn't think about getting a ride till most people were already back at school. I called a childhood friend of mine whose son attends ND. His son 'Normal Son', who's a year older than Mini and who she'd never met, was getting a ride with two neighbor brothers, both of whom attend Notre Dame. These brothers keep a car on campus. 

I drove Mini over to Normal Son's house that night. The brothers with the car were returning from a Mexico vacation. Their flight was delayed. We sat and chatted with my friend and his family while we waited. On the drive over, Mini had admitted that she hoped the mysterious two brothers were not 'The Smith Brothers', who are notorious for being spoiled. Supposedly, their parents have a rule, if you don't get into Notre Dame, you don't get a graduation party. 

What? How's that for twisted? 

While we chatted with my friend, I asked:  Who are the two brothers?

Friend's wife:  Oh, the Smith brothers. 

Mini kept her forced smile affixed to her face, not batting an eye. 

Later she texted me from the Smith brothers' car. The brothers had weird taste in music. Since they'd been delayed at the airport, they stopped and bought like 2 twenty packs of chicken nuggets from McDonald's to eat on the ride. Her texts were cracking me up. One of the Smiths farted something awful. It was definitely from the front seat and they didn't even bother to crack a window. She was sharing the backseat with Normal Son. 

At campus, they arrived at Normal Son's dorm first. Then they pulled up to Mini's dorm. She thanked them for the ride, and offered them a $20 bill for gas.

The brother that is her age, said:  Oh, not necessary. But thanks. You keep . . .

The older Smith brother turned around and took her $20 bucks. "Yeah, thanks." 

She texted me after she got to her room. "There's no way the Smith's needed my money. I don't think they would've ever taken my money in front of their equally wealthy neighbor, Normal Son. Damn. I was hoping to get to keep that 20 for myself." 

*****

What can I say? She comes from frugal stock. Any carpool rides that were especially uncomfortable? Ever start a side hustle that didn't lead to  much hustling?

Enjoy your weekend. Hope you don't melt. 

nothing makes me feel more like a peasant . . .

BEFORE

Progress is being made over here in Clutter-ville. Sunday afternoon before the pool, I finished up organizing the basement storage room. 

AFTER

The Container Store quoted us over $800 to put 4 or 5 shelves in the study closet. Coach thought I'd lost my mind, because I was like LET'S DO THIS. I wasn't really thinking - I was feeling the pinch of crisis-mode. 

It has been almost 6 months since the Great Shelving Collapse. I've developed an eye twitch and I credit the albums and shoe boxes full of photos littering the house. 

Guess who drove to Home Depot not once, but twice, bought everything needed, and showed Coach a YouTube video on installing wire shelving? Yep, that would be me. People, there are shelves in the study closet. It is a small miracle. 

SHELVES!

Late Saturday afternoon, I started to add things to the shelves. Then Coach and I needed to drive 22 minutes away to pick up new-to-us patio furniture that I found on Offerup. Then we had a graduation party to attend. 

I loved our patio set, but the fabric on the chairs has not held up in the Chicago weather. We practically had to ask people to BYOC:  bring your own chair, to the grad party. I found a set on Offerup that was originally priced at $1,500. Then reduced to $300. I offered $275, because I figured they just wanted to be rid of it. 

Sold to the low bidder at $275. 

I drove the mini van and Coach drove the GW. I tried to take a photo of how rusty GW is when I was at a light, but it didn't turn out great. We took both cars just in case everything didn't fit in GW.

GW was a few cars back but this
 photo doesn't show the large chunks
 of missing paint. She's a real beaut.

We arrived at the address and there we were in front of a moderate-sized mansion. The owner, who was approximately 2 decades younger than me, invited us to follow her around back. She had a couple of very young children running around inside the house. We walked passed her Tesla parked in the garage. Her yard was gorgeous. There was some sort of nature preserve right next to her property. The nature path ran alongside their very private, very well-maintained yard full of beautiful flowering plants and loads of mature trees.

The woman showed us how a few of the screws had broken off and maybe we could fix it, if we are handy. Well, the screw is IN the hole and I'm unsure we can remove it in order to put a new screw in. The seat of the chair is not properly attached to the frame in that location on two of the items because of the broken screw. 

Coach and I shrugged, deciding to still take the furniture. 

    1. Our family is fairly fit and I don't think we have to worry about the chair collapsing. 

    2. You get what you get for $275. 

    3. If there is a way to figure out how to remove a broken off screw, then we will go that route. 

I snapped a photo of the yard to show the kids, so they'd understand the context of what happened next -but apparently my phone misfired and I have on photo. Feel free to use your imagination.

 As we were hauling each piece to the front yard, someone walked passed on the nature trail. It was a woman, who stood, and sort of crouched down to look down into the yard, between the trees. 

Nature path lady:  YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL YARD!

Me:  NOT MY YARD, BUT THANKS. (in my mind:  if you saw my yard, you would not be offering me any compliments)

Pretty similar to
our original set.

At a stoplight, I texted the kids:  Nothing makes me feel more like a peasant than showing up to someone's mansion in a rusty van with over 200K miles on it to collect patio furniture castoffs from someone who drives a Tesla and is decades younger than me.

It's fine. I love a good deal. I don't know if I would ever feel comfortable paying full price for something. Second-hand purchases are fun adventures. My folks roared laughing at my re-enactment of me intercepting the backyard compliment moments before I pulled away in my severe-paint-chipped 12-seater van with someone else's slightly broken patio furniture. I hope it gave you a chuckle too. 

If you have ideas about removing broken screws, please advise. The whole fam-damily watched the grad video tonight. There was much laughter at the not-seen-in-forever clips, high praise, and a big hug from Reg. 

Fortunately, despite flat tires, vomit, and beautiful home envy

FORTUNATELY, the video worked. 

Mission accomplished. 

See? Clear as mud. But it says at the bottom,
your files have been saved as an ISO.
Good. I meant to do that. Huh? 

I wrapped up editing Sunday night. There are a few different options to get it on a DVD and I never remember what works. I took a photo of the screen, so I would remember what I tried. The first time the DVD was blank, but I remained calm. Then I realized that it saved the file to my hard drive. I found it, burned it to a DVD, and this time it played. It felt magical. M-A-G-I-C-A-L.

It’s tradition to gather to watch the video as a family before the grad party. With two brothers moved out that is proving challenging. Reg is chomping at the bit for the unveiling. It dawned on me today that we can watch it on Father's Day. That day snuck up on me. I think we will all be gathered. Unsure about Lad.

We've hit rocky waters with him, again. I've drafted the tale, but haven't shared it yet. Coach said it best. It's like dealing with an alcoholic. He won't get help until he decides he needs it. Fortunately, Lad is NOT an alcoholic. He refuses to take meds for ADHD and his impulsivity and anxiety impact his relationships and that complicates life. *sigh* Oh, in case you are wondering. I'm back to buying my eggs at the grocery store. If Lad is ingesting all the eggs his chickens lay, then I fear for his cholesterol. 

KC:  A few things happened back at home. Tank texted a photo of the kid’s car with a flat tire. Fortunately there were several other cars in our fleet available. The kids were on their way to caddy in a tournament (same destination so they were all in 1 car), so they did a U-turn and swapped cars. By the time we got home, the tire wasn’t just a little low, it was flatter than flat.

Fortunately the neighbor on the corner walked his dogs by our driveway. His daughter is friends with Reg. Remember the egg carton days? When Reg used to beg for empty egg cartons so he could give them to the neighbor girl? She used them to store golf balls she found on the golf course. 

Meet Mr. Egg Carton. He texted his daughter, "Let Reg know that I have a portable compressor that he can borrow." Look at how those empty egg cartons paid off. 

Reg and I filled the tire with air and he drove it to the tire place. It would’ve been nice if they would’ve been able to patch the tire, but they couldn’t. At least, that’s what they said and who are we to argue? 

We woke up at 5 am Sunday. Coach was driving me 45 min to the airport before his class so I could catch my flight home. Tank had texted another photo at 2:15 am. It was a photo of Reg’s bed and the carpet next to his bed. Both:  covered with vomit. 

This was rough, because I couldn't talk to anyone. The message had arrived 3 hours prior and the kids were asleep. Tank shared in the vomit text that Reg overate at a grad party. I wondered if that was code for Reg over indulged in beer at a grad party. Hmm.

Reg (and Ed - because they are clones of one another) used to puke after eating too much. Like regularly. That phase ramped up at around age 10. I thought he'd outgrown that. He hasn't outgrown eating to the point of ridiculousness, but he hasn't puked from it in YEARS. 

Reg swears that he only had 2 beers. He isn't supposed to drink while on his epilepsy meds, but he can drink a bit. Over Christmas break we allowed him to drink a beer in the basement with his brothers and Coach. He was fine. Since then, he occasionally has a couple of beers. We preferred he 'practice' while at home where he was being monitored vs testing out drinking at college. I really hoped that the puke was because he overdid it with the eating, but I'm not sure I buy it. Maybe it was a combo of eating too much AND drinking two beers. 

Pic I sent of a smiling to
me in the group chat.
"The video works. Who do
you think you are, I am!" 

Vomiting can be a warning sign that a seizure is imminent, but he'd know that he was feeling a particular kind of lousy. I couldn't talk to him though to inquire. 

While we drove to the airport, I fretted a bit. What if he forgot his meds? What if he isn't feeling well and he ends up having a seizure? What if he seized after he puked, and Tank was back to sleep? I decided that Tank would've called if anything else had happened. Fortunately, I'm good, most of the time, at talking myself out of going bananas. 

The KC visit was very nice. I used to be annoyed when I spent time with this SIL, because she used to be snooty. Being in her house two weeks before I host a party? That was challenging. 

I started tackling a storage
 room in the basement today
 in hopes that it'll free up space
 to put college stuff or
other junk. If you don't
hear from me in the
next few days, send help.
 I might be impaled by
some holiday decor. 

My SIL is a wonderful host. Her house is perfection. All high end finishes. Full of sweet touches. Nothing out of place. Magazine-spread ready. She preps food and creates wonderful meals (am I only capable of making a casserole? I'm doubting my prowess in the kitchen). By the time we left, I was twitchy from the need to get to my house and tackle my ba-zillion chores. 

But if my house doesn't look perfect - my video efforts were not wasted. Everything else will fall into place. Reg's video is a hilarious and sweet celebration of who he is. It 's gonna be a highlight of his party. A thing to remember. I can't wait to show it to him. 

*tonight we re-watched Ed's video with the little girls. We intended to watch them in order, but Ed and Tank's no longer worked and once I got Reg's done - I found the spot where the other ISO files were saved AND I made extra copies. Hooray! 

Mini:  How lucky are we that we have these videos?

I'm feeling so appreciated. Messy, but appreciated. How 'bout you? Feeling fortunate about anything in particular? Have a relative who once rubbed you the wrong way, and things eventually improved? 

all he had to do was pivot and pour pasta in a pot, "Lower the bread knife," my inner voice (thank goodness)

I worked on my grad video project feverishly all day Thursday, because Coach wanted me to go to KC with him on Friday. iTunes messed with me - downloading the music I wanted to use in my video, but instantly hiding it in my desktop. I spent HOURS searching for it. I really wish this was an exaggeration. 

I was pressed for time to get the girls to their swim meet. I made dinner I couldn’t eat. It'd be leftovers for the for caddies who were staying home to caddy in a big tournament. I sent Reg to Costco with a short list of staples. How could my pantry be empty after I spent $500 a mere eight days ago? Then I literally shoveled a leftover GF dinner in my pie hole while corralling the girls in the car for the swim meet 40 minutes from home.  

40! 

                                                                        (this is a clip of Aunt Leprechaun

 and my brother, 

                                                                                Pat, playing music at the celebration of life

                                                             that I flew home for today)

I had to work as a timer for the ENTIRE meet. I wore comfortable shoes, but still. My back is a mess right now. Sitting (at the computer for hours and hours till the wee hours of the night) and standing are two activities making my back angry. Enter a long KC car ride to the equation, and well, it’s not easy being me. 

After the meet, I arrived home hungry. It was almost 9:30 pm. I've learned that if I’m hungry at night, my body is telling me something. Eating is necessary, or I won’t sleep. I decided to make GF chickpea pasta that I had in the pantry. I never eat pasta and last time I bought it, I had to throw it away because it expired. 

I put a pot of water on the stove, set the small bag of pasta next to the stove top, and moved to the other side of the island. 

The day before, I'd taken a break from my video and told the girls I’d do whatever they wanted, within reason, for 2 hours. We baked 3 loaves of chocolate chip banana bread and 3 loaves of pumpkin bread, because they had different requests and I was being accommodating. I even let them listen to Taylor Swift on the Alexa. 

While waiting for my water to boil after the meet, I sliced the bread we'd baked. You would fall over if you saw what little was left of 6 loaves just 15 hours later. The older kids were huddled around the island chatting. The swimmers were in bed. Coach was making me a salad for the road trip, because I’d moaned when I got home from the meet, “I have packed nothing. I don’t have any salads ready to go.”

This was nice of him. Yep, it sure was. I eat miniature Cobb salads every day for lunch. I prep them 3 or 4 at a time, because I like a stash. Days that require a fresh batch of salad making are not my favorite. Raise your hand if you think I'm ready for a personal chef. 

The water was boiling. 

Me:  Coach, can you put the pasta in the pot?

Coach: (huff and puff combined with a look) I’m making you a salad. 

I had a few things to say, not the least of which was:  I’M SLICING BREAD THAT I CAN’T EAT TO BRING ON A ROAD TRIP THAT I DON’T WANT TO GO ON. He was standing in front of the stove. All he had to do was pivot, rip open the bag, and dump it in. Instead, Tank did the pasta adding while his eyebrows stretched UP TO HIS HAIRLINE in disbelief. 

The older kids were like, WAIT. WHAT’S HAPPENING?

I put the bread knife down (wise move, under the circumstances, right?), told the kids to dump the pasta in the sink. I wouldn’t be eating it. 

Remember when the study closet
 shelves collapsed? Well,
Coach has emptied
 the closet. This table
and other stacks
 of photo albums and
boxes of photos are
 everywhere. Here's
hoping he can figure
 out new shelves in the
 closet before the party. 

Me:  Good night. Oh, Coach. Have a nice weekend. Do what you want with the girls. Leave them here if you need to, but I won’t be going with you to KC. 

And I went to bed - at 9:40 pm. (After I changed the laundry - nothing makes a statement like going to bed early to prove a point but first handling important household tasks). 

Coach apologized. People make mistakes, but the older kids have been grumbling lately that Dad works hard to keep his cool around the newbies, but is snappy and unpleasant to them. I'd like to say I hadn't noticed, but . . . 

All that to say, This isn't over. *sigh* Life is hectic and our situation is unique and exhausting, but we must stay focused on each other - not just the girls. 

I DID go to KC. Coach's sister is a wonderful host, a great cook, and her house is impeccable and beautiful. Being there made me almost physically twitch and shake, because I'm hosting a grad party in two weeks and my house is in shambles. Quite literally. I could do nothing to address that
circumstance while sitting in someone else's magazine-like home in KC. 

But - tonight (Sunday) I completed the video and hope that it'll burn to a DVD tomorrow. Fingers crossed. 

Does anyone have suggestions for sturdy shelving for the study closet? 

I did it to myself and KC kicking and screaming

 I didn’t post anything on Thursday, because I was Hell bent on getting the video project completed before Friday. Well, that didn’t happen - but I came really close. I made this project an unending task and I know that it wasn’t necessary. I did it to myself by:  

1. Taking HOURS of video and photos of my offspring over the years, and 

2. Tackling this project from a REVIEW AND GATHER all the best footage mindset, leaving no rock unturned. 

By overturning rocks, I’m referring to all the places to look for pics and video clips. There’s the photos that I once took with film in a camera. Then a digital SLR camera - those are on the hard drive. Eventually I took pics and video snippets with my phone, so now I have to comb thru those on google pictures. Lots to sift thru because for 9 years I’ve been taking countless pics and videos of toddlers and babies. Add to that my camcorder footage. Remember the JOY when I feared all the old little tapes were lost, but the lady at the photo place managed to get them to burn to flash drives? Well, now I have hours of footage to review on those flash drives (I’d only glanced at those briefly when making Mini’s video and used a few short clips), and all the digital video movies stored on my hard drive from my digital camcorder. 

When going thru one of the clips of the kids playing in the culdesac, another mom can be heard asking me, “Ernie, what do you do with all your videos?” 

Well, here we are. I do this:  I make a movie for a grad party and I go the extra mile for the 5th kid who had a rotten year, who was bullied by a-hole kids that he could easily pound into the ground but managed to refrain, who was diagnosed with a verbal memory issue at the end of his senior year of high school. Add to that, Mini sometimes refers to him as the forgotten child. I will NOT have one of my children think they are forgotten. Damn it. Plus, I’ve used the same hilarious clips in most of the older kids’ grad videos and I was invested in uncovering film that none of us were familiar with because it was on a flash drive that we hadn’t watched yet. 

Well, watch I did. Let me tell you:  gold mine. Reg was a climber. To put it mildly. Evidence of his climbing is everywhere in my video creation (that may or may not be just under an hour - depending on whether or not you choose to sit back and laugh while losing all sense of time). 

I’m in the car as I type this, speeding towards KC. Coach is teaching a class there. His sister lives there. She has a pool in her backyard. She is a wonderful host. His company would pay for him to fly to KC and stay in a hotel, but he thought it would be nice for the girls to hang at his sisters’s house and spend time with her and any adult kids who show up. 

I didn’t want to go. I would’ve preferred to stay home and finish the video and DO SOMETHING WITH OUR MESSY, DISORGANIZED HOME before the grad party. And possibly enjoy a quiet weekend. His sis texted him to say that if he brought the girls, she would entertain them. Well. AMAZING. But, also - are we reading too much into that? Did she really mean, yeah - I’ll spend some time with them and with whomever you bring with you to be in charge of them? I had a wonderful idea. What if Mini went with him? She could bond with the girls on the long car ride. One of her close college friends lives in KC. They could meet up and hang out. All good, right? 

The golf course’s member/member outing is this weekend and Mini stands to make a bundle caddying. I finally caved, knowing driving in a car with the girls for 7 hours allows decent bonding time. I knew they would enjoy Aunt’s house and her people. *sigh* So here I am.

On the day I agreed to go I realized my mom’s best friend’s husband, who passed away in January while they were wintering in Florida, was being remembered in a service/luncheon on Sunday at noon near home. Ugh. My dad told me I couldn’t miss it. Now, I’m a big girl and I know that I can do whatever, but I wanted to be there. So, I’m flying home early Sunday morning. Like EARLY. I have no one to pick me up at the airport, because my kids are caddying. This adventure is getting pricey. Coach will finish his class at noon and will drive home with the girls. 

I kept saying I would not leave the house if the video wasn’t successfully burned to a DVD, because my desktop has fought with me on this in the past. It got to be too late to cancel the plans. His sister was expecting us and I’ve just decided it will burn to a DVD when I finish it, hopefully on Sunday. Positive thoughts.

Then Coach stepped in it with me last night. Big time. A mere 11 hours before we were supposed to hit the road. Understand, my husband is a good man. Truly. But, he is a man, and why do men sometimes act like morons?  

Enjoy your weekend. Have you ever tackled a project that you made bigger than you needed to? If Mini gets stiffed by her golfer (aka loop) this weekend, I might lose my mind.

Will Ego be Curly's next coach? More b-ball news

Curly’s varsity basketball high school coach, 'Mirco' met with the girls Wednesday (this is a few weeks ago now, as I drafted this and then other stuff happened and this went on the back burner - life, it's the way it goes, am I right?). 

Micro had news that had been circulating. It wasn't a total shock. 

*Choosing the nickname Micro because he's a very small man and because he micromanages his players at nauseam. Mini and Curly always said they could tune him out, but his constant speaking:  Loose ball, dribble, shoot, bang bang, rebound. I get that coaches call things out, but it was like they were robots and they couldn't make a move without him. Coach and I enjoyed watching opponents' parents' faces. They were always SO confused, bewildered even. How could a man say so many words, such constant babble? 

So, the news:  Micro accepted the job as the new varsity BOYS' coach- taking the spot vacated by Idiot, since Idiot was fired. Just when I was relieved to be done with the turbulent boy b-ball program at the hands of an AD who doesn't know how to hire a coach. Curly is upset. Micro's motto was ‘family'. After the girls came together and had an amazing season and took 4th in state, this feels so wrong. 

Micro begged us not to send Curly to a Catholic high school when she was in 8th grade. She started talking to him about b-ball when she was in 6th grade, and he was coaching Mini. 

Hopefully the fact that the girls finished 4th in state will attract decent coaching candidates, but shockingly the AD still holds his AD position. How is this possible? I’m at a loss. As the AD, he'll be hiring the new coach. I texted both of my brothers and asked them to apply. No takers. 

When we drove home from St. Louis, Curly told me that she wishes her travel b-ball friends lived closer. They are spread out. One lives in the south loop, like in the city.

“I never tire of them. They’re more like sisters to me than friends. We’re really close.” 

2 of the 3 girls attend the Catholic high school that we considered sending Curly to when she was in 8th grade. I told her I would transfer her somewhere if we could figure it out (eligibility rules make transferring tough for athletes, yet people do it. It’s a mystery to me, because when we suggested that in the fall at the start of Reg's issue, we were told they wouldn't allow him to play elsewhere). 

Are you surprised that there is more uncertainty and stress afoot in terms of b-ball at the high school?

More current updates:  I've been glued to the computer all day (thus pulling a draft out to post) making Reg's video. We have some amazing tidbits that we've uncovered. I can barely see straight and I hope to get it done this week. Coach wants me to go to KC with him on Friday. Long story.

Reg and I visited the b-ball program in Indiana on Thursday. We were pleased. After talking it over, he and Coach and I - think that since playing basketball in college is his dream, that this program will give him the best chance of doing that. Juco had a b-ball program, but this is ALL basketball. He reached out to the guy who runs it this afternoon and accepted the open spot. Fingers crossed that this is the right path. (we still need to figure out if he wants to take some community college classes, or if he just wants to work with a tutor to test his retention, etc.)

Anyone else finalize a big decision recently? Work tirelessly on a project? Have a great week. The girls made the swim team and we have 2 meets this week, thus my race to get my video D.O.N.E.