The Finale of NaBloPoMo: WHAT movie are you watching? Pie, & Expired

Here we are . . . the last day of November. The last post of NaBloPoMo. 

I've got a few things I haven't shared yet. One of my favorite recent stories happened in mid October. Coach was out of town. Friday night I put on a movie for the girls. I texted Coach an update. 

Me:  We're watching Old School. I love this movie. 

Unrelated:  I made two pumpkin chiffon
 pies for Thanksgiving and we transported
them in a cooler without issue. Reg bought
 GF ginger snaps for me at the store to use
 as the crust. I didn't expect him to
 get GF, but dang- I got to eat
the pie. So tasty. 

Coach:  Ernie, what? That's not a movie for kids. Turn it off. 

Me:  Huh? It's so funny. It's fine. 

Coach continued to beg me to turn it off. All of a sudden it dawned on me. I'd gotten the name of the movie mixed up. We were watching School of Rock, which is appropriate, but I'd mistakenly referred to it as Old School, which is a movie with drinking and frat parties, etc. I died laughing. DIED. I texted my mess up in the family chat, because the kids know how worked up Coach gets about inappropriate movies. He was in a hotel room losing his mind, but fortunately we figured out the misunderstanding in about 5 minutes. 

A few hours later, I was about to go to bed. When I got a text from Lad. 

*Mini and Ed had made plans to visit Tank at school. As the date approached, Mini started to feel guilty, realizing that Lad would be upset when he found out about their weekend. I texted Tank. Tank decided to text Lad, saying I know you work weekends, so wasn't sure you could come. You're welcome to join us, but I cannot tolerate your impulsivity. The bottom line is that Lad has ADD, but refused to take medication. He has difficulty owning his behavior and he does things without thinking sometimes. 

So, minutes before I went to bed Lad texted me, asking if I had his passport. 

Me:  Nope. I don't. 

Lad:  I know you have it. 

We went back and forth. I was like, Why? Don't you have your drivers license? 

Lad:  Yes, I do. 

Me:  Then why do you need your passport? 

Lad:  My license expired on my birthday. (this was October and his birthday was in June. JUNE). 

The bouncer wouldn't let him in the 'good' bar. I eventually went to bed, but I was worried that Lad would ruin the sibling visit. My stomach was in knots.

The next day, I found out that Ed dug out his old European ID from his semester abroad and  Lad (who is clearly closer to 26 than he is to 21) was able to use it to get in. 

What were the chances? Lad, Ed, and Tank are all 21 and over. Mini is 20, but had a believable fake ID. Lad was the oldest of the three of them, and he was the one struggling to get into the bar. *eyeroll*

The four of them enjoyed the weekend (phew), and all was fine. Lad still needs to find his passport, but that's not my problem. I need to start paying attention to the names of movies so that I don't give Coach another heart attack. 

Have you messed up the name of something recently, causing confusion? Ever 'forget' to renew your license? 

I know some of you asked me questions on my AMA form. I'll answer those soon. Thanks so very much for reading my posts this month. I really appreciate your comments. It's been great meeting new bloggers and I'm grateful for those of you who are frequent flyers here. Since I missed the last day or two of NBPM last year, I'm excited to 1. complete the month, and 2. be enjoying a much less stressful November as last year. I think I was able to participate last year, because I wasn't sleeping. 

A Beautiful Noise

The Neil Diamond show . . . 

amazing. The lead singer sounded exactly like Neil. Ann said he won American Idol in 2015, but don't quote me. Most people understand that I know next to nothing about music or bands, but I know Neil, John Denver, Barry Manilow, and Elvis . . . the records my mom played nonstop when I was a kid. 

Fun fact:  when I was in 8th grade we had to do a project for English class. Pick a song and analyze the lyrics. Most kids chose songs from Tears for Fears, Thompson Twins, or Duran Duran. I selected 'Shilo' by Neil Diamond. Yep. We owned no records from teen heart throb groups. Shilo was a song about Neil having an imaginary friend.

The theater was beautiful. 

Pat, my brother, decided to take Mom to the show as her Christmas gift. Remember, she doesn't like to leave the house much/she has Alzheimer's. Surprisingly she agreed to go. Pat reached out to all of us and asked if we wanted to join them. Initially the ticket prices sounded prohibitive. Stupidly expensive. But THEN, he bypassed Ticketmaster and bought them from the theater while he was in the city for work. And they were like $150/each for the main floor. So much more reasonable. 

I think it was nice of him to invite the rest of us to share this night with Mom. Some people are really good at dreaming up gift ideas. I'm not usually one of them. 

Of course, Ann grumbled in the group text:  What? I asked Mom to go to xyz last year and she refused. How'd you convince her to go?  (You can't hear her tone, but trust me - it's implied and it's draining). 

I knew nothing about the performance, just showed up. The story of Neil's life was told from the perspective of a session he has with his therapist, which I thought worked well. All 6 of us went (my dad did not). Mom enjoyed it. During intermission, we had someone take a photo of the 6 of us in front of a Beautiful Noise Backdrop and it is a really cute picture. 

I can't believe/can believe it's almost the end of NaBloPoMo. I feel like I ran out of days in the month to squeeze in all the things I'd planned to cover. I blame the phone switching fiasco for sucking up so much 'air time'. Not to fear, I'll share the other things and the questions you asked in my AMA form in my upcoming Mon/Thurs regular posts. If you're new here, I hope you'll stick around. 

Are you a Neil Diamond fan? Are you one to come up with thoughtful gifts? Do you have a favorite gift that you've received? 

Happy Thanksgiving: 3 things I'm grateful for with a twist of silliness

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends. Happy regular Thursday (a day the rest of the world can use to prep for the upcoming holidays) to everyone else. Whether or not you are celebrating, I hope you have a lovely day with time to relax. 

There are only 3 days left of NaBloPoMo, and I still have a list of topics/updates I planned to draft. Let's see how creative I can get in incorporating them into a grateful post.

Grateful . . .  

 . . . that basketball season has begun, and I'm ready for it. Is my blood pressure? Time will tell. Curly played varsity volleyball in the fall. She really enjoys it. Some calls are still unclear to me, and you'll find me asking other parents, Was that because someone touched the net? What's 'Side-out?' mean? I'll never fully grasp the rotation business. It's different from backyard volleyball, which translates to being above my pay grade/ability level. 

Following each scored point, the girls gather in a circle and recite a chant or a cheer and celebrate. After each lost point, the girls link arms in the center of the court to from a giant group hug. In an effort to affirm each other's worthiness to be on the court, they partake in a quick compliment circle. These little sessions include 'we've got this' nods where they furrow their brow and their bottom lip takes over the top lip as they jut their chins out in an impressive display of confidence, considering they might be losing by a lot. Imagine if basketball games paused after each basket so teammates could validate one another. 

 Like I said, basketball season has begun and I'm here for it. 

 . . . that I didn't choke. While doing my best to follow the low FODMAP thing that I started in the fall, I bought a bag of frozen edamame. The store was out of sugar

This is NOT what I
choked on, but it is a
healthy snack
Becky introduced
me to after the fact.
 No outer covering.
These had
 onion and garlic
 or something
 and weren't OK for
 low FODMAP. 

snap peas. I recognized that these were not in fact sugar snap peas, but they looked like similar concept? I did not read the instructions, because who needs instructions when eating vegetable? I tried to eat the shell? the outer covering? the secret death trap? Not sure the proper label for this nasty 'health' food, but it almost ended  badly. I managed to get the stringy mess out of my throat, and plan to continue a  somewhat normal life that doesn't include eating edamame again. 

. . . that someone finally told me, that Google docs can be recovered if you are dumb enough to accidentally delete an entire 8 pages of writing. Coach and I were driving to tailgate with Mini. This was our day trip version, not our Gumby/load up the car with everything that we can make portable and as much food as we can stuff into a cooler addition. On the way there, I decided to work on a chapter for my memoir. When I clicked on the doc, it was a blog post that I'd copied and pasted into Google docs to check the work count, not wanting to post anything too lengthy. Well, my chapter seemed to be gone. I practiced lots of deep breathing and started hammering away at the keyboard trying to recall how I'd started the chapter while Coach side-eyed me, wondering if I was gonna recover. 

The chapter was bout a crush I had on a boy senior year of high school. My friends dared me (it really didn't take much as I was class clown material, anything for a laugh was how I rolled) to put a note on Boy's car. The Billy Ocean song, Get out of my dreams, get into my car, was a hit, so I wrote those lyrics on a paper and stuffed it under the wiper of his car in the parking lot. I did NOT sign my name, but the crush was public knowledge, so Yeah. 

I may or may not have been drinking black cherry High Noons (at the tailgate not in the hs parking lot) to drown out my Google doc frustrations when I told Mini what had happened.

Mini: I'm pretty sure you can go to Google docs, like setting or something, and recover a previous copy of it. Her friend confirmed this was true. 

A few days later, when I got up the nerve to try to recover it, I googled it, and it worked. Hooray! 

*********

After cutting and pasting this post into 'Blog size?' - my new Google doc strictly for checking blog size, I see that that's all I have space for today. 

Tomorrow I'll share my Neil Diamond show experience. 

Anyone care to share something silly they did in high school? Something your adult self didn't know how to eat? Do you know how to rotate in non-backyard volleyball? I'm grateful for you, and of course, for your lovely comments. Enjoy your day. 

Jean buying with Jan: part deux

(I was silly to think I could squeeze this into one post, con't from yesterday . . . ) Nordstrom remodeled since I frequented the place ('frequent':  I'd buzz over there every 6 mos., hitting Marshalls in between) So Curly and I were trying to figure out where her section was. I held up a pair of jeans. 

This is me wearing my new
 cropped/flared jeans
OMW to Founder's Day
dinner with fellow
 area alums. Mini insisted
that this is how
 these jeans are meant
to be worn.
 If I'm doing it wrong,
feel free to correct me.
I've been to Europe though.
 I don't think there is
 a 'wrong' way
anymore. Right?  

Curly:  Nope. Those are short. 

Welp, loads of jeans are supposed to show the ankle nowadays, but my tall chicks are sensitive (have PTSD from struggling to find lengthy jeans) about wearing anything short, intentional or not. 

A saleslady appeared:  Can I help?

Me:  I hope so. 

saleslady:  I'm Jan. 

Jackpot. She was awesome. Instrumental. It took me a minute, because she was wearing a mask, but Curly and I stepped into the dressing room and a lightbulb went off (like in my head, have no fear - the dressing room was well lit). 

Me:  OMG, Curly. That's her, that's the lady that used to work her forever ago. Hey, we're in good hands. She knows her shit. 

She understood Curly's body type and brought in stuff that would work. Curly declined several pairs, but then was like, WAIT, HUH. OK. I GUESS? 

Jan and I celebrated. We coaxed Curly along. It took her a bit to wrap her brain around jeans as a fashion option. Another pair:  Great, but soo big in the waist. 

Sweet!

Jan:  We'll alter them here. Our tailors are excellent, but it'll be an extra charge. 

The jeans weren't cheap and Curly about fainted.

Me:  FINE, IT'S FINE. 

We settled on three pairs. (one pair fitted and flared, the other two a bit more roomie in the legs, I think. Who even knows anymore. Curly was delighted. Mission accomplished). Curly didn't want me to spend so much, but I told her:  "We found jeans. They fit. You like them." I wasn't walking away. One pair didn't need alterations, but two did. Jan said if I opened a Nordstrom card, I'd get the alterations free (not sure if it was because I opened the card, like are alterations always free with the card? or was it because I got some kind of bonus for opening the card this one time). While she was modeling them for the tailor, Jan appeared with another pair. 

Jan:  For shit and giggles. Maybe they're too weird for her. 

Jan's: 'weird'
is Curly's YES!

Well, they were the bees knees. Really wide, overly long, and the waist fit perfectly. Curly thought about what pair she'd swap them for.

Me:  Oh, hell no. We'll just get four pairs. 

Tempting to pop into AE, wave our bags around in a Julia Roberts imitation from Pretty Woman:  Do you work on commission? Mistake, BIG mistake. 

The good news is the last pair rung up lower than the ticket, so they were really reasonable. While Jan rung us up, I told her I remembered her. She said my voice sounded familiar. She's from the south side, like my folks. We connected. I admitted Von Maur is my go-to. Jan used to work there. She was like, Well, now you'll be shopping here. 

Cliff notes:  I tried to open the Nordstrom card, but failed, forgetting that my credit was frozen. (just did this at Verizon too, duh). Curly and I went back Friday, per Jan's suggestion, after I'd spent all damn day unfreezing my credit. I called the store while we were driving there, unsure if Jan was working late and not wanting someone else to get her commission if we returned/repurchased. 

Ring*ring:  Is this Ernie Shenanigan?  . . . (Jan was the sales person to answer, she busted a gut laughing). 

When she returned all 4 pairs and re-rung them. She was like, Wait. Where's the other pair? (2 were at the tailor).

Me:  Um, Curly's wearing them. *shrug* (I've created a monster. She had to wear a pair to her volleyball banquet).

Jan:  You're killing me. I thought we were friends. 

That pair ended up being marked down from $149 to $104. Jan gave me the sale price, and I apologized for her loss of commission. 

OMG - it'll be hard to go back to Von Maur now. Jan is the bomb. 

Where do you have the best luck buying jeans for you or  people you shop for?  Do you have a Jan? 

jean shopping. A solid Nope to one store

 A couple of weeks ago, Curly and I were on a mission:  buy her jeans. We went to my fav:  Von Maur (department store in the Midwest). We had a small window between school and b-ball practice. I grabbed a bunch of pairs off the sale rack and some full price pairs . . . a sure sign of my desperation to find her a pair she liked. 

She's tall. She has really muscular booty and thighs and a small waist. In a nutshell:  tough to fit. We bought one pair that she was OK with, but agreed we'd leave the tags on and continue the search. 

Becky, my partner in crime who also runs a daycare, suggested American Eagle, having had success with curvy daughters. Wednesday Curly didn't have a lot of homework, so we bolted. AE was next to Nordstrom, so I told Curly that would be our backup plan as they were open an hour after AE. 

We struggled to find anything either of us liked at AE. Lots of jeggings. I'm not up on fashion trends at ALL, but are jeggings making a comeback? They had a lot of mom jeans. I had to ask an employee to define mom jeans. Nope I didn't know, don't pretend to be shocked. I forgot, Becky's girls aren't tall. Curly was like WHERE ARE THE TALL GIRL JEANS? Um? I asked another young sales girl to help us. I dragged Curly over:  Tell her what you want. 

Curly:  Long, flared, or wide legs, not uber high waisted, loose fitting thighs, etc. 

This employee lead us to a stack of jeans, suggested Curly try a pair, and then  . . . drifted . . . away, not helping other customers or anything, just faded into the rows of really ripped, really faded, horrible jeans. She never checked back, or asked if we liked the jeans, or inquired if we needed other sizes.

Nope. 

Peace out American Eagle. We won't be back. 

I'm unsure what I hate more:  shopping at American Eagle or Zara, a place Mini dragged me to a few years ago, because they had full length jeans but nothing in stock and lengthy lines and a lack of dressing rooms for the size of the crowd. Knowing Mini loved these jeans, I tried again. I ordered both girls pairs online. The fits were unpredictable and I gave up. 

Curly and I raced into Nordstrom. We got off the escalator and wandered. 

Me:  Oh, here's jeans. Let's try this. 

Fun fact:  I shopped at Nordstrom decades ago. I'd go if Coach was home and I could sneak away. Curly was a baby. I remember buying a black and white sailor top (I may or may not still own this . . . wait for the reveal in my closet post) that was like a swing top (is that a thing, or A line?), forgiving of my extra baby weight. I paired the top with a long white skirt for my cousin's wedding, which meant I could nurse Curly easily. 

I've been back to Nordstrom here and there, usually to return something Mom bought one of the kids for Christmas. Mom is mostly allegiant to Macy's, but she mixed it up from time to time. She tended to underestimate the size of our boys, who were only a size small briefly while in 8th grade. I was forever returning their shirts. 

Anyway, my Nordstrom's days pre-date my Von Maur  fixation. I used to shop N's sales racks exclusively in a section called Point of View. I liked the clothes' quality. I'd buy a handful of items each winter/summer. There was a sales woman, who was ALWAYS working. Full of energy. Dressed really hip. I felt a bit intimidated by her, seeing as I was a mom with a doughy body, zero fashion sense, and limited funds. 

And on that glowing 15 year self-reflection, I'll leave you on the edge of your seats, waiting to see if we score at Nordstrom. Stay tuned . . . 

                                           Are there some stores you've written off?  

                Do you tend to head to the same mall/store, or do you go in phases? 

tackling: closet, zoo, Neil Diamond, writing, meal prep, jean shopping, & networking (maybe I do need a spa visit)

What kept me busy last week?

Friday the 15th, I pulled everything out of my closet a few hours before we celebrated Coach's bday.

Saturday: It'd cost Ed $50 in an Uber to get back to his apt, so I offered to drive him back that afternoon. I brought the girls. They toured his place and loved it. 

                Them:  How does his place have this much space? I thought when people first move out, their apartments are small. 

                Me:  Work hard and stay in school. (the apartment visit feels similarly to the college visits: How great is this? Keep studying).

Another zoo picture.
They have a ton more
 lions at the Lincoln Park Zoo
than they do at the Brookfield Zoo.

After we left Ed's palace place, the girls and I visited the Lincoln Park Zoo. I had things to do, but this was me giving them a chunk of time in the shape of a fun outing. I later told Coach that I'd built this day into the weekend, knowing I'd be busy the next few days.  

My closet was begging me to finish it up. (It's a huge overhaul - a 'look what I found' post might be in the works). Coach took down the doll house bunk bed Saturday. Both big girls, who were excited to get a new bed, have struggled emotionally with the reality.

                Coach (after the dismantle): I found out today that they used to sit on the roof and slide down it like a slide and land on the bed.

                Me: Yeah, I knew that. (I looked at Rae with a raised eyebrow) Nothing gets past me. (I think she's already aware of my special powers).

Bit by bit. The end of an era.

Curly and Mini want the dollhouse bunk to be saved for their kids. If they both have girls, I guess they draw straws. Maybe we'll store it in the room under the basement stairs, which will involve a cleanout of that space. Nothing like a chain reaction to get rid of/reorganize one's junk treasures. The new trundle bed is still sitting in a box in the garage. 

*Coach packed that trundle bed box into the van when we were moving Reg to IN. I was like, Wait, that isn't Reg's. Good thing one of us knows what's inside every box and behind every door, too bad I still can't account for his missing passport. Last week he completed the new passport application. He now has a copy of his birth certificate. Wonders never cease. 

The before (when Mini was still home
 from college in the summer, thus
the mess. Now, what to do
with all the displaced books?

Sunday, I finished writing my chapter (took forEVAH), worked in my closet for an hour or two, and bolted to my folks' house. I was meeting my sibs to go downtown to see Neil Diamond's A Beautiful Noise. *reporting back on this on Friday

Monday was my writing group. My chapter was well received with some parts to rework.

Tuesday Reg alerted me that he was out of meals and meds. That's the order the request came in. I was like Dude, prioritize meds over meals please. I ran to Costco, packed meals/anti-seizure meds in a cooler, and dropped it off at Reg's coach's place. He lives in the next town and commutes to IN for practices. When I got home, Rae asked if I'd remembered Goldfish and trail mix. Nope. Perhaps shopping at 7 pm isn't ideal.

Wednesday I took Curly shopping for jeans, a desperate and eventually fruitful mission that deserves its own post . . . check back Tuesday.

Thursday I took the girls to Curly's game, but sent them home with Curly so I could stick around and get caught up with a friend of mine who showed up to watch her daughter play in the next game. I was hoping to connect with her. Her husband started out selling cars, and I'd love for him to network with Lad, who's very focused on a job change.

Do you have storage areas that only get attention when you shuffle in new stuff? What's your super power? Do you typically knows where everything is or would you mistakenly plan to drop off a box at the wrong destination?

Murphy's Law: the plumber addition, and a way-off massage suggestion

For our 2016 Glacier adventure, I hard boiled approximately 4 dozen eggs, peeled them in advance, and loaded them in a cooler. Days later, I distributed one from my stash to each kid early a.m. while we staked out a spot to see wildlife. The kids started complaining. I scoffed at them. "Stop whining. That's breakfast." 

Because I'm the mom, and I feed everyone else first, I took a bite of my egg a few minutes later, or honestly it might have been Coach. "OK, SPIT THOSE EGGS OUT. SORRY GUYS." Apparently egg minus shell spoils fast. Oops.

Every damn time we prepared to leave for a national park, I ended up 911-calling the plumber about a backed up sink. 

June of '16, plumber:  Stop putting hard boiled egg shells down the disposal. 

I've shared this photo before, but here to give you nightmares is a Glacier-game-day visual. The plumber is on the floor working on the sink. This is the kitchen before the addition. Mini is eating breakfast amidst the chaos. Oh, I just noticed a kid doing a faceplant in the family room in the background. I brought most of our meals for our 10 day adventure and the kitchen took a beating.

This plumber, who my folks recommended years ago, is a good egg (wink, wink). I texted him a few weeks ago about a few irritating things, nothing pressing. 

When he stopped by Thursday, I showed him our kitchen sink. Lately, the faucet sprays aggressively. I get it faucet. I totally get it. (pausing to validate my faucet). He said call Kohler. Request a replacement. 

Fast forward:  I'd emailed family therapist Caitlin Thursday night after drafting Friday's post. Part of the reason for that post and my 'Am I not connecting enough?' issue . . . Coach had taken a jab at me. 

While I drafted my intended 'We need less structure' post, Coach was across the room consulting Kay on friend drama that I was unaware of. When she went to bed, I asked him how he knew. 

Coach:  Well, I talk to her. 

Shots fired. I talk to her too, but this didn't come up. I told Coach that I didn't like what he was inferring.

This past week I was out and about in the evenings more than normal. *I'll share my busy evenings soon.

Friday morning:  Caitlin emailed that she had 15 min between patients. I emailed to say, I'll chat for 15. 

I was on hold with Kohler about the faucet during our email exchange. When I clicked over to Caitlin's call, she asked what I was up to.

Me:  I was on hold with Kohler, but I'll call them back. 

Caitlin:  Oh, great. Are you scheduling a massage? (there's a Kohler Spa not far from my house)

Multitasking-me was eating breakfast. I choked on my oatmeal. Death by laughter.

Me:  No (cough, cough) we need a faucet replacement.

Friday morning, the day AFTER the plumber stopped by to address my few concerns, the dishwasher had a flashing E 15 code. I tried all the 'things'. No go. Sat. am, our other dishwasher (they are right next to each other) had run, but hadn't cleaned the dishes.

STOP IT. Can you believe I had to text the plumber Saturday morning? Our appliance acted up the day after his visit. We hadn't needed his services for YEARS.

Oh, and Caitlin said I should tell Coach that I'm glad he's connecting with Kay. At least one of us is. This isn't a competition.

I told you she was great. Show of hands, who would've been quick enough to come up with that response in the moment?

Coach and I discussed his comment Friday night. We're on the same page most of the time, but sometimes we need to review the fine print.

I made brownies with Kay this morning, since she was awake hours before Rae. We have a plan to coat them with whipping cream. I suggested we decorate with strawberries, but I told her she can suggest topping options. Both girls have a friend coming over today for a bit and they'll join us at Curly's home b-ball game this afternoon. (sobbing over the continued state of my bedroom where closet vomit lingers . . . when will I get back there?)

Have you ever needed a repair guy for a new issue THE NEXT DAY? Do you put egg shells down your disposal? How relieved are you that we put an addition on our kitchen? (I know, I know, I didn't NEED a kitchen addition. It was a huge splurge).

a Mini moment: I'm not crying, you're crying & Cherry Dessert recipe (scroll to bottom)

Here's a funny Mini moment, lightening the mood, and buying myself time to finish my next draft. Who doesn't enjoy a good Mini anecdote? If you're like Jenny in WV and you want the cherry dessert recipe, and why wouldn't you want pure dessert perfection in a fairly easy recipe? . . . I'm adding it to the bottom of this post. Enjoy your Saturday. 

                                                                                *****

I'm not crying, you're . . . WAIT - WHY AREN'T YOU CRYING? 

Mini and I made a fun stop at her friends' lake house on our way to drop her off for school. It was a Friday near the end of August. There was a revolving door of girls /parents arriving at the lake house in various stages of before/after their move in process. Some of the girls had approval to move in early for clubs, or freshmen orientation helpers, and the rest of the girls were winging it like Mini. 

We relaxed on the beach and I brought leftovers of the caprice skewers and the Christmas crack from book club the night before. Coach wanted to help Mini move in, but wasn't interested in the beach or being social. Shock. *he figured it would be all moms/girls, and it basically was. Plus, he prefers shade to beach. 

Mini didn't exactly have permission to be in the dorm until Saturday. She worried about crossing paths with her rector - a woman, who leaves one to wonder WAIT, WHY DID YOU APPLY FOR THIS JOB AND WHY DID ANYONE HIRE YOU FOR IT?  She's VERY passive aggressive and not at all social or engaging, yet she's young. Why so jaded? She cancelled parents' weekend last year with no legit reason, prob b/c she worried about mingling with parents. Fortunately, all the girls' folks came in town anyway. We all knew one another thanks to the freshmen parents' weekend that didn't get cancelled the year prior. 

It was wonderful to be together, laughing, and celebrating that Kate survived her sepsis scare.  *new readers:  one of Mini's roomies got a small cut that got infected. The girls thought it was weird when urgent care gave her lotion/dismissed her, so they carried her to their car - she was in BAD shape - and drove her to the ER. The ER docs said the girls' insistence to seek care saved Kate's life. They considered amputating her leg, but she has fully recovered. 

All that to say, the Eagle flew at midnight . . . translation:  we left the beach and met Coach, who opted to drive separately, at the dorm at 7 pm. We never saw Ms. T00YoungToBeThisGrouchy, and didn't have to compete for carts to move her stuff in because no one else was moving in. We never waited for the elevator. So, it was great . . . accept:  Mini was now back at school and I was without her. Boo. 

A day or two before she left:

me:  I'm really gonna miss you. (silence, or maybe she said Yeah, I know). 

me:  Yeah, it's OK that you didn't say I'm really gonna miss you back, because you're going somewhere fun, to hang with all your amazing friends. 

Mini:  No, I'm still gonna miss you. I just don't wanna get all mushy. 

This coordinates with
 the recipe below.
 Since when can they sell pecans like
 this and call them chopped? Who are
 they kidding? No one chopped
these up. I fear I've
 been overcharged.

The 3 of us went to dinner after our secret move-in mission was complete. We sat at a table in Chipotle across from the ND senior swimmer who won a gold medal in the Olympics on the relay team. When we dropped Mini off at her dorm, we had to wait to be sure someone let her in since her keycard wouldn't be activated until Sat. 

When I hugged her good-bye, she said nothing. I'll take her silence to mean:  "I'm gonna miss you, too." because she prob feared trying to form words would've lead to mere emotional squeaking. I think she might have shed a tear. 

I never asked her, but I wonder if she packed Resolve carpet cleaner. Um, I discovered that she'd been accidentally treating stains on her clothes with a bottle of Resolve in our laundry room all summer. And, once I emptied the washer of her load and found her laundry was dry, but covered in detergent. Turns out she didn't know how to set the washing machine. She turned the dial past wash and onto spin. Case #548 of:  I can't make this stuff up.  

NANA’S CHERRY DESSERT

Family favorite since I was a girl

2 cups fine graham cracker crumbs (use less if 8 x 8 pan)

½ cup butter

1 pkg 8 oz cream cheese softened

1 cup powdered sugar

2 TB milk

1 cup chopped pecans (use less for 8 x 8 pan)

1 tsp vanilla

2 TB sugar

1 cup whipped whipping cream

1 can cherry pie filling

½ tsp almond flavoring

Combine crumbs and butter in an 8 x 8 pan. *I think all the measurements are for an 8 x 8 pan with the exception of the crust. 2 cups is too much for an 8 x 8 and a little under the right amount for a doubled 9 x 13 version. I think. This is how my mom copied the recipe for me decades ago. If I double the recipe, I use a 9 x 13 pan. I tend to just mix the graham cracker crumbs and wing it - adding more crumbs or more butter until I think the crust is about right.

Beat cheese, powdered sugar, and milk till smooth. Spread over the crust. Top with nuts. Fold vanilla and sugar into whipped cream and spoon over nuts. Combine cherry pie filling with almond extract and pour over all. Chill overnight.

Nobody said it was gonna be easy

Kay and Rae have no school next week. At all. I babysit Monday and Tuesday, and they'll be home with me. I'm a bit concerned about what to do with them all day for two days. I can try to have them invite friends over, but that often ends with one girl not finding a buddy, which can be problematic. College kids/gap year kid return Tuesday late afternoon. The girls' biological grandparents might take them one day next week. 

*that's another story entirely, and we've just recently allowed visits again because they REALLY stepped in it with us early on. They now see how they messed up, and want to be involved. Baby steps* 

It's crazy, but the little girls prefer to be at school and they're open about that. Funny, I prefer them to be at school too. I didn't feel like that with my biological kids. I wanted them here all the time. Back in the day I was ready for school to start at the end of August, because I was ready for a schedule - but ultimately I missed them. 

Typing that paragraph makes me feel awful, like I'm a terrible person with no patience and void of a heart. I want to cry. 

Last weekend I took
 them to see Ed's
 new apartment
when I drove him
 home, and then we went
 to Lincoln Park Zoo. 

The situation is not horrible, really. It's just that some days/parts of this are hard. We do have fun, but life is busy and not always conducive to relax mode. 

In order for Rae and Kay to be more 'at home' when at home, I think we need to relax some of our structure. But how? It's hard. Structure was part of the foundation we laid for them, and it's new for them. It's been essential for this placement to succeed. A need for structure is not unheard of when fostering/adopting. I'm finding it hard to back off of our 'system.' I think back on how things were when our bio kids were growing up, or I read Sarah's posts about the fun she has with her kids, and I want to create that here, now. Ugh. I wish it was as easy as it was with our older kids. 

No one ever said it was gonna be easy and it isn't supposed to be and everything is fine and we will get there. It's just gonna take time. These are all things that I know. The girls are happy here. They are excited to be adopted. They enjoy being part of our family. *deep breath*

On school nights, the girls spend a ton of time doing homework. Additionally, Kay has some academic challenges. It's tough to carve out chill-out time. We play games with them when time permits, but that's usually more likely on weekends. We played more games, esp backyard volleyball in the summer. Last night they came with me to Curly's home basketball game, but there's not a ton of connecting happening there. 

To be clear, our bio kids had quite a bit of structure too. They laugh about how they learned to steer clear of me (particularly when I was cleaning house or on some sort of mission) or I'd give them something to do. Playing outside or in the basement, etc. meant I wouldn't ask them to do a chore or read a book. 

Kay and Rae struggle with free time. The basement has it all:  karaoke, foosball, ping pong, all.the.arts.and.crafts, air hockey, the Wii (that we bought them at Christmas). All is fine when they each have a friend over, but that isn't always an option/doesn't always pan out. When Kay went to be tutored by my dad a few Saturdays ago (more on that later), Rae sat around. Literally. I was trying to do some writing in my study and she would come in and try to chat with me. She and I connect just fine, but I was like, "Hey, I have to get this done." I find it irritating that they can't entertain themselves. Kay will play in the basement solo. 

They like to bake with me, so we can probably bake something for Thanksgiving next week when they're home. I can invite friends over - especially if I plan it out in advance, so we have time to identify available kids. They can play with the babies/tots I sit for. They both enjoy that. 

I think maybe we should try to watch a show with them every once in a while. We've watched episodes of America's Got Talent, and some of the home improvement stuff. We've also watched a ton of movies for family movie nights like League of Their Own. Any suggestions? We steer as far away from non-PG as possible. 

Full disclosure/why it's hard:  I've bonded more with Rae than I have with Kay. Rae is the 8th grader, the older of the two. Our family therapist, who is really great - so supportive and encouraging and tuned in, suspects that Kay might have a touch of reactive attachment disorder (RAD). This revelation has me a little spooked. The two boys we tried to adopt in '21 we believe had a severe case of RAD. It wasn't diagnosed, or if it was it wasn't disclosed to us. Either way - really hard. 

The girls share a DCFS therapist right now (separate from family therapy). DCFS therapist has told me that she has also bonded with Rae, but is struggling to bond with Kay. This made me feel a bit better, because maybe it isn't just me. Kay has been approved to have a neuro psych evaluation, but the wait is lengthy. We wonder if she has a processing disorder in addition to ADD that we finally had her diagnosed with over the summer. 

Kay struggles to be genuine. She puts on a facade, is very sneaky, craves drama, and is manipulative. It's hard to get close to her. Things are SO much better than they were initially when Kay would stare at us ALL.DAY.LONG (not bad behavior - just watching how a real family behaves, but incredibly unnerving). Much progress has been made. I'm confident that things will continue to improve and I know I need to do more to engage and connect, particularly with Kay. Rae has a great sense of humor and that's been very helpful in building a relationship. 

*********

I'm sorry about another lengthier-than-intended post. Suggestions on how to ease the structure (I'll be chatting with the family therapist about this topic this week, maybe later today if she can fit me in)? Favorite family movies/shows? Favorite family game? Even if you don't have experience with an adoption journey, your support is most appreciated. 

 

Mattress quandary: what to do? Bonus: how gma rated old mattress 'new' & do you know the blogger who was at my wedding?

I just took a wild trip down memory lane to find a post I think I wrote. Unsuccessful. Cliff notes:

When we got married, Coach was a full time student getting his PT masters. I owned my own one bed condo. I slept on a twin. My grandma gifted me her old mattress. "Honey, it's practically new. We barely used it. My mother died on that mattress." 

Um. What? Something didn't jive with those two statements. How was it new if my great-grandmother passed away on it? Frugal me accepted the gift and a week later (this was a year or so before we were married) Coach helped me carry this flimsy, sad excuse for a mattress to my car. Lacking structure, it was more of a glorified piece of foam that we could practically roll up and stick in the open hatch of my Sundance. 

We married in 1996. (Kari, we realized years later, was at our wedding - I couldn't have made up this far-fetched tale). When he got into bed after studying late (and I was already asleep), we would roll into the center. Less than a year later, we used our Marshall Fields discount for having registered there, or maybe we returned gifts and scraped together some cash to purchase a queen mattress. Hooray.

My (other) grandma passed away when Tank was an infant in '03. My mom used her inheritance money to buy each of her 5 kids something to remember Grandma by. She suggested that Coach and I choose a bedroom set. I shopped with Mom, careful to get one without a footboard. Coach is 6'4". We'd been using an old dresser and the free metal bedframe. At the time, we never thought we'd move from our  colonial home. Our bedroom was too small for a king.

In 2009, we moved to our current home and our master bedroom is HUGE. We wish the square footage was more evenly distributed to the kids' rooms, but the boy room is 15 x 17, so we can fit 3 guys in there. 

Anyway, this is why the thought of ditching my furniture is hard. Mom has Alzheimer's now, but she always liked nice things. Enjoyed shopping, etc. She'd be the first to urge me to get the king. I can hear her say, "Oh, this room could take a king." (She probably said that the night she and I left 5 kids on the driveway with my dad while we toured the house with baby Curly . . . Coach, who was at work, agreed to bid on it sight unseen even though our house wasn't even listed. I argued not many houses would fit us. There were supposedly multiple offers but the owner wanted baby Curly to live in her house. Luck of the Irish baby?)

Pine Cone Hill Madeline quilt

I love my quilt. '15-ish. When it got a stain and the dry cleaners lightened the colors on part of it in their attempt to clean it, I bought a back up that's still in a box in my closet - to be used when we have less kids home/there's less chance of stains, etc. 

The bed that I bought the older girls is a queen with a full trundle. They have a full/twin mattresses right now. (Coach dismantled their dollhouse bunkbed that has been a staple here for about 15 years. I mentioned a busy weekend. Also, emotional). 

My thought:  we gift the girls our queen (it's old as dirt, and looks like we snuck it out of a crime scene, if you catch my drift) and we could get a new mattress. Or we could get them a new queen and we could get ourselves a new mattress as

Partially dismantled.
The end of an era. Both girls
 wanted this bed gone. Both
struggled a bit when
 we took it down.

well. My folks will downsize soon-ish and I do like their furniture, but if a sibling wanted it - I would stand down. Not worth a battle, which is how I feel about most things related to my parents' belongings. 

Anyway, I want more sleeping space. I unwittingly married a furnace. Plus, 6'4"? and before I started shrinking, I was almost 5'10". I love LOVE hotel kings. To Engie's point in yesterday's comments:  cuddle time is fine, and he will always be ready and willing, but I want to not smell garlic through his skin at night if he's had a work party dinner. I do not want to fight for my spot in the bed after I've gotten up to pee. I want SPACE. 

Questions:  If we get a king, and I'm leaning towards it, what about my headboard/furniture? Shop for something new? (In all honesty, one corner of the bed is being propped up with a pile of books, so it hasn't held up great. Lest you get any ideas, the broken bed is not due to any overzealous married couple goings on). Do I ask a handyman to figure out how to somehow make the headboard into a king? Do I ask a seamstress to sew together the current quilt with the one in the box in my closet? (I DID just look, and the same quilt is on ebay in a king).

And - I just mentioned the 'let's go the king route' to Coach. He's NOT onboard. "Waste of money. We aren't overweight." What? I don't need to be overweight to enjoy a comfortable sleep space. So, this might be a long-drawn out ordeal. *sigh*

In terms of mattresses, do you love yours? Posturepedic? (note how I'm powering forward in my quest for info?) Hit me with your recommendations on the off chance we do some mattress shopping this weekend. 

*****

Anyone else sleep on a mattress that their great-grandma died on? Did you buy a house before seeing it/your spouse saw it? Does furniture hold sentimental value for you? Do you have a backup quilt in your closet? Do you think Coach'll change his mind?

overwhelmed: look away if chaos makes you uneasy

I'm overwhelmed. There's a lot going on. None of it is unexpected or out of the ordinary. But I'm having one of those days when I feel like there's no chance I can catch up. 

I can't find my paper bill to Verizon and I need to set up auto pay. I'll not share a photo of my countertop that really needs sorting out of respect for your sleep. I don't want to be responsible for nightmares. (well, I NEEDED to get this done and Verizon just emailed me and invited me to set up autopay. I'm taking this as a sign that these daily tasks that are nagging me WILL get done). 

I'd like to draft a few posts for the daily fun of NaBloPoMo, because sometimes the end of the day arrives and I realize - WAIT, I HAVE TO WRITE SOMETHING. I've thought about doing one of those AMA (ask me anything) forms, but how? Here's my attempt  here. Let's see what happens. If you think this isn't the correct way to do this, do tell. 

And, to that end - I have so many things to blog or write about, but not enough time, or I think Where's that little slip of paper where I wrote down what I wanted to blog about?  Because I really am about as old school and non-techie as one can get. 

Plus, I want to reply to your comments and I keep carving out time to read all the great blogs out there, and then I look up and nap time is almost done and I need to change the laundry and I need to reach out to the pediatrician AGAIN, and I've got to send a few emails, and call the school and confirm what color leggings the girls can wear under their uniform skirt.

And on Saturday a person in my writing group whose turn it was to read a chapter on Monday offered her reading spot, because she wasn't ready. I jumped at the chance. I've been writing about a hilarious '87 vacation that I took with my dad, youngest brother, and same-age male cousin to Yellowstone. We also did a 3 day horse pack trip in the Grand Tetons, and guess who had her period? Yep. Like I said, hilarious tales. It took me most of the weekend to complete the saga's concluding chapter. It received high praise at my Monday meeting, which is great - but there are things in life I need to attend to. 

Oh, and I missed Curly's season opening game for my Monday meeting. Coach couldn't go either, but he's able to say things like, "There are plenty of games this season." - and not feel guilt. Curly didn't care. I could've made it work if it was a home game vs 45 minutes away. We lost in OT, and Curly had a career high of 18 points, 11 rebounds. Super exciting game. I hated missing it, but maybe I can watch it on Huddl. (the school recording thing). 

OK, deep breaths.  

I took Rae to the pediatrician last week for her acne. Our dermatologist doesn't take Medicaid. The girls can hop on our insurance once the adoption is finalized, which should be between Jan and April. (Parental rights are being terminated Dec. 20th.) The doc was great. He called in an RX of Epiduo forte. Medicaid refused to fill. He called in another prescription. Medicaid refused to fill. Foster kids aren't allowed to have clear skin? We'll try something over the counter. Also, Curly goes to our dermatologist on Monday. What if she happens to request a refill of Epiduo forte (that she hasn't used for years)? Hmm.  

And - I'm trying to help Lad network for a new sales job. He has to get out of the car business. It's almost impossible to stick with that grind for very long. He NEEDS a change. 

Look away if chaos
makes you uneasy.

Plus, one of us lost a passport (hint:  it wasn't me). How? Coach and I want to visit Mini in Italy next semester. I already got my renewed passport in the mail. Someone doesn't even have a copy of his birth certificate. *how is that even possible when you're in your 50s?* I went through all the important papers and I have at least 4 copies of each of the kids' birth certificates and mine. 

Because I'm bored or have serious know-your-limit issues, I emptied my Irish knit sweater and Irish dancing dress storage facility closet over the weekend. Coach and I are relying on GPS to locate our bed in the maze of bins and heaps of to-be-discarded items (once I can wrap my brain around it). I've told him to send help if I don't return from my trip to the bathroom during the night. But - changes are happening, or my name isn't Keeper Of All The Things. 

A means to an end.
Maybe the end of me?

Oh, and a new baby started Monday. I'll write up a daycare update soon. *maybe if I note it here, it'll happen? And, a 15 month old who weighs 15 lbs (practically how much Tank weighted at birth) won't nap here, because she keeps pooping during nap time. This has never happened before. We eat lunch at 11, so everyone can take care of business before naps. 

Next up:  I'll be coming at you seeking mattress purchase advice and thoughts on king vs queen and how that's complicated by a queen bedframe, etc. Which will be followed closely by:  Should I keep it or should it go . . . wardrobe items that might be past their prime. Plus, I have to fill you in on all the stuff we did last weekend. It was a whirlwind. And, I'm bound and determined to share the 'Almost' 50th bday gathering for Coach 3 years ago. If you've been here long enough and you remember what happened a month and three years ago, you might put two and two together. 

Thanks for being here. Thanks for commenting and thanks in advance for sharing what is making you overwhelmed/what's on your to-do list that you keep ignoring, and if overwhelmed how do you cope?  Did you try the AMA form and does it appear to work? Have you lost a passport?