Another post? The anniversary adventure - starring me as a honeymooning Carol Brady

(* might want to read the first part of this saga - it'll deliver more laughs that way). On the 60 min round trip drive to the far south side, an area we wouldn't normally venture at night, I regaled Coach with tales from when we started dating and when he proposed, etc. so we stayed 'in the moment' . . . sort of. After leaving the car, we went to another bar. After a short attempt to rally and hang, we called it a night and returned to the hotel. 

The next morning, we went to mass and then breakfast. We had to transport Tex from the street to the repair shop. Would Ed handle it? Ed wasn't interested. I offered to cook a vat of chili for he and his friends in the fall during football viewing. 

He took pity and tried to uber there. Then texted Coach:  "Is this a not-so-great area, because all the ubers are cancelling?" 

Yes, we did replace
the $50 used tire
 with a $100 new tire the
next week. Why do you ask?

I waved the white flag. "Tell him we'll do it. It's fine. We can get the minivan from the garage, get Tex pulled into the repair shop get a new tire. Then we can go enjoy the rest of our Sunday."

The woman working at the repair shop couldn't have been nicer. She was missing most of her front teeth. I told Coach I wanted to donate dental care for her. It broke my heart.

I think it was $50 for the tire, 30 min later we were on our way. I followed Coach in the minivan to park Tex on the street near McCormick Place. To get there, GPS took us through some scary areas. I begged the traffic lights to stay green, so I didn't have to stop, worrying the popped tire would end up with Coach and I being shot or car jacked. It was feeling like a scene from a movie, and I was so relieved when we got outta there.  

Together in the minivan, we headed to the beach, which I thought was odd. Whenever I suggested we do something else, Coach said we were going to the beach for at least a little bit. 

We parked at the zoo, and walked to the beach - on the sidewalk people were leaning up against the little buildings that sell ice cream, etc - they seemed to be enjoying the shade. I noticed a kid  - who looked just like Reg. He was averting his eyes. I did a double take. Wait, it WAS Reg. 

Did he sneak downtown instead of caddying? . . . then I noticed - ALL OF OUR OTHER KIDS WERE LEANING IN A ROW NEXT TO HIM all of them averting their eyes.

I stopped walking - "WAIT? WHAT ARE . . . ?" 

Coach was standing ahead of me on the sidewalk, grinning.  

The kids put on sunscreen and went into the water, and I stood there blinking. Not gonna lie, I was like WHAT THE WHAT? I THOUGHT WE CAME DOWN HERE TO BE ALONE? Even the fam therapist had advised me to enjoy the getaway and to not even talk about Kay (she'd been pushing my buttons so much at that point). 

Then Coach explained.

Ed, Mini, Reg, and Curly
playing spike ball.

We'd gone to the beach earlier in the summer with just the 3 youngest girls, and Curly admitted to Coach that it wasn't the same without the older sibs. So, Coach asked all the kids to show up on this day, to give Curly a bit of a do-over, beach-fun-wise . . . on our anniversary. 

Well, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind for our weekend away, but Coach's beach mindset was sweet. 

Remember -  when Mike and Carol Brady got married? (I'm talking Brady Bunch Show, 70's flashback) The kids missed their folks, and Alice brought all of them to Mike and Carol's honeymoon? Did I feel a tad like Mrs. Brady on her honeymoon?

Yes, yes I did. 

*****

If Reg hadn't puked on T-giving, I'd not have added that trendy post and I would've ended NaBloPoMo with my Carol Brady line. Anyway, thanks for hanging with me this last month. High praise for San, our fearless organizer. I'm hosting a party Dec. 10th for my local college alums, so peace out while I clean my house, and decorate. Who votes Coach and I get a downtown overnight redo the weekend of Dec. 12th when the girls go off to camp?

NaBloPoMo: closing in on the NaBloPoMo finish line with our Aug. anniversary story

NaBloPoMo - the last day! I've enjoyed reading new blogs and connecting with you in comments. I admit that my response to comments has dropped off. I'll get back there soon.

The anniversary story I've been promising:

Coach planned for us to go downtown overnight to celebrate our anniversary on Aug. 10th. 

Midweek Tank called:  a buddy from Creighton is having a grad party in southern Illinois and my roomies and I wanna go. We'll stay the night. They're Hispanic, the food'll be amazing. 

I got the hint - he'd need a car. 

Me:  We'll drive two cars down that Friday. You can use a car.  

Friday:  We unloaded more furniture for Tank's place that we'd stored in our garage. Then Coach and I tossed Tank the Tex (Ford Focus bought from my uncle a few years ago) FOB before driving off in the minivan. 

We checked into the Westin, and parked in the nearby garage, and walked to dinner. About halfway there, Tank called. 

Me:  Tank? You OK?

Tank:  Um, we're fine, but the car - well, we hit a pothole and popped a tire. We're in a bad spot and I don't wanna get hit but I don't think we're supposed to drive on the rims, right?

Coach got on the phone:  You can drive a bit - not like miles, but get somewhere safe. You can drive 100 yards.

Good food, but loud TVs
 and paper plates and
 seat yourself at sticky tables and chairs -
 not the vibe we were going for. Most of
 the sides were not GF. No baked potato?
 C'mon. But hey, this was the
 least of our problems. 

We hung up, and he was gonna try to change the tire. 

We ate at a BBQ place, way more casual than we anticipated. We ended up being on the phone or too stressed to talk between phone calls anyway. 

Tex didn't have a spare. The only option was to tow the car to a place with Sunday hours. 

I kept trying to figure out a way for them to get to the party. It didn't happen. In hindsight, Tank should've called Lad first in case he could get a tire from the dealership where he worked.

The night was young, so we shifted to relax mode at an Irish bar and had a drink. Then we got ice cream. Who says a night out can't be punctuated with ice cream? Coach's phone rang.

Tank:  The tow guy called - he thinks the car's still on. This whole thing is awful. We left hungry and sat there for hours and just got back to our apartment. 

Coach texted Lad to see if he thought the car might turn itself off. It's a hybrid, so it's quiet. The tow guy needed the car to be on in order to move the car, but it kept turning off . . . honestly, I don't even know. 

Lad looked it up - said he wasn't sure, but it was a bad idea to leave it running - might hurt the engine - not to mention someone could steal it. 

We walked back to the hotel to get the parking ticket so we could drive to check on Tex. I opted to drink my Miralax as long as we were in the room. I drank it, got hollered  for taking too long (tensions were high), we walked to the parking garage, and that's when Coach realized he'd left the parking ticket on the bed (that we'd gone back to the room to get). 

Back to the room. Got the parking ticket. BACK to the parking garage (if you're wondering - I was NOT wearing running shoes). Hunted down a parking garage attendant, who took pity on us. It was a one time in/out fee of $50. Instead he charged us $10. Then a fresh $50 when we returned. 

We drove to the far south side where Tex was parked on the street, verified that the car was NOT running (BTW I had the other Tex key FOB in my purse, for once me not hanging the spare FOB on the hook at home was ideal). Then we drove back to the parking garage to leave the minivan before continuing our night. 

Do we know how to have fun or what?

*****

This is only half of the adventure. You'll crack up at the ending. Can you blame Miralax for distracting someone from retrieving their parking pass? (I didn't think so). Did you know that the gift for the 29th anniversary is rubber?  As in, tires.

NaBloPoMo: meet Reg and Curly

sports obsessed - he drew Chicago
 Bears players all the time.

Reg, our youngest son, will be 20 in January. Since Thanksgiving's incident I have to share  . . . Coach and I flew to Colorado. Reg was 6. We farmed the kids out to various friends. Reg puked nonstop at his best friend's house.  

Same date the next year, Reg made his first communion. After mass, he started puking. He spent his whole party upstairs.

Young Reg was a badass - mouthy and bold. He'd been teased and messed with by his three older brothers. Lad was a teenager, who's favorite insult was:  'Hey, McFat!' When I tucked Reg in, I suggested we God bless his new preschool teacher (he was a lively one, I figured - she'd need that blessing).

Reg:  Sure, God bless, McFat! 

I about died. 

I lived in fear of future teachers and principals calling about my punky kid, who believe it or not freaked out if it started to drizzle. He outgrew his fear of rain, and of his badass bit. 

He's always been sports obsessed. 

Sometimes when he got dressed for church at age 4, he'd put his Bears jersey under his dressy sweater or shirt and appear unable to bend his arms. "I'n a footbaw pwayer." 

In high school, he befriended a man from church with an intellectual disability. Reg always gives him time. He meets him at the track to prep for Special Olympics. He went to all of Reg's home basketball games, and they text each other Happy Hump Day on Wednesdays. 

A nightmare thing happened senior year - a coach retaliated against him. Reg has epilepsy, and lost most of his verbal memory as a result of the stressful situation/lawsuit. (caused him mini seizures). He took a gap year, and while he hoped to play b-ball in college -  he prioritized his education/college experience. He's loving Creighton, where he helps manage the b-ball team. 

Reg and Curly - good friends. He'd sneak upstairs while I was cleaning the kitchen after breakfast, snag his blankie and her baby bear, so they could suck their thumbs on the couch during Sesame Street. He'd sidestep through the kitchen with the contraband (only allowed in their beds), saying:  "Nof-ing, Nof-ing." 

Curly turns 18 Dec. 19th. During my 'you're old - we're doing a special ultrasound' (just shy of 37 yrs), I peeked - I didn't think there was a penis, but wasn't 100%. Mini, who was almost 4, stood next to my hospital bed: "Is it a girl baby - do I have a sister?" Days later she asked, "Is it a boy yet?"

Me:  It's gonna stay a girl. They don't grow a penis afterwards - or we'll be on the Jerry Springer show.

Curly clung to me like a monkey her first year. Tummy trouble they never figured out. Unlike her sibs, she was tiny. Once she started whole milk (she never took a bottle), she grew like crazy - there was a bin of clothes she never wore. She stopped looking emaciated. Finally a chubby baby. Allergic to my breastmilk?

She started Irish dancing at age 4, because she was imitating her sibs. She was a natural. We'd holler up the stairs "get in the tub and stop dancing" when she was in kindergarten after hearing her practicing in the bathroom. 

She loves romcoms, basketball, horror/scary movies, competing, time with friends, doing well in school, and although she retired in 8th grade - she was a gifted Irish dancer.

A wise ass older brother
put Easter eggs in her shirt.

Moms that I'd never met would approach me at competitions: "Are  you Curly's mom? My daughter was backstage crying/nervous, etc and Curly befriended her/calmed her/gave her a pep talk. She's amazing and you should be so proud."

We're so proud. 

*****

Favorite romcom? Curly's probably seen it. 

NaBloPoMo: Our Pukes-giving

Reg flew home Tuesday night. He had a big group over in the basement Wednesday night. Coach made waffles Thursday morning. Reg ate a waffle, and then he puked. 

People assumed this was aftermath of drinking. I was busy making food, working out, and organizing all the food we were bringing. When I called down to the basement where Reg, Mini, and Curly were watching Stranger Things late morning, I asked Reg if he was OK. 

Yep, fine. 

We didn't have GW (Great White broke down yesterday - more on that later) to drive the crew to Coach's sister's house near O'Hare - 35 minutes away. Instead we piled our very tall family members plus a few short newbies, 9 in total (Lad drove from his house) into the minivan's 8 seats. 

While I had a captive audience, I read draft 1 of my Christmas poem. Ed suggested they each be allowed one interruption to make suggestions or edits. The four girls were piled into the way back. I had to lean between the two front seats to project my voice, so the girls could hear my rhyme. 

Envision:  minivan barreling down the expressway. Reg wedged between Ed and Tank. Coach driving, me leaning and reading. With literally zero warning, Reg became a fountain of puke. 

It took a moment for me to register the sound of a water faucet being turned on inside our vehicle. 

Say what you will about having a clean car  - how, then, would you cope with an unexpected puker? We pulled over and dug up a few plastic bags, an old towel, and a thing of baby wipes (ah, the life of a babysitter). Ed had a bit of puke on his pants, but miraculously no one else was wearing vomit. (Reg looked as though someone dumped a bucket of water over his torso). 

Me (on the shoulder of the expressway in freezing temps):  Did you have no warning? 

Reg:  I felt really hot, but my stomach didn't hurt. 

Coach dropped us off at his sister's, and drove Reg home. Reg puked again into one of the plastic bags. Then Coach returned to the party. 

It was Coach's dad's b-day.
 My niece made this
 amazing bday cake for him. 

We now sit and wait, like the unwilling science experiment that we are. Will being confined in a car with a sick kid lead to others catching the bug? (Coach blamed Reg for drinking, but Reg swore he didn't overdo and although he felt OK, he admitted to having no appetite). 

The entire family felt lousy and sad that Reg missed the party and cousin time. After he napped, Reg facetimed us. He got to play a game of Code Names while on the phone with the big kid cousins. Aunt sent home a ton of food for him. I had to fight him off when we got home - insisting he wait to eat it. 

Of course I now have to edit my poem to add how me reading the poem caused one of the kids to become violently ill. 

*****

If you were a betting person, chances other people catch the bug? How many? How long till it 'hits?' Fingers crossed, no one else goes down with it.

NaBloPoMo: on this food-centric day - my 5 tailgate menu musts

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm grateful for you. I appreciate you stopping by to read what I share, and I enjoy connecting with you in the comments. I hope you enjoy your turkey day, or non-US folks, enjoy your regular Thursday - the weekend is around the corner. 

We made a cake to celebrate
Ed's 21st at a tailgate. 

Tailgates of years gone by: my folks hosted tailgate at ND when I was a kid and when I was a student at Saint Mary's (across the street from ND). 

Box-o-chili

When Lad played football his freshman year at St. Ambrose, tailgating wasn't really a thing there (small school?), but we enjoyed chowing down in the parking lot after one of his games. 

We skipped football games at IU, where Ed went, his freshman year ('19). Instead, we attended Lad's senior year water polo games. Not in possession of a crystal ball, we never could've dreamt covid would interfere with everything, so our IU tailgating didn't kick in until Ed's senior year. 

I don't know this kid,
but that's the shot luge. 

That seems like yesterday, but also - forever ago.

ND tailgates with Mini:  Many families do a Jimmy John's sub or Chic-filet delivery, and offer an entire bar of mixed drinks - one family orders an ice sculpture with a luge for shots. 

The Shenanigans are much more food focused. 

1. cold weather: I don't like hanging outside, but chili pairs well with freezing temps. I make several crockpots of chili, plug them in in the airbnb overnight, load them into boxes at like 4:00 am, so they're in the car when I get in line/drive into the lot. I stuff towels around to insulate them. Big hit! 

2. Warm weather:  Taco salad. Another mom told me in October that my taco salad was the best thing she's ever eaten. I looked at her and said, I think you just told me you don't get out much.

Marked H for hot sausage. 

I mean it's good, but 'best thing'?

3. An early game:  Breakfast burritos  -
served at our IU tailgate -made in advance at home, packed them into the cooler, cooked them the morning of at the airbnb, and stored them in giant thermoses. I co-hosted this one with Ed's gf's mom. She was crazy about them and has since served them at other tailgates. 

Breakfast burritos prepping.

4. Appetizers/snacks:  7 layer taco dip, cowboy caviar, spinach dip, plain old potato chips and chip dip, trail mix, etc. 

5. Desserts:  rocky road fudge bars, chocolate chip cookies, cherry dessert, pumpkin bread, gf lemon sugar cookies, and maybe shamrock cookies iced. 

rocky road fudge bars

Taking Gumby off his perch

Fun fact:  Gumby also
owns an IU shirt

*****

Have you ever tailgated? What menu item would you be most excited for?  

NaBloPoMo: 5 things that are saving/enhancing my life

 1. Family therapist - I chose our family therapist from a list. We had a phone call, and I explained about our fam therapist experience from when we tried to adopt in '21. "Please don't make me do pillow sandwiches or crawl around on all fours doing silly things in order to bond with the girls." She giggled, and agreed. We've really clicked. Great advice and guidance. 

2. Speechify - Michelle mentioned this app on her blog. I did a trial - love it. I can listen to blogs or documents, like the chapters that my writing group members submit. I've listened to my own chapters, which has helped me hear things I missed when reading - like a word repeated too often, etc. I've even scanned pages from a book that I couldn't get on Hoopla, so I could listen while walking, etc. 

We didn't buy these. I felt like too
 summery. She got
black loafers instead. 

3. Mismatched shoes from Kohls - Both our adopted daughters have club feet - two different sized feet. Some high-end stores allow a mismatched pair purchase. Sale priced shoes rarely have inventory for us to match two pairs though. *sigh* I wrote  to Kohls (a US dept store), pointed out my girls have a disability and they should sell us a mismatched pair. Previously, they were:  WE DON'T DO THAT. They connected me with a store manager near us, and that location now allows me to buy a mismatched pair. 

I took the girls shoe shopping there Sunday. I found them each non-running shoes that they were excited about. 

Am I the last one to know that
 these existed in the world?
 Tell me you have a set.

Rae:  Shopping for shoes always makes me upset, but that was so fast and easy. I don't think I've ever been in such a good mood after buying shoes. 😍

4. It's the little things:  trivet mats - When Uncle moved out of his house, I inherited a few things that I didn't know I needed. Check out these straw trivet mats. How did I serve meals without these? I use them almost daily, and I think of my aunt and uncle whenever I pull them out. 

Can't find the summery
 pic I took. This is late
last night in cold blustery
 weather. Use your imagination:
  sun, beach towel, book, and water. 

5.  It's the little things:  end table - When we bought used patio furniture a few summers ago, it came with a few little end tables. Who knew tiny tables on the deck could improve life? Now when I sit on my lounge chair, I have a spot for my book and my water. 

*****

Have you inherited or been gifted something you didn't know you needed?  Are you hosting/cooking tomorrow?

NaBloPoMo: talking tailgating, a talk, and a (night) terror Tuesday

Coach was invited to speak at a retreat reunion of sorts at church last month. The date conflicted with the ND tailgate we hosted, so instead he agreed to be the November speaker. He failed to run the date by me. 

It was Saturday - Mini's last ND home game. If the weather was good - I hoped to join the tailgate fun*. 

* different than running it, mind you. I wouldn't be procuring the parking pass, camping at the entrance at the butt crack of dawn, scoring the best parking spot, and I wouldn't be purchasing enough alcohol to sink a ship. I would bring food, because I'm me. 

At first, I thought it was a night game. That would give me time to attend Coach's talk and then drive to ND. But, the game started at 2:30 (our time). Ugh. The weather looked perfect - upper 40s, sunny, and dry. 

I opted to be supportive and hear his talk, even though he said since I'd heard him practice it at home I could skip it. 

Saturday morning, Coach left early to attend his men's prayer group before his talk. 

Meanwhile - I dreamt that I overslept, a kid (who I don't babysit this year) wet his pants. I couldn't get the bathroom light on to clean him up. I had to shower. It was clear I'd miss Coach's talk. I was relieved that it was just a nightmare.

Coach's co-worker, who's like family/ has worked for him for decades, came over to sit for the girls, so I could leave. I scooped up the food/cooler for the tailgate, my extra layers, and headed to the church. Curly had a game and had to leave right after me.

There were about 30 people gathered. Coach was nervous, but once he got up there and started talking, he looked calm. He later said he felt calm. 

Sunset over the lake at ND on Saturday,
 spotted when I was nearing
 my 'ready to drive home' time.

He described his faith journey, our adoption experience with the ups and downs and decisions, and how we've trusted in God's plan. He mentioned how the issues we've had with 'an older kid' prepared us a bit for our current life. 

He did an excellent job, and I was so proud of him. I might've cried a little. 

I bolted afterward, drove to ND, tailgated, and had a blast. Um, so much so, that when the game started (no interest in attending), I needed to take a lap, or several, around campus so my margarita and 2 High Noons would not impair my drive home. I'm a lightweight. In my defense there wasn't a lot of GF food, aside from my 7 layer taco dip and some peppermint bark. Yum, but not filling. Good thing I snagged some of my taco dip when I set it up on the table. It was devoured. 

*****

Jenny asked me ages ago about my usual tailgate menu. I'll add that to my posts to share this . . . the last week of NaBloPoMo. I hope to share our anniversary tale too. Any other stories I've forgotten, or topics inquiring minds want to know? (oof, I still have a few more kids to write about in more detail).