file under: part 1 of another installment of posts that write themselves & UPDATES with prom pics

Jimmy update:  He was supposed to go home Tuesday last week, but they kept him until Friday because of a bloodwork issue. He was bummed. It sounds like he's doing well. Happy to be home. His speech and walking are improving, but that's taking time and making him feel a little 'off.' His meds need to be adjusted because his platelet count is so low. It would be dangerous if he bleeds. He starts outpatient rehab this week for speech and strength/endurance. 

I sincerely appreciate all of your prayers and positive thoughts. 

The underside.
It ain't pretty, but she said it
worked and she was happy
 to be able to dance.

*****

On a lighter note:

Prom dress update:  I added a French bustle to Curly's dress. Sewing through 2 layers of fabric (outer layer and like a slip?  I'm not referring to the extra train piece) was difficult, because it sometimes caused a gathered/bunched up issue. When that happened, I redid it. All credit to the YouTube videos and to my perfectionistic

Not perfect, but it worked and once
 the dancing started,  the
 dress' 'look' didn't matter

1st bustle attempt. Too long
- back to the drawing board. 

My work station, where
 I spent Thursday
 evening and my
day off Friday -
next to my diaper
 changing area.

tendency. Funny how I'm not a perfectionist when it comes to housework. 

I sewed 5 buttons inside the back of the dress not quite halfway up - the outer buttons not quite as high, because the sides weren't as long. Then I sewed 6 strips of fabric with a slit cut into it- a very basic button hole. Curly came home at lunch Friday, and tried it on. The dang thing was still dragging on the floor. I moved three of the buttons up higher. Bingo. 

I also removed the extra train piece, but added Velcro - best of both worlds. She left it on for photos and then I took the strip away piece with me when I left pictures, so it wasn't in her way at the dance. 

She had a great time, which I'm thrilled about. I also wonder HOW?  Her class is one of the worst, cliquish groups chock full of

It was so cold. In the mid 50s, but it was
 a pretty day. Her class met at the golf
course where she caddies, and she got a
 chuckle out of seeing the grounds
 keeper pacing, looking less
than thrilled. Her friend's
bustle, that was put on by the
 fancy place where she bought it, broke. 

mean, petty girls and clueless boys. A mom I used to sit for teaches there and she told me that she's shocked at what a horrid group they are.

Graduation cannot come soon enough.

Ta-da, compliments of velcro. 

*****

Friday April 17th, Coach flew to DC to teach a PT class. Kay and Rae had camp that same weekend. So, I decided to join Coach in the burbs of DC. 

Delilah:  Oh, great timing. You can see the cherry blossoms.  

Me:  (chuckling) Nope. We'll arrive at Reagan National. Drive to German Town, MD. Stay in a hotel that may or may not have a decent strip mall nearby, but will hopefully have a great workout room. I won't have a car while he's at his course. It doesn't matter - looking forward to getting away. 

Of course Coach teaches all day Sat. and half of Sunday, so not all relaxation for him. 

Friday:  We landed, got our rental car, and drove 40 min to the hotel. We checked in, put my fridge food in the full size fridge (does anyone love a full size kitchen in a hotel room as much as me?), then drove to Panera for lunch. 

We sat on Panera's patio. Coach hovering in the shade, and me enjoying the sun's rays and my Fuji Apple salad - esp because I allowed myself to eat non-low FODMAP foods, and drink a few drinks with alcohol - (hello, sugar) for the weekend. (I wasn't drinking alcohol at Panera, but apparently not everyone shared that plan).

An intoxicated man was hanging around the patio area, as one does at 3:15 pm in the burbs of DC. I laughed when he started singing the Juice WRLD lyrics:  "I don't need no molly to be savage, uh / But when I'm on the molly, I feel savage" This is a song that the girl's basketball team often played while warming up Mini's senior year. IYKYK. And if
you don't know, please raise your hand, because I think it's so funny, we should prob 'splain it. Seriously, what were the chances? Drunk guy hadn't been inside to hear our name called when Coach grabbed our salads. It was wild. 

I captured a short video of the drunkard's song to send the kids in the group chat before the management asked him to leave. (He came back 2 minutes later). 

(18 second video)

I was still laughing when my phone rang. Then - I stopped laughing. It was the girls' camp director. 

Me:  Well, this can't be good. 

It wasn't. There were tornados expected in the camp's location, so they were cancelling camp Friday night. They were still hoping to start camp Saturday morning. 

Not gonna lie. I wept. We were in DC. Our plans hinged on the girls being at camp. Will we never be able to relax again? 

I'll share how that all shook out in my next post. 

*****

Do you get why the Juice Wrld song was so funny and totally random? If you eat at Panera, what's your go to order? Have you altered anything recently? 

 

I'll be brief: prom dress train: should it stay or should it go? and non-fashion fails

Thank you for your prayers for Jimmy. 

*****

A Tuesday post from me? Weird, but true. I have 4 babies napping and 3 littles playing, so diving right in:

Curly's prom dress has a train. She wants me to remove it. I think I can. Biggest issue is probably threading the needle with my old-lady eyes. 

Back view without the train,
plus sticker charts for potty training
kids and two athlete of the
 week photos on the wall.

Coach and I wish she'd leave it. I showed pics to my hair dresser (also Curly's hair dresser) and to her math teacher, who's a mom I used to babysit for. Math Mom and I met for drinks Sat. night. 

The two ladies:  DON'T LET HER CUT OFF THE TRAIN. IT ADDS SO MUCH TO THE DRESS.

Curly thinks it'll be in her way. The dress is longer in the back anyway, so I don't think it'll give her any additional issue. I've offered to sew a little band at the corner of the train, so she can wear the band on her wrist.

the back with the train

pic of front of dress, plus
 3 high chairs in background.
Welcome to my life.

It's her day/ her dress. I paid for it and I hate the thought of hacking a chunk of it off because I think that's why it cost what it cost, ya know? But, ultimately I'll do whatever. She says her friends have all said 'get rid of it' - so she's not interested in the grown up angle. 

Poof:  summer up for grabs:  The 2nd semester summer school classes I'd signed Kay up for were cancelled . . . low enrollment. 

Translation:  the 6 weeks of free intervention summer school with free bus there and back from 8-1:00 Mon-Thurs is now only 3 weeks. I was like FINE, I'LL PUT HER IN FEE BASED CLASSES. There aren't any for incoming freshman (she's not going to high school there, but we're in district). 

There are youth academy classes through our junior college. Pricey and a hike - will need to be driven. I'll enroll her there. Next summer she'll presumably mature enough to caddy. Deep breaths. 

Sleepless Mini:  I woke up this morning to missed calls/ texts from Mini. She didn't want to tell me, but her anxiety ramped up recently - ie:  finals, projects, plus job search. 

Me:  You have the rest of her life to work. You can chauffeur Kay around / relax all summer. 

The RX and exercises haven't helped. She called a few minutes ago after sleeping 2 hours ALL NIGHT. Heartbreaking. Hoping the anxiety therapist can call her. I reminded her that fresh air, a short walk to get the blood pumping, and regular bedtime routines might help. She's got a sore throat/cold which isn't helping. Damn it. 

*****

Prom dress:  make like Elsa and let it go? (cut off the train as requested?) Or do you have another approach?  Anyone else's summer plans not panning out? I did teach Kay how to cook Pizza Casserole the other night for dinner. Good connection opportunity, and she likes to be helpful. I just really have my hops set on writing for hours each morning without interruption. 

scary situation

Before I share another installment of how some posts just write themselves regarding  our recent DC weekend away, I'm gonna ask for prayers for my cousin, T's son. 

8 cousins. As a person of Irish decent, only having 8 cousins is unusual. Unfortunately five of my cousins are already deceased, all died fairly young. 

• My dad's brother, Mike's two children took their own lives 33 years apart. Still hard to wrap my brain around. Incredibly devastating. 
• I had three cousins in Portland. Their dad, my mom's brother, divorced whey they were very young - between the divorce and the distance, we didn't see them much. The brother died of a heart attack about 5 years ago, when he was in his 50s and his older sister died after a short illness a few years ago when she was in her early 60s. So sad.
• My mom's sister and her husband raised their three kids in the city of Chicago. Their dad was a Chicago police office. These were the 3 cousins we saw all the time. They lined up with the 5 of us in age too. The sister was killed in a car accident two weeks before Christmas when she was 36. Her 3 kids in the backseat were unharmed. I was 8 mos pregnant with Reg. A tragic and heartbreaking loss. Her two brothers 'T' and 'D' live in the western burbs of Chicago, as does their mom. Their dad passed away a few years before the daughter. He had a heart transplant when I was in college, and was diagnosed with cancer about 10 years later. This family has had so many challenging losses. 

On Wednesday morning, my brother Pat forwarded me a text. It most likely was sent to him by my oldest sister, Ann. He probably got the info Monday or Tuesday. Since my sisters refuse to include me in family communication, I'm at the mercy of whenever my brothers realize I've been left out of the loop. 

T's son, Jimmy, is a sophomore in college. He called his folks Sunday, saying he didn't feel right. He was slurring his words. They told him to go to the ER. At the hospital, the neurologist was on vacation so they airlifted him to another hospital. (in the year 2o26 do we not have neurologists covering vacation time?). 

He had suffered a few mini strokes due to an aneurysm. He's 20 years old. He was struggling with swallowing and speech. After a few days in the ICU with therapy, they were seeing some improvements. Friday he underwent surgery to remove the aneurysm. The doctors anticipated a good outcome, but the aneurysm was in a tough spot. They planned to go in through a vein (I think), and hoped to not have to open his brain. 

Surgery went well, but they did have to put in a stint. He's very tired, but they already see improvement in his speech and they don't believe that he suffered any additional mini strokes. He has a long recovery ahead, but we do hope and pray that the worst is behind him. 

This could've ended very badly, and we are so grateful that Jimmy's guardian angel was looking out for him and that he called his folks when he didn't feel right. 

My aunt texted me that she's been a wet noodle. So emotional. Not at all surprising after all that she's been through. She's a very strong person. 

When we adopted the girls, we told them that all of our kids were given a name with ties to our family members, and we wanted to do the same for them. We chose Aunt's name as Rae's middle name, because they both share a similar strength and a great sense of humor. Rae embraced the connection. Aunt was touched when I told her our reason behind giving Rae her middle name. (Aunt's name is also my middle name).

Prayers for Jimmy and his family are much appreciated. 

*****

Woot woot! The 82 page
photo book that I made
for the family that graduated from
 daycare in '24 is done and ordered. 

Get excited for the latest version of:  posts that write themselves. Plus, I still oweyou the story of Tank handling a 'situation' while in Florida. Then hopefully my new dress will have arrived from ThredUp and I will do a fashion post as I prepare for ND's graduation. Think green. One never knows what to expect with the weather in May. If we continue on this current trend, I'll be wearing a parka. Folks in the Midwest, can I get an amen?

Great White: Will she stay or will she go (sob)? & where my time is spent

GW almost died on a 67 degree day end of March. It was a few hours before I was heading to the airport with Curly to visit USCA. I took the tots to the park. I wasn't worried- GW had died a few times in severe cold - and usually when backing up. 

After the park,  I loaded up the 5 tots. Backed out of my space, pulled onto the road, drove 20 yards and started to lose power. NO! I was flooring the gas while searching for the hazards button. Almost at a complete stop - then BAM it took off. Close call. My afternoon of getting home from the park and leaving an hour later from the airport flashed before my eyes. What if . . . ? 

I haven't driven the tots since. Too unreliable. 

It breaks down so infrequently that it's hard to recreate it. The mechanic can't pinpoint the issue. Sunday evening we dropped her off to be assessed again. GW's on its best behavior at the shop. 

Lad and Coach followed me in case they needed to push her. Lad had somewhere to be - so he drove separate. There I was, patting the dashboard - sweet talking with, "C'mon. You can do it." I called Coach and asked if he thought it was dumb to hop on the expressway. He thought I should probably take the expressway so I could drive fast. Me? Drive fast? C'mon. 

People, I cannot wrap my brain around not having GW. I've driven her for 18 years this month. #strongattachment

We made it without issue, but I had to laugh at our double escort in my rearview mirror. * this is my elevated view from what I fear is my last time driving GW. 

A few days later, Tim, the mechanic's office manager called. 

Tim:  I've been driving it around, so has Max. So far, we haven't had any problems.

photo from TMZ

Me:  I have to tell you -I picture the scene from 'Ferris Bueller' when the valet races Cameron's dad's sports car through the streets of Chicago, because I'm assuming you're probably doing something similar. 

I'm begging Coach to replace GW if she can't be fixed. we need I need another van to drive the tots/babies around. Plus, we're talking about going to Yellowstone next summer. Maybe I'll babysit grandkids when I retire (Maybe wrap this gig up when my current families graduate to school? 4 more yrs?). Is it wrong to hope for a van full of grand babies in the near future? 

I peeked at FB marketplace for other vans. (Shh, don't tell GW). I found a gray one. Um, slightly younger/slightly less mileage than GW. It's done it's not a former airport shuttle. It's a funeral home shuttle, complete with the name of the funeral home is on the side. What could be wrong with that? 

******

Recently Coach suggested that the reason I don't have enough time to write is because I answer the phone too often when our kids call. 

My brain:  Tell me you don't know what I do without telling me.

I've started texting him what I'm up to, what I'm working on, and how many more things remain on my list. He's been confused by this sharing of info. Why you telling me this?  

Last night, I swore I was gonna write this post and finish the photo book that I started a year ago for one of my most-loved babysitting families. Their son started as a newborn and graduated to kindergarten. His little sister was also here, but with the mom's work location and his aftercare - she couldn't be at both pickups so their last day was May of '24. The photo book is over 80 pages (5 years of pics!) and I'M SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE . . . it's a labor of love. 

But, Kae needed a bday gift for her friend who is moving to MI. I suggested stationary. Her bday was today. Hmm. Kae didn't know what stationary was. I put the photo thing on hold and we created the girl's name with flowers in the background, saved it as a picture - sent it to Walgreens and they printed 20 notecards with envelopes. Kay and Rae were over the moon this morning when they saw the gift. (I stayed up late and ran to pick it up). So cute. 

Then tonight, I was gonna FINISH THE PHOTO BOOK, possibly buy some of the things I've been stalking on ThredUp (my latest addiction), and WRITE THIS POST. 

not the version we
ordered but you get the idea

Then we realized that the merch from Curly's school never arrived and tomorrow is signing day. So, I hopped on the internet, designed a t-shirt, (I called the Maker Studio at the library but I couldn't use the machine) and ordered it at
design.samedaycustom.com that swears they're gonna deliver to her high school by 11:30 am, and yes, I paid out the ass for this t-shirt to be mega-rushed. But full ride gives me a unique I DON'T CARE perspective. 

*****

What keeps you busy that your spouse or family doesn't seem to grasp? Have you ever shopped at ThredUp? (she asks as she plans to sneak into her walk in closet and now wake Coach while trying on her own items to see if they will work and thus making part of her ThredUp shopping distraction unnecessary). Any car attachment people out there?  Have you dream of driving a 12 seater van? When the photo book is ordered, I'll be better about responding to comments/blog posts. Promise.

Great news after the 'Can you talk?' text & Kay: confused and found, hotel edition, tales of the Florida trip

Great news:  I never shared the fear here, but after Dad was released from the hospital last month, his follow up chest x-rays weren't clear. When I landed at O'Hare after the recruiting visit to SC with Curly, my brother Pat texted me:  Can I call you? 

=Not a good sign. The doctor had said the day before at the follow up, that maybe it wasn't pneumonia - maybe it was cancer. Remember Dad had 20 inches of his large intestines removed in July? He couldn't tolerate the cancer meds afterward. So, now the doc wondered if the cancer had spread to his lungs. 

He had another x-ray that Wednesday. Pat texted me on Friday while we were driving to Florida. NOT CANCER. The pneumonia took a long time to clear. Phew. Nana will be lost without Dad, so this was a relief on so many levels. That was a great way to start our trip. 

We ended our trip on a different note. 

Coach insisted we stop at a Comfort Inn south of Louisville. I was annoyed. I'd hoped that since we left at 6 am, we might be able to push through and get home that night. We'd driven for like 14 hours. What was 5 more? Plus we had Curly and Tank, who were both willing to drive a shift. 

Tensions were a tad elevated for various reasons. 

Coach left this on our bathroom
 counter top a few days
 later. Hello, PTSD.

After we checked into the hotel, I decided to take a walk. The room (note:  not plural- Coach chose one room for all 6 of us, I was not consulted) was really warm, but I saw Coach mess with the thermostat before I left to walk. It was dark out, but after sitting for so long, and after Coach grabbed the dashboard every time I made a lane change, well - I was happy to walk off my frustrations. 

When I crept back into the room, Rae was asleep on the pullout and Kay was asleep on a stack of couch cushions. Were they asleep, or were they suffering from a heat induced coma? Because the room was still SWELTERING. 

Coach and Tank were sharing a bed. Tank was awake, lying in a pool of sweat. Coach was asleep until I announced that there was not a chance in hell (and by the feel of things, we were maybe in HELL) that I was gonna sleep in a room with broken AC. I tried to mess with the thermos in the dark. Curly, who was wide awake in the bed she and I were gonna share, mouthed the words WHY'S IT SO HOT IN HERE?

I went downstairs to the front desk, explained the sauna room. The guy told me to give it 2o minutes. 

Me:  Well, we checked in almost 2 hours ago, what's 20 min gonna do?

Photo from my fired up walk.

When I got back to the room, Coach was getting dressed. By the time I finished brushing my teeth, Coach returned:  WE HAVE 10 MINUTES TO MOVE OUR STUFF TO 317. (from 205)

He woke up Kay and Rae. I started gathering chargers and bags and food from the fridge. It was still a scramble. Curly noticed that Kay was lingering. Rae had followed Coach out of the room. 

Curly:  Go, Kay. Room 317. What are you waiting for?

Coach, who'd popped back in the room to grab another load:  Where's Kay?

Tank and I stared at him:  She left a few minutes ago.

Great, now we'd lost a child in the Comfort Inn that was anything but comfortable. By the way, the hallways were like 55 degrees. I considered sleeping out there.

Coach raced up to 317 using the stairwell. He wasn't sure where his phone was, so I had no contact with him. I took the elevator to the lobby. Tank took the stairs to the lobby. When she wasn't in the lobby, Tank ran back up to room 205. He called my cell as I was waiting for the elevator to go back up. 

Tank:  Got 'er.

Turns out, she'd gotten dressed, or at least put a shirt on with her pj bottoms, and grabbed her toiletry bag. Then she went to the lobby, thinking it was morning. When no one was eating breakfast, she went back up to room 205. Tank found her staring at the door to 205, head tilted to one side. He escorted her up to our new room and eventually everyone fell asleep, compliments of blasting AC. 

We made it home late afternoon, and we shared the story of confused Kay several times that weekend. 

*****

Ever stayed in a room with broken heat or air? We had no AC in August in Boston the year we visited before dropping Lad off at college in New York. We suffered through. Ever have a kid become confused and wander a hotel half asleep? Ever walk 3.5 miles outside of a hotel room to cool your jets?  Do you agree about where to stop on a long drive, or how many rooms to secure? Does your spouse critique your driving with nonverbal cues? Tell me I'm not alone.

Is it BACK? I hope not. Wanting answers and walking with the CBWC

This was not what I planned to post, but it's current and mind blowing. The post about the call from my brother ended up to be a scary thing that was soon resolved - for those of you who were maybe losing sleep. More later. Also, I apologize for being so behind on responding to comments and a bit behind on blog commenting. I've been struggling with this damn gut thing and working on a project that I'm bound and determined to complete. 

*****

Something's up with my gut. Nothing new. Same old, same old. Although I've asked begged the doctors to address the issue vs manage my symptoms, getting to the root of it seems impossible. Why- in the year 2026?

I suspect that my doctor might soon be celebrating like her 23rd birthday, so . . . I'm not confident that she knows stuff. She's at University of Chicago - outstanding GI dept, so she must . . . test well? - I'm kidding, but c'mon. Can I get someone with a butt load of experience, please?

I've had a few recent nights interrupted by the discomfort in my left side. The awful, metallic taste in my mouth is persistent and since I've recently quit sucking on pennies or other coins, I believe it's a clue about what the trouble is. 

Bottom line: I fear this is SIBO - small intestinal bacterial overgrowth. 

Cliff notes:  I was diagnosed with SIBO in 2023. Twice. First time, did the antibiotic. Relief was temporary- SIBO came back. 

Female Doogie Howser's handling of my issue:  take Miralax twice a day. Take an antacid in the morning. Take a low dose antidepressant (known to dull abdominal pain) before bed in order to sleep. 

But why? 

My theory:  I've got some scar tissue or perhaps narrowing of the intestines (is that a thing?), and until they solve the pipe issue - nothing will change. 

Wednesday morning I woke up at 2:00 am and opted to take my RX antacid hours early. It worked, I fell back asleep. Sometimes instead of feeling discomfort in my left side, I just feel wired. I don't 'feel' the acid. It's a silent pest. 

Wednesday evening, I took my antacid before dinner - bumping up the meds to 2x a day. My doc had offered that as an option a while back, but I declined. Fingers crossed that more stupid meds will at least give me some predictability. 

I broke down and cried on the phone to my friend, Delilah, Monday night. I know that there are worse health issues that people have to deal with. For me, the 'no rhyme or reason' component is tough. Not getting answers is frustrating. I want a doc to remove the stretch of my pipes that gets so exhausted by doing its job. 

A small miracle:  Last week, I googled the doc who diagnosed my SIBO in 2023. She'd left Loyola when I came back a few weeks later for my follow up. Of course, Loyola wouldn't tell me where she went. When I realized the non compete thing had to have expired, my google search found her at Northwestern. 

I got an appointment in late September. I was honestly happy they didn't say Not Accepting New Patients. They put me on a cancellation list, and said I could call in case there were any immediate openings. Hello, speed dial.

I called on Monday. While I was still on the phone someone cancelled. MONDAY, MAY 4TH, AFTER SCHOOL. It's a hike, but Coach can do the daycare pickup. I might make a paper chain to count down the days till I'm reunited with the doc who I trust and who I believe knows stuff. 

In the mean time I started following the low FODMAP diet again. That basically means I'm barely eating anything. 

*****

Rather than post a photo of my enviable inventory of Miralax bottles, below are a few photos of me walking (in weird order). I'm doing my best to get out and walk with so many other bloggers and blog friends. Elisabeth is organizing the CBWC (cool bloggers walking club). Walk/move 10 minutes a day in April. *When the weather is icky, I count racing up and down the stairs carrying the 6 month old twins, or the other tots in my care. 

Am I alone in my support of Miralax? Anyone else walking or moving in April with the other cool bloggers? Anyone a fan of the Doogie Howser show back in the day, or are you too young to get that reference? 

Sunday, 4/12:  I meant to walk earlier
 when it was nice out, and instead left
 when there was a threat of rain. Wait
 till you here what distracted me all
 afternoon. It's a hoot. Anyway, I was
 only drizzled on and I walked
 about 4 miles. Felt great.

Monday 4/13:  The twins weren't here,
so I could fit the 3 littles in the
 quad stroller. It was a beautiful
 day. We (well, me) walked 3.5 miles.

Tuesday 4/14:  I managed
 to load 5 littles
into the quad stroller.
I walked 3 miles. Note the
pretty blooming tree.

This is last week. Sorry my photos are not
 in chronological order. This was my
 first try at fitting 5 in the
 quad - and it worked just fine.

I have a story from this night. April 2nd. After
being in a car for 14 hours, I decided
 to walk around the hotels and
 restaurants before going to bed. 

Curly's college decision: getting there is half the fun

My frozen GF pizza that
I made before we left
 - thinking I could eat it
between flights. Um,
 no. I had to eat it
on the flight, but
 I first apologized to
the man next to me.
 My attempt to keep it
warm meant layers
of newspaper and tin foil. It
 was bigger than a football. 

Making connections in South Carolina:  Curly and I flew to Aiken, SC March 19th to visit Univ South Carolina Aiken (USCA). Our flight to Charlotte left an hour late. Our connection to Columbia was gonna depart 50 min after we landed. 

USCA booked Curly's flight, so we weren't sitting together. Curly:  last row. Me:  middle of plane. After Coach's recent flying ordeal, I asked the flight attendant if they'd make an announcement, requesting people without a connection remain seated while the rest deplaned. He said sure, but then forgot. 

We waited for a gate in Charlotte. I was panicked. I texted Curly:  I'm gonna make my own announcement. Translation:  brace for the embarrassment.  

I'm thoughtful that way. 

I hollered my request. Based on the people dawdling after deplaning, not many felt compelled to help those of us in a time crunch.

Wasn't really warm,
 but yummy.

My text to Curly:  I'M GONNA RUN TO GATE E21. FIND YOUR WAY THERE. HURRY!

Thanks to signage, I knew the walk from B4 to E21 was 18 min. I stuck my roller bag in front of me and ran. I imagine security personnel replaying the  footage of me running through the airport. 

I arrived ay my gate doubled over, gasping. "My daughter's coming. She's a b-ball player. She's fast. Please wait for her." 

The airline staff person:  Well, if she's so fast - how did you beat her? 

Me:  We weren't sitting together. 

I called Curly. 

Curly, panting:  Almost there. 

She rounded the corner at top speed, carrying her roller bag in front of her (she packed light, but still). 

I needed a restroom. The woman scanning our boarding passes gave me 4 min to run to the bathroom, because the airplane's was out of service. Curly was irritated that I'd not gone while I waited for her. 

Hey, I'm a mom - I risked my personal needs to hold the flight.  

The USCA coach picked us up at the airport, which was nice. I dry coughed the short flight and the hour drive to the hotel. I rarely need an inhaler, and was relieved to find one in my roller bag when we got to our room. Phew. 

Curly's fav building with a
courtyard in the middle of it,
and tables for studying. 

Smooth sailing:  The rest of the visit went great. We liked campus. The head of the nursing school toured us through the dept. Very impressive. B-ball payers live in the best apartment-style dorm. The young female coach, who started there in April '25 and has coached elsewhere, suggested that Curly eat lunch with the team, while I eat with the coaching staff. 

Me:  YES!

It was ideal for Curly to hang with the team. She asked the girls about the players who'd jumped in the portal (transferred) - a few had bad attitudes, and one was hoping to go D1. That clarity helped. 

Bonus:  We learned that a girl from the Chicago 'burbs has committed to USCA for volleyball. She and Curly have a mutual friend, Kat, from Curly's high school volleyball team. Kat is excited for them to meet, believing they'll hit it off. Curly likes the idea of having a college friend near home, which'll be rare if her school is so far. Plus, it'll be fun to meet someone in advance who plays a different sport. 

The coach sat us down in a conference room, showed us a power point, and said:  I want you on our team, Curly. I think you'd be a great fit. I'm offering you a full ride. 

I maintained my composure, but back in our room, where the coach dropped us before dinner - I was squeezing my kid FULL RIDE? WOW! 

Where all the fun happens.

Curly:  I think I still pay room and board. 

Me:  Huh? Ya think?

When we got picked up for dinner, Curly texted me from the front seat:  Ask her.

Me:  So, can you clarify, does the offer include room and board? What will we be responsible for?

USCA coach:  Everything's included. You pay for your books. 

Curly and I were both like, Wow, that's great. We enjoyed dinner with the coaches. One asked about life in a big family. I'd listened to defense and offense talk all day, now we were speaking my language. 

I described Lad's exotic red frog that hopped out from under the fridge a few years ago - the one I mistook as a dropped raspberry, till it hopped. Curly shared a few tales about playing sports with older brothers who played legit defense on her - no advantages for the cute little sister. Favorite sport movies was another fun discussion. 

USCA coach:  The other players really like you. They're hoping you accept the offer. Think about it and let me know after spring break, please.

She requested that Curly not share the offer on social media until she accepted it. When athletes post their offers, other coaches catch wind and reach out. It's an interesting system. Curly didn't post it, and I respect the coach's angle and how she handled it.  

Ah, sweet home, Chicago. 

St. Leo, the school near Tampa that gave Curly an offer in January, was no longer in the running. Curly notified that coach. I later learned that the St. Leo player that Curly connected with the most had decided to transfer. She and Curly had followed one another, so Curly knew. 

* can we pause for a moment and recognize that in a time that preceded this one, FOLLOWING SOMEONE meant we walked behind them.  

Being close to home was the only box USCA didn't check. But I pointed out that her 4 older working sibs can fly down for a game. The town of Aiken is really cute. It's known for horse racing. Derby horses winter there, so it'll be a great place to visit. And, WARM WEATHER. Plus, the distance will suck more for us than for her. She won't be coming home that often. We need to plan flights in advance (not my strong suit), hoping she can fly direct from O'Hare to Augusta, GA and avoid the connection nightmare. 

BOTTOM LINE:  On Good Friday she called USCA coach and accepted the offer. This has been a long, exhausting process (lots I never blogged about). I think she's gonna be happy there. I'm off on Fridays, so I'll be ready to escape the Midwest weather to fly down and watch a game. 

After we landed in Chicago, I saw a text from my brother, "Can I call you?" Uh oh. I knew that wasn't gonna be good news. More later . . . 

*****

When was the last time you ran thru an airport to catch a flight? Have you been here long enough to remember the tiny frog hopping out from under the fridge incident? Have you ever heard of Aiken? Been there?