The Great (OK, not so great) Furniture Giveaway

In the summer, Mini got invited by my dad to go to lunch. This means she picked him up and drove him to Culver's - his favorite. I worried he'd hassle her about her lack of a job. I'd instructed him to lay off, to not badger her, or put pressure on her. 

I surivived being unemployed after graduation in 1993 while living with my parents  and Dad's 'ways', but I wouldn't want to subject my kid to that nonsense. Coach and I were much more of the 'relax, you'll find something' mindset. And she did. 

After lunch, I asked Mini what Da's agenda was. "Um, nothing really." Hmm. I pushed her a bit more, asking if he grilled her about networking, etc. Nope.

Finally, she caved:  It's the same conversation he had with me last summer. He wants me to tell him what furniture I want from their house, like after they pass away, or if they move to assisted living at some point. 

Me:  Oh. (I blinked, aware that none of her 7 siblings had been invited to do the same) So what'd you say?

Mini:  I never answered him last summer. I kept brushing him off, because this makes me uncomfortable. Today, I just asked him what was already taken, and he told me their bedroom set, the antique dining room set, the couch, the kitchen table. I told him I'd take Nana's antique desk and the chair of great grandma's that Nana had re-upholstered. I'm gonna live in an apartment when I move out. I have  no idea how much space I'll have. 

A week later, he called Mini:  I forgot, I've got some rocking chairs in the basement. Do you want those?

Mini:  I was about to say no, and then I told him I'd take them. I figure I could give them to my siblings. 

antique shoes my mom has collected

The reality:  my parents have 24 grandkids (my dad often forgets about Kay and Rae and will tell people he has 22 grandkids. He's 86 and while he has been very supportive of our adoption, he forgets to add our 2 adopted girls. I tease him about it, but I find that understanable. He's old). 

Age-wise, Mini, at 22, is probably right around the middle of the pack. The oldest grandkid is 32 and the youngest is Kay at 14. (the youngest biological grandkid is 16 - a few months older than Rae, so our two didn't exactly mess with the age spread). 

dresser in one of the bedrooms

Are you scrathing your head? Let me explain. My dad is promising his high end furniture to his favorite grandchildren in a willy-nilly style that makes me twitch. There is no:  'draw a number from a hat, oldest to youngest, or who is in the most need' system. Nope. His favorites tend to be who he think is the most intelligent. He likes Notre Dame. Mini went to ND. 

IMO his process is gross. Beyond gross. It's hurtful. This system is one that I'm familiar with. It's a system I grew up in, and it sucks. I'm no dummy, but a few of my siblings were off the charts smarty-pants, and I didn't measure up. 

one of the headboards in
 one of the guest rooms

Do I have lots of redeeming qualities? Sure. Did that matter when I was a kid? Not really. In hindsight, I'm grateful because my upbringing shaped who I am. I've chosen to raise our kids with a heavy focus on their individual strengths. 

Da is, thank goodness, leaving all the grandkids the same generous financial sum in his will. My parents collect antiques, but I don't think the grandkids will be interested in the antique bedrooms sets, curio cabinets, tables, butter churners, church pew, tiny ancient shoes, etc. (the pics are not things that are being selected)

Regardless, the great and secret furniture giveway makes my blood boil. (when I mentioned it, Dad said I wasn't supposed to know about it). I think being raised with inequity makes one a warrior for justice (a term I've learned from my friend Colleen).

*****

Were you raised in an equitable environment? Do you know anyone who collects antiques? Off topic, but did you watch the ND game Saturdday night? Are you hoping Dad has 7 rockers to give to Mini, so all of her sibs get something?

Health insurance: a hot topic and a headache

After participating in NaBloPoMo for the last 3 (?) years, I'm skipping it (aside from reading/commenting when I can on other blogs). Seeing as I've recently scaled back to blogging once a week, I know that posting daily is not a challenge I can tackle while focused on life's other 'stuff'. I look forward to reading as many posts as I can, and checking out some new-to-me blogs. Unsure what NaBloPoMo is? Here's a link. 

rooftop bar. Such a cool place.
See the giant fire pit in the center?

Coach and I traveled to Norfolk, VA last weekend. It was a relaxing getaway . . . for me. He had to teach a PT continuing ed class, but we arrived early enough Friday and left late enough Sunday (class ran all day Sat. and ended noonish Sunday) to enjoy time alone. 

Friday night we visited a rooftop bar. When we scooted past tables of people to check out the view, I overheard a person: "Wait, does the insurance company have a doctor on staff? Like how can they decide that?" 

I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but I wanted to pull up a chair and join the chat. I'm more convinced than ever that this is a hot topic, so here's a few of my experiences. 

Denied:  Rae's EMDR claims:  Remember in the winter - Rae started doing EMDR therapy? We'd chosen the provider because she was in network with Blue Cross Blue Shield. All claims were denied. We thought we had it figured out. Then the provider took a leave of absense for several months. 

In June she started again, more denials. I called Coach's company. I called BCBS often and was asigned a person. 

Finally, I got through to someone else. She figured out that the provider had changed offices, but hadn't updated her address. She needed to get her credentials in order. 

I almost wept. I told the woman I'd lost track of the hours I'd spent. She sighed, and admitted "I can see it on my screen. You've called here a ton." 

In good news, Rae is back doing sessions. We paid out of pocket in the summer, so she could continue. That money is now being applied to the copays - but in August the provider halted treatment until all claims were paid. 

All along it was the provider who'd dropped the ball. I think she should've given us a few free sessions. Totally aggravating. 

90 day supply:  I'm out of one of my 'OG' meds. Last month, I got a letter from BCBS telling me that I needed to mail order a 90 day supply. I called BCBS to ask them how, where? We got off topic, because my doc had called in a replacement 'Preferred' med. BCBS refused to pay for Preferred.

I never got the info about how or where to order the 90 day supply of OG. In the confusion over 'Why can't I get Preferred - since my doc wants me to take it?' discussion, the doc re-ordered OG (she'd cancelled it when she ordered Preferred  soon-to-be-denied med) and since I was able to get OG filled for 30 days at my pharmacy, the 90 day supply mail order thing fell off my radar. 

Now I'm out of OG and the Preferred med still hasn't been approved for me. 

Denying the new suggested med:  So, without getting too graphic, because some things are best not discussed in polite company . . . the OR and the Preferred are for my IBS. The side effects are, er, unpleasant. I believe Preferred comes in different stregnths, so the doc can manage side effects by putting me on a lower dose, if need be.

At the end of the day, if my doc says I WANT HER TO TAKE PREFERRED. Then I feel pretty strongly that BCBS shouldn't be saying SHE NEEDS TO TAKE THREE OTHER OPTIONS FIRST, then names the other options.

Hey, BCBS - you're not the doc. Do the insuring bit and shut it. 

Coach's perspective:  Coach shared an example with me. As a PT, he says sometimes insurance will say WE WON'T TRY THAT UNTIL THE PATIENT FIRST TRIES A CORTIZONE SHOT. This gets Coach fired up, because CORTIZONE CAN DAMAGE HEALTHY TISSUE. 

 APPEALS & REHAB:  My dad came home from rehab Friday, where he's been since he broke his hip. A few weeks ago, insurance tried to send him home. We appealed won an additional week. This past week, same scenario, except our appeal was denied. He will still get PT at his house, but he was making great progress there. We have round the clock caregivers, but when I was at his house Friday, he was already insisting that he get to go into his study. 

I finally took a video of his piles. He wanted a specific stamp collection book. Yes, he's 86, why do you ask? He identified it in the video and I brought it to him. So much easier. I fear that he thinks he can do too much, or that he'll order his caregivers to let him do too much. 

*****

I feel like insurance dictating how many other meds a patient tries first is a new thing? Am I wrong? Anyone else experiencing this nonsense? Have you overheard anything interesting at the next table at a restaurant lately?

tailgating: the one thing she said she'd do & the wedding wardrobe woops reveal

My tailgate terms: 

Me:  In good conscious I cannot be involved in a tailgate that doesn't include my pumpkin bread, my chocolate chip cookies, and my 7 layer taco dip. 

Mini:  If you insist. 

Who remembers when I brought my 7 layer dip in my checked bag for the ND game in NJ? Certainly, I could manage to whip up the dip for a nearby tailgate.

I wondered if maybe I could just bring the coolers loaded with their preferred drinks from our house vs stopping at their place. My preference was to hop out of bed the minute I woke up. I hoped to avoid sitting outside their house if they were asleep, with me having no access to the coolers. 

Mini:  Mom, no. We're gonna shop for our own stuff. I'll sleep with my phone next to my face with the ringer on. You can wake me up. 

GUESS WHAT HAPPENED?  

Maybe it was part excitement, like my brain mapping out the day, etc, but I was awake stupid early. Eventually I gave up on sleep, got ready, loaded the car, and left my house before 7 am. At the last minute I grabbed the wagon. Add in a time change and a 1 hr 45 minute drive. I was gonna arrive at 9:30 am. 

I texted Mini:  10 minutes away. (follow up text)  Please resond so I know you're awake.

I called 8 times. Nothing.

At the house, the door was unlocked. I walked in, heard music, laughing, talking. Spotting my coolers by the front door, I was releived. I'll just grab . . . IT WAS EMPTY. 

Me:  Good morning, girls!

My kid walks out of a bedroom, wearing the clothes she went to the bars in, clothes she clearly slept in, saying:  OH, WHERE'S MY PHONE. SORRY MOM. (she admitted to doing the one thing she said she'd not do , ignore her phone and she apologized).

One girl was out buying toilet paper, proof that adulting is hard. Half of the alcohol was in that girl's car. Naturally. Ice had not been purchased. We loaded the other half of the alcohol in my car. Their inventory left me wondering:  anything on the shelves for the other drinkers shoppers.

The mounted police urging us to wrap things
up once the game started. We were only
standing around chatting. Other taillates
 were still really underway, and yet they got
 a little aggressive with us,
 which was perplexing.

 

I pulled the wagon out of my minivan, telling them they could load the rest of the booze into the wagon when they walked over. They suggested I go to Burger King to buy ice through drive thru. I bought 3 bags, but then decided to run into the grocery store next door to buy 2 styrofoam coolers. Mini should've brought more than 2 of our coolers. 

I headed into the lot after 10 am. There were no open spots in sight. When cars arrive late, early birds have to move their tents and chairs and coolers and it's hard to pull into a remaining spot between cars. While the girls didn't care about getting a front and center spot, I dislike trying to squeeze in. 

Lunchmeat Saves the Day: 

Lunchmeat was wearing a shirt
similar to this, made me chuckle.

I'd texted Lunchmeat the day before. He's the guy (friend of a friend - graduated same year as me. I didn't know him back then. His last name rhymes with baloney, thus Lunchmeat). He's let us stay in his house for free umpteen times. Graduation weekend we had his place to ourselves, saving us like $2k. I sent him a giftcard to say thanks. 

Anyway, he comes in town and tailgates for all the home games. I assumed that I'd be wandering around to give Mini and friends space, and I planned to hang at his tailgate. He'd told me that he'd tailgate between pole 33 and 34 in the Stadium Lot. As I pulled inot the lot, I glanced around, trying to get my bearings. "Hmm, I think this is around where Lunchmeat tailgates." I spotted the two flags he hoists above his car. 

I rolled down my window, calling to him, "Lunchmeat, this is why I prefer to arrive at 4 am."

He waved, and then said magical words:  Do you need a spot? We've got a spot open between us.

He and his buddy were probably hoping no one would ever need that spot, but if push came to shove the parking attendants would make them give it to random people and he said he'd rather have someone he knows. I said THAT'D BE AMAZING.

He and his buddies moved all the things, then waved me in. I could NOT get the minivan to make the angle. Finally, his one gruff pal walks up to my window, and hollers GET OUT! He parked my car like it was his job. They helped me set up my tables, offered their food and drink to me and all of Mini's friends.

Fun times:  

Never gets old.

The girls showed up an hour and a half later, lugging my wagon. They were very appreciative. Current seniors, hearing they were in town, gathered, seemingly asking how life was treating them in the 'real world'. 

Overall, it was so much fun. I got to chat with the girls, Lunchmeat and our mutual friend, who introduced us - she was there with most of her family. Another girls' parents showed up too. The weather was beautiful. Not too hot. 

After everyone left, I walked around the lake and all around campus before driving home. Then I stopped by the friend's house, and deposited the mountain of alcohol that was leftover. 

******

In the interest of not leaving you hanging:  

the wedding wardrobre mishap . . .

This was not black tie, thank goodness.
 "My pants are at the dry cleaners."

The morning of the wedding, Tank told me he was putting his clothes for the wedding in the washer. I translated this to mean his shirt, mabye his socks. We planned to leave at 12:30. Around 10, I switched his stuff into the dryer. He was checking work emails. Imagine my SHOCK when I discovered he'd washed his suit pants. You I can dress them up, but I cannot follow their every damn move with the fancy pants I've advised them to buy. He wore a pair of Coach's khaki pants with his black suit jacket, and dropped his pants off at the dry cleaners. He lives in the city, and I forgot this week to pick up his dry cleaning. I'm anxoius to see if they are fine. 

Tank:  I thought only the suit jacket couldn't go in the wash. 

Me:  It's the same fabric!!!! 

***

Do you think Tank's suit pants will be fine - they went through the wash, but not the dryer. That suit was not cheap. Did anyone see that 'Mini-oops' coming? Not paying attention to her phone? Is it just me, or is everyone experiencing oddly warm weather for fall. It's almost Halloween and I'm still taking my little charges to the park. All hail GW for his continued service.

who's a sucker for a tailgate? Plus updates on wedding, Dad, & setbacks

The plan:  Before graduation, Mini and 16 friends agreed to meet at the home  ND game, Oct. 10th. One of her besties, a law student at ND now, lives in a house a half mile from campus that her folks bought. They rent the house out for home games, and Bestie vacates. She drove to our house and stayed with Mini while we were in Omaha. Her folks didn't rent the house out Oct. 10th, so the girls could stay there. Very generous of them. 

The convo:  A few girls ended up not being able to come in town. Mini was  bummed. Do you know some of their jobs won't let them leave town for the weekend? What even? (says the woman who did NOT have a high power job after college- or ever). Early that week, I asked Mini whether or not any of the families planned to tailgate, like old times. 

Mini:  Nobody's folks are going. We're gonna pay a service to set up our tailgate.

Me:  Oh, wow. (the phrase 'fine for some' spoken in the voice of the leprechaun in the Lucky Charms cereal commercials popped into my head. My Irish friends used this expression during my year abroad. I guess if you're gonna split it 17 ways, or even close to that, maybe paying a service is affordable. *shrug*). 

Reg was coming home for fall break. My youngest brother, Mike, invited him to go to the game with his same-age cousin. Initially Reg hesitated, thinking he should caddy and make $$. I told him:  Go! Have fun!

Me to Mini:  Hmm, well the weather looks amazing. Maybe I'll drive in, tailgate, and wait for Reg in case he needs a ride home (it was unlikely that Reg's ride would stay over, but I knew he'd not wanna miss caddying Sunday). 

Mini:  Mom, no parents are attending our tailgate. 

****Fast forward maybe 24 hours****

Mini (Wednesday night):  Mom, are you still thinking of going and hanging out in South Bend and driving Reg home? 

Me:  (blank stare)

Shirt Mini's buddy Charlie wore.
 "So this Irishman walks out of a bar . . .
No really, it could happen." Ha!

Mini:  Uh, it's really expensive to hire a company to set up a tailgate for us. (imagine that) If you'd drive a car in the lot, we'd buy the parking pass and all the food/drink. 

Historically speaking:  Long time readers might recall that 'my version' of tailgating at ND includes staying local the night before, waking up at 4 am, loading all the food into the car, driving to the line to wait for the lot to open at 8:00 am, and then driving in and scoring an amazing spot before jogging back to my accomodations, showering and walking back to lot to set up. 

I cringed at the thought, thinking I'd retired from that craziness duty. 

The Proposal:  Mini quicky assured me that they had no parking spot preference. No pressure to be first in line. I could sleep in my own bed, drive to ND Saturday morning - maybe leave home by 7:30 am, stop by their house, and load our coolers (that Mini would bring empty Friday night) into my car AND then drive into the lot. They'd chill at the house, drink mimosas, and stroll over at their leisure.  

Reasoning:  Cars aren't allowed to remain in the lot overnight. The girls didn't want to get up early and they didn't want to deal with moving the car afterwards. Most of them weren't going into the game, so they hoped to tailgate and then walk to a bar, etc. 

I'm a sucker:  Clearly, because I said yes, but I do love tailgating at ND in nice weather. Had this been a Nov. request? Hard pass. I also love these girls, and I knew I'd bump into tailgating friends. 

Any predications on how this tale wraps up? I'll share the results of my Volunteer tailgating next time.  

******

Speaking of next time - I'm scaling:  one post a week - most weeks. Not because I don't have things to share, but because life is so hectic - I'm strugging to experience and post about All.The.Things And reply to comments.

We (Mini, Tank, Coach, and I) attended Niece's wedding. In good news, Mini felt cousin interactions felt normal. More to come, but any guesses on our major wardrobe malfunction?

I'd planned to prep this last night, but when Tank and Mini visited Dad Sunday afternoon, he told evenings are lonely. Too sad. I visited Dad, arriving before the doors lock at 8. He was pleased to see wedding pics (our folks zoomed in), and chat - realizing it was 'already after 9' when I left.

Unfortunately, Kay broke our trust. AGAIN. We'd felt like we'd made progress lately. I feel incredibly frustrated, defeated, and exhausted. Like we've explained, lose trust in buckets and gain it back in tablespoons.

hecklers gotta heckle, questions gotta be asked - but not always answered, & laughing is the best

WELL, THIS WAS UNEXPECTED 

Friday morning I woke up to a note from Coach:  We're going to the city tonight to see Jerry Seinfeld's stand up show to celebrate our 30th anniversary. 

Remember we'd enjoyed a drink in the dive bar attached to our shady hotel in Chicolthe, OH on our way to drop Curly off at college on our actual anniversary? I'd sort of forgotten that we'd not officially celebrated.  

I always see such curious things
in the city. Across the
street from us
was a guy walking,
holding a walker
with two, large colorful
birds. Parrots, maybe?

Coach's plan included leaving our house at 4:30 to drive into the city for a 7:00 show, so we'd have time for a dink beforehand. He also thought we'd have time to eat a dinner at home that he prepared before leaving at 4:30. 

Well, long story, but my back hurt a ton while sleeping the night before and I was awake more than asleep, or that's how it felt. I ended up sleeping later than usual (after getting up to take Motrin and eating something so I wasn't taking Mortin on an empty stomach), which meant my day off agenda ran late. I'd scored a last minute hair cut appointment at 11:30. I visited my dad afterwards, which means I didn't eat lunch until almost 2:00. After a quick nap, I felt ready to go out on the town, but you know what I was not ready for? Eating dinner before 4:30. 

Instead Coach put my dinner in a thermos and I brought it in the car. Traffic was ridiculous. Maybe because of the 3 day weekend? Who knows. I ate my special dinner out of a thermos about an hour after we were in the car. Without ample time for a drink at a bar downtown, we bought a drink at the venue and strolled around enjoying the beautiful theater. 

THE SHOW WAS HILARIOUS

It looks like this is a Halloween
show featuring a ghost,
but that's Jerry. 

Finding the 'Spot Hero' parking spot that he'd paid for in advance was a bit stressful. Rest assured, Coach and I are doing what we can to behave like elderly people who have never operated a cellular device. 

The surprising thing . . .  during the show audience members hollered random things at Seinfeld. The first one:  YOU'RE A RACIST. Security took that person, and subsequent disrupting folks out. We were in the nosebleed section, and Heckler was front and center. I can only imagine what the person paid for the ticket. 

Jerry was quick with his comebacks.  "They always talk in such a high voice. It's hard to even hear what the issue is." 

This played out about 4-5 more times throughtout the show. It was baffling. One person accused him of supporing genocide. Jerry promised one heckler to find out how much Heckler had paid for his/her ticket, "And I'm gonna send it to Israel." 

Aside from the interruptions, we laughed a lot. 

DON'T ASK  

Here we are before the show. I recently
bought this dress at a thrift store. It's
 a J.Crew dress and I love it. This
 was the first chance I had to wear it.

Coach chuckled on the way home, noting that he found the bit about, "I've learned never to ask my wife questions. She doesn't want to go back. Only forward. Don't ask what she said. Just move forward." 

We'd had a 'moment' that afternooon . . . which, in my defense, was before my nap. He was wheeling the stationary bike into the family room from the living room. I was in the kitchen with the water running in the sink, making my very late lunch, and I'd just requested that Alexa play a song. 

Coach:  What did you say?

Me trying to repeat whatever he'd missed and instead Alexa intervened, saying:  'Playing Love Shack by the B52's' - which, believe it or not, was NOT what I wanted to hear. So, I hesitated to respond to Coach, because I was waiting till he was closer. Plus I was dealing with Alexa, fumbling with directions so she would not play a song that I hate, and further confusing him - thinking I must be speaking to him. 

Coach:  Gosh, I just asked you what  . . . and you can't even . . . 

Me:  I'M . . . UGH . . . 

So, Seinfeld's joke about being wary about asking a wife a question tickled Coach's funny bone. 

NOT EXACTLY UNCHARTERED TERRITORY

At the end of the night, I waited in the world's longest line for the restroom. About 20 min later, an attendant walked over to alert those of us at the end of the linethat they'd cleaned the men's restroom. It was empty. We were welcome to use it. The end of the line group about-faced, and raced to the opposite direction where the men's restroom was located. Honestly, she had me at 'available restroom'. Ya know?

I told the woman behind me, "Back in college I would've just snuck in and not waited for permission, but that was a different day." 

Woman behind me:  Same. 

Believe it or not, that was only a snippet of the wild weekend I had. More later. 

******

Have you ever seen a stand up comic? Have you been to a live performance lately? Is this heckler thing common nowadays? Do you use Spot Hero? Does driving into your city stress you out? Ever behave as if you might qualify you as someone who hasn't ever used a cellular device? 

what I found when decluttering the boy room and the mudroom

I could've used a bulldozer to assist me in clearing a path in the boys' room in August after Reg left for college. To be clear, every time a boy leaves for college or moves out, I instruct them to orgnize the room, take their stuff with them, and get rid of the garbage. Without fail, this request has fallen on deaf ears. 

I promised to share things I found in the room as I plowed through. Since I also just did a deep clean of the mudroom, I'll share some gems I found there too. 

It started with this - remember? Tank bought a piece of the Berlin Wall and our friend stuck this rock in his bag while he was in Ireland after writing 'Rock of Cashel' on it. Rock of Cashel is a famous castle in Ireland.

Tank's fraternity gave him this award freshman year of college:  'Mix in a Water'. He handed it to me when I arrived to move him out and he hadn't packed a thing. I told him, "This is not something you share with your mom."

One of my fav photos of Tank with my Dad - coloring Easter eggs.

I was surprised at how many coats I unearthed. Raincoat, fleece, heavy fall coat that I once replaced the zipper on.

This is Tank's bed. I think Reg had castoff clothes and books on it. I spent time organizing the crap on top of the bed - stuffing things that might belong to someone in the lockers on either side of the bed.

The inside of Tank's locker. There are still a set of walkie talkies in here. And the bottom shelf - broken bobble heads and maybe trophies. I closed the door on this mess. Not gonna bother.

The sheer nunber of pairs of sweat socks with a match is staggering. This is Reg territory. His brothers beg him not to wear high sweat socks with every kind of shoes. 

I believe this belongs to a lazer tag set that I've not seen in over a decade.

Seriously? Instructional soccer participation plaque from 2013.

This is (an upside down) Michigan State flag. I found not one, but two of them in the mudroom. Both Reg and Curly applied there, because it was an Evan's Scholarship school - in case they got the scholarship and needed options. None of us are Spartan fans. I believe their acceptance letter arrived wrapped in a flag. Cute marketing angle, but we have  no need for it. 

I think this was a mouse, a charger, and a can opener. The number of chargers I found - computer and phone . . . lost count, but it was handy that I'd left them all on Reg's bed, so when he asked me to bring him a specific charger, I found it.

I found a gift bag in Reg's mudroom locker. In it
was a cap and gown gift card holder with an unused Amazon gift card. 

These shoes - Reg and Tank's - were all taking up serious real estate.
 I sent them pictures and almost all were tossed. Except the pair of boots.

Reg and Curly went to a b-ball thing over the summer with my brother. They met Dwayne Wade. It was called 'Everyone Watches Women's Sports.' Curly texted me back: "toss the hat, but keep the bag." Yes, there were jokes at the dinner table that night when Reg and Curly came home, such as: 'Does anyone watch women's sports?' 

I've bought Command hooks without realizing there was inventory in the boys' room.

Framed photo on Ed's bed. This is one of my fav photos of Ed and his buddies from grade school. I took it in our yard. It captures their personalities so well. The guy in the orange, predictably took the fun football game way too seriously. Ed with the brown sleeves and his buddy in the Nike shirt are laughing, on brand.

Lots of books - most required high school reading, but also a lot of yearbooks. Why on earth is there still a snare drum on the very top of the book case? Lad's 28. It's  his. 

Found this 'hat'? in the mudroom. I've never seen it before. Reg's - best guess. 

Mulitple baseball rosaries inside Reg's locker in his bedroom. He attended a Catholic baseball camp a few years when he was little.

Another can opener. Probably because Reg lived in an apartment during his gap year before college.

These goggles have been floating around our mudroom for years. I believe Mini took them from high school. She wears them sometimes when I cut onions.

We found a rolled up lifesize outline of Curly from her kindergarten b-day, signed by all of her classmates. It was on top of the mudroom cabinets. (now it's in the trash).

Not one, but two high school Greek Mythology books. The kids didn't check to see if we had it before buying it again. 


This is a stock photo, because I think Mini's disappeared. Before she left for college, I suggested Mini buy a small bucket - to soak, er, clothes - particularly stained unmentionables. She came home from Target with a collapsible bucket. Made sense given her dorm room had limited space. 
I hadn't factored in that Mini had not once soaked her own items, and the collapsible bucket lived in Mini's room for four years untouched. She goes overboard when mentioning how pointless this purchase was.

The mudroom is much improved. Aside from Mini's locker. She had a work project due this week, so she passed on emptying her locker. Shock.No before photo, but the floor wasn't visible. Use your imagination. 
The boy room is better. Reg will be back next for fall break, and I have some piles I'm gonna make him go through.
*****
What have you found lurking in a closet or a mudroom that surprised you? Are you team collapsible bucket?

holding down the fort: an adventure in chatting with everyone, nearly missed movies, & an 80's sound track

Coach taught a class in Oklahoma City over the weekend. I held down the fort. 

On Friday, I visited my dad. We video chatted Curly after his PT session. It was a beautiful 65 degree day, so we sat on the patio of the rehab place - him in the shade, me not in the shade. Dad had a million questions for Curly. She was doing her hair, because she'd just gotten out of the shower.

Dad:  why are you pulling on your hair?

Curly:  I'm putting gel in it?

Dad:  What?

Curly and me in unison:  Gel. Like hair gel.

Curly:  You probably used a lot of hair gel back when you had hair. 

Rae got invited with a group to a friend's house Saturday night. Friend lives a mere 42 minutes away. None of the other invited kids live anywhere near us. Eek. (a pitfall of going to a private school). This after Rae had a volleyball tournament that was 3o minutes away - opposite direction from Friend's house. I thought about saying No, but decided that Kay and I would go to the movies at a theater nearby Friend's. 

When I told Rae she could go to Friend's while Kay and I did something in the area, 

Rae:  Can you tell me what I'm missing, like what are you and Kay doing?

My take away from that:  Rae might value spending time with me over hanging with friends. It's a sort of punch in the arm, right?

Anyway, Rae opted to hang with her crew, and Kay and I went to see Heart of the Beast with Brad Pitt. It was rated PG-13 and not for sex (which works), plus the 6:25 showtime seemed doable. 

The girls and I went to 4:30 mass. I'd not done the driving math, and when I paused between prayers to do said math, I wondered if maybe we should leave after communion, but we'd arrived 5 minutes late after I sped all the way from the volleyball tournament and I always sit near the front (late or not), because I cannot receive the host - only the wine and sometimes they run out of wine, and I don't like to run the risk of those who take the wine backwashing the host into the wine goblet . . . so we stayed until the end of mass. 

We ran into everyone and their brother, no - what I mean is, we ran into MY brother, Mike, who'd just visited my mom and didn't have time to get to mass near his home. Then we ran into Ray and Michael, the father with his son, who has a cognitive disability. (I've shared how Reg is buddies with Michael - they have the same birthday and Reg takes him the track to prep him for Special Olympics, and Reg replies to his Happy Hump Day texts without fail). We've not been in town for a several weekends, so we've not stopped to chat with them in ages. We were getting in our car and a couple who help out at the youth ministry group appeared, ready and willing to chat about how Kay's school day takes place in the empty school building at the same parish where their son, a recenly ordained priest, works.  

Following our social time after mass, we got home and I sprung the 'HERE'S THE PLAN' on the girls - which included Rae taking a quick shower, and them grabbing dinner from the crockpot and hopping in the car. I loaded my gf dinner in a thermos to eat at the theater. GPS had us arriving at Friend's house at 6:35. The movie was 5 minutes away. I banked on 20 minutes of preveiws. 

Who guessed that I don't go to the theater often?

Driving 27 miles away to hang out for the night is far. At one point, we drove over a hill and looked out on a large prairie, and I told the girls I thought we might be in Wyoming. I played 80's hits on spotify and sang along, daring them to even think about touching the skip button. 

After we dropped Rae off, things started to go sideways. My GPS refused to show the driving directions. I had to hold my phone and stare at the blue lighthouse like dot - the one it shows when you're walking and you have to spin around to see which way to go. Am I alone here? I assumed the theater was at the mall that we'd just driven past, so it wasn't all that challenging to find, but functioning GPS has me spoiled. 

Me:  Hey, there's a Von Maur here. Good to know that living in the boonies doesn't mean they don't have access to good shopping

We pulled around the Von Maur building, and there was the theater . . .  Boarded up. Parking lot totaly empty. WTF?!

Kay:  Maybe it's around back.

I took this pic after the movie. When we saw this boarded up side - it was still sunny out.

Me:  It's NOT around back - see, it's boarded up (she says as she continues to drive around back).

There we discovered a packed lot and a whole new theater. And what is wrong with the OG building? So wasteful. Totally weird. We ran inside. The kiosk wouldn't sell us tickets to the 6:25 show, so the ticket guy told us to talk to the consession people. We got our tickets. 

Me:  Do you think the previews are still playing?

Teen employee:  No, it's been playing for like 10 min. (Bubble burster).

We raced to theater 16. Kay insisted I was going to the wrong theater, but I was right. The one she was pointing at was the same movie, playing at a different time. Who's the rookie now, eh?

We sat in our seats in the front row (not the upfront front where you get whiplash). I googled what we missed and had her read it, but honestly there's very little dialogue in the whole production. Safe to say, we didn't miss much. The movie was intense at times, but not much of a movie - unless you're into watching a man and his dog fight off wolves and a bear and deal with injuries, etc. I surprised Kay and pulled one of my cookies from the freezer out of my purse as a treat. 

Afterward, we killed an hour in Von Maur, then went to get Rae. I told funny stories on the way home, and all in all it felt like they had a fun time. Kay thanked me for spending the evening with her. 

Sunday included some deep house cleaning, as I wanted to make myself feel accomplished since I didn't get to go to Omaha with Tank and Reg for parents' weekend. Reg said one of his friend's moms is super energetic and chatty and she wants to meet me. "She's just like you." I take that as a compliment. Since this mom is from Omaha, I feel like I won't have to wait till next parents' weekend to meet her. Maybe we can visit for a b-ball game. 

Kay was helpful with the deep cleaning, but dished out quite a bit of attitude. Just so we're clear that it wasn't all movies and cookies and 80's songs. I remained calm (which isn't always my knee jerk response), but pointed out that she was welcome to toss her attitude out the window. Me thinks she likes to be helpful, but only if it's her idea/her approach and not if it includes doing things to specifications, like reorganizing bins of hats and gloves and sunscreen in the mudroom so that they fit in the overhead cabinet vs sticking them in hard to reach spaces above the cabinets while in disarray. She insited they wouldn't fit in the cabinets. I knew they would. One guess who was right. 

Delish- I added
veggies to the sheet pan.

In other news, I tried a new recipe (chili honey chicken and sweet potatoes) Friday night (yes, we ate at 7:30, why is that relevant?) that Suzanne shared on her blog. It was a big hit. Mini and I played Code Names with the girls after dinner, and Mini only called one of her sisters an idiot once, but everyone laughed - well, Mini didn't but I'm not counting her. 

My dryer is broken, but GW got fixed AGAIN. I've not even shared that she wouldn't start - sat in the garage for weeks, but Coach got it to start Thursday evening and we drove it to the shop. Just a battery. My baby is home! Nevermind that I bloodied and bruised myself loading several of the carseats into the minivan last week, so I could take four littles to the library on a rainy day. *sigh*

Also, Sunday night Mini and I stumbled on a show 'Rooster' with Steve Carrell. Love it. 

*****

What's new in your world? See a good movie? Start a new show? Have you ever been so late to a movie that you missed the first ten minutes? New dinners? Is 80's music your jam while you drive? Would you drive 27 miles one way for your kid to hang with friends? Have you organized a mud room or other space recently?