Kissing 2012 Goodbye... Na Na Na Na... Na Na Na Na...

So I'm making it a point to finish off 2012 on "The Blog".  I'll delve a bit into WHY it's been so difficult to make this new start on Year 2 so difficult at the end of today's post.  I'm sure I'll forget many things that happened over the course of the year - but I'm going to take a stab at reviewing our year.

January 2012.  That's easy.  I got a new job.  I started on January 3, 2012.  The month was a blur because learning live TV, the terminology, and the many facets I was in charge of on a daily basis made me dizzy.  I love being busy, but this was silly.  ANNNND, I usually catch on super quick, to the point where I shoo people away saying "I got it.  I got it." and then proceed to make the position organized, usually too organized - as in... could work myself out of a job kind of organized.  But not here.  Not this place.  It took me a good 4 months to get this to semi-organized and 8 months to get to "much better organized" and just this month (which would be 12 months) I got it to "super fucking organized."   This is ALL I can remember from January.  

February 2012.  I think the only thing that happened in 28 days of February was the Rubber Chicken contest where one Wack was one of the boy cheerleaders for the spirit contest.  Something might have happened on Valentines Day, but since The Dad and I don't really celebrate holidays so much - I highly doubt I'm missing anything here.  Oh wait.  FAFSA.  TIMES 3.  Need I say more.  February 2012 - *POOF*

March 2012.  On March 2, The Dad and I celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary.  The following night, Saturday, March 3 - The Dad and I extended our anniversary out in Cheney to watch the EWU Men's Basketball team in the Big Sky Tournament Quarterfinals... I remember this because in my cell phone, I sent a text to my pal, Pat, to see if he was going or was there as I scanned the corners of the arena looking for him.  He responded that he was home watching the GU womens' game.  That would be my last communication with my friend Pat, as he then entered the hospital, knowing himself, but not sharing with others, that he knew this was the last time he would be a guest there.  My friend Pat died on March 9th as I sat at my desk and across my phone came a text from Robin that said only this:  "He's gone."  2012, coupled with only months before - September 2011... were turning into the perfect shitstorm called "Fuck you world.  W. T. F.?"  His memorial service at his beloved high school was set for a time we would be travelling and as I look back now - it's probably good I didn't go.  I mean... if I'm ever going to let that foul mouthed pipsqueak see me cry it was NOT going to be at John R. Rogers High School.  I wore yellow... that was bad enough!  On a happier note and probably not by coincidence - on March 15th, Wack drove home DURING school to check the mail - his UW acceptance letter was in the box... and yes... the school colors are purple and gold.  Can you say k-k-k-karma!?!?  <nod to above.  Okay.  You win.  THIS one.>

April 2012.  We started the month off in Cabo San Lucas.  Year 2 visiting there.  After this visit I told The Dad, without reservation... that we should move there.  I was adamant.  BUT... not until after Wack started college.  I needed to be near to him when he left - at least for the first year.  But shortly after our arrival back in The Can, his boss finalized his longtime efforts, work, desire and named him the Vice President of IT at Family Home Care.  No more moving to Mexico.  Drat.  Ryan celebrated his 20th birthday and we took in a night of Moms Weekend down in Pullman.  We weren't able to take in the Kelly Clarkson concert - but did get to have lunch with Suze, Lois and co before heading home and trying to get organized to head back to work.  April was the month I gave notice for the first time at the new job.  Why?  Because I was being utilized not as the position was posted, written up, advertised... but instead, to simply write shit down that sat there for days... and days... and days.  I had a pow wow with my boss and we seemed to get somewhere, so I met the next day, week... month, with a renewed sense of energy, errrrr sort of.  But the responsible thing I told myself, was to give this a chance.  The job needed to be done the way the other assistant does the job.  I'm more than a warm body... let's make this efficient, good and oh... by the way - if you shoo your hand at me again when I'm working late for you... well, you can watch me walk out the door.

May 2012.  Okay.  So so so so busy at work and still trying to plan a final high school graduation party.  Order the announcements... details details details!  Pay UW this deposit.  Pay UW that deposit.  Make sure all sorts of scores were sent from the various reporting agencies to UW.  Wack was being recruited by several fraternities so we took a road trip and while The Dad and I stayed at a friends place very near to the campus, Wack stayed with some boys we know at the FIJI house.  We had dinner with Uncles Rich & Phill at the Washington Athletic Club, walked around downtown Seattle and imagined life in Seattle for Wack and trips over there - just us with no fuss of games to be at, groups to connect with to carpool... and so on.  Wack met with a few of the other houses that were recruiting him (FIJI's not being one of them) but then spent the night playing basketball, and WHO KNOWS what else with the Phi Gamma Delta (FIJI) boys.  We picked him up the next morning, stopped for a visit to the Nike outlets and home again, home again...

June 2012.  Zach Attack graduates from Joel E. Ferris High School.  All five family members were now grads of the Scarlet & Silver.  The party thrown, his new job starts at Hangman Valley Golf Course with his big brother Ry... and they're off to the races!  For the first time in a few years all three boys will be participants - AGAIN - in Spokane's own, very fine, very large - WORLDS LARGEST 3-on-3 street basketball tournament, Hoopfest.  #7 was out on the first day (first time in history), Zach and Ry both endured very physical games late into the day on Sunday but no one came home as champs this year.  There was also... The Dad and I took part in "The Dirty Dash" which... we talked up and down the halls at work, home, the aisles in the store, yelled it from our cars.  Best "event" ever.  Loved it.  We have every expectation that every person we know... will do it on July 13, 2013.  (Registration begins on 1/2/13, in case you were wondering). 

July 2012.  The Dad and I were honored to be invited to the wedding of our friends daughter.  It was a classy, small affair at The Davenport Hotel and as the reception started to take off with these young kids dancing to "Dancing Queen" and such...  the boys (Greg and Jeff) disappeared to use the restroom.  On their way back they found that there were a few other receptions... much much larger receptions going on in much much bigger ballrooms.  Receptions with chocolate fountains and no one that knew who we all were.  We ate and conversed with several people.  People we didn't know, people we did... and officially crashed a wedding.  Pretty sure The Dad found himself a yamaka to wear too.  Yes.  Seriously.  Lord, hear my prayer.  In mere days after such fun with friends, did The Dad walk into work, sit down for a meeting with the owner of FHC and the other 6 team leaders - to find out that the owner sold the company and four of them were losing their jobs to the new company.  Though it wasn't so cut and dry.  Lots of wishy washy and refusal to provide them with details as panic was setting in.  July was ending... not. great.

August 2012.  Was crap.  Period.  The only highlight was the arrival of "Black Jeff" (this is so... politically incorrect) at the property in Demingham.  "Black Jeff" was a calf that was given to Rob (Sarah & Katies' dad).  Big Jeff was there the day "Black Jeff" arrived and to this day, though I've heard the story... I'm not sure how the cow got the name Jeff.  I just know that everyone felt there was a need to be able to tell MY Jeff and the cow, both now named Jeff... apart.  The addition of "black" in front of "Jeff" for the cow was what they came up with.  This provided laughter when laughter was needed.  (Black Jeff is thankfully, still with us.)

September 2012.  Officially, The Dad was no longer working.  So he took to crafts and spending severance money on much needed items for upcoming tailgates for #7's final season of football at EWU.  We also spent time and some of that severance money on new road bikes that my big bro took time to educate us about and shop with/for us.  Since that time I have crashed twice and have a lovely chain scar on my leg.  You know it!  <sigh>  We spent 9.16.12 in Demingham with the Kinnunen counterparts and the entire community of Deming to remember a beautiful daughter, sister, cousin, niece, granddaughter, friend, confidant, leader... named Sarah.  Mere days later we moved Wack to 4503 17th in Seattle.  Oh... right... in June, though he wasn't being recruited by the FIJI Rush Chairs - his night there, with them in May - sealed the deal.  He was their first bid, here in The Dan, in early June.  So we moved him in to the house that, when you walk into it, you feel, (if you know Harry Potter) that you have just walked into the great hall and dormitories at Hogwarts.  Shortly thereafter, the season that was shaping up to be #7's big year - came to an abrupt halt with the broken collarbone injury he suffered on September 29th.  This young man who is so passionate about competing was going to now be a teaching tool.  He's learned so much over the years, played and won and done things many others will never do - but his reaction to his injury would now be a tool for others that may face the same hand in the years to come.  But did this mean an end to our tailgating and support?  HECK NO!  We won't go!  Tailgate on baby... we're in it with him whether he's on the field or off.  Some people just have never learned that lesson.  But that's another tangent that I must leave in 2012.  

October 2012.  I turned 43 and lost 8 pounds.  I gave notice for the 3rd time and "they" came up with a plan that I told them "you realize this is a temporary bandaid, right?"  But "they" kept asking me to hang in there.  Hold tight.  They don't want to lose me.  Tic tic tic tic.... Ryno Minn started a radio show down at WSU (Thursday nights) 8-10p, KUGR.wsu.edu.  Starts back up soon.  Make a note of it.  

November 2012.  We pretty much spend the entire month of November counting down the days to our family Turkey Bowl.  This was our 10th.  Not only do we love that time with the K's & the P's THAT much, we found a way to extend our weekend with them by adding an additional "Turkey Bowl" competition.  While the football portion of the Turkey Bowl takes part ON Thanksgiving Day... the new bowling edition of the bowl followed on Saturday.  Originally scheduled for Friday - we had to postpone it a day due to the Friday play of the Apple Cup.  Best.  Day/Weekend.  Of.  The.  Year.  Hands down.  The other great thing about November 2012 - was not The Dads attempt at growing a beard... but rather Blue Eyes appointment to the IFC at WSU.  A paid position!  He is the Director of Public Relations.  What.  A.  Studly Dudley.  He was also a stand up brother and made the trek to Vancouver with us for #7's game in Portland and hung out with his old parents and aunt and uncle while there.

December 2012.  Wayne made the blog.  Wayne didn't want to make the blog, but he did so in fine form.  We made it to the... pardon me... the EWU Football boys made it to the semi-finals and we had the strings to our hearts tugged mightily that last tailgate.  Love those boys.  The Minn family made the trek to Demingham for Christmas again and enjoyed our Deming family so much.  We learned about and watched "Duck Dynasty" and ate entirely too much.  Our family of 5 finally opened gifts on the 27th with no fuss, no hurry, no stress.  Okay... a little stress - considering I had to work that day.  OH... but that day.  Two really great things happened.  The Dad had been a part of a tug-o-war with three companies vying for him to join their company.  A real job.  One we knew was a "no way" and honestly, they were slow to pull the trigger.  The second offer was pretty much stalled while he waited on one he was sure was coming from the third place.  The third offer came, clean, precise and professionally handled... so he finally went back to company number 2 and said "Thanks but...."  Then company number 2 said "Well, not so fast..." so The Dad told company number 3 "They said..." to which company number 3 said "We really want you, but you'd be CRAZY not to take it."  So the final offer and paperwork came through on our Christmas, December 27th, 2012.  It was enough of great deal that I was able to... for the fourth, and final time... hand in my letter of resignation.  I pretty much react and quit when I want to - but as I've "grown up" there were bigger things going on that made me stay the course, time after time this past year.  I know there is a reason I was here this past year...  but to know I get to reclaim my self, my life with The Dad, my memory, my humor, my nights (no longer coming home and immediately putting on PJ pants)... my blog, my time.  There is no greater start to 2013, I guarantee you that.

So tonight - minus one very important Minn boy who made an adventure all on his own by buying a TRAIN ticket from Seattle to Portland to spend the next couple of days with his family in The Couve.... the rest of us plus two girl friends will pile into Hugo's for our annual New Years Eve bowling before kids all head out to other engagements... The Dad and I will come home, turn on the TV, put in a flick, crack some crab and toast to new beginnings once again.  Welcome... welcome... 2013.

The Last Game

I wasn't prepared for this last game.  I was prepared for this last tailgate, because even if "we" had won - I knew this was the last tailgate that I would prep for my friends, my family and my 8-10 football "sons" that we fed after the games... win or lose.   

4 years ago - The Dad and I entered Woodward Field, now Roos Field as parents of #14, an incoming freshman quarterback.  We met a few of Jeff's teammates that year, but he had his own room in the dorms that year and we were new to this whole college thing... football and all.

3 years ago - #14, a backup quarterback was earning his reputation as a phenomenal student and an equally competitive athlete.  He studied on the road, got in for a few plays and we got to know Grant, Nick, Chase and Evan a bit that year.  We didn't really tailgate, didn't really know many people still.  At this point, it was EASY to come by paying for a spot to park at the "upper lot".  

2 years ago - #14 finally got his number and became the #7 we all know and love.  He made a difficult, uninvited move from quarterback to the defensive side of the ball.  We paid for our usual parking spots up in the upper lot, borrowed a friends RV a few times and took several of the Mini Minns friends out and started "our" tailgating traditions.  We made food, brought enough to feed the kids and #7 after the game.  A few games into the season we were initiated into a group of parents whose sons were seniors on the team.  We became a trio of families that coordinated tables, meals, tents, heat, set up, tear down... you name it - The Martins, Sherritts and Minnerlys got it down by the end of the Championship season at "Roos Field".  We finished that season's home tailgates with tri-tip steaks (Minnerly donation), baked potatoes and fixins (Martin donation) and most all other items (steak knives, desserts, hot kettle, fire pit, salad, bread) by Deb Sherritt.  A few weeks later, we all met, hugged, laughed, congratulated our kids down in Frisco, Texas.

Last year - The Sherritts and Martins now gone... and most of Jeff's teammates families from the other side of the state it was time to build "our" tailgate.  But, in our minds, a "tailgate precedent" had been set.  And we were going to abide by it.  So I made food for before the game and for halftime and then usually something different for the boys for after the games.  I would spend Friday nights shopping and cooking and staying up late to get it all pre-prepped and then often, on Saturday mornings, finishing up while The Dad loaded up the trailer we borrowed.  He loaded two different BBQ's, 2-4 coolers, games, a tent, chairs, music, equipment, tables, fire pit... He spent as much time loading, unloading, creating, breaking down, loading, unloading each week as I did cooking.  The season didn't turn out like the one before, but each week we welcomed the other boys parents to our site (by this time, now a yearly renewal), brought the youngest Minn and friends, family, whoever wanted to come to our spot.  We fed, arranged tickets for those who needed them and cheered on #7 who had another pretty dang good year, personally.

This year.  This year.  Wow.  Well with The Dad not working he had time to perfect a few tailgate games... AND the tailgate.  Each week that I showed up to a home game it seemed we had more equipment, more "necessities" and I'm certain there are things I still don't know about that were purchased as the season progressed.  Instead of one tent there were two.  With walls.  There were speakers purchased off of craigslist to go with the receiver (and then when it died, new stereo) to play music that got louder up in Lot 12 as the weeks went on.  A generator rented each week to help run the lights in the tent, the music, keep the car going... and I don't know what else.  We fed 8-12 boys after the games each week.  In addition to those boys, we fed the 10 or so guests we invited to the games and often times, we'd end up with a few more.  As the boys at EWU continued to win - the tailgates and people wanting to take in a fun game on the red turf continued to grow.  I spent more money on food and tickets and while we need to be watching our pennies (still) until The Dad finds a permanent job (not contractual stuff) we also knew this was our final year.  The Last Hurrah.  So we just did it.  If people offered $$, we accepted.  Sometimes.  Other times, we'd find it shoved in the steering column of the Tahoe, unknown who it came from.  We threw some great "parties" up at Tailgate Spot 41 this year.  This last game... we had 40+ EWU friends and family.  We were treated to the best second half of football I have EVER watched and my voice is still not back.  And after a loss - we usually see some attrition in the number of boys that come up to eat after the game.  After all - they are fed something after the games.  But one by one, all of my boys came up to Tailgate Spot 41.  One by one, each of these boys hugged me, The Dad... and thanked us for everything over the years.  The hugs lasted longer and with each one I felt a huge lump in my throat.  All I could say to them was "Good job kid.   Come eat."

We prepared tri-tip steaks and baked potatoes and my usual, weekly batch of cupcakes.  I bought rolls but ditched the salad because after all... I am only one person AND looking back, my body knew more than my mind - that this was it.  The last tailgate.  Maybe the last game.  I was tired.  

The boys stayed longer than they usually do.  As if it was harder to leave knowing they wouldn't be back up next year.  As always, we handed over left over food and spirits, told them to be smart and gave them all one more hug.  I refuse to say "last" hug as I expect to see them at graduation or weddings, Hoopfest, or perhaps future EWU tailgates.  I suppose one day we will see them all at one time when the 2010 team is inducted into the Hall of Fame... but until then - this hug was going to have to do.  <gulp>

With all of that being said - I need to thank a few people.

I need to thank Troy for being such a fantastic ticket manager and helper to us over the years and for taking care of us before he left for greener pastures.  I need to thank Katherine for stepping up this year and making sure we got all of the tickets we needed during this post season.

Judy Crabb - for all questions football related or banquet related, or hotel related for road trips, specifically Frisco, Texas.

Dave Cook - for writing wonderful pieces about #7 and heads up texts to tell me what to be watching for or to ask #7 about.  Not only that, for getting Blue Eyes "in" down at WSU where he thrives in the sports information department.  Wow.  Just wow.

The coaches, trainers, doctors and those who worked with #7 not only through the days of the broken collarbone, but all of the time leading up to it.

To Larry Wier and Paul Sorenson for your enthusiastic play by play and Minnerly tidbits now and then.

To Dave Spencer Crimps for always announcing "Jeff Minnerly with the hold".  Especially that first year when playing QB was going to be so so so limited.  No... especially ALL year because as a parent, it really is a prideful moment to hear your sons' name boom out over the crowd.  Thank you, thank you.

To Patrick Winters - who sought us out game after game over the years to check on #7, see how he was, and just to say "hi".

To Kami & Ken.  Steve, Julie, Sherritts, Martins, Dena & John, Angie & Jim, Ewing, Rich, Wayne, Kim, Rob, Katie, Steve, Maryanne, Chris, Kathleen & Brett, Natalie, Bobby & Danielle, Russ & Diane, Laney & Dave, Laney, Carissa, Cora, Bobby, Dori, Penny & Gary, Jack, Jaqueline, Rich &  Cheri, Dave A., Eddie, Braeden, Linda, Dan, Cally, Macca, Joanne, Matt, J.C., Greg, Kim H, Kevin, Nicolai, Tyler, Jacob, Nick G, Greg, Jason, Brian & Tricia, Peter & Penny, Lynne & Jim, Kevin and Kobe, Scott, Shelby, Con & Mads, Suzanne (Bruiser) & Randy, Joe, Matt & friends...

To Gretchen, Shane, Will and Brett.  So wow.  Right?  Thanks to you both we know the effects of Fireball.  We know to stand up on EVERY single defensive 3rd down and every single offensive 1st down.  We couldn't and can't imagine anyone else sitting in Section D, Rows 26 and 25... just in front of us.  And yes, we will buy OUR tickets next year...  if we aren't sitting in them, some of our very fine, very cool family members will be and surprisingly, they all like you as much as we learned to.

To Grant, Evan, Nick, Chase, Rusty, Kenz, Scotty B, Vern, Daniel, Allen, Ashton, Ronald...  Thank you for joining us after the games.  You boys are hero's not only to the kids in the lot that would find you as you made your way to our spot, but to us.  Win or lose (and y'all won WAY more than you lost) you came (for free food n stuff) but you allowed us into your lives and in turn, you will now always be a part of ours.  We loved not only having you up to Tailgate Spot 41, but for the times you've come to the Lloyd house for tacos has been so  much fun for us.  I tried to make something you all would like each time and if I heard someone say they didn't like something (even if you thought I didn't/couldn't hear you) I tried to change it up, or not make those things again.  

Erick & Tami - for supporting #7 here and away.  The years we couldn't make it to Portland because of Zach's activities and then this year, even though he was hurt... you came.  No sooner had we won the quarterfinals did the girls tell me that your flight was booked and you were coming.  That you would miss your half marathon to support us, to support him - means... so. very. much.  Love you the most.  <tears... damn you!>

Alli & Britt (and Nicholas)- Every game but one were you there to cheer on the Eagles.  You helped me more than you know and when your injured cousin was crabby - you let him be and loved him anyway.  You came.  You cheered.  You helped "run" the tailgates and YOU are the epitome of "family".  You girls are... AMAZING.  I love you.

Zach - Gone though you were this year - you made it work so you could be back for Senior Day.  You were the first text asking how the game went, asking if Jeff was back, or reminding me to get you a ticket to the next game.  You are off enjoying your first year and all that comes with that - and show me what a great brother you are with your quick communications before I could even get a text off to you.  So very blessed am I.

Ryan - So busy you are in Pullman, but still able to make it up for games, or half games every so often - especially if The Mom put on that mom "pressure" when seeing if you would be able to make it up for your brothers first game back, or for the quarterfinal, or...  whatever it was.  You did it.  And you dropped stuff to make it happen.  You make me proud every day.

The Dad.  You know I love you more than my luggage.  None of the fantastic tailgates, games, trips, details... would have been possible without you.  Mostly, thank you for not making such a big deal out of my two trips to the garbage three weeks ago when I got the Fireball bug.  You done good.  You made this year a year to remember at Lot 12.  Wow.  Right?

And here it is.  The last one.  

#7

Thank you for being the competitor you are.  For working hard in school and on the field. For making the best of everything that came your way.  You battled, you earned, you learned more about life & people over the past 5 years -  and your reactions and actions from these lessons taught ME things.  You are smart, level headed and head strong.  You have always been  a competitor and this year, you had to compete within yourself as you went through the season injured.  You've done things many others will never do and you always, always... give credit to others even when you are so deserving.  You are an amazing young man.  I am more proud of you than you would like me to be - but one day, you'll have kids... you'll see.   The sky is the limit for you, of that I am certain.  Go get 'em kid. 

E - A - S - T - E - R - N.... Eastern Eagles, Go! Fight! Win!

Newtown, Connecticut - 12/14/12

Another tragedy befalls our nation.  Another senseless tragedy.  

Tis the season for good joy and merriment.  Parties, carols, music, ugly christmas sweaters, all sorts of desserts, gift giving, gift receiving, shopping, and sometimes red and green jello.

But not today.  Today someones child, named Adam, woke up and decided today was the day to make everyone pay for his unhappy life.  I don't know... do I believe that he was conscious in his actions?  If it's true that he might be autistic or suffer from aspergers syndrome... I've met and worked with kids with aspergers.  They are brilliant, but mostly  outsiders can't tell this.  In fact, sometimes they don't show it in their work in school at all.  Maybe they are so much smarter that they play it safe so as not to draw attention to themselves.  They can also seem devoid of emotion.  I don't know...

Do we know he was unhappy?  No.  Do we know he suffered from mental illness?  Not yet.  Is it strange that his 24 year old brother hasn't spoken to him since 2010?  Yep.  That would make them 18 and 22 when their relationship fell on hard times.  What could have happened at 18 and 22 that would cause his brother to stop talking to him?  

Why didn't Nancy Lanza, who had to have known her son was different, have her guns locked up?  Was she trying to be one of those moms, a good mom - perhaps she thought, who showed she trusted him.  That if she allowed him access to all things in the home, her car, computers, the guns... that somehow, that might help him to feel normal?  

A lot of good that did her.  I know she didn't deserve to die this death.  She didn't deserve to die today.  And no mother should ever die by their child's hand.  Imagine for a second, standing there, pleading with your child to spare your life.  I imagine looking to my child and seeing my baby, toddler and young boy - that whole "life flashing before my eyes" kind of thing, but instead of my life, I would have to think I'd see his life.  

I cannot fathom being the parents of the all too many 5-10 year old children who will not open presents that may already be under their tree this holiday break.  Who won't go sledding with their friends or siblings at the sign of first snow.  Who won't know what an "A" looks like on their report card or know how many "1's, 2's or 3's" they are getting on this quarters grade report.  Who don't GET to fret about the "sit and reach" in gym, open valentines, survive the awkward years of middle school, get a drivers license, have a first love... hear their parents tell them "Be careful.  Call/text me when you get there, please." too many times to count.  Their babies didn't even get a chance to "live" in this world.  To experience, this world. 

Christmas?  In Newtown, Connecticut - who gives a shit about Christmas?  They'd give it all back to have their loved ones with them.  And though she's gone... I believe Nancy Lanzas spirit grieves for them.  Where I chose to believe the Colorado shooters mom bore some fault (for her comment "You've got the right guy.") I don't yet know that this mother didn't do everything in her power to try to help her son.  At this point, with little to go on... I find myself angry with the father who appears to not have been involved in the capacity he likely should have been.  

My gut feeling about shooter Lanza is that he felt his mom loved her students more than him.  What he must not have thought through - was how hurting the children at Sandy Hook elementary, AFTER he'd already killed his mother, could not hurt HER anymore.  It seems glaring that he was trying to hurt her.  

I'm the odd man out here.  I wretch and eyes well with tears for the parents who have lost their babies.  That have yet to be able to see, or hold their babies to say goodbye.  Who will always wonder, in this world today, if it's safe to send their other babies off to school.  Or let them go to a movie, or college on a big campus.  I can't imagine what it was to be those children in those two rooms today.  But as with the victims, I find my heart hurting for the mom who lost her life by her sons hand.  Someone was quoted as saying her boys were everything to her.  That she was a good mom.  And as a mom - I don't know what her life was like watching her son grow up with no friends.  Zero.  None.  Because I would imagine it to be gut wrenching.  She knows, or did likely, before she died, that she didn't help him and that likely hurt her more than the thought of him hurting her.  

Too many thoughts.  Too many unknowns.  Too many guns.  Too many... far far... too many shooting rampages by kids... (yes kids... by age, and by definition, someones kid).  This isn't coincidence.  The world has changed and until we make it right, "change it back" this will continue to happen.  

Heart.  Hurts.

I Can't Sleep

It's been a busy fall.  A busy... busy fall.

Prepping for home game tailgates starts as soon as the tailgate on Saturday ends!  This week had me nursing an all out sinus infection with little energy to do anything other than drool once I could breathe through my nose.  Oh yea... and uh... there's that little thing called "Christmas shopping" that has to get done at some point.

So the antibiotics started kicking in and knowing all that needs to be done - I must have pushed it.  Pushed the crap nestled in my left cheekbone... right on over to the ride side by making us go do some shopping last night.  So... that's swell.

And tonight - though I'm tired and feel like I should hit the hay - I had stuff to do.  The boys are headed home tomorrow.  Wack, Blue Eyes... so sheets were washed, lights were hung, lightbulbs changed, carpets vacuumed, dressers dusted.  The tradition of getting the flannel "Rudolph" sheets on Wacks bed does not end because he lives in Seattle now.  Besides, I know that kid is going to give those sheets plenty of sleep attention over his first college break!  I needed to pick up the office, order some things for our 40+ tailgate "participants" this weekend, send directions to "new" attendees and write the Christmas "letter" that is attached to our yearly "card".  The toilets are clean, the soap is restocked, but the cereal isn't... just yet.

"Greys" has my attention now and something else will after this - I haven't been sleeping well.  It could be that each week we are preparing for what could be "the last game" of the season.  The last game.  It could be because of jobs, Christmas, the next college semester/quarter bills on the horizon.  It could be because the Sinus Infection Fairy decided to bless me this holiday season.  Or that two of three hounds lay at my feet and should I try to move, there's no space to do so.  It isn't The Dads snoring, though once I awaken - that does prove to be problematic...

I guess we'll know if it's EWU football related, rather, tailgate prepping related - after this Saturday.

But for now - two sleeps until Tailgate Spot 41, EWU Football and Go Eags activites commence!

A Tale of Two Tailgates

I might have been able to throw myself at the fireball and cider again this weekend if I hadn't promised all of the boyz that I would NOT do that to them again - last Thursday night when we took them out for pizza for #7's birthday.  

While they all appeared to be entertained by my "performance" the week before, and while I remember thoroughly having a FANTASTIC time... There were some things (like the game) that I don't really recollect all that much about.  I could blame it on the fact that I didn't eat at all that day... and that's part of it, to be sure.  But, as you'll see down below - I found out that I wasn't the only that didn't remember - but still felt fine the next day (mostly).  As Shane said "Fireball is a sneaky bitch." and apparently has mind erasing powers, while still allowing you to feel mostly like you're just having a really great time.

It was FRRRREEEEEZING out there this weekend.  We brought the same 3 gallons of cider we'd brought the week before and a gallon and a fifth of fireball... which ended up being THE ONLY fireball brought this weekend.  So... we were pretty much out of fireball, what with 30+ people partaking in Tailgate Spot 41 before the game started.  Not because our guests were whooping it up - but because some guests of our guests of their guests were all stopping by and helping themselves.  So... this presented a bit of a problem for me.  If I know you, invite you - then I've "prepped" for you.  So as it was - we had to have our soon to be nephew stop after work to pick up another bottle to squeak us by.  

On top of that - I made white bean chili for pre game and halftime - and tacos for the players for after.  Near as soon as we pulled out the taco fixins and warmed up the 4 pounds of meat, were there people I didn't know, going through the line - which was ok.  But a few guys got held up in the locker room after the game and by the time they got up there - the tacos were gone.  THIS, I was not okay with.  I felt awful.

This is the bigger part of why we do this!

My intention is not to have my guests feed these boys - so that's why I make two meals.  But if you are a guest and you invite others to join us - GREAT.  BUT... this is what then becomes the expectation -  you do that, you make sure your guests bring something to the table.  I plan for my group and can't afford to feed others that don't even bother to look us in the eyes or say "hello", "thank you", or "holy shnikeys this is great".  If you can't do that, you can't be in my tents with walls - that have fire pits and heat blowers, food, fun, music, games and on and on.  

So I could have let myself get wrapped up in the fun that is fireball again - but instead I was busy policing random people standing over by our trailer with the coolers on it, Jeff was making sure the fireball went only to our invited guests (& yet, still some asked for a dash here and there) and occasionally we would warm our hands by the heaters.  Never for very long though.

This weekend - we will have as large of a group as we had before and we are thrilled to have them.  Everyone is aware of the newly implemented rules and have been very receptive and understanding.  I think the final straw was seeing two people show up this weekend, that had happened upon us the weekend prior and knew some of our invited guests.  But while THOSE previously invited guests were not here this weekend, their acquaintances still welcomed themselves into our tents, our heat, our food, our spirits and they brought their friends.  Neither of them spoke to The Dad or I and as soon as the last of the fireball that N brought was gone - so were they.  Not cool.  So.  Not.  Cool.

We certainly didn't want it to get to this - but when we are trying to do good, invite fun, plan these "events" and others just mooch - worse yet, these were ADULTS... we have no choice.

I've got one last hurrah... one last time to make a great "event" - great for our guests, #7 and the other players that have just played 60 minutes of smash mouth football in the freezing cold and look forward to this warm meal and music and family and friends.  And stuff.  

My performance... but also, The Dad would like you to listen to the tent noises in the background.

Herbie Can Kiss My A**

I hate sneezing.  I hate on hate getting the hiccups.  I hate even more... not being able to breathe because of a cold.  The sh*t I can't control, I hate.  Stands to reason.

I left the school district a year and a half ago and since then, I *thought* I was getting my "annual" sinus infection once.  Mostly, for about 6 years now, I don't get colds.  I get an automatic, don't pass go, don't collect three boxes of kleenex - full on sinus infection.  It's gotten to the point that mostly I just have to call in to the doc, say "I have my yearly sinus infection." and BOOM! Just like that - I have a Zpak at the pharmacy in my name.

So it's been a good year and a half with a slight "scare" before our last trip to Cabo.  

And then...  yesterday... I started sneezing.  Now, that's usually the precursor to the sinus infection and mostly, for me - that means crap just draining down my throat.  But I can breathe, don't need tissues and my energy is pretty much the same.  But yesterday - as I lay down on the massage table for my appointment to work out some knots and relax and work on my lower back - I find almost immediately I can't breathe.  So what's supposed to be a relaxing affair, turns out to be mental anguish.  For 55 minutes. Crap.

Get home and am losing steam.  But I've got a cake to make for #7's birthday dinner out in Cheney, a dinner to host at Gatto's for his birthday in Cheney and needed to stay awake when we got home so I could hear Blue Eyes show on kugr radio!  Once upon a time when they made actifed - those were the charm.  The dried my sinuses right up and I didn't get drowsy.  But thanks to the meth heads out there, there is no actifed anymore.  Or not a kind that works.  So I took some sudaphedrine thing that The Dad pulled down out of the cabinet.  It dried me right up, made me downright tired and a little light headed.

The good news last night - was that I woke right back up as we met #7, VLB, AK, BK and 10 other EWU "family members" for pizza and fun!  We closed down Gattos (Shout out to Gattos staff for letting us stay past closing time), went to #7's house for cake and presents and home we came in a hurry!

The Dad was wanting to start on his music playlist for the tailgate and listen to Blue Eyes show.  I was breathing better, nose not dripping but it was wearing off, I could tell.  

So - fast forward to this morning.  Can't breathe.  Didn't sleep well.  Just took the last sudaphedrine thingy - already used a half a box of kleenex and all I intend to do today is blame the damn dentist!  Or... the hygienist that is.  Had I not gone to the dentist the beginning of this week - when I really didn't want to go in the first place - I am quite certain I would NOT have this cold!  COLD!  I would prefer the damn sinus infection because it really doesn't affect me (mentally) as bad as a stupid cold!

EFF!

Two Of My Finest Accomplishments

On Thursday, December 6, 2012 - my oldest son, #7 - will turn 23 and my youngest son, Wack - will turn 19.

 

These are two, of my three - greatest accomplishments.

 

#7 - 9 pounds 12 ounces - born at 2:39AM.  Doc says "Linebacker" and for years we joked that the doc got it wrong.  He was a quarterback.  No matter now... he's a safety, a wizard, a national champion, a valedictorian, a two time state champion, a competitive cribbage player, a competitive ping pong player - well, heck, he's competitive at EVERYTHING.  He's got beautiful hair, he's as smart as they come, he's got a great crooked middle finger, my ugly toes, my great smile and the ability to make me see when I'm wrong.  (The Dad does not possess this power.)  He puts other first, gives them all the credit, works harder than anyone I know, dreams, laughs, loves and I am so very, very, very proud of him.

 

Wack Attack - 7 pounds, 12 oz - born at 8:31AM.  The smallest baby became the tallest man.  The boy who laughs!  A lot!  My cuddler, home body boy - has turned into the Bright Lights, Big City young man in Seattle.  He grew up, and out of my home before I could take time to relish in diaper changing, sleeping baby, strollers, bottles and everything from December 6, 1993 to now.  He earned his spot at 4503 17th Ave NE in the classroom, on the field or court and with his honest, down home, friend to all - good nature and work ethic.  He believes in what is right and just and isn't afraid to voice his thoughts.  He has my smile, but not my toes.  He gets comfortable in his surroundings and made the huge step from being an only child (for 2 years) to living in a house with 100 other people and he acclimated, easily.  He made my job easy.

 

Happy, Happy Birthday to my December 6th baby boys.  I am so very fortunate - that God gave me you. 

 

 



Kate Meet Fireball... Fireball... Meet Kate

These things may or may not have happened on Saturday, December 1, 2012:

• 30+ people attended
• 20 quarts of taco soup devoured
• 5 cases of beer
• 5 fifths of fireball
• 1 gallon of fireball
• 3 gallons of apple cider
• 2 dozen hotwings
• 2 dozen cupcakes
• and much much more...
• Shane passed out in the first quarter - Jeff and Jim lugged him back to his base camp (tailgate)
• The music was popping
• I may or may not have recorded Jeff, John and Wayne tearing down the tailgate... all in the dark, while talking and laughing with Dena.
• I may or may not have hugged one too many people.
• I may or may not remember taking Will & Brett down to the field for a photo opp with #7 after the game.
• I may or may not have danced Gangnam Style
• I laughed a ton.  
• I broke a nail setting up giant jenga and didn't freak out
• I clearly... clearly remember Wayne freaking out about not wanting to be mentioned on "The Blog".  He claims it's not a good thing.
• I know I didn't eat... until well after it was too late for what Shane calls "sneaky evil bitch" (fireball) to sneak up on me!
• I prayed on the toilet at the Inferno and tweeted about it.
• I told #7 - I have a plan.
• I took pictures.
• I promised tacos at next weeks tailgate - (damn you Fireball! It's so much work.  But then... I love feeding these boys.)
• I tossed my cookies.  Yep.  Twice.  Proud moment.  Not so much.
• I came.  I saw.  I conquered.

And then...  even with all of that...  there was this:

This tweet made the 11 hour, over and back trip to Seattle on Sunday - for the parents Holiday Open House at Phi Gamma Delta to see... this tree (see below)... and Wack, of course... much more bareable!  It was a great tailgate - best one ever.  The Dad and I laughed and talked and relived it all the way to Seattle... and half way back!

This tree is INSIDE the house!

Game Day - Playoffs Begin

I was literally IN BED last night at 7 pm.  After work, I met The Dad at the store to shop for fixin's for todays tailgate.  As we were walking to our cars - I asked him if we should just go across the street to Famous Ed's for a slice of pizza and then head home, he was game.  And so it was...

When we got home, the one glass of wine I'd had, the margarita pizza had completely absorbed - and allowed me to not feel my nagging back pain.  I think with the recent 6 pound weight loss and no lunch - my tolerance isn't what it used to be.  Thus, there was NO WAY I was prepping taco soup for 30, jalapeno poppers, cupcakes and all of the accoutrements that go with it all, last night when we got home - which was the original plan.

So up and at 'em at 5:18 this morning - laundry started, a few games of YAHTZEE with The Dad on his ipad and then it was time to get started.  

I sit here now - The Dad with the trailer loaded and on his way to get Wayne... then out to set up the tailgate.  We've grown from one tent and one tailgate game, to two tents - WITH walls, two tailgate games, two BBQ's (necessary when the weather gets colder), two tables, two heating elements... we fill it with two nieces, two speakers, two ladles, two cast iron pots, two hot pads, two pans of cupcakes, too many cases of beer, two too many coolers in the trailer and never... ever... too many friends.

I'm feeling melancholy as I write this today because today could be our sons last football game.  I don't think it will be - but each one now, for the next 5 weeks, could be the last one.  With his broken collarbone, this little boy, born almost 23 years ago to the day, has become a man.  He's matured in the last 4 months, last year perhaps, right in front of my eyes and it makes my heart swell.  This... young man... one of the worlds fiercest competitors has faced adversity with his injury this year and still, the mama bear wants to fix it.  We expect our kids to outgrow certain things in life - but there doesn't seem to be a way to outgrow wanting to make things better for our kids.  So it hurts to sit here today knowing there's nothing I can do to take away any pain or frustrations he had this fall.  

I need to get up, vacuum the stairs, pick up the stuff off of the table and place it in equally as nice of piles in the office and get cleaned up and head to Cheney...  But I'm dragging my feet now to do so.  I'm not ready for today.  I'm not ready for the end of this football season, be it today or in 5 weeks in Frisco, Texas.  I want him to play the game he loves for as long as he wants to play...  

Ready?  Set?  Hike Hike!!!

#GoEags #BeatWagner #7

The Dad Turns 45!

It's been a heckuva day...

The Dad woke up a year older... $16 dollars richer thanks to his wifes (yours truly) picks for the Powerball.  (Got the powerball on two of 5 tickets and two numbers right on the power ball lines.  While I'm sure to pocket the winnings (I picked the numbers anyhow) I allowed him to feel like a big Powerball winner!

While he shimmied off to his sort of work - I made a visit to Inland Imaging for the 4th "test" of several for some miscellaneous back pains, to find out hours later that I've got a kidney stone floating around in my left kidney... though according to them, NOT the source of my pains.  But... it's what happened AFTER my ultrasound, shortly after my arrival back at work that really kickstarted The Dads' birthday - for me personally.

Not feeling great thanks to the abundance of "Take a deep breath.  Hold it for as long as you can.  Okay... go ahead and breathe."  from the tests this A.M., I was sitting at my desk, trying to get to everything I missed while out yesterday only to have the A/R gal walk to my desk with a box and say "Somebody loves you...." and put the box down.  

I have gotten flowers at work... but never a box.  I didn't even pay attention to what the box said, I was mostly looking for a sign of where it came from... who - it came from.  I opened it up and found an ice pack keeping its contents cool and was simply perplexed, but trodded on.  I found a card.  A card I will keep and that one day my boys will go through a box and say "Why did mom keep this?" as they toss it into the "Can go" pile...  It was a note from My Pat's (and Robins' too, sigh), sister Lynn - thanking me for 525,600 minutes.  Took my breath away.  Without knowing what lay beneath the padding, my heart was touched and that was all it took to draw my mind away from the persistent back pain that's been plaguing me for several weeks.  

And if that wasn't enough...  I then opened the box.  There they were.  Begging me to adore them.  All 12 of them.  I immediately sent a picture to The Dad to tell him I would share them with him.  I did.  Though I've had more than him.  After all, they are a fruit.  Last night - the scheduler with I.I. told me to eat fruits and vegetables for dinner.  I followed those instructions then... and then again today, with a bit of a twist.

I knew as we headed to Clinkerdaggers tonight that I might have gone one berry, perhaps two, too many today.  I know now that my berries should not be mixed with Clinkerdaggers oh so rich food.  Oh so rich, and oh so good... entree's.  I'm paying for the berries, the shrimp, the artichoke/crab dip, the pea salad...

But though I sit here with a package of cherry creme Gas X on my lap, chewing the little pink tablets like they were lifesavers (which, ironically, they ARE) the berries, the dinner, the fun table conversation with #7 and VLB who joined us, the AirRadioOffense radio show, the unexpected texts from Wack made The Dads 45th birthday, his best one yet - for ME.

Post 1 - Year 2 (Powerball & Starbucks)

I got home from work last night and after The Dad (please see original fivehundred25600minutes.blogspot.com if you're new here) left for his racquetball match I remembered, after being  hunkered down in pajamas and snuggled on the couch with Boone and the other pups (sorry... Jack & Dan - don't want them to feel left out) I realized that I had neglected to stop and pick up Powerball tickets on the way home from work.  I mostly never ever play... but it would be stupid not to play for $553 million dollars.  

I got up off of the couch, sauntered back to the bedroom to re-dress in regular clothes, but then realized that pajama pants ARE regular clothes - so put on a pair of socks, jacket, scarf (lol... with pajama pants) and headed down to Albertsons.  I spent considerable time weighing all of the numbers I needed to play and came up with a plethora of combinations.  I'm sure I didn't leave any numbers out - but I did get one wrong.  On one of the lines I bubbled in all of my families current ages and on another line I darkened our "future" ages... which of course was easy to remember. The Dad turns 45 tomorrow (November 29), #7 and Wack turn 23 and 19, respectively - next Thursday and Blue Eyes... even though his birthday isn't for 4 more months - has a special #21 this year.

What ended up proving to be difficult for me - was not Wack, #7, Blue Eyes or my current ages... but I messed up on The Dads' current age on that particular line/ticket.  So...  when I 'splained this to The Dad when he got home, I told him that Nicholas Cage had errantly picked a wrong number in that movie he was in with Rosie and Bridget - and he won.  So, I'm pretty sure this means something.  It could mean we win.  It could mean we don't.  But it will mean one of those two things.

When I left Albertsons (pay close attention people with birthdays in December, January, February) I decided that since I was alone at home and work to do - that I would pick up a Starbucks drink aaannnnnddddd - while there, get my $5 Starbucks birthday gift cards.  I can't tell you how many I ordered - because I ordered one with a different amount for someone and then an assortment of cupcake cards, snowmen cards, holiday tree cards... but my total was $70 even.  Even Steven.  So I looked to my favorite Starbucks gal and said "Oh, but my drink isn't on there."  To which she replied:  "I just love that you do this for your friends and family... so you're drink is on me."

I didn't make out any better off - because her generosity and compliment made me feel, happy... and still... less worthy at the same time.  Made me wish I could give even MORE.  I can't explain it... So what did I do?  I threw what little cash I had in my wallet into the tip container.  

And Boom!... goes the dynamite.

"Passes it to the man... and..."