5 Rooms, 3 Bathrooms, 6 Closets Down...

1 bedroom, 2 closets left to go.

This weekend found me cleaning/gutting the furnace closet (who knew there could be so much CRAP in the furnace room?? and oh, more boxes of crap - The Dads - that SHOULD have gone to the free shredder two weeks ago...), the "Christmas Closet" and the closet also known as the "paint" closet or also known as the "I know that there are super scary spiders in there" closet.  So The Dad helped with that one and fortunately - MOST of it went to the garbage and there were NO spiders.  I was able to round up 3 bags for Goodwill between the 3 closets though and a myriad of things for craigslist or Ebay...  Oye.  Needless to say, the office - the room I started this "project" in, is currently a disaster again.  

Everyone tells me that it must be such an "amazing feeling" to have done this.  I find myself squinting at them, trying to get a read on whether they realize what's left to do?!?!  It's mental warfare, people.  I have to find the energy enough to just THINK about hitting one of the boys rooms.  There's stuff everywhere!! Things I'm not supposed to ever get rid of.  Like the cheap card shuffler that #7 got from his girlfriend of 3 WEEKS his senior year of high school - that laid on his closet floor and I eventually tossed.

The card shuffler will haunt me forever.  It was brought up just this past Sunday when #7 & #10 were in town for dinner.  Gads... the plastic, likely broken anyhow - card shuffler.

So in Blue Eyes room - I saved the fireworks, the cigars, the checks that I'm assuming were deposited from his iPhone and not left in all of the areas I found them, hopefully NOT undeposited.  <shrug>

I have no idea what to expect in that last downstairs bedroom, but as I sit here - I'm realizing today likely isn't the day I'll be attacking it.  I like the sun shining - that little extra energy the sun brings to a dirty job is not to be taken lightly.  So tomorrow it is.  I think.  That's up to Mother Nature.

All I know is - I'm running out of time.  Blue Eyes is done with school this week, we have a trip to Cabo coming up in mere weeks, a college graduation <party> to plan and then - my little birds will all be home.  Messing it up again - though, with far less around to really, really mess it up with.  Now THAT - feels good.  Not amazing.  Not yet... 

But getting there.  

The Most Sympathetic Person.... EVER...

Is not me.

I've been stressed during this lifetime - comes with the territory of being the youngest, parents divorcing when I was a wee tot, parent arguments, having to vacuum *just so* in order to get my $5 weekly allowance (ha!), a baby before marriage, two more in short order after marriage and being only 24 & 26 by the time the 3rd one arrived.  The Dad has always worked hard to make ends meet - and sometimes they just didn't.  I have worked off and on over the years - wanting to be a part of something other than just letting my "home world" rule me - but battling to just be "just mom" at the same time. I have not found the perfect balance.  Yet. Some women would rather work from the time their newborns are 3 months old.  I was never one of those, but wanted some sort of identity outside of the house too, as they got older.  

So when my last "newborn" was heading into his senior year of high school - I knew I could and should leave the working world of the school district and find something year round.  I was even looking forward to it.  After all, while it's nice to be home in the summer - I'm not a wife/mom who has the means to join the ladies tennis club or Wednesday morning golf group.  Staying home in the summer NOW, isn't what it was when the boys needed to be raced from summer camp football to summer league basketball, only to finish off two games and race to summer league baseball for a double header.  I'm no longer "needed" at home during the summer.  Or winter break.  Or spring break.

I found a job.  A job I liked.  It needed to be brought up to current times, but this isn't about that.  During the course of a year there - about 10 months in, I started having some pretty noticeable discomfort and pain in my lower back.  I let it go for some time thinking I'd just strained it... or something.  Tried a different chair at work.  Paid close attention to what I was doing at the gym.  My weight wasn't going up...  <shrug?>  It was enough towards the end of November that I made a visit to the doc.  He prescribed an ultrasound (did find a small kidney stone, but not likely the problem), physical therapy, blood work, massage...  you name it.  Massage helped, but a few days after - I was back to sleeping with a pillow propped up behind me, in front of me and tried not to move.  It.  Sucked.

Within 3 weeks of me leaving said job - my back pain dissipated, until it was next to nothing.  What struck me as funny - is when I told people I had left there which would spill into this "had health problems I never had before, then I left and wah lah..." - they would all say "Stress, huh?"

Okay.  What?  

For me, stress always showed up in the form of a migraine, which later in life turned into  tension headaches - which I learned how to manage with ease.  So much so, I rarely have them anymore.  Oh... riiiiiightttt... that's because NOW - "stress" has chosen a *new* spot to call home.

But this was all new to me.  This "back pain" stress idea.  But seriously... everyone said it. 

So here I am at the gym this morning - and I realize that my back feels about 98.99 % normal.  I do have some little aches and pains every now and then.  Like when you get a nasty gram from a college stating that $620.29 is still owed for tuition or else... and MOTY contacts that child and says: (going off topic now)

MOTY:  "Have you logged on to your student page, like... recently... or EVER, this semester?"

CollegeStudent:  "Oh.  Huh uh.  I pretty much only log on to that when I have to register for classes."

MOTY:  "Hmmm.  Is it almost time to register for classes?  We got a nice little reminder for some unpaid tuition that we didn't know about.  It's fine, but, uhhh... we'd like to know about these things - you know... sooner."

Next Day:

CollegeStudent:  "Hey, I can't register for classes until my tuition is settled and I'm supposed to register - TOMORROW."

MOTY: "Mmmmm hmmmm.... "

Needless to say - that tossed a nice little amount of stress into our lives that - well, the back pain showed up for a few hours.

But back to the gym.  I'm realizing as I'm working the machine I'm on what a pain back pain is, but how good I'm feeling and I'm then reminded of my days as the MRI Assistant for a local radiology clinic.  Where day after day after day - the people would come in with back pain.  I would interview them, get their patient history and in many cases - give them this pretty little pill to help them relax for their trip into the big machine.  

The giving of the pill ticked me off.  Yes the machine is loud.  Yes some studies take a while, but less time if you hold still.  I know - I volunteered when the new machine went in, to be a test patient for a few scans.  So I understand the machine.

The majority of my patients had back pain.  And the majority of them - were overweight.  No.  Extremely overweight.  And in ALL OF THOSE CASES, they were also claustrophobic. Annnnnnd many of them... were repeat scans.  So "unsympathetic me" was usually talking under my breath as I printed the films, tagged them and went to hang them for the docs.  "Hey, if you'd take the time to lose some weight, your back might feel better."

Today - I stepped on the scale as I've been working out, doing different things to get back to the weight I was at from age 26-40.  From 40-42 I had two surgeries and got royally screwed by the doc with an injection of hormones which took MONTHS to work through my system.  One shot.  Months.  It's not his fault my body doesn't "process" hormones like 99% of the general population... but it's not like over the years, he didn't have time to process that kind of stuff, given my history.  (Please give props to The Dad for surviving me during these long, agonizing, crappy ass months.)

Back to the scale.  I stepped on it and nodded.  "There you are" I said to the number that showed up.  "Nice to see you again."

Which prompted me to think about weight and MY back pain.  Maybe it was part stress and part weight?  I've lost exactly 10 pounds since my trip to Cabo in April 2012 but it's taken more work.  The older you get, the harder it seems.  But worth it.  10 pounds pales in comparison to what the larger folks who entered my modality all those years ago needed to be free of.  In fact, if today I still weighed what I weighed last spring, it would be considered "normal" or "healthy" for my height.  Perhaps even just those 10 pounds affected me the way weight affected the patients then?  

Nahhhhh...  I don't think so either.  Just taking a shot at being "sympathetic".  Didn't work.

Oh and yes...  I really did have to vacuum so that there were perfect lines on the carpet and I did only get $5 for it.  For those who were wondering.

This House Is Clean... Well... Getting There.

I think I've mentioned that I'm gutting my house.  I received a text from a friend in Medford the other day and when she inquired what I was up to - I said "I'm gutting the house."

Medford:  "Still?"

HKOTY: "Uh.  Yea.  All those days when I thought I was "cleaning"... I was really just hiding crap that needed to be put away in an appropriate spot, but that meant actually organizing and making that spot and dusting and vacuuming around more crap.  I was in effect, denying myself the real meaning of a CLEAN house."

So a few weeks ago I spent over two days cleaning the office.  I had EWU #7 posters, wrapping paper, boxes from various projects, mailings and such behind the brown chairs in the office.   Games upon games stored under the table next to them.  5 YEARS of newspaper clippings from #7's games, files in the desk, on the desk, under the desk, in the chest beside the desk...  and then IN the desk cell phones of every make and model, color  and pictures from all sorts of decades (seriously) in each drawer - even though each drawer should have it's own "category" of "stuff" in it.  So it took time and a certain frame of mind to get in and START in the office.  But it made my bedroom easier.

Now in our bedroom, we've got a big built in closet system.  And most of the open shelves on The Dads side housed books he's never read.  Many of them.  They also housed baseball scorebooks from when he coached Blue Eyes and Wacks' teams.  Yes - we're talking 10+ years old.  Many of them.  Several old laptops and a gazillion hats.  On my side were various bunco prizes from (I'm not kidding) 7 or so years ago, little things that I figured I'd re-gift (c'mon, it happens) and more files that were strategically moved from the office when I ran out of spots to hide them.  My diploma, some yearbooks, more pictures and momentos.  Books galore on and in my nightstand...  And you know how we go through our closets and drawers at least twice a year ladies - to pull out the summer stuff and put away the winter and vice versa?  And when we do that we find something we haven't worn for at  least 5 years but then justify keeping it by saying:  "Well.  We might go camping this year and that would be good for that."  So we keep it.  Didn't happen.

I pulled out 5 BAGS of clothes for Goodwill!  And I didn't even touch The Dads stuff (a first).  I went through shoes I never wear (thanks to the torn achilles) or wore once.  As I sat and looked at some of it though, I was a bit torn because some of it was just in too good of condition and cost a bit of $$ for me to just toss it to Goodwill.  The last time I tried or used Ebay was ages ago and it seemed such a hassle and I like selling big things on Craigslist, but other than that - I don't much love Craigslist either and that process.  I pulled up my big girl pants and logged onto the Ebay site and found that, over the years, it has gotten to be a simpler process... that or, I have more time that it didn't seem like such a time suck to get something posted.  So I went at it.  Cleaned up stuff and went on a posting frenzy!  And - in less than a week - made $500.  Say WHAT?!?!?  

Then came Wack's old room.  Now dubbed "The Bike Room" or The Dad's "office" (no desk or chair in there.)  If you had walked in there the day I started it, you would have seen two bikes, two pairs of bike shoes, two helmets, a box of pictures and crap I moved in there when the remodel started (nearly THREE years ago) and Jeff's big box of stuff that lived on his desk at Family Crap Care.... I mean, Family Home Care.  But in the closets were trophys, old pillows, baseball cards (still have them but condensed 6 boxes into 2), Mark Sosa (Zach's big old fluffy stuffed St. Bernard), old Scentsy stuff, The Dads indoor soccer stuff, books books and more books - oh... and more FILES from the office.  As it is now - the office still LOOKS like a disaster, but after 4 bags were filled for Goodwill and all of the books from our room, the office and down in Ryan's room were categorized and loaded onto the closet shelves - I can see through what will wait on that floor until I have finished the rest of the house.  Why?  Because the stuff that I left in there is ALL photos and things that need to be sorted through with diligence and then something, once and for all... done with them.  And I have a plan...

Next came Blue Eyes room.  When he left for college - strike that, whenever he comes home at the end of the year - he piles in more stuff than he took to school through his bedroom window (because it's just quicker this way) and for an entire summer, there is no way we are walking in his room.  I got fed up one year and took everything he left plus more "crap" that didn't need to be in our "theater room" and shoved it all into his very nicely sized closet!  I'd been dreading the day I'd have to actually go through that closet... but this gutting had started and I'm not stopping until order is restored in this house.  Order that has NEVER been in this house.  

I started with his nightstand and desk and what was under the bed.  I dusted the desk, tossed beer cans (neato) and stacked more books for the  upstairs closet shelves.  I found more airsoft gun bb's... 10,000 more.  These are in addition to the 14,000 I found in the garage and little desk downstairs when the original gutting (of the garage) started.  Seriously?  We needed 24 thousand bb's?  And then I opened The Closet door.  It was FREEZING in there until I got the rest of the air circulating in there.  All told, I "found" 4 bags worth for Goodwill, about 8 items for Ebay and a few other treasures.  As I went through the first drawer I got rid of straggler (single) socks and one of them, well... was not like the others.  Something was hidden in one.  "Hmmmm" says MOTY.  A can of chew.  Empty.  Gross.  God d*(^^%*&^it.  WTF?  But I continue on.  Until two drawers down from that... I find nearly every pair of American Eagle boxers given to him the last two years.  So the thought crosses my mind - "Is he wearing underwear?  At all?"  Matches, fireworks... and like BIG ASS fireworks... in my house? and four boxes of cigars.  <sigh>  So I send him a text asking that while GUTTING - I found these things...  We had a little dialogue, but this I loved:  

His room is almost done - rather, his closet which was the scariest of sights and I was certain to find some beastly spiders - but found none.  It turns out, spiders were as afraid of the things I found in his closet as I was.  I've got to run a vacuum over it, wash the sheets and prepare for mounds and mounds of dirty clothes and everything else he brings home - to be tossed through the window in less than two weeks.  At least this year, after the past three - there will be room to hide some of it (again) in the closet that no one could open the past couple of years.  So there's that!

Next up I'll hit the "Christmas Closet", then the furnace room, then the closet next to #7's old room (now Wacks) and then... that last bedroom - which... I don't anticipate to be AWFUL seeing as when #7 went to EWU and Wack moved down there - there was a slight "gutting" at that time.  

As the stuff has piled up in the once gutted and clean office - stuff that I've Ebay'd off and needs to be shipped - I began to feel like I'd made zero headway.  But as the packages are sent, slowly - the extreme "organization" that I haven't had since, well... probably EVER - is starting to shine through.  The two boxes and one bag I took out to the free shredder no longer sit in the middle of the room, packages mailed, the last little bit of office gutting evidence needs to be placed back in "The Bike Room" with the other photos and things that need to be "picture" organized.  All 5 years of #7's articles have been cut out of the massive mound of newspapers I had in there and once the photos are sorted through, I will take to the 3 bins of sports shirts that house all of the boys numbers, names, "firsts".  First flag football jersey, first Pony baseball shirt, first Hoopfest shirt, first Hoopfest Champion shirt, first Y basketball shirt, and many more and at least start the process that lies behind the reason I kept them all in the first place.

But today.  Today the sun is shining.  The sun is shining and Black Betty needs a good run through at the car wash.  I will tell you this though - I am EARNING my trip to Cabo.  I will have no problem laying in a lounge chair, in the sun, on the beach, listening to waves hit the shore, sipping on a bloody caesar and then later a margarita... 

It's taken me many moons to get here - but it's really starting to feel - oh. so. good.

In The Middle Of Our Street...

Friends of ours recently moved from their home of 20 years to a house "just around the bend".  The deal was on, and off, and on... then off again...  and then, finally on.  But all the while - she was going through drawers and boxes and closets and so on.  Often times dropping things in my mailbox.  

And I got the itch.  

Not to move.  But I'm here.  I'm home.  It's been 12 years in this house and during those 12 years I've worked full time, gone through a major remodel, kids have gone to college... and come back bringing more stuff than they've gone with... and then they leave the next year and don't take it all - and so on, so forth.

I started with ONE of the big closets downstairs.  Pulling 3 Xbox - boxes (empty) out, two old computer towers, easter grass by the pound (and it weighs NOTHING, right?), baby blankets, holiday decorations I NEVER put up.  I reorganized, washed the baby blankets and brought them up where the rest of the blankets are and thus started my  "This House Needs Reorganizing, In The Worst Way Possible" project.

I put together files each year to put all of our bill stubs with my notes of when paid, how much, confirmation numbers.  Those are housed in my desk all year long.  At the end of the year... well... they've found some pretty great spots in my house due to lack of space.  Well, there's space - but as the years have gone by, every party we would throw would find me shoving whatever was out in sight into whatever space I could hide it.  Thus, loss of organization.  I found 2005-2007 in my bedroom closet with 2011 - where shoes should be.  I found 2008-2009 in a basement closet with the margarita pitcher Grandma Jean gave us.  2011 was in the new "bike"  bedroom.  And last but not least I conveniently stashed 2012 under the desk until the taxes were done.  I know there's a box with the years before that in that same "margarita pitcher" closet, but I'm certain there are monstrous spiders back there, just daring me to pull that box out.  So that one will wait until the weekend - when The Dad is home.

I know I'm going to appreciate this so much  more when the nails I found in my nightstand are nestled away nicely with the nails I found in the desk downstairs and the nails in my scarf drawer... outside... where the nails should be.  If you walked in my house yesterday (even now), you'd likely think you stepped into a very real "Hoarders" scene.  I've taken two loads to Goodwill and have sold countless items on Craigslist.  Things that don't sell will also go to Goodwill, but I figured some of them are worth the shot.  But because of them, the office that took me two days to gut last week - is a mess again.  Oye.

I have a garbage bag at the bottom of the stairs, one in the hallway between Blue Eyes room and the bathroom, one in the "bike" room, two in the office - along with a bag next to THOSE, for all of the crap to go to Goodwill.  

Oh - and The Dad?  Well that day he was so happy I asked him sweetly to freakin get the garage in order?  He took 600 POUNDS to the dump that weekend.  

So one of three big storage closets in the basement - check.

Three bathrooms - check.

Master Bedroom - check.

Downstairs TV Room - check.

Three more rooms, 5 more closets and my house will  be perfect.  Perfectly ready for all three college boys to move their shit back in for the summer.

But still... better than what it is.  <knock on wood>

Back at it!

There's Nothing Wrong With "Average"

We were having dinner at a friends house recently, eating dinner and somehow the conversation found it's way to the topic of a persons' I.Q.   Not just a random person, but someone specific.  Some sports player or movie personality.

That led us all to wonder about our own, and as we sat there, food still on the plates in front of us - The Dad pulls out his iPhone, searches for and downloads an I.Q. Test app.  And starts it.  <sigh>

The conversation continues as the girls cleared the plates from the table into the kitchen and put food into containers, refresh our wine...  When I walked back to the dining room, our host called me over to the living room, had pulled up an I.Q. Test app (the same one The Dad was doing) on his iPad and said "Here.  You do it."

I didn't shy away from it or drag my feet as I walked in there - thus telling me that I'd had just enough wine to not really take it seriously or be concerned.  Yet.  So while our hosts warmed up the dessert I'd prepared and served it to the other guests and the kids in the house - I went to task on this I.Q. test.  I talked to myself a bit while I took it and for a time, felt like I was competing with The Dad as he continued to take it on his iPhone.  

At one point, as I was nearing the finish line - The Dad said he couldn't concentrate on it with the "commotion", and that he'd finish it later.  I on the other hand - started it,  and was going to finish it.   A few times Rich sat down next to me and would listen to me and my "Rainman" impression as I worked through the problems in front of me.  He offered his thoughts twice - and out of 33 questions, I only recall that on the second question, I didn't agree with his thoughts and went with my own answer.  I remember the problem even, for whatever that's worth.

The conversation and laughter continued on at the table and as I neared the final couple of questions - it was apparent the wine had evaporated right on out of me, it's side effects gone and I had realized that I was going to finish the test and have a score pop up on the screen... with all of our friends sitting there, anticipating what it was, how I did.  Crap.

As I weighed these thoughts that were coming quickly and, out of fear, worried that those thoughts would bring on a massive hot flash - I told myself that I was amongst friends, I knew I couldn't be much worse than "average" and that it was good to be humble and this would hold me to that.  Unfortunately.

I started the last problem, made my selection and hit ENTER for the last time.  It was here I hoped that an advertisement or seven would pop up and my credit card number would be required to get the score - especially since Rich and Cheri came to sit by me as I finished.  

That didn't happen.  I hit "ENTER" and up popped my score.  BOOM!  Right there.  No hiding it now.

126

Absolutely!  Of COURSE it was 126!  Why did I fret about it!?!?  I felt as I had "Rainman'd" myself through them all - that I had done so thoroughly.  I didn't feel like I just picked any answer to pick one...  I was ON FIRE!  Obviously.  The Dad had this pained look on his face, as if he wasn't sure whether to accept my score for what it was, or... was it... perhaps....

FEAR?!?!?!?

No.  It wasn't fear.  Well, not competitive fear.  Just a bit of exasperation that my head might swell a little.  Plus some.  And it did...  a little.  Plus some.

IQ Scores & Ratings What is a good IQ score?  What is a high IQ score?  What is a low IQ score?  These are common questions, particularly after someone finds out their score from an IQ test. Lewis Terman (1916) developed the original notion of IQ and proposed this scale for classifying IQ scores: Over 140 - Genius or near genius 120 - 140 - Very superior intelligence 110 - 119 - Superior intelligence 90 - 109 - Normal or average intelligence 80 - 89 - Dullness 70 - 79 - Borderline deficiency Under 70 - Definite feeble-mindedness

How should you interpret an IQ score? The table below has been derived from Resing en Blok (2002)¹ and provides a clear overview.

IQ	Percentage of the population with this IQ	Interpretation
> 130	2.1	Very gifted
121-130	6.4	Gifted
111-120	15.7	Above average intelligence
90-110	51.6	Average intelligence
80-89	15.7	Below average intelligence
70-79	6.4	Cognitively impaired

The next day, The Dad pulled up the test again and began quietly working through them.  I leaned over him at one point to see where he was on it and said something like: "Oh.  I remember this one.  You want to know what I did here?  Or how I dissected the information and came up with MY answer?"

The Dad:  "No.  I do NOT want your help.  Just let me do this."

WOTY:  "I'm just sayin... sheesh."

SOME TIME later I peeked over his shoulder again and he immediately turned away so I could not see where he was at.  I could see that he was close, but was anxious because that score made me feel exceptionally smarter all of the sudden.  The suspense was killing me!

The time had come.  He hit "ENTER" that last time and with me sitting practically on top of him so as to see his score - it popped up.  Now I never said I wouldn't tell people his score...  but considering he made his own Bookface post telling people I was now calling him "Forrest"  <snort>...  I will divulge this much:  He did get a 3 digit number.

Since then a few of the others from dinner that night have taken the test and sent their scores.  The men with excuses like "I took it left handed." or "I was in between phone calls as I took it."  

My only comment to The Dad was - "You know, if you'd have let me help you on a few of those..."

As it's gone since then - me working out in the mornings, gutting closets all afternoon and pajama/tv/couch bound by night - I usually find some time to allow thoughts into my head telling me that I really should be working, or looking for it.  Doing something other than preparing my house for... nothing...  Using my "gifted" brain.  And then it dawns on me:  I can't work.  

I strive for perfection, am detail oriented, and finish things before people (boss type people) would expect something finished.  I take pride in that.  And then, as I usually do, I find ways to perfect age old processes (THEM: "because it's ALWAYS been done this way...") (ME: "not anymore"... because your archaic way is stupid) that include time-saving "enhancements" and are more proficient with technology now of days.  Duh!  Right?  Working myself out of jobs... my mother always told me that I would do that.  It was always just a saying to me - but dang... she's right.  I'm TOO SMART to work.  

So now it's time to embrace my "very superior intelligence" and put it to good use.  I'm going to put all of the crap I've cleaned up back where it was because there's no way I'm cleaning inches of dust and miles of cobwebs out of here, just so "Forrest" can find a way to make me want to leave this "job".

Clearly, I'm smarter than your average bear. 

Everything Happens For A *Reason

I did not grow up going to church so my "belief" and understanding in and of God is different than those that did.  Since I can remember - there's always been a part of me that's wanted that connection, wanted to believe in the something, someone that we can't see, can't talk directly to (face to face), - can't submit a question online to "His" helpdesk and get an automated response from. But then things happen - like a boat wreck, a motorcycle accident, cancer, a car crash ~ leaving me to wonder why a God would allow those things to happen... to THOSE people.  People who are loved by many.  

**I don't think I've written this story (PART I) down before...  but even if that is the case, it's important to tell it again.  Here.**

Sarah, my niece, was killed by a drunk, speeding, reckless driver (I usually use much more colorful, well deserved words for him) on a two lane highway on September 16, 2011.  Her absence is felt by so, so, SO many people who would give anything to have her back.

Part I:  Somewhere between 6-8 weeks after we attended the memorial for Sarah in Demingham, my son Ryan, then a sophomore at WSU, went to a dance hall over in Moscow, Idaho one evening.  He was standing there, minding his own beeswax when a young man walked in the door.  For some *reason their eyes met and while Ry continued his conversation - this young man made a beeline for him.  He walked up to him, extended his hand and said "You don't know me.  I saw you a few weeks back at Sarah's memorial.  My name is Matt."

Ry was stunned.  The two of them went outside and talked...  about Sarah.  Matt knew exactly who Ryan was as Sarah had shared stories and photos of her cousins with him during the time she was growing up and her mom and I - growing apart, thus forcing the same unfortunate path onto our kids - "the cousins", to an extent.  They laughed, cried and told each other to keep in touch.  

Ryan saw and spoke to Matt a few more times - up until Matt decided to not head back to Pullman the following semester.  

Part II:   THIS past Saturday was Ryan's 21st birthday.  Jeff, Jeff and I drove to Pullman on Friday night, late,  to help him take in his first visit to the bar at midnight.  It made a memory for all of us and we were so happy to have made the trip down, even though we didn't arrive home until 3 AM.  

We slept later than usual due to our late night adventure, worked out and putzed  <sp?> about doing odds and ends on a blustery, cold, off and on rainy day.  We'd had an invitation to join our friends for dinner - a BBQ of sorts at their home with another couple.  While the 3 guys watched the semi-final NCAA matchup, us "girls" ended up in the living room while dinner was cooking and idle chit chat ensued.  We started out conversing about the kids, who did what over spring break, yada yada yada.  There were a few books sitting on the ottoman - so we began chatting about them.  The book titled "Proof of Heaven", while not knowing what it was about, made me ask if either of them had read "Heaven is for Real"?  Neither had, but both had read this book and the story behind them was much the same.  It led "C" to speak of her sister who had died.  She spoke of that day at a baseball game and of the bible verse that popped into her head when she heard the news.  As she relived that day, that story - I found myself wondering how to find that part of my brain that would "understand" God and for the love of God - be able to recite a friggin verse... from memory.  Our "discussion" continued on and I stated that there have been enough things that have happened that make me believe that there are no coincidences.  That everything happens for a *reason.  

While "C" tended to agree with me, our other friend, "T" said that she had had people she was close to.. so close to, die and she couldn't see how that could be part of a "*reason".  I completely understood where she comes from because - to think about it - Sarah?!?!?  Hello?? What good *reason could be given for that?  But still... 

PART III:  So I wake up on Sunday and I grab my iPhone that iLove as I do each morning - to check on my Twitterverse, see what emails may  have come in and what the weather is going to do to my mood that day.  But on my home screen, right there - is a text that causes me to gasp - literally, as I read it:

  

So to understand this better: some shirts were designed and printed with a tree that Sarah had drawn in high school.  And then more shirts and sweatshirts - sold, with all of the proceeds going to a scholarship in Sarah's name at her old high school.  This is the "Sarah shirt" Ry is talking about that "Todd" was wearing... at the bar... that Ry was at... on his 21st birthday - a birthday that Sarah was 2 and a half months shy of hitting herself at the time of the accident.

It brought the conversation from the night before - front and center.  You see, to me - there's a *reason that Todd was wearing THAT shirt to the bar on April 6 - and that he was there when Ryan & Suz were there. 

This time - Ryan was not approached by someone he didn't know, but rather - he got up, walked over to Todd and started a conversation with another one of his cousins circle of friends.  He made an acquaintance he would never have otherwise made if it weren't for that shirt.  That shirt that Todd wore to the bar that night.  That girl who drew that tree.  Coincidence?  No.  

From Sarah to Matt.  Matt to Ryan.  Ryan to Todd.

That was Sarah's doing.  There is no other *reason.  

So then - "Why Sarah?" on that fateful night?  I don't know. But then I'm the one that believes there's a *reason for everything.  Sometimes I think that up in Whatcom County, where an offender has 32 or 34 priors and the courts keep letting him go, free to cause harm to any or all, or one in his path - that Sarah was the one that had to help rid society of that derelict.  But she didn't know him, so that doesn't make sense.  Then what?  

Bringing people together.  She continues to bring people together.  People who don't know each other, people that do.  The bonds remain stronger perhaps.  Is there a part of me that thinks that it happened to help bring healing and restoration to her family?  There's that saying that "these kinds of things" can bring a family "back".  Yep.  But it doesn't always work out the way God intended.  Isn't that a saying we hear just as often?  

For whatever *reason - she's made two very unforgettable appearances in Pullman to her cousin.  I know she continues to do the same for so many.  We can question if there's a message or meaning behind these events, or we can rest assured knowing she's still out there, taking care of her family.  Bringing people together.  Even if not the way WE all intended to watch her do it.  

SURPRISE! Happy 21st Birthday Blue Eyes!

As the boys were growing up - I made a tradition of taking cupcakes to school on their birthdays.  Unfortunately for Blue Eyes - his birthday always fell during the Spokane Public School's spring break.  So mostly - he never got them at school... in front of an entire class of his friends and peers... ON his actual birthday.

So he and I were talking about his birthday the other day and I pouted through the phone line and said "When are we going to get to celebrate it with you?".  He chuckled and said "Maybe you could bring cupcakes to my class on Friday."

Of course I thought that sounded like a great idea!  I asked him how many were in his section... at the Edward R. Murrow College of Communication at WSU.  He laughed and told me that "No.  You're not going to do that."  I knew that.  He knew it.  But he wanted to stress that I really knew that.  <sigh>

I've always had this knack for spontaneity.  There were times when the boys were younger - that The Dad would get home from work at 5:37 p.m. on a Friday and I would have bags packed, pillows by the front door and the kids ready to hit the road for the 6-7 hour drive to visit family for a day and a half.  We'd arrive there at midnight, hang out all day Saturday and we'd hit the road between 10 a.m. and noon on Sunday.  We did that often enough.  Heck - we still do it - minus kids.  It's what we do.

So when I woke up on Friday morning, April 5th, 2013 - I just knew that I had to celebrate Blue Eyes birthday - his twenty first birthday with him - to some extent.  I quickly connected with Snoozeanne to find out what the plan was for him.  We went back and forth for a bit and finally determined "the plan".  

His pledge brothers were throwing a party at Suz' house and at midnight, the plan was to head to the bars.  His "first beer" he says...

I texted The Dad and let him know we WERE going down.  We could just surprise him at the bar - at midnight - or get to the party and then take him for his "first" beer.  First legal beer, that is.  He didn't put up a fight - so next I let #7 know the plan because he had mentioned the week prior he might go down.  He was in.  The plan was set.  Leave the house at 9 pm for Pullman, surprise him at the party, take him to the bar.

It's been some time since The Dad and I have been to a real - college party.  A double kegger, in fact.  But if we were going to hit one at our age - this was the one!  Snooze did a great job as hostess - even with beer spills, upside down drinkers, beer pong and someone doing Gangnam Style - on.  her.  countertop.  

Dev, Ry & Jason - Saxons for life!

The time came - we helped shoo out the kids, clean up and much to my amazement, a few of the boys - one in particular, Jordan - stayed behind to mop up and finish cleaning.  I was so impressed with that kid.  He had a mop in hand as we were walking out the door.  We climbed the hill to Valhalla - Ryan got "carded", I didn't and The Dad got laughed at.  We were the oldest people in the joint.  The Dad commented on it several times - obviously a skoche uncomfortable - but the smile on Blue Eyes face as we celebrated with him (his brother and dad with cocktails, me with diet pepsi) didn't allow those kind of thoughts to penetrate my brain.

We left the birthday boy, now 21, in good hands, gave hugs and made our way back to Suz' apartment to get the car and head home.  We giggled and laughed and relived Ryan's surprise when he first saw us in that crowded, beer filled, beer spilled apartment.  When I got home, a text from Suz said Ry had made it home safe and sound and that he was so happy and talked about how we had come to surprise him on his birthday.  

I'm sure today he's drinking gatorade... and perhaps... snacking on these:

Of COURSE I made them.  Was there ever a question?

Happy Happy Happy Birthday to my blue eyed boy!  Have fun on the FIJI cruise, safe travels to Seattle and so so much fun at the Mariners home opener on Monday!  I love you so much.

Feelin' Good!

It's Friday.  It's April 5th.  Good things.

It's windy.  It's rainy.  Not so good things.

It's not snowing.  This is exceptional because, it can AND WILL snow in The Can in April.  And May.  And June.

I've had my Starbucks.  - Good.

I skipped my workout.  - Bad.

All of the crap I had to file is filed.  - Good.

The laundry isn't even close to done.  - Bad.

My weight is down.  - Great.

There's nothing to eat in this house.  - Bad.  (Now I sound like my kids.)

But it's the weekend.  A blogger friend sent me this viral video today - and because I'm intently working on my next post (when I haven't even finished, or even really STARTED this one) I'm going to insert it here and call this a wrap!

Enjoy your Friday!

31 Good Things - Finishing Strong

Friday, March 29 - A perfect day for some time in Pullman to see Blue Eyes!  Lunch, passport processing (no thanks to Fred Murphy and the USPS in Pullman, WA...) and pre-21st birthday chatter!  The Dad had scheduled us plans that night and while we thought it was Wacks last night home for break and I wanted to hang around these parts - it turns out that #7 made plans to hang out with him, so off we went.

Saturday, March 30 - We raced to run a few errands with Wack before his 1 p.m. departure only to find out that his departure time AND date had been moved back to the following day.  Easter.  Okay... so for the MOTY that always complains about  empty nest - I was sort of looking forward to not having to even step foot in the kitchen on Sunday.  This changed that.  So Easter brunch was ON!  I asked The Dad to see if Blue Eyes and Snooze could make it - and they could not.  Her parents were in Pullman and had already planned to take them out.  :(  #7 said he was in, I knew Wack was in...  so you know what this means, right?  Cooking, cleaning, prepping... Because not only had I told #7 he and #10 could come, I told  him to extend it to her sisters and their spouses knowing the girls' parents were heading out of town for their spring break.  Not knowing who all was coming, we got down to it.

Sunday, March 31 - Up early - to the store, to Starbucks (of course).  I made a fruit "tray", bacon, sausage, eggs, hash brown casserole, monkey bread and bought juice.  I thought about getting champagne and making mimosa's but thought "Nahhhh"... out loud and to no one in particular.  So it was a very nice surprise when Dori & Bobby showed up with mimosa' fixins!  Mema came and thankfully - she wore a bra as I'd instructed her to do.  We ate, told stories of mice and horses, and then the Holy Board games were on!

  

But as quick as they all came, ate and filled our home and chatted around our table - helping make it feel like "home"... they left.  And the house was quiet.  The house IS quiet.

The Dad rounded out the month of March, the month we rush to get through - with a phone call from his sister, which was fitting.

But now it's April and so much to look forward to!  There's Blue Eyes radio show on Thursday night, Blue Eyes 21st birthday on Saturday (oh my gosh...), Blue Eyes spring FIJI cruise ON his birthday followed by a trip to Seattle for the Mariners home opener - his gift from Snooze for his birthday!  I've got hair therapy, toe therapy, massage therapy and a bet going on until April 29th on DietBet to lose 4% of my body weight.  Sadly, in 3 months, I keep maintaining the same weight while working out 90 minutes a day and eating - not much and certainly not crap.  So... dear DietBet gods... I hope you're listening!  The sun should shine more and I can begin to pull out spring/summer clothes and start washing them, replacing them in the spots where all of the wretched WARM clothes are now hanging.  The garage is cleaned - uber cleaned, what with my initial superficial cleaning and subsequent nagging to The Dad to "finish what I started" - he gutted the spot above the garage door that housed 12 years worth of sh*t we haven't used.  600 POUNDS to the dump with another load to come in the near future once I finish the inside closets!  

We cleaned up March pretty well I think.  There really is nothing better than opening up our home to any and all and welcoming them to our "family".  I believe we've set a very, very, very, very good example for the boys.  One day, they or their wives - will receive in the mail - a "thank you" much like I received from one of #7's teammates last week.  He'd finished up his schooling and left back for Arizona... My heart hurt and warmed the very next instant.  Hurt because I felt like one of my new sons' was gone - but happy we have that "extra boy" along with so many others because our home was a place many of them spent Thanksgiving or a taco night every so often.  

Yes... March wasn't so bad this year after all.