humor, Uncategorized

Perfect Storm

At the end of July we hosted a party for my daughter who had graduated from high school back in May. It was a HOT and HUMID July afternoon, pretty par for the course for summer in the Midwest. I had decided that I was going to cater it all and not worry about a thing. It has been a stressful year and even harder summer, with lots going on in our family and little time to worry about the details of a backyard event. However, I did want to pull off a great party for my daughter who has worked so hard to get where she is and deserved a day of attention and celebration.

Lucky for me, Ted worked nonstop to get the yard ready. If you know us, you know we have a large backyard with a decent sized swamp wetland taking up a corner of it. There are random groundhog/skunk/raccoon holes all over it. Add a swing set, multiple trees, and a huge slope leading from the street level to the lower-level walkout basement, and he had a lot of work to do. Also lucky for me, I have a sister who came into town a day early to help with the indoor work. (Not lucky for me: A dog that has had extensive gastrointestinal issues which results in steaming cow pies in our yard and frequent sulfurous gas emissions.)

The day of the party we were in pretty good shape. That morning, we woke up at 8am to get the final decorations on the tent before the party started at 2pm. It was a steamy and hot already. (For the record, I am terrible in the heat. I sweat like a sumo wrestler in a sauna.) Franny, my sister Melissa, and I began by carefully moving the rented tables and chairs onto level ground to avoid the large divots in the yard. We gently placed the royal blue fancy tablecloths on the tables and made sure they hung evenly all around. Ted and his brother had strung outdoor lights throughout the tent. Franny assembled around 20 lanterns of different sizes and hung them evenly and symmetrically from one corner of the tent to another. Melissa spent a lot of time stringing together a banner of paper triangles to hang as bunting around the perimeter of the tent. We all worked hard as the time slipped by until around 12:30pm, when we felt we were done. We were drenched in sweat and disgusting.

We had about 45 minutes to get ready before the food arrived. Ted ran to the store to get ice and Franny ran to Target to get a last-minute item. Melissa and I went upstairs to shower. I even had time to sit on my bed after the shower and take a short break before the work began again.

Now, I realize this a long, boring build-up to my story. But you need to know the extent of the work that was done before disaster hit. And it hit fast and furiously. At 12:45pm, around an hour and 15 minutes before the guests would arrive, and after four hours of prep, Ted arrived home from getting ice to see a truck in our driveway and the tent guys packing up our tables and chairs.

Apparently, the owner “Steve” (I’m going to protect the poor guy and not use his real name), got his dates wrong. He thought pick-up was the day of my party, not the next day. The tent was halfway disassembled. The lights had been cut down and were tossed aside. The flags Melissa had so carefully strung and hung were ripped off the tent and lying crumpled on the ground. The tablecloths were in a pile in the dirt. (I really wish I had taken a picture to show you the extent of the damage, but the fury that overtook me prevented me from being calm enough to take a photo).

All I can say was I thought I was in a dream.

I don’t know how to explain what came over me, but I ran down to the yard yelling like I was possessed. It’s possible that the stress of 2026 funneled into my brain, personality, and mouth all at once and was released on that poor guy. I won’t repeat what I said, but it ended with Steve (a big, tall, burly man) sitting on a chair re-stringing those delicate flags with his beefy hands.

Side Note: I don’t know how a person could look at a tent that was strung with lights and banners and flags and lanterns and see tables covered in pristine clean tablecloths and maybe if you looked around notice that there wasn’t really any garbage laying around and not be able to deduct that maybe A PARTY HAD NOT HAPPENED YET. Why he didn’t stop short and think, “Hmm..maybe I should double check my dates,” or “Hmm..maybe I should knock on the door and ask them if they want their lights or lanterns or tablecloths before I rip them off this tent and throw them all on the ground,” I just don’t know.

We had a little over one hour to get the place set up again. Except this time, we had two very frightened tent workers helping us. I can’t comment on anything during his part of the day because I actually walked away and let the rest of my family handle it. What I can comment on with confidence, is that none of us ever really recovered from the heat. The next hour was such a rush that I started sweating again and never stopped. I did not wear what I was planning on wearing. I did not wear my hair down the way I was planning. (In fact, in the pictures from the party my hair is a disaster. Why did no one tell me?) My makeup ran off one hour in.

But in the end, it made a good story for everyone who walked through the door. “Did you hear what happened with the tent?” We all had a good laugh as it was fixed before the guests showed up and it looked nice enough that no one noticed. And as with every “I can’t believe this happened” incident with me (and they seem to happen often), mid-way through I was thinking, “This might make a good blog.” But was there enough material? Well, I shouldn’t have worried about that, because what happened the next day left me with no question.

Monday was a dark and overcast morning. It was obvious from the skies and the forecast a storm was coming. I wondered when the tent guys would come to pick up their things and was surprised they hadn’t arrived early in the day. I decided to go outside and make sure all the tables and chairs were completely underneath the tent. I was hoping to get some kind of refund for the trouble the day before, and the last thing I needed was the owner saying his tables were water-damaged and we could call it even.

At around 11:30am it started getting really dark. If you live locally, you will know that in some areas it was dark as night outside that day. Suddenly, the alerts went off loudly in unison on all the phones in our house. Tornado warning. Now, I will admit that I am lazy about tornado warnings. I don’t always take them seriously and go into the basement like I am supposed to. But this time was different. It was very windy and by now black as night. My friend Maggie was visiting, and she and Franny and I went into the basement with the dog and took shelter.

Now, mind you, I have a walk-out basement. So, even though we are “taking shelter,” there are two glass windows and a glass door that lead to the very wooded yard, so I am not sure how safe it actually is. But there we were. It was loud and windy and rain was pelting down and by the now the power was out and it was VERY dark. It was a little bit scary, and at one point I even thought I heard voices, but in a dreamy sort of way, like if you were in a horror movie and strangers show up at your door during a storm looking for shelter while running from aliens.

Except this horror movie was real life and the tent guys were outside my house. it was real life and suddenly Franny yelled, “The tent guys are outside!!”

Yes readers, the oh-so-bright tent gentlemen were back. Taking down my tent in the middle of a tornado.

I went to the door and opened it. Three grown men were wet and shivering on my back patio like stray dogs.

“THERE IS A TORNADO OUTSIDE. GET INSIDE” I ordered them. I was dumbfounded. I am sure I looked like a disappointed and confused mother. What on earth where they doing there? None of them moved. “Oh we’re okay, we’re just going to —” Steve started to say. “GET IN THE HOUSE NOW! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” I interrupted.

Suddenly Steve looked to his right, “TREE FALLING!” he shrieked, and the next thing you know, he and his lackeys were running into my house while a tree crashed about 10 feet from where he was standing.

I was done with this mayhem. I started barking out orders. “Come in the living room. Don’t touch anything, you are wet and dirty. Don’t sit on my couch. Who is in charge?”

Turns out Steve was the owner. He went on to explain that according to the radar they checked, the storm had passed, so they decided to head to my house to collect the tent and tables. I mean, you don’t need radar to see that it is pitch black outside and windy and rainy and that a tree just fell down next to you. But anyway, there they stood in my basement for about a half hour until they felt it was safe to pack up and leave.

Epilogue: A few days later, the weather report showed c that an actual tornado had touched down in our area. In fact, according to the map, the path of the tornado literally passed through my property. I have to believe it touched down the minute I had opened the door and the tree fell. This is because it matches the time stamp of when I snapped a pic of the Steve and his crew in my basement. (Yes, I took a picture of them. I was already concocting the blog in my head as it was happening.) Unfortunately (or fortunately for them), the power went off as soon as I clicked so the picture is dark, which might be good because I don’t want them to sue me.

I know you are all going to want to know what the rental company was so you can avoid them, but I have used them twice now and I’m not going to ruin a guy’s business because of one mistake. He rectified it immediately and gave me a partial refund and was very apologetic.

Then again, when Ted said, “I’m sure you must feel horrible. This probably never happens to you,” Steve look at him and answered, “Eh, about once a year actually.”

I can’t make this stuff up.

The guys in my living room

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adolescence, college, Family, Motherhood

The Hardest Goodbye

For a year I have been counting down the days until my oldest goes to college. And not in the way you might think. This is the last summer we have before he turns 18. The last Christmas we will have while he is still living at home. The last family vacation while he is mine. I try to joke about it, “This is the last Friday in a July that you’ll be living under my roof before you graduate!”

But I’m only half joking. I am not ready for this stage of his life to be over. And what I really mean by that is that I am not ready for this stage of MY life to be over.

He is my firstborn. I have spent more time with this human than probably any other person on Earth. He is my heart and soul and life and happiness and anxiety and worry and pride and annoyance and frustration and everything in between. And his leaving is not just a rite of passage for him, but for me as well.

To all the young moms out there: Remember when you cried on your child’s first day of kindergarten? You ain’t seen nothing yet.

I wonder, were my parents this emotional when I left for school? I have no memories of them even dropping me off, although I’m sure they did. I have ZERO memories of my mom crying or even visiting me at school. I am quite sure she drove home and didn’t think twice about whether or not I was scared or sad or going to make friends or be lonely. I know FOR SURE she did not add Life 360 to her phone or order the blue bags from IKEA or get overwhelmed and panicked from following multiple parent groups on Facebook. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only time she called to check in on me freshman year was to ask me why I got a D in Statistics.

I’m not just saying goodbye to him. I’m saying goodbye to a season of my life I won’t ever get to experience again. And I have tried to savor all the days lately, even the bad ones, because at least he was still MINE. But still, this day came faster than I wanted it to.

And right now, I can barely breathe.

Raising my kids has been a joy. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it can be unrewarding and thankless at times. But spending time with them has been an 18-year journey (so far) that has fulfilled me in ways that I didn’t know existed before I had kids. It took many years to mentally adjust to being a “stay-at-home” mom. Accepting parenting as my job, and not being embarrassed or resentful or feeling like I wasn’t using my degree was difficult. But now that I am nearing the end of this stage, I can’t believe how I am going to miss it. My house has been full of fun and noise and laughter and teenagers, along with dirty dishes and stinky soccer cleats and backpacks on the floor that for some reason just can’t make it the extra four inches into their cubbies.

I am going to miss having a house full of high school boys making noise in my basement. I am going to miss the shouting coming from his bedroom while he’s playing video games. I am going to miss someone as competitive as I am when we play board games during dinner. I am even going to miss charges showing up on my Target app and Starbucks app for Doritos and Iced Mochas. And just who is going to be there to explain to me what’s happening in all the Marvel movies when we go to the theater?

I barely remember the hard days. I mean, there are STILL hard days, but I’m sure someday I will forget these too. I just know that lately, I have ached for a do-over. Not to change anything, although I’m sure I would if given a chance. (Don’t get mad so quickly, don’t argue with them all the time, let things go more often). But I want a do-over just so I can experience it again. I want to relive the days when we would go to the library and the toy store and end our day getting ice cream. I want to go back to the days when he was attached to me and wanted to play trains all day. I want more zoo visits and mom-and-tot classes at the park district. The days when my whole life was him and his whole life was me. Why does it feel like I wasn’t paying enough attention all those years?

Today my firstborn goes to college. And he is ready in every way.

I’m just not sure I am.

First day of Kindergarten and first day of Senior year
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Friendship, humor, sorority, Uncategorized

TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!

An open letter to my college roommate:

My dear friend Carrie,

As you approach a half a century and I think of our friendship of almost 30 years, so many stories come to mind.  We met during my sophomore/your junior year.  We had rushed the same sorority and lucky for me, ended up being roommates and friends for life.  Like all college co-eds, campus life afforded us many memorable shenanigans. This experience was only enhanced by our living in the same sorority house.

There were six of us that lived in that spacious top floor dormitory.  We dubbed it “The Penthouse.” I suppose we thought that made us sound sexy.   In reality, three of us wore black and thought we were groupies for the Smiths; the other three wore pink and green ribbons around our collars and knew what grosgrain was.  (You’re googling it right now aren’t you?  Unless you grew up in the 80’s and remember the Preppy Handbook you are probably not familiar with this word.)   I came from a small town in the boonies of Michigan. You came from a tony suburb of Detroit populated by descendants of Dodges and Fords.

Somehow, we both ended up in Ann Arbor.

Freshman year I lived in the “Jock Dorm” (Yes, I see the humor. I have no idea why I was placed there.  But honestly, where were they going to put me?  In the Class Brain dorm?  Umm, Michigan.  EVERY DORM was the class brain dorm.  And when I got to U of M I realized I had nowhere near the brainpower that the rest of the student body had.  It kind of made sense I was with the kids that were there because of athletic ability.)

You came from the all-female dorm on campus nicknamed “The Virgin Vault.”  That was what probably led to you being voted, “Most Likely to be a House Mother.” Well, that and the fact that while the rest of us were buying stretch pants at Express, you were browsing the racks at Talbots.  My guess is by now you have progressed to Chico’s or J.Jill.

I, on the other hand, was voted “Most Likely to be Heard Round the World” and “House Headbanger,” proving that some things never change and some things COMPLETELY change. (Ok, Ok, ….So I DID go to a party once with a guy named “Beast” which MAY have been why I got that last moniker.)

You are the friend that gave me what Ted has labeled the “Worst Housewarming Gift Ever”:  A giant bag of tulip bulbs.  I loved them; Ted, being the one who planted them all, felt any “gift” that required manual labor was no gift at all.   (For years before he had a handle on who was whom, Ted referred to my college friends as “the little one,” “the one who worked for the NBA,” “the one who lives on Lake Shore,” and the “one who gave us all those tulip bulbs.”)

It’s common knowledge that if you are my friend, being a good sport is a necessary requirement.  But you go above and beyond.  As evidenced by the following stories:

The Friars: The Friars were a campus a capella group consisting of cute boys (with talent!)  We have revisited this story countless times and it is still as funny to me now as it was the day it happened.  You had a late class.  The Friars were coming to sing. I had your composite picture.  What more needs to be said?  The handsome and talented Friars arrived during dinner to promote their upcoming concert. Greeting them on the door, right above the doorbell, was your formal picture.  There you were in a black, off the shoulder drape, smiling at them.  I had added a speech bubble, “Welcome Friars! Love, Carrie.” You arrived shortly after. You walked into the dining hall with the photo in your hand red-faced and laughing.  Another “sister” wouldn’t have been as gracious with me.

The sleepover: One of the rules of living in the sorority house is that boys were NOT allowed beyond the first floor. Most people adhered to this because who wants to sneak a guy past 65 women and a crotchety old house-mother named Kitsy? It’s also just common courtesy to your roommates to not have a man in your room overnight.  Sometimes though, when you are liquored up, common courtesy goes out the window.  One night, for reasons I can’t really remember, my boyfriend and I stumbled home from the bar and literally crashed into my twin bottom bunk bed. My five roommates were asleep.  My boyfriend was passed out. He was a big guy, 6 ft tall and built like a football player. He wasn’t going anywhere.

The next morning you came in from the shower and started getting dressed. Your dresser was three feet from my bed.  Well, I think you remember what happened next, even if I can’t.  Let’s just say he got closer to your boobs than he did to mine that day.   I MUST INTERRUPT THIS LETTER TO MENTION THAT THE GIRLS IN THIS ROOM WERE WHAT SOME WOULD CALL “CHESTY.” I think we can assume that if my boyfriend were awake at this point there is a good chance it would be HIM telling this story to HIS friends 30 years later instead of ME telling MINE.

That was the last time he stayed in our room.

Side Note:

Sometimes your husband reads a draft of your blog and comments that it is a little long and that perhaps one paragraph could be trimmed and suggests it be the one about your college boyfriend that you haven’t seen or talked to in 25 years and you are not married to and then insists he is not upset but then also says maybe you should cut the part about the guy named Beast you went to the party with because it’s not really funny so you briefly consider building an entire blog about past relationships but then decide you will maybe just add an unnecessary but satisfying sentence describing the boyfriend as “6 ft tall and built like a football player” and call it a day. 

To let you know how long my trickery lasted the final story I will tell is one that happened several years after college when we found ourselves both living on the East Coast.  I was in Boston and you were in Hartford and we tried to get together when we could. One weekend we decided to drive the entire Cape.  We stopped at Plymouth Rock for the obligatory visit.  Who knew there was an entire living history museum there on the tall ships complete with actors?  Seeing a young handsome lad “playing” an adventurous seafarer was all I needed to try to make a love connection for you.  If you think trying to play Cupid with two embarrassed people is funny, try doing it with a person trying to stay in character from the 1600s. He may have told you he was unable to go play mini-golf due to a severe case of scurvy.

I should tell you that my sorority was the best thing that happened to me in college.  And not just because of the endless parties and pranks.  In a university the size of Michigan, making friends and finding your place is hard.  Sorority life WAS college for me.  There was no U of M without the house and the girls in it.

Carrie, you are one of a small group of women I have consistently stayed in touch over the past 30 years.  You and they have been there for me for the good times and bad. The ones who sent care packages to me and gifts for the kids when Ted was going through chemo.  The ones who were game to get down on the floor in cocktail dresses and try to form a pyramid at my wedding.  The ones who drove from miles away to be there when I have had family members die.

Here is what I know for sure: The longer you have friends the longer you have them.  My closest friends are the ones I met when I was still a teenager, before I really became an adult.  These are the people who formed me and made me who I am.  The ones that no matter what accept me for who I am. They not only really know me, but also really SEE me.  Through the ups and downs of life, and the friendships that come and go, these girls have been a constant for me.  Thank you for saying “yes” on bid night.

Loyally in επ,

Samantha XO

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Text from Carrie when I told her my birthday letter to her was turning into a blog post: 

“Dear God, this is exactly what I was afraid of. Lol. Isn’t that how I started the conversation the other night? Of course you have my ok.” 

Left, above: Carrie and her pilgrim   Right above: Carrie’s composite picture    

Top picture from left to right:  The little one, Carrie, the one who lived on Lakeshore, and the one that worked for the NBA

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