It’s Good To See Your Smiling Face

img_9639.jpgA few weeks ago I stopped at my parents house after work to help my Mom with some tech issues she had been having. For months she had been telling us that she needed to get a new iPhone because ‘an annoying message kept popping up saying her storage was full and she didn’t know how to get rid of it.’ Well, I highly doubted she actually needed a new phone so I told her I would stop by the house and take a look at it. Plus, I was getting tired of her using the “my storage is full” excuse when she wanted to take a picture at family gatherings. “Ok kids, I want to get a picture after dinner but my storage is full on my phone so it can’t be done on mine. Kathleen, can we do it on yours? You brought the selfie stick right?” She’d always say. (Talk about a lame excuse, am I right? Classic Mo Money) For some reason my Mom just assumes I carry a selfie stick with me at all times. I think I’m beginning to get arthritis in my arm from constantly having to be the one to hold the selfie stick in our family group photos. I needed to fix her phone so other people in the family could start holding the selfie stick. That thing is heavier than it looks.

So, after I finished fixing the sound on her laptop, I moved on to her phone. It only took me about 2 seconds to realize why her storage was full-She had about 3,000 photos on her phone. You may think since she has five children and five grandchildren that these would be all family photos, but no. My Mom had thousands of the most random and useless photos on her phone that should have been deleted years ago. Some of the pictures I came across were:

  • a picture of a light bulb
  • a picture of a Carson’s 20% off coupon
  • a photo burst of a church bulletin
  • A blurry picture of a PowerPoint slide on her computer screen
  • Numerous photos of what looked to be a Poison Ivy rash on my Dad’s arm
  • A video of a faucet at Home Depot (I think she meant to take a picture but accidentally took a video instead.)

Here are some other Kodak moments she captured on her phone:

After telling my mom what the issue was, she agreed to let me go through and delete what I thought were dumb photos. I began doing this and stumbled upon some very strange photos. “Mom!” I yelled to her from the kitchen as I sat at the table deleting photos for her “Why the heck do you have a photo of a dead bird on your phone?!” What kind of sick person has a photo of a dead animal on their phone? I began to question if I really new this mom of mine that I though was so sweet. “Oh hold on sweetie let me see that photo.” She paused the murder show she was watching in the TV room to come take a closer look with her reading glasses. “Oh THAT bird!” she said excitedly. “Yea, look at how interesting that bird’s beak is! I’ve never seen a bird like that! I keep meaning to text it to my college roommate to see if she might know what type of bird it is! She really knows her birds. Don’t delete that one yet please.” “Mom,” I replied with a laugh. “You took this photo in 2014! That was five years ago! Do you really plan on still sending it to your friend at this point?!”

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The disturbing bird crime scene photo my Mom has on her phone.

Well, the dead bird photo was classified as a ‘do not delete’ photo so it stayed on her phone and I’m sure my mom still has yet to send it to her friend. But, I was able to delete some photos to give her some room on her phone and she was very grateful that her ‘little tech girl’ (as she likes to call me when she’s not calling me a ‘little smart ass’) came over to help her once again.

Even though I moved out of my parents house almost a year ago, it really doesn’t feel like it all that much because I find myself over at Mike and Mo’s Old Maid Boarding House quite often. In fact, I don’t think my dog Duke has even realized yet that I actually don’t live there anymore. But my old roommates and I have a good system going now since I moved out. I come home and provide them with IT services, humorous & sarcastic comments (As I’m sure they miss having their “Little Smart Ass” living with them full time), and they provide me with food (They really love feeding me which I appreciate because it saves me trips to the grocery store), Diet Coke and their interesting stories.

Just the other day my Dad was telling us how he had to break up a “cat fight” early one morning. We were all on the edge of our seats as he told the story. He literally broke up a fight between two cats that were hissing at each other. I was so glad no one was hurt in the scuffle. Talk about scary stuff. You never know what these pet parents are teaching their pets these days. Then my mom topped his exciting story with her own story about how she went shopping before Father’s Day to get water shoes for my dad but accidentally ended up buying water shoes for herself instead. Major plot twist!! Did not see that one coming.

Besides sharing stories, we also have some great conversations too. The other day when they were feeding me dinner we had a riveting conversation about one of my dad’s favorite shows, Ice Road Truckers:

Dad: Kathleen, want to watch Ice Road Truckers with me after dinner?
Me: Absolutely not. I have no desire to watch that boring old man show with you.
Dad: Oh come on it will be fun!
Mom: I thought that show was canceled?
Dad: I have some recorded from previous seasons.
Mom: What’s the guy’s name on that show that has all the kids?
Dad: The guy with the 12 kids? Ahhh… Hmmmm… Oh Hell what’s his name?!
[Several minutes go by as we anxiously wait for my dad to tell us the name]
Mom: That’s ok if you can’t think of it. I was just wondering.
Me: And I really never cared what his name was in the first place, so don’t hurt yourself trying to think of it.
Dad: No, hold on, it’s really going to bug me if I don’t think of it!
Mom: You could tell me his name was… Josh or something and I’d believe you, I don’t know any of the characters on that show.
Dad: ALEX! Ahhh yes! I remembered it! Alex is his name! He’s a Catholic too.

Other hot topics these days have included the new toaster they just got (Mike Sr. thinks it’s too fat and takes up too much room on the counter), the new washing machine (Mo Money HATES the new washing machine-it’s too loud) and the Shred and Electronics Recycling Day our town was having. There is nothing Mike Sr. and Mo Money love more than shredding and recycling old electronics. I was worried with this day coming up that I’d get flooded with calls from my parents asking my advice on whether or not it was ok to get rid of various cords they had been holding on to since the early 90s or computer games that only work with a Gateway 2000 desktop computer, but surprisingly they didn’t have too many questions for me.
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When a family member needs your help eating cheeseburgers you have to be there. No questions asked. Family comes first.

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No matter what we talk about or do when I go over to my parents’ house we usually have lots of laughs. We’ve come a long way since when I first moved out and was getting accused of taking fans from the house (my family is very particular about our fans) or being pestered about going through my mail or going through my coats in the coat closet. Now my parents seem to really enjoy having me stop by. I’m not sure if this is because I finally returned the coolers I borrowed from them or if they really are starting to enjoy my company.

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In my defense, when it was agreed that I could borrow the coolers for my party, we never agreed on a time frame of how long I could use them for.

After any visit, whether I was over for dinner, helping them scan something, fixing the TV, or just stopping in for an afternoon Diet Coke, as I’m leaving my parents tell me to text them when I get back to my apartment so they know I got back safe and sound (even though I only live about a mile away). Each time I text them that I got back to my apartment they tell me “We always love seeing your smiling face.” Mom and Dad, I always love to see your smiling faces too.

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Mo’s emoji game is on point.

 

Summertime, Baby!

892.JPGAs the fourth of July holiday draws near, I honesty can’t believe how fast this summer is flying. While it’s been a busy June, the start of the summer of 2018 has DEFINITELY been more relaxing than the summer of 2017, when half my family decided to make a pregnancy pact and all be pregnant at the same time. Last summer, I felt like Steve Martin in Father of the Bride Part II running around trying to prepare for the birth of the babies, never knowing when the the moment would come.

I am especially grateful that I haven’t had to help my mom host any baby showers this summer either. Last June, my mom thought it would be a good idea to host my sister’s baby shower at our house. She must have blocked out the memory of all the years we had to host graduation parties at our house when she made this decision. With 5 kids it seemed each year someone was graduating from grammar school or high school and we had to throw a party at our house for it. Unlike my mom, those horrific memories of preparing for the graduation parties were burned in my mind, and I knew getting ready for this baby shower would not be much different than those graduation parties. The cleaning, the errands, preparing the food and drinks, the decorations. It’s exhausting. I still remember as a small child getting ready for my brother’s graduation party. Per usual we were up to the last second trying to get our normally messy house in shape for the outside world.  I distinctly remember the panic I felt when I was sweeping and out of the corner of my eye I saw our first guests walking up the driveway. My siblings soon saw the guests too, and we all looked at each other, frozen in fear with our cleaning supplies in hand. We said nothing, but we didn’t need to, the terror in our eyes said enough. After no one moved or talked for what felt like hours I finally shouted to my mom. “Mom! Aunt Kathy and Uncle Jim are here already! What do we do we’re not done cleaning the dining room!” “WHAT?! ALREADY??!” My mom responded frantically “Did we not say four on the invitation?! It’s just a few minutes after four why are they here already?!” At this point we’d go into crisis mode-a drill we knew all too well. My mom would run upstairs to change, do her makeup and take the curlers out of her hair while us kids would handle things downstairs. One kid would go make small talk outside with the firsts guests (stalling them from coming inside) while the others would start shoving papers, shoes, backpacks and any other junk ANYWHERE we could hide it-cabinets, drawers, closets etc. I must say, as long as no one opened any doors, our house looked pretty darn good!

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Don’t bother calling DCFS on my behalf. Sadly this picture was taken 15 years ago so the statute of limitations is up, there’s no saving me now.

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Big smiles after being told we would not be hosting a party for Bridget’s Kindergarten Graduation. Michael was so excited he forgot to support baby Jane’s head. She turned out semi-ok still though.

While I tried to convince my mom to have it somewhere else, she insisted hosting the shower at our house wouldn’t be that bad. And as it turns out, she was actually completely wrong. It was WORSE than getting ready for those graduation parties. For one, our workforce was less since only two kids lived at home instead of five. Poor Jane and I were worked like dogs-cleaning, getting balloons, alcohol, food, decorations etc. Meanwhile Duke, the only real dog in the house, did no work at all which I thought was completely unfair. Also, we had no clear theme since my sister didn’t know if she was having a boy or a girl! (Spoiler alert: She had a boy). And don’t even get me started on setting up the tent. Putting that tent together nearly ripped my family apart. Then once the shower started Jane and I thought we were off the hook but no, our work continued. Again, I related to Steve Martin but this time in Father of the Bride Part I when they host his daughter’s wedding reception in his backyard and he doesn’t even have time to eat at the party! And to make matters worse for us, Mo was CONVENIENTLY leaving for a vacation with Mike Sr. the day after the shower so poor Jane and I were left with the clean-up as well!

 

 

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The one thing we forgot to put away before the baby shower. Mo claims it was a tomato plant. Sure, mom, ya big hippie. I’ve read books about the 70’s, I know what happened back in the day.

So, how have I spent the summer of 2018 so far now that I haven’t had any baby showers, you ask? Well, this summer I’ve been caring for a different kind of baby, my favorite kind of baby actually, my Baby Boomers, Mike and Mo. Baby Boomers are a lot like newborn babies except they require a lot more care and attention because they need help with just about everything technology related.

One thing that has kept me earning my room and board is the smart TV in our basement. My siblings and I got this for our parents as a Christmas gift and it completely backfired on us-me in particular. My Dad loves his television shows so we thought he would enjoy a bigger, sharper TV for his basement “lair” as we call it. Boy, were we wrong, Mike Sr. is not a fan of new TVs and all their “bells and whistles.” Just about every night I get summoned to the basement by my father’s calls. “KATHLEEN! THE TV IS BROKEN AGAIN!” It’s never actually broken, he just doesn’t really know how to use it. Last week, I heard my nightly call from my father, and dragged myself down to the basement where I found him sitting perfectly still in his La-Z-Boy recliner, a blank stare on his face as he waited for his in-house cable repair man-aka ME-to come and “fix” his TV so he could watch Railroad Alaska or Highway Thru Hell or whatever dumb old man show he was watching that night. I became irritated because I could tell he made no effort to solve the problem on his own, and I was tired of constantly being the cable man of the house.

Me: What, are you paralyzed from the neck down or something??!! Can you not move and reset the cable box? You’re just sitting there! Did you even TRY to get up and resolve this issue on your own??!!
Dad: I pushed the AT&T button and it didn’t work! These damn TVs now a days you need about 8 million clickers just to turn the thing on! Why can’t we have one of the old TVs where you push the power button and that’s it!
Me: YOU DON’T NEED 8 MILLION CLICKERS! HERE, LOOK!
(At that I grabbed the remote and in about 2 seconds I had his show on)
Dad: Well how in the Hell did you do that so fast?!
Me: Dad, we’ve been over this a thousand times before, you have to learn! I won’t always be here to fix the TV for you.
Dad: Hey, at the rate you’re going who knows if you’ll ever get married and move out, you may be an old maid living with us forever, which is fine by me because we will need someone to take care of us when we are old.
Me: You already ARE old. And I told you many times before, I’m putting you right in a nursing home. And not one of those fancy and fun nursing homes like Smith Village. That place is like college for old people. Way too fun and expensive for you. You’ll go wherever the state tells you.

Another thing that has kept me busy this summer is my recent purchase of an Alexa that I put in our kitchen. Our radio went out and I thought we needed an upgrade so I bought an Alexa for the house. After I set it up I hosted a training session for the Boomers, showing them how to use it and all the features it has. Since then my Dad has been shouting commands at her, to which the device ignores because he keeps calling the thing “Siri” and not “Alexa.”

Dad: (Leans down and places face about an inch from Alexa and shouts) SIRI! HOW MUCH DOES A CSX HEAVY WEIGH?
Me: Dad, a couple things: 1. It’s not Siri it’s Alexa, 2. you do not need to shout and lean in so close to the thing 3. I highly doubt she knows much about freight trains.
Dad: Ahh see she’s not that smart then if she can’t even tell me how much a CSX Heavy weighs, is she? But I know you can tell me, Kathleen.
Me: Yes, I know this only because you’ve ingrained it in my brain since I was about two years old. It weighs 216 tons.

My mom is the opposite when it comes to the Alexa. She will be in different rooms whispering with her hand covering her mouth so that the Alexa doesn’t hear her, acting like she’s a prisoner that doesn’t want a guard to hear her escape plan.

Mom: (Said in whisper voice from the family room) Kathleen, I have a question about you know who (pointing to Alexa in the kitchen) but I don’t want to say her name and accidentally turn her on!

The Baby Boomers are still getting used to the smart TV and having Alexa as another “roommate.” But I’m confident once I can properly train them on using these things they’ll learn to enjoy them. It’s a lot of work taking care of my Baby Boomers but they are worth it! Yup, it might have been a busy June, but summertime living is always easy with Mike and Mo!

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Me being the backbone of the household while the two drunks behind me enjoy another Twisted Tea.

 

Dad, the Washing Machine’s Broken

A few weeks ago, I opened the washing machine to switch my laundry into the dryer only to discover that my clothes were still soaking wet because the washer didn’t properly drain all the water out! Like any tenant would do, I immediately informed my landlord of this terrible inconvenience. “DADDDDDDDDD! THE WASHING MACHINE IS BROKEN!” I yelled from the basement. He quickly came down the stairs to check it out. “Yup, I noticed this happening when I did laundry yesterday,” He said. “I’m going to have to call the repair man. Until then you’ll have to wring out your clothes by hand over the laundry tub.” “Ughhhhh that’s so annoying! Wring my clothes out? What am I, a pioneer woman? That’s so much work, and it will hurt my wrists!” I responded. “Well maybe if you weren’t such a weakling it wouldn’t hurt your wrists so much.” He said. “You’re like a little infant. Here move aside, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

As my Dad wrung my clothes out over the laundry tub and I looked on, offering no help at all, he told me tales of when he was growing up and how they had to use some sort of contraption to wring their clothes out. Naturally I had no idea what he was talking about, as I was born in the 1990s and not the 1700s, which is apparently when my father was born. “Now, did you use this laundry contraption thing before or after you finished churning the butter?” I asked. In a mocking tone my dad responded, “Ohhh I’m Kathleen and I have a witty comment for everything.”

A few days later the repair man came and delivered the devastating news to my parents-they needed a new washing machine. My parents were very upset by this. My sister Jane (my other sibling living at home) and I were not surprised though as that washing machine was older than we are. We were actually quite pleased to finally have a washing machine that was made in this century. As the days passed though, there was no sign of our landlords replacing the washing machine anytime soon. Finally Jane brought it up at dinner one night.

Jane: What’s going on with the washing machine? When are we getting a new one?
(Jane and I often used the term “WE” when talking about home maintenance/repair projects when really we do not plan to have anything to do with the task.)
Me: Yeah, I put in a work order for a new washing machine like weeks ago and have heard nothing back on the status of my request from my landlords.
Mom (Said with irritation in her voice): Ugh, Yeah I need to pick a day to go out and look for one. What I definitely don’t want is one of those awful ‘Energy Efficient’ ones that they have now. Have you girls ever used one of those?
Me & Jane: I don’t know, probably when we were away at college.
Mom (Even more irritation in her voice): UGH, THEY ARE TERRIBLE! First, the water will only start to fill up the machine once you close the lid. Then, the water just BARELY covers the laundry that’s in the machine….

At this point Jane and I waited patiently as my mom paused her story for dramatic emphasis, looking each of us directly in the eyes, making sure what she just said about the water level in new washing machines had resignated with us.

Me: Ok got, it, energy efficient ones don’t use as much water. Please continue your story.
Mom: So it’s like there’s not enough water to let the clothes soak in! I mean do your clothes even get clean then?!

At this point we realize the amount of hate our mother has for energy efficient appliances and regretted even bringing up the topic of a new washing machine. We wished we could take it back, but by then it was too late. We set something off in her, and now she was on a tirade listing off other things that bother her. She covered specifics on just about every topic you could imagine-from baby and bridal showers to birthday cards, canoe trips, grocery stores and more. It was as if this tiny woman was letting out 63 years of anger and frustration. We we shocked by some of it but I can’t say I’m surprised that my mom hates energy efficient appliances though. She’s a Baby Boomer so I’m sure the urge to use up the earth’s precious resources like water, leaving hardly anything for future generations, comes naturally to her.

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The foe wood at the top really gives it a homey, “Cabin in the woods” type feel.

Once my mom finished, our washing machine conversation continued.

Dad: Mo, how long do you think we’ve had that washing machine? 30 years or so?
Me: Judging by the foe wood on the washer, I’d say close to 35 years. I hear that style was popular back in the 80s.
Dad (said defensively): That was a damn good washing machine! They don’t make machines like that anymore. It’s too bad we have to get rid of it!

One of the things I’ve learned about my Dad in the 27 years that I’ve known him is that he has emotional attachments to appliances and furniture. A word of advice to the public: Don’t EVER say anything bad about his vacuum. I mean the thing is absolutely awful-it’s heavy, hard to push on carpeting and makes the house smell every time it’s used. Not to mention that it looks like it was made in the 1920s. It might have been Hoover’s very first vacuum model. But for some reason my Dad thinks it’s the best thing ever made.

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You may have seen this exact photo in your history book.

Although we had a wonderful conversation about getting a new washing machine, as of today we still don’t have a new one. According to the Baby Boomers, if you put your laundry on a certain water level and certain spin cycle and turn the button while the machine is in the middle of the spin cycle, it works just fine. So this machine may just stick around for a few more years.

While my Landlords may get a D- in the appliance category, they get an A+ in all the other amenities they provide their tenants-Mike Sr. provides us donuts, cookies and cupcakes on the reg and Mo still makes dinner for her kiddos from time to time. The portions she feeds us would leave even Thumbelina with hunger pains, but we appreciate the meals nonetheless. AND most recently, they switched from Kleenex brand tissues to Puffs Plus! My nose never felt so soft!

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Real adults eat smiley face cookies.

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On special occasions she’ll let us have butter on our toast.

I better start working on my wrist strengthening exercises, because I may be wringing out my clothes for a little while longer. New washing machine or not, Mike and Mo are still the best landlords around.

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Photo taken the day I signed my first leasing agreement with the landlords. The three people to the right served as notaries/witnesses. Also super embarrassing that everyone can see my weight listed here. I should have blocked that out, I was still working off some of that weight I gained in the womb.

Just Me and the Boomers

Now that fall is here, and my sister is back at school, things are back to normal at the ol’ Ma and Pa Kelly boarding house. Just me and the baby boomers again. Which is probably a good thing because I was starting to feel neglected with my other siblings being home again. There was even one day during the summer where I suspected my mother had made a sandwich for my sister (the youngest) to take to work and not me. If she thought she could get away with this, she had another thing coming. I’m a middle child so obviously I’m going to take every chance I can get to call out a parent on being unfair. Middle children look out for number one-ourselves. To confirm my suspicions I texted my sister and once I had my answer, I texted my mom about the situation. Below is her BS response:

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I think my greatest and most rewarding accomplishment in life has been downloading the emoji keyboard on my Mom’s phone and teaching her how to use them.

I thought this incident required further discussion in order to successful repair our roommate relationship, so I confronted her about it when I got home from work. I asked her if she remembered the story in the Bible about the Prodigal Son. But, being a typical Catholic, she needed a bit of a refresher on it since she probably hadn’t picked up a bible since her 8th grade confirmation.  I explained to her how my sister, Jane, home from college, was like the Prodigal son (prodigal daughter in this case) and how I felt like the other son in the story who was out working in the field while they slaughtered the fattest calf in celebration of the Prodigal Son’s return. I can especially relate to the other son because my Dad sometimes makes me pick up sticks from our lawn, which is similar to working in a field. After my mom fully understood the parallels between the the two stories, she quickly apologized. While I told her it would take her a while to earn back my trust, I did forgive her, because that’s what roommates do.

While my roommates sometimes make mistakes, they really are quite enjoyable to live with. I really have gotten the chance to understand the Baby Boomer generation more and they are an interesting breed. After living with and studying them so long, I feel as though I could write a whole thesis paper on Baby Boomers. Here are a few things I’ve learned:

First off, they never cease to entertain me. Mike and Mo really make me laugh sometimes. I’m not sure if they actually mean to, or if it’s just our generation gap. For example, about a year ago, my mom came home very excited to show me her newest purchase, which was a measuring cup. When she took it out of the bag I started dying laughing. “What is the point of that?!” (Please see picture below).

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Mo’s favorite measuring cup

At first glance, you might think, oh that’s just your average measuring cup. But let me give a little perspective in the next photo of this measuring cup.

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It’s actually the tiniest measuring cup in America

Mom: Why are you laughing so hard?
Me:  Is that measuring cup for Thumbelina? We are never going to use that. That’s too funny! It’s cute though.
Mom: Oh, you little smart ass! It’s a teaspoon and tablespoon measuring cup! And I will too use it.
Me: I just don’t get the point of it, we already have teaspoons and tablespoons.
Mom: Well you just wait and see. You’ll probably be asking me to borrow it pretty soon!

Well, needless to say I was right and it has hardly ever been used, it just sits in the cabinet collecting dust and taking up space. After about ten months my mom did use it once and she was sure to let me and my dad know. “Just so everyone knows, I am using my little handy measuring cup here!” And that was the last time she ever used it. Also, for the record, I have never asked to borrow it either.

Another thing my mom is pretty funny about is where we keep the coozies. The other day I went to grab one from the cabinet in the kitchen to use for my Diet Coke so my hands didn’t get cold (I have poor circulation-cold hands warm heart) and they were no where to be found.

Me: Mom! Did you move the coozies again?!
Mom: Ugh, yes, I just couldn’t stand where they were in that cabinet! I’m just having a hard time finding a good place for them now with this new kitchen!
(editor’s note: We redid our kitchen 3 1/2 years ago, also the cabinet layout did not change so I struggle to understand why she is having trouble finding a place for them)
Me: Ok well where are they now? That’s about the 17th time you’ve moved them.
Mom: I know, and I may move them again. They are in the pantry for now but I don’t really like that spot either.

It’s been about a month since that move. I think that’s the longest the coozies have been in one location since the “new” kitchen. I will update everyone on where they end up next month.

The second thing I learned is they can sometimes be forgetful. Mike and Mo have taught me a lot about patience in their older years. Stories they tell while we are sitting down to dinner can sometimes take a little longer than they used to. Here is a typical dinner conversation for the three of us:

Dad: So Kathleen, I meant to tell you, I was downtown having lunch with some customers last week at….. (pause) at…. (pause again) oh Hell! What was the name of that restaurant? Mo, what was it called?
Mom: I’m not sure what restaurant you’re talking about, sweetie.
Dad: Yea, you’d know it, remember we went there a couple of years ago for dinner, we took your mom and it was a hassle to get to because they had that street blocked off due to that damn festival.
Mom: Oh, oh, oh, yes I know what you’re talking about but I’m blanking on the name. All right hold on let me think for a second. (stops eating to look up at the ceiling and think for a while) Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse?
Dad: Nah that wasn’t it. (looks up at the ceiling and thinks about it some more while mumbling off some names he thinks it might be close to )
Mom: What street is it on again? I can picture the outside of it I just can’t think of the name.
Dad: Oh Hell! It’s on the tip of my tongue why can’t I think of it?!
Mom: Blackie’s? Petterino’s?
Me: Excuse me, but is the name of the restaurant at all relevant to the actual point of the story? Because if it’s not I really  think we should just move on. I will be OK if I don’t know the name of the restaurant you ate at. I have to be at work tomorrow at 7:30 a.m. so if you could try and wrap up this story before then, that would be great.

After about what seems like 6 hours, my dad finally did remember the name of the restaurant. And no, it was not pertinent to the point of the story in the least bit.

Another thing I’ve learned from Mike and Mo is to be patient with Baby Boomers on anything relating to technology. Teaching them to download a picture from an email, copying and pasting, or helping them change a setting on their phone is a daily occurrence in our house. The other day I was helping my mom attach a few pictures to an email she was sending to her siblings. Neither of us was in the teaching/learning mood so I finally just took her computer and did it for her. Once I was done I gave her laptop back to her so she could write what she wanted in the email and I swear her fingers could not have been on the keyboard more than 2 seconds when I hear her say “Oh, uh-oh. Something just happened. I don’t know what I did but I must have hit something and the email is gone.” I couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor thing as she looked up at me, reading glasses on the tip of her nose, eyes wide in panic.She was in a total state of shock and confusion. Sure enough, she had somehow managed to reek havoc in the two seconds she had her computer back-erasing the email and closing out all her open tabs. We both had a good laugh and then I reattached the pictures to the email for her because we both didn’t want to be up for another 3 hours if I let my mom try it for herself.

The third and final thing that I have learned are Baby Boomers are creatures of habit. Mike and Mo like to do almost the same thing every weekend: On Saturday they go to lunch at Pappy’s, then 4:30 mass (sitting in the same section) and then they watch episodes of this super old show that’s in black and white called Perry Mason while eating ice cream. Since Baby Boomers are so inclusive, they always invite me to join to which I flat out deny

Dad: Kathleen, would you like to stay in tonight and watch Perry Mason with us?
Me: Oh thanks but as extremely boring as that sounds I’m going to have to take a pass. I’m actually going to the north side tonight so I’ll see you guys tomorrow.
Dad: Oh! Mo, how about that! Kathleen “North Side” Kelly is abandoning us yet again! She only lives with us during the week and then we are lucky if we see her at all on the weekends. Last weekend I was about to put your face on a milk carton we hadn’t seen you in so long.
Me: Dad, you KNOW if I don’t go out on the weekends I get irritable. This time apart is good for all of us. Distance makes the heart grow founder! And don’t be so dramatic, I’ll be back in time tomorrow for you to pay for my lunch at Pappy’s.

Since I always follow through on my promises, I made it back on the south side just in time to get lunch with the Baby Boomers. And it was delicious. For some reason free food just always tastes better than food you buy yourself.

Yes, I have learned a lot about the Baby Boomer generation since living with Mike and Mo, as I’m sure they’ve learned a lot about Millennials-hopefully that we’re not as bad as people think we are! So cheers to you Mike and Mo, thanks for continuing to teach me new things every day and keeping me entertained!

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This vacation was crazy. We all had so many Diet Cokes that day none of us even remember taking this picture.

 

Summer of ’16

The Labor Day holiday is both exciting and depressing. It’s nice to have a long weekend but sad knowing that it’s the end of summer and that winter is coming. Woof. As I look back at my summer I can’t help but smile thinking about all the fun things that happened. And surprisingly I only got 3 major sunburns! My lowest in probably ten years.

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Spent the rest of the summer trying to even out that farmer’s tan.

The summer was off to a rather interesting start as we found some unusual guests that had taken up residency in our garage. I discovered them when I was being a good child/tenant and went to take the garbage out. I opened the garage to grab something and there they were. I didn’t know what to do but I knew they couldn’t stay. There is only room for one freeloader in this household and that’s me. Get your own nest, birds, this nest is taken. After I was finished trash talking to the birds about being in my territory I texted my roommates to see what I should do.

Bird text

I was a little scared when I saw my mom’s response to my text. “I’ll take care of it”? What does that mean? Is she the Terminator or something? Was she planning on shooting them Old Yeller style? I mean I definitely wanted the birds out of the house but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt here. I was also surprised because Mo loves her birds. I can’t imagine she would do anything to injure them.

Well, luckily Mo didn’t do anything to hurt them. And we let them stay in the garage for a while. In fact, we bent over backwards for them. We made sure the garage was left open so they could get some air flow and give their deadbeat mother the chance to come back if she wanted to do the right thing. Do you know how risky it was for me to leave the garage open? I have a 12 speed bike in there and a pogo stick, both could have easily been stolen. I never once heard a thank you from those birds. My mom grew extremely concerned for the birds’ well being and would text us with updates throughout the day on the birds. It must be her motherly instinct that kicked in and wanted to protect them. I’m a middle child so I wasn’t overly concerned for them but I did try to give them water and some food. I was pretty proud of myself so I told my mom, only to get a harsh reply.

Me: How are the birds doing, Mom? Did you see I put out some water and sunflower seeds for them? Just call me Saint Francis of Assisi, I’m so good to all animals.
Mom (in a harsh, snippy tone): Oh yes, I saw that. The seeds you put out were definitely too big, they can’t eat those. I’m actually worried they might choke on them. I may run out and get some proper birdseed for them later.
Me: We’ll SORRY! We can’t all be bird experts! Judge me!

I only want her approval! Why won’t she love me?!

Bird text 2

Nothing like a dead bird text to ruin your day.

Sadly, I think both birds died. They kind of just disappeared one day. All that was left of their little nest in the garage were a few feathers and those gigantic sunflower seeds I maliciously put out to sabotage them, or so my mom thought.

After the trauma of the whole bird saga I felt I needed to get away for a while and collect my thoughts. It was perfect timing because I was scheduled to go on my first ever business trip! It’s really no big deal, I was just a business woman going on a business trip. I thought about buying a briefcase just for the occasion but last minute decided against it and just used my trusty Jansport backpack. (I’ve had my Jansport since fourth grade. Mo spurged and got me one with the leather bottom, they have a lifetime warranty. They don’t make backpacks like that anymore.)Let me tell you, business trips are awesome. I finally was able to put that business degree to good use. I felt super grown up too until the friends I made on the plane asked me what high school I went to. Only a small hiccup though, they were nice people. One of my new friends even carried my bag through the plane and put it in the top bin for me. Now that is service! We swapped business stories and we ended up being on the same plane home as well!

Once we landed I headed right for me hotel which was super nice. I was so impressed I took a picture of the lobby to send to my mom.

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To answer your question, yes, those palm trees are real.

I had never stayed in a hotel by myself before but it was great, definitely going to try and do that again. I didn’t have to share the small bottles of shampoo and conditioner with anyone, I could use as much as I wanted. AND I was able to use two towels after getting out of the shower, one for my hair and one for my body. But the best part was the bed. I had an entire king size bed to myself! Do you know how many times I was able to roll over without falling off the bed? 6 flips, 3 full rolls. Since I have a twin bed at home I was initially shocked with the amount of room I had. I felt like a fish going from a fish bowl to an entire ocean. The conference I attended was great too, learned a lot.

As many business people know, the world doesn’t stop for a business woman, you just have to keep on going. Right after getting back from my business trip it was time for a leisure trip to Michigan with my family. My brother and I like to refer to it as the “Vienna Beef Hot Dogs trip.” You see, most of my family was already up in Michigan but my brother and I had to work so we drove up a few days later. You would think my parents would be excited about us coming up but apparently they were more concerned about us bringing up Vienna Beef hot dogs. I guess the grocery store in Michigan didn’t carry them and they already had the buns and didn’t want them to go stale.  The amount of calls, voicemails and texts my brother Michael and I received from my parents regarding the hot dogs was comical. If the hot dogs could have driven themselves up to Michigan, I’m sure my parents would have preferred that.

Hot dogs

We were worried we’d be removed from the will if we forgot the hot dogs.

Once the hot dogs had arrived safe and sound, everyone was able to finally relax and enjoy themselves. We had lots of laughs, hung out on the boat and ate a lot of food. We even tried to take a nice family picture but Duke had other plans

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Apparently Duke did not want my mom in the picture.

Let’s zoom in a little closer, shall we?

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Duke claims there was a mosquito he was hitting on Mo’s face, but we didn’t believe him. Had he had thumbs he could have done some serious facial damage. He was in the dog house after that stunt he pulled. Pun 100% intended.

As summer usually goes, it went by way too quickly. I swear I did some other important stuff this summer, but these were the highlights.  Fall has some big shoes to feel, because the summer of ’16 was one for the books.

 

Tech Girl Here

A couple of weeks ago something happened to my roommates and me that was extremely traumatic. It really made us stop and think about what was really important in our lives. Mo and I had just plopped on the couch to watch the episode of Chicago Med I had recorded a few days prior. We both had our Diet Cokes in hand, and I was ready with my chips and salsa. But when I hit the “recorded tv” button on the remote an error message came up. Yes, our DVR had malfunctioned and was not working. I tried to remain calm and assured my mom that it was probably just something with our WiFi and after I reset the DVR box it should come back on. Unfortunately, the reset did not help and our shows were still missing. “Give it some time, they will come back, these things just take time.” I said to my mom. Looking back now I’m not sure if I was trying to reassure my mother or myself, for I did not know if our favorite recorded shows would really return. About 45 minutes later my dad yelled up to me from where he was watching tv in the basement. I could immediately detect the fear in his voice when he told me he tried to watch his recording of The O’Reilly Factor and it would not work. “Everyone just remain calm!” I shouted. With my adrenaline pumping I went around to every tv in the house and reset every single DVR box. After all my efforts our recorded shows still did not come back. To make matters worse, our scheduled recordings did not record either.

Exhaustion had set in and I told my parents I needed to get some rest and that I would try again in the morning. Sadly, I could not sleep. How could I knowing that Mike was going to miss this week’s episode of Ice Road Truckers or that Mo would have to sit through the commercials when she watched Dateline or Forensic Files?! Plus Mo and I had so many Inside Editions to catch up on and we like to be caught up before we start watching the nest week’s episodes. But would our DVR be back working to record next week’s episodes? I knew I had to do something, and fast.

The next morning I woke up bright and early and got on the phone with AT&T. After over an hour of waiting to speak to an actual person, I was able to have a technician fix the problem over the phone. Our DVR was finally working again and all of our shows were restored. I was relieved but also felt like I needed a mimosa or something with alcohol in it after that stressful situation.

I really don’t think people quite understand the stresses that come with living with Baby Boomers. You have to be available for tech support 24/7. It is a responsibility only a select few can handle. Luckily, I am one of them and have taken a vow to help my parents with whatever they need in return for them keeping me from becoming homeless.

My father can be a bit of a disgruntled customer when I try to help him. He usually gets mad at me when I try to help him on his computer, claiming I was going too fast. “Wait a minute how the hell did you do that?! You are going to fast! You can’t just go beep bop zip on the keyboard so quickly and expect me to keep up!” I remember he became a little upset when I was teaching him how to use his new iphone. I was showing him how to check the weather when he quickly grabbed the phone from me and said in a loud voice “No! Don’t show me that! You’ll just confuse me! All I want to know is how to make a phone call and check my email! I was happy with my Blackberry but my company forced me to switch over to this stupid thing!” “Well Dad,” I said in a calm voice, “It’s not 2006 anymore, no one has a Blackberry now so you will just have to learn to use your new iphone.”

He also was not very happy when he bought his new car which had a touch screen for the radio. I feel bad for the guy, the car has way too many features for him to handle, not very Baby Boomer friendly. I programmed his radio stations but he just cannot get used to the touch screen. A couple of weeks ago the three of us were driving in my Dad’s car (which was a surprise in itself that his car was actually out of the garage) and my two roomies were trying to figure out how to change the station. I tried to walk them through how to do it but the touch screen was an obstacle they were struggling to get over. I was dying laughing in the back seat it was so comical. Fortunately I was able to compose myself long enough to snap this picture.

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“They put too many damn bells and whistle in cars now a days! Is it too much to ask to just have a simple radio?!”~Mike

My mom is a bit more delightful to work with when I am trying to help her with her tech problems. But I can’t start to explain anything to her until she has her reading glasses perfectly positioned at the end of her nose. She loves to use phrases like “I have to start write these directions down.” or “Over Christmas break I want to hire you to show me how to use my itunes so I can upload the songs myself.” All empty promises of course but I know she means well. I still have nightmares from when I helped her scan pictures for the scrapbook she made for my sister. There was always one more picture that needed to be scanned. I was starting to think she was taking more pictures just to make me scan them. We did do a great job on that scrapbook though, it came out beautifully.

Many parents don’t know how much their kids worry about their future when it comes to using any sort of technology. I often find myself worrying about what my parents will do when I (hopefully) move out of their house. What if they want to watch a DVD and I’m not there to help them pop it in? What if one of them needs to send a picture via text?! Or copy and paste something and I am not around to show them?! I am trying to teach them as much as I can so they will be able to survive when I am gone. Being the house tech girl is a big job but I am happy to do it. Anything for my two best betches 😉

Mom and Dad

Me and my betches. Family by chance, roommates by choice-well maybe not their choice.