One Trump Card Down, 742 Remain

Yes, this pertains to the "Trump Card Theory" I so eloquently spelled out in the beginning of this blog. Oddly enough, this theory has manifested itself in many ways since that entry, and for the most part, it has worked in my favor.

For those of you who know me, I have issues asking for things. Whether it be for help, advice, a material object, whatever. I hate to be a burden to anyone and also don't like being told "no" or "I can't," so unless it's absolutely necessary, I'm pretty much handle things on my own.

Several weeks ago, I began searching for a condo. I'm not sure why as I'm perfectly happy where I am, but something in the back of my mind told me to investigate. I wasn't searching for anything crazy; 2 bedrooms, a garage, and a kitchen that I could actually cook in were top on my priority list.

One weekend, I found a condo that suited my needs and more. It was a little out of my price range, but I kept coming back to it. I met with a mortgage broker, sat down and priced it out and was pretty much ready to move forward-- Except for one thing; I needed my mom. This was the biggest step, most responsibility, highest risk decision I have ever made, and I didn't want to tread lightly. I tend to live life between the lines... consistent, steady, always stable and prepared if the bottom should ever drop out. Boring?- Perhaps, but for those of you who know me, my life is ANYTHING but boring.

So that Saturday afternoon, I called my mother... I strategically prepped her; attempting to detect her mood, her sense of adventure, and utilizing her new-found spontaneity since the passing of my father. I caught her at a great time as she had just spent the afternoon giggling through stores and errands with one of her best friends.

I dropped the bomb and requested she come down for the day on Sunday and head back on Sunday night- A 2 hr trip each way, no church, and no time to plan for Monday's school lessons. She quickly dismissed this saying she had too much to do, that she had NO experience in purchasing homes, and that since our tastes were similar, of course she would love it.

Instead of listing the reasons why I would like her present. I went straight for jugular, laying out the mac daddy of all trump cards. Though I will tell you I softened the blow by warning her it was coming... It went like this:

"Now Mom, I understand this is short notice, and I know you don't like making the trip in one day, but I have one thing to say, and it's big..."
"What is it, Erin?"
"You do a day trip for your grandchildren all the time, (for their b-days, baptisms, etc.) why won't you do it for me?"

----SILENCE, crickets chirping-----

Soon came laughter and then "OH YOU CREEP!" (An expression typically saved for my brother.) "You played the grand kid card!!!" More laughter came from my mother's mouth and I knew I had her convinced. She was coming.

The day actually worked out perfectly although I opted not to purchase this condo. Good friends of my mom were also in town that weekend and they met us up at the condo and went through it with me.

I currently am in contract in another condo community, but my mother has yet to see it. I made her promise though to help me pick out cabinets, flooring, and other features "at some point" this summer.....

Park the Car Ya Old Bag

It's funny, I'm the one in the family who has the reputation of being blunt, overly candid, and at times, inappropriately outspoken. The above statement however, did not come from my lips, but that of my sensitive, mild-mannered older brother, who is also the favorite. Who on earth would he say this to you ask? Why the Queen Supreme, Lady Margaret, aka my mother.

We took a family trip to Oglebay Park where we all reunited to celebrate my father by spreading his ashes where he grew up as a child. On the first night there, we decided to go up to the lodge and have the children burn up some energy in the indoor pool. My mother and sister drove separately while the kids, Matt, Julie and myself piled into the "Sport Van." (Keep in mind Sport Van = Mini Van.) As we pull into the parking lot, we see my mother's car up ahead stopped in the aisle, right across from the entrance. This is a PREMIUM parking spot. My brother, in his ultimate orneriness, sped up and crouched right up on my mom's bumper. We see this beautiful parking spot we assume my mother is trying to take. But she's not, she's just sitting there. After about 15 seconds, Matt rolls down the window and shouts, "Park the car you old bag!" Assuming my mom knew he was behind her. With that my mom sped off. I chastised my brother saying there's a special spot in hell for children who call their mothers old bags and make them pass up a good parking spots. He argued that wasn't what he was trying to do, and that Mags is just so kind-hearted, she realized that Matt has 3 kids, a slew of toys and gave up the parking spot out of consideration and love for her family.

Fast forward 3 hrs later. We have all had a round in the pool, the kids are tired, and it's time to head back to the cabin. My mother has sat on a chair holding Maggie and staring off into space at times and then staring straight ahead at this man from across the pool. She is not smiling. My mother is not a vain woman, but her Achilles heel is age. She will forever be perfectly coiffed, nails painted and immaculately dressed until her last breath. Never a grandma but "Nana" b/c it sounds less old. If you ever want to insult her just call her old and sit back and watch the rage.

So my brother while drying off, casually says to my mom, "Hey thanks for giving me that parking spot, I didn't mean to make you do that." With that, my mother's legs came uncrossed and she stood straight up and said, "That was you!?" She was incredulous, shocked and speechless. My brother, also surprised, asked, "Well who do you think it was? Didn't you see the red sport van w/ your smiling son and daughter sitting in the front seat?" We are all laughing now, as my mom said no, she didn't realize it was us and had been spending the entire evening thinking it was the man sitting on the other side of the pool. She was indignant that a stranger would say something like that to her especially at a place like Oglebay and pondered how he would've been able to see if she was "old" since she was in her car and shout came from behind her! It ruined her evening!

We continued to laugh and she explained the reason she sped off is because she overshot the parking space and was trying to reverse to get into it. Since my brother had come up so close behind her, she was unable to do so, and thus could not park the car.

We reassured my mother, advising her that she indeed was not, nor ever will be an old bag... But it does make you wonder how she didn't see her smiling children in the rear view mirror....

Crying Over Spilled Milk... Literally

I dedicate this post to my sister Tracy, as in her comments from my last posting inspired this topic.

The "Great Salad Debacle" of Memorial Day, 2008 was proceeded by the "Incident of the Spilled Milk" in the winter of 2004.

It was my first apartment by myself. I had lived with my brother after graduating and then with roommates. In the summer of 2003, I decided I wanted a place on my own. I had a good job and felt ready for this step. What I didn't account for was the numerous weddings, babies, bridal showers, bachlorette parties and baby showers I would become inundated with in late 2003 and into 2004. I choose to believe I went into debt due to the life events of my friends rather than because I bought too many Coach purses that year, but I'm sure it's a combination of both.

In early 2004 it was freezing. I couldn't keep my apt above 67 without it running constantly, so I had an electric blanket on my couch. I was struggling, but I never really let on how much. I made enough to cover my expenses, but was in a holding pattern when it came to paying down my debt. I knew down to the cent how much money I had to spend on groceries, car payment and bills and I lived very frugally in order to continue to pay down my consumer debt.

My brother often visited me at my apartment. I love him to death, but the boy is a human trash compacter when it comes to scarfing down food. He ravenous. On this particular day, he walked into my house, said hi, hugged me and announced he was hungry. I had 1/4 of a cup of milk left which I specifically reserved for the food I was preparing that week. Matt walked into my kitchen, grabbed a bowl proceeded to prepare a bowl of cereal. I asked him not to drink my milk--- that there wasn't enough for a bowl of cereal and that I needed the milk for the rest of the week. My brother thought I was kidding. I mean seriously, it was a 1/2 gallon container of milk... not something to break the bank. He ignored me, made his cereal, laughed when there wasn't enough milk, brushed past me, sat on my couch, turned on my TV, and ate his cereal!

Words cannot describe my rage in this scenario. I thought to myself, this son of a bitch strolls into MY house, Disregards MY wishes, eats MY food, on MY couch, watching MY TV!!! I felt disrespected and indignant that my sentiments could be brushed aside so easily. Without a word, I grabbed my keys and left, knowing if I stayed I would lose my control. I drove around and calmed myself down. Upon returning to my apartment, my brother realized that I didn't just take out the trash, I had left. Therefore, he left, too and was gone by the time I returned.

I received an angry phone call from him about leaving him in my apartment without saying anything. I laid into him... Tears streaming and all. I swear, my poor brother couldn't get past the part about arguing over milk. I kept saying, "Matt forget the milk. It's not the milk... It's what the milk REPRESENTS" So then he tried to determine what led up to this. Is it that time of the month, am I fighting with Mom, is everything OK at work? I got more and more upset, thinking "No, you idiot, I'm upset with YOU coming in to MY house and acting like YOU OWN IT..!

The fight eventually resolved. My brother came over the next week w/ a jug a milk to which I made wonderful tapioca pudding for us.

Now I'm more financially stable. I look forward to my brother's visits. I always keep a 12 pack of Diet Sunkist (I won't touch the stuff) for him as well as vitamin water and snackies. Hell, 2 days ago I gave him salad, a turkey bagel sandwich, 2 advil, vitamin water, AND sat through a 1/2 hour of BRAVEHEART.

I think i've grown.