Man versus ant

Good morning. I am sorry for not posting but something nasty hit ole BP mom and knocked her off her feet. In fact, I had my first cup of coffee in days today, which tells ya something or 5.....no happy hour this week...no Christmas cookies...just soup...crackers....tea...gingerale....yuk. My bathroom and I bonded over this experience....'nuf about me....

How is the big guy? Well, if I said that he is a man on a mission, what would you say? I think that you would agree....three days ago, he called in a panic....

"Mom, there are millions of ants in my apartment. It is disgusting...."



Uh huh. No surprise. I know his habits...left over wrappers on the floor....gator ade bottles left open....food on counters and at bedside. Dude, you are ant magnet. I am surprised that I have not heard the 'r' word (ie 'roach'). Nevertheless, he was dismayed.

Chuckling, I began a "Get rid of ants" tutorial from the coolness of my bathroom floor....

Picturing my lifeless body on the tile of the bathroom which cooled the heat that was emitting from the BP ma body, I had the phone propped on my ear.....I sounded a bit like Don and Sonny Corleone in the Godfather.....

"My son.....

Don Corleone: You can act like a man!
[gives a quick slap to the Big Lefty]

Don Corleone: What's the matter with you? Is this how you turn out, a Hollywood finocchio that cries like a woman? "Oh, what can I do? What can I do?" What is that nonsense? Ridiculous!

Sonny Corleone: [laughing] What are you gonna do? Nice college boy

Back to the ants....get cinnamon and sprinkle it around the entrance point.....kill the )&#%.  Get rid of the food sources...tah dah...you are ant free.....

That advice was given three days ago....sadly, there were 'millions and millions of ants'! Doesn't it sound like a horror film?

"They are everywhere!"

Ok, this means you have to clean the apartment. The definition of 'clean' according to Websters Dictionary is:

as a verb:

make (something or someone) free of dirt, marks, or mess, especially by washing, wiping, or brushing.

"clean your teeth properly after meals"

synonyms:

wash, cleanse, wipe, sponge, scrub, mop, rinse, scour, swab, hose down, sluice (down), disinfect; More

 I also mentioned that the word 'clean' is a noun and adjective. And so, the tutorial continued.....

"Go online and look up safe remedies to exterminate ants....like vinegar and water...."

And so, the man was on a mission as he exterminated and annihilated the little critters.  Hey, he invited them into his apartment for dinner. Leaving food out and on the counters is an invitation to stop by unexpectedly.

And now, it is day three of ants in my pants and they continue to work their way into his world.



This morning he shared the fact that he 'cleaned' the apartment with vinegar and water and now it smells....he is working on eliminating the entire ant population out of spite.

And with that said, I lie back on my tile floor and smile...


It can be said that sending a child to live at college makes them grow up in a way that would not happen if they lived at home. And this sentiment is absolutely true. My son has not only learned how to write but kill ants....and best yet....clean his environment.

I think that I can place my head on the tile, cool down, and enjoy the fact that this expensive college experience has been worth the angst and agony over the past 5 years. My parting words to him were: "If I find one ant in your bedroom, you will be on notice......"

And now....back to my sweats and chills....Tink asked me last night if I got a new hair cut. "No, Tink, I have not brushed my hair in a few days....like the new look?"

I'm in a stupor ...signing out....

Peace

Whining, whining, whining

Ok, it's official. I am being driven to the brink of madness by two little pups. Why? Wellll......

My new little divas (yeah, one is a male) has their 'surgeries' on Monday. Given a clean bill of health with a new life of never reproducing (like the 19 great Dane puppies in York, PA), these lil dogs were sent home with pain medication and head cones. Did I say head cones? Yep.....What drives a puppy crazy?


I suppose it is the inability to take naps, cuddle with their sibling, run around the back yard, and be playful. What does the surgeon recommend? Head cone for ten to fourteen days, isolation from their beloved sibling, and rest. The head cone is driving them nuts as well as not being able to run. So, what do they do?



They whine....and whine....and whine....and whine some more. They whine during the morning. They whine during the afternoon. They whine in the evening and during the night. In fact, it is non-stop whining....24/7...like CNN...all news....all the time....in the BP mom household it is WNN AKA Whining News Network....Whining 24/7.

Last night as I returned home from my 12+ hour marathon teaching day, the pups were whining. After a walk and some food and pain medicine, they were placed in their separate crates and proceeded to whine all night. Tink took them out at 2 am. I took the 3 am and 6 am outings. They just cannot get comfortable. At midnight, I asked dad to turn off the television.



"Can't. It's drowning out the whining,"



Nice...so I am listening to reruns of the King of Queens where Carrie acts as a mentor to a troubled teen and Doug's truck gets stuck at a fast food drive through with the whining in the background. Let's say, not a pleasant night.



And now, Tink and dad are leaving for a few days to travel south leaving me with the "woe is me" twins. I really feel for them, but the surgery had to be done. The cones have to be on their heads. They have to be separated. And now, I need pain medicine! Do you think that they will share?

This is tough, 'cause my Tink who is my right and left arms with the puppies will be gone. It's up to me and the dog walker to help the puppies get through to the weekend.

 'Cause when Tink returns, I am headed to the Motel 6 to get a few hours of uninterrupted, whine-free sleep. I wish that I could ignore it, but I love the little pups and they are telling me that they are in pain. If they are in pain, I am in pain. See how it works with me?

OK, on to the big kid who also has been whining in a distance.....this week is "Omaha" week where the team arrives at the field at 5 am and are run through a series of complex, rigorous drills, puke, then leave the stadium at 6:30 am and head to class. They hate this week as well as any other week where they train and do not play ball. Everyone despises it.



Guess what?

The Czar is not at Omaha week. He is away for the week cruising in the Caribbean. Yes, you read this correctly. He has delegated Omaha week to his minions and   is stuffing his face at the all you can eat shrimp bar on an ocean liner. Can anyone say: "Disengaged?"



Can anyone say: "Inappropriate?"

Can anyone say: "Sheesh?"

My BPM is as follows.....

WTH? That's right....WTH?  As a person who has coached, played sports, been the chair of an academic department twice, and holds a doctorate in leadership....I say (as the late, great John Pinette) would say: "Nay, nay!"

He expects the respect and regard of his players when he abandons them in minus ten degrees in the middle of the night for a week in the sun? Oh boy, he is not gaining fans on this team. In fact, this latest arrogant move may be his downfall as players and parents who may have supported him in the past are now disgusted.

Me? I have been disgusted for a year. My level of disgust does not fluctuate. It is clear that he and I do not see eye to eye. The only thing that I want from him is for him to give my son a fair shot. Aside from that, he can eat all of the shrimp on the boat.

Yikes! It's quiet downstairs. I better start grading before the whining begins again.

Peace!

Dugout mom

Good morning.....and what a morning it is...I believe that the allergies are catching up with me and I have a tissue in my nose...yeah...fun.....



And so, why have I titled this post "Dug out mom"....well.....fade to Monday night....

As you know, the big kid is not getting his props and has been relegated to the bench to "breathe". Yeah, that is what I said....breathe....as he breathes, he quietly plots his revenge.....or something like that. Would he talk with the coach? Nope...when he did, he was dropped in the depth chart.

With that said, I got an email around 7p on Monday night..."I'm starting tomorrow..."

Huh? You? Rodney Dangerfield of baseball? Mr. Deep Breathe and Focus? Mr. I Never Have to Wash My Uniform 'Cause It Is Never Dirty? Mr. I Get No Respect?

And so, he calls....oye! I was suddenly quite nervous for him. Excuse me, but did the coach tell you that you are starting the game?

Nope, Tonto heard it on the coach's radio show....Huh? Tonto is probably the only listener of the coach's show and the coach announces to his one listener that the big kid is starting. Sweet. Is he going to actually tell the big kid?

Now, you all know that Mr. Breath and Concentrate has been on the proverbial shelf for three weeks is still smarting from being told that he was ruined. How does he bounce back from this inactivity and humiliation? Oh, and by the way, they are set to play a national power house.

Now I get it....the coach figures that he has nothing to lose since they were going to lose anyway. He also burned through most of his pitchers over the weekend. Looking down the bench, he was set to sacrifice the big leftie. Clever....NOT!

As we chatted on Monday night, the kid mentioned that he had a big accounting test at 8 am and would probably not sleep.....

Tuesday:

Still no word from coach as to whether it was a rumor that he was going to start. Yes, here are the greatest communication skills that I have witnessed. When the coach speaks to my son, it is to insult him rather than share with him his plans to lead him to be slaughtered.

With a late morning phone call, it seems that Buddy bombed his accounting test. Oh joy, dad is going to be pleased with that one. He has also been vomiting since breakfast. Nerves, perhaps? Also, he had worked on leg presses on Monday not knowing that he was going to pitch (again, superb communication), and he did not sleep at all. This adds up to one or two things. One, he is doomed. Two, he will pitch the game of his life.

Around 3:30 pm (mind you, the game starts at 6:30p), he finds out that he is starting on the mound against a team that defeated Baylor, Duke, UNC, and so on. Sweet.

As Tink and I arrived at the stadium, we looked at the defensive line up...Geez! The coach put some of the "B" team in.....yes, there were a few of the typical starters in, but on the whole, these kids do not play...at all....ever....and now, they are in the line up against this big time team. Sheesh....clever coach...very cleaver. Is is seeking to humiliate his guys?

And so, Tink and I sat in the stadium. It was cold...windy....we had the camera, chap stick, cell phones, hand warmers, blankets, boots (no cheetah shoes yet, sorry BD), and rosaries. Yeah, Tink brought two in case I forgot mine. I could forget my mind, but not my rosary.

We sat and watched the big kid warm up. Our hearts were in our throats. My head was pounding...nose was drippy....camera in my hand....rosary in the hand with the hand warmers....I was freezing...nervous....my right leg shook.....I could not stop it. It shook from the cold and nerves. I could not even eat a dollar dog. My son was about to start his first college game against a team that eats left handed pitchers for breakfast. We sat.....prayed....watched....applauded.....mesmerized....I then started to perspire...wait! I was cold too.

Perspiring and shaking....I need a life....

First inning...Kid is throwing 85-87...pop up.....walk.....throwing error....stolen base.....run scored....0-1

The team came back and scored one run at the bottom of the first. Score 1-1.

Second inning....Kid throwing 86-88...two earned runs score. 1-3. Boo!  Looks like Tink and I were headed for the car soon. He won't stay in the game...or will he?

Third-Sixth inning: No runs scored. Velocity 88-90. One inning, he threw 4 pitches.....he was brilliant. Amazing....although we never stopped praying...and shaking...and perspiring...still no dollar dogs for us. Couldn't eat a thing....

Sixth inning...walked first batter on 4 pitches. Coach comes out of dug out. He is being yanked. All of the infielders and Big Red come to mound. Everyone is congratulating him. The stadium erupts. He receives a standing ovation as he leaves the field. It lasted for a bit. I could tell...he finally had his break out moment. As he left the field, he looked up at Tink and me and I swear, he tipped his hat to us. We shared such a wonderful moment just as we looked at each other. I could see in his eyes, the glow of accomplishment and his finally getting the chance that he craved. Last night, he was the man....

There is so much to tell now as the game came to a conclusion. He stood at the end of the dug out and looked again at us. His eyes were filled with such relief, I cannot properly describe what it felt like to see someone that you love so much finally achieve a hard fought for goal. It was magnificent....but still cold. So, I made the decision to leave. I knew that this was a huge moment for him. He needed to share it with his boys, the team, and not with his ma and sister.

With that said, we shook until we got to the car and turned on the radio to listen to the rest of the game. Finally, the game was over and the home team astonishingly won 8-4. Word has it that the opposing coach yelled at the players in the outfield for 45 minutes after the game.

When the big kid was taken from the game, the coach said to him: "I have never seen anything so great in my life."

Seriously? Huh? Dude, it has been in him since you got to town. This is just the start.....

Driving down the mountain, we finally got our phone call. "Where did you go? I wanted to celebrate with you. I have the game ball for you!" Huh? What? Me? Bullpen mom is going to receive the game ball? This time I needed more tissues but not for my allergies but because we had another honestly poignant moment. He knew that I knew what he had gone through. He did not quit. I would not allow it. All I could do is tell him to wait, it will happen. It is going to be worth the effort and wait. And is was....

He relayed the story that when he emerged from the locker room, there were 30 reporters with cameras and microphones to interview him. Questions went like this:

"Uh, you had a really bad season last year. This year looked to be just as bad. What happened?"

"Dude, what was going through your mind on the mound?"

"Everyone loved when you dove for the ball. Really cool..."

And so on....and on.....He did the politically correct thing...all of his answers reflected upon his coaches, defensive line up (remember, these guys were the second and third stringers), and offense. he was humble and self deprecating. I read two of the articles already and they are quite complementary.



Now what? he's a local hero....maybe national...after all, he defeated a team that has defeated Duke, UNC and so on.....

Well, back to work. He still does not have his internship lined up so that he can graduate and I will not let him off the hook. He also has to speak to his accounting professor to pull up his grade. Lastly, he must not let success go to his head. he must treat success and failure the same way.

Yet, I did say to him, "please, savor this moment. You earned it....Now move on."

As I hung up the phone, Tink and I continued on our journey stopping once for gas and a celebratory ice cream cone at one of those convenience stores along the turnpike. Life was good. Going to savor this one for a few more hours, wipe my nose, and go back to work.



Peace!

Pulling the plug

Good Monday morning! I hope that this week is a good one for all. The BPM family is mourning the possible loss of a dear family member....been in the family for 13 years and has been a reliable source of transportation for 176,000 miles. In human years, the car is 100 years old.

That's right....my pretty blue SUV that has been with me in joys and sorrows...ups and downs....mile after mile AND has never failed to start or get me to my destination. We have driven together up and down the east coast, to Ohi-ooo, West Virginia, through the mountains, and to the shore. On vacation, the comfort of the drive is similar to my own bed. My bottom had carved an indentation in the cushion and left a lasting imprint. Seriously, I love the car.

When it was time to pass it down to Buddy, I had a tear in my eye, but I knew that he loved it like I do...or did....It was in good hands. Although something happens when a car hits a certain age....the tires are worn, the tread is not as flexible, the paint begins to dull...sound familiar? Anyway, on Friday, Buddy was on his way to work and the care refused to continue....or actually, it could not. Finally, yes, finally, the car could no longer move. Only able to drive in low gear or go in reverse, dad took it on a journey to the car hospital. The car doc took one look at it and shook his head. He knew the gravity of the situation as we stared helplessly at our dear family member. Then he said it....those words that we all dread....'life support'....yes, my pretty blue SUV is now on life support with the hopes of a donor transmission as its only way to extend it life.

Now we look at the quality of future life should we decide to go with the transmission transplant. How long will it be before something else breaks down? What if the transmission repair costs more than the car is worth? Then what? DO we pay for it OR dare I write it.....pull the plug?

And so, this is a conundrum. What to do?  Do we say our final good bys  or do we go for it? Rebuild the transmission, extend its life for a few thousand miles. It all depends. The way dad put it is: "My thresh hold of pain is $1000." Ok, a thousand bucks for something that has been loyal throughout the years...car pooling....to work...to games...practices....shopping....sleeping...family visits...your pain is only $1000? Where's the loyalty? Oye!

The first week that I had the car, a woman rear ended me and totaled her car. My SUV has a few scratches on the bumper. What does that tell you? Yep....the accident could have been worse, but I was protected by its fine construction.



Today, the transmission specialist is asking for a second opinion. Keep the fingers crossed....Yes, it is only an object but it has been in my life for so long and been not only comfortable but reliable and safe. I owe it more than a thousand dollars.....perhaps it needs a miracle. We'll know more later. Until then...have a good one!

Pitching doctor

Good morning! It's raining again! I guess that this is good for the flowers. And, I don't have to pull the hose out to water this week. Although, yesterday Tink showed me a hose that is lightweight and coils on its own. I am going to have to check it out in Home Depot. I guess that this hose is becoming my latest obsession. Speaking of obsessions, thanks to Big Sis, I am now fully engrossed in the game Candy Crush and have not left the couch in two days trying to beat it. I even woke up this morning with colored images and blocks swimming in my mind. This cannot be good for anyone's weight, diet, or health. Gonna have to delete it after I finally get to the next level. For those of you who have not started the game, may I suggest that you don't. It's more addicting than chocolate cake and Pepperidge Farm goldfish....just sayin'

On to the big kid....Yes, his dream of the past 9 months has actually come true. As I type, he is stretching in Houston and prepared for a 4 week pitching boot camp that he sees as changing his life. As dad, Tink, and I sat at dinner for the first time in a long time without the big guy, dad felt that this journey is part of his development and he can never say that he did not try everything to make it. And there you have it....

The leftie has been given every advantage to make it. Now it is up to him and the Pitching Doctor. By the way, he does not take this perk lightly. He works hard every day, sacrifices, and grinds it out. He is gritty and determined. With these traits, he will succeed whether it is in baseball, law, or collecting trash. He has the hard to come by work ethic. I give him kudos for his ability to focus on his goals. Many of us get side tracked with games like Candy Crush. Others believe that working out and sacrificing are way too hard and therefore give up. Not this guy. After spending the last month with him, I have come to admire him as a person and not just as a son. He is becoming the man that I wanted in a son.

He is kind, giving, sensitive, and caring. He is also goal oriented and can write! Yep, he can write! So, look for his memoirs in the future.


Quick note, I just heard from him. He arrived at the ranch two hours early. The gates are locked, so he is driving around. There is nothing and I mean nothing near the ranch for many many miles. So he is driving on a two lane highway killing time. I told him to get off the phone and focus on driving and finding a Panera to hang out. "Uh, ma....there is no Panera, Burger King and McDonalds for miles. This place is all farms and ranches and cows." Ok, so stop driving and talking and focus on relaxing and mentally preparing to begin...Or look for former President Bush...doesn't he live on a ranch in TX?

With that said, I'll miss the big guy, but he has to be there. I am proud of him and look forward to hearing and sharing lots of interesting stories from the ranch.

Got to go! I have another level of Candy Crush to tackle and a retractable hose to find!

Adios!