Tag Archives: family

Living The Dream…

 

Living The Dream Book CoverFirst, let me wish all of our Box Wine Budget friends a Happy Mother’s Day. Now, on to the more important matters of the day…me. I have the perfect gift idea for all of our selfless mothers out there: it’s immediate, inexpensive and will bring a smile to their faces. My BWB partner and I have co-authored a humorous look at family life entitled…you guessed it…Living The Dream On A Box Wine Budget. This blog was actually born from the book. Real stories taken from the pages of our lives will resonate with anyone who has ever parented, been parented or been a member of a family and bring a smile to your face. That should cover just about all of you. We’re confident you’ll either nod your head thinking, “I’m not alone” or recognize the good fortune in your own life as you read the mishaps in ours. Either way, you win.

Some of the topics covered:  Dog Court, pets, allergies, over the top classroom parties and family vacation nightmares. We had a lot of fun writing it and I’m pretty sure we succeeded wildly in embarrassing our children. It’s a quick read and guaranteed to make you chuckle at least once. And, the best part? It’s now available for download on Kindle & Kindle apps for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, PC, Mac, Blackberry & Android-based devices for only 0.99.  I mean, come ON…it’s 0.99 for goodness sake. Please don’t say you or your beloved mother aren’t worth 0.99. Seriously, do NOT go there. And it’s SO easy to do. Just visit http://www.amazon.com & search:  Living The Dream On A Box Wine Budget by Casey Quinn and Petrina Collins. Yes, those are psuedonyms (writer talk for pen names) and we chose names that were meaningful to us. Try to guess who’s who.

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Have You Ever Had To Make Up Your Mind? And Say Yes To One And Leave The Other Behind?

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Well, it’s done… We’ve just finalized the decision of where to send our daughter, Mary Kate, to college and I can’t help but think of the line from Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, “Is that your final answer?” complete with ominous music playing. The process of choosing a college can be overwhelming, but I have to admit, this time it was absolutely grueling. And, what really kills me is that, upon hearing where she will be enrolling in the fall, I know almost everyone will respond with, “Well, that was a no-brainer. Of course that’s where she’s going.”  They’ll say this because it’s the same school that all three of our sons attended, as well. Yes, that’s right. The original list included becoming: a Huskie, a Leatherneck (I kind of like that one), a Redbird, an Illini and a Hawkeye. And…drum roll please…the final answer?…more drum roll… come this fall, she will officially become a  University of Iowa  Hawkeye. But, the decision was in NO WAY an easy one. Did you notice the capital letters? I hope so because I really meant them. In fact, Mary Kate said she was thinking that maybe she could be the different one in the family and make her own way at a different school. We assured her all along that she should not feel like she HAS to go to, what has become, quite unintentionally, the school of choice for our family. She could do her own thing. But, after an exceedingly agonizing deliberation, she settled on joining the percussion studio at Iowa. With her brother. Continue reading

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Cellll-A-Brate Good Times…

champagne uncorked picThis week marks the first time, in over twenty-six years, that I’ve experienced no kids in the house. And, let me tell you, it has been  FANTASTIC. I love my kids and all, but, OMG, it’s been SO nice to not have them around. I mean I’ve fantasized about this for many, many years. Yes, many, many. People would tell me, “Oh that’s what you think now, but just wait. You’ll miss your kids. You’ll miss the noise. It will be too quiet.” To which I respond, “Are you on drugs or something?”

It is impossible to be too quiet. In fact, my husband, who is slavishly working at his computer until the wee hours, desperately trying to finish tax returns before the dreaded upcoming deadline, is kind of making too much noise for me. It’s becoming more and more difficult to concentrate on my reality shows when I find myself continually needing to increase the volume of the television to drown out his sighing and moaning.

This small window into Life Without Kids is only temporary, though. My daughter will be returning home in two days from a spring-break trip to Florida. And in a few short weeks, her brother will be moving back home from school for the summer. With all his stuff. Unless, that is, he manages to get a job in Iowa City. I’m working on that now. Those are my babies. I’m working on the assumption that the older ones are gone for good – confident the married one has seen the last of his bedroom in the basement and my number two son might return home after finishing graduate school, but that won’t be for another year or so, according to my calculations. (I can just see him now dry-heaving at the thought)

But, I do see a light at the end of this tunnel when, come next fall, if all goes as planned, everyone will be safely tucked away in some sort of living quarters that is not here with me. The key word in that sentence is “away.”  Apartment… dorm…hostel…public housing…wherever, it won’t be at home. And, then, let the good times roll… But for now, I’ve just received a text requesting that I pay our U-Bill so my boy can continue his college studies without suffering the stigma of restricted privileges. Back to real life…fantasizing about the day my dog no longer lives with me. Another thing I’ve been thinking about for many, many years.

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Position Available For People With A Sense Of Humor…Sensitive Types Need Not Apply

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A sense of humor is a terrible thing to waste, which is why I am taking this opportunity to publicly announce my new New Years Resolution (stop judging) to surround myself with people who can appreciate a good joke. I’m not talking about practical jokes. I’ve never been a fan of those. No, I’m talking about dry humor. We, here at BWB, believe there is direct correlation between a person’s ability to understand dry wit and their intelligence level. Nothing screams I HATE YOU more than deftly dropping a remark so dry it threatens evaporation only to be completely missed by the intended recipient (thus evaporating) or worse, is met with a serious look of concern. What the world hears me saying, at this point is, “I was kidding…It was a joke…”  What I’m thinking is “OMG I hate you. Remind me to NEVER talk to you again.” What a waste of a perfectly dead-panned moment. Continue reading

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“The hell with the rules. If it looks right, then it is”…Or Why I Suddenly Like Eddie Van Halen

MLA picSo, what I want to know is: when did the rule change? I am referring, of course, to the change in the rule concerning how many entered spaces is proper after a period. Of course, that’s what I’m referring to. I don’t know what you thought I was referring to. Just go with me on this, okay? I know I’m pretty old-school when it comes to some (okay, probably a lot of) things, but I do remember being taught, admittedly a few decades ago, that after a sentence, or any period for that matter (colon, for example) two spaces must be entered. Two abutting sentences must never come in such close proximity as one space, or God forbid, no space. This was firmly embedded in my teenaged brain back in the days of typewriters. Being a product of Catholic schools my entire life (well, except I was a Public for kindergarten), this was an unquestioned canon pretty much right next to the Ten Commandments as far as important rules to follow.  So, naturally, when my kids would, in a fit of exasperation, beg me to STOP using two spaces in between sentences, that it wasn’t necessary, I paid no heed to their unfortunate ignorance, while simultaneously regretting the gobs of money obviously wasted on their collective educations. Continue reading

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Have Stick Bag…Will Travel

MjAxMi0yNDdhODY2MDczNjNjZDc5Here we go again…in a few short hours, Mary Kate will begin her odyssey. Today marks her first music audition. Every weekend throughout the month of February, will find her performing her awesome skills before heads of departments at various universities.

We’ve learned a thing or two after having gone through this process a few years ago with her brother. At least now, we know what to expect. Mary Kate has  had the opportunity to meet and have lessons with almost all of the professors for whom she will audition. We didn’t do that with Peter, mainly because we were too dumb to know that we should. Or that that was even a “thing.” Pete was really on his own, and, fortunately,  had the chops to prove himself. But, it sure would have been nice to have a little advance coaching to prepare him (and Mom and Dad) for the whole audition process.

So, MK has been able to benefit from Peter’s baptism by fire. I know she’s nervous. Who wouldn’t be? But, she is a very talented percussionist and hopefully, the powers that be will recognize the gem standing before them in her cute skirt, new scarf and totally cool boots.  Auditions are scheduled after a student has already been admitted into the university itself. They determine whether or not she will then be admitted into the music schools within the universities.

So, wish us (yes – us) luck. I know she’ll be great, and I’m going to try to control the urge to psych out the other candidates vying for the coveted 4-5 openings. But, I gotta’ say, I’m not making any promises in that department. I am, however, bringing my rosary… Good luck MK!!! I know you’ll rock 🙂

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Just Breathe…

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My mom, like many women, battled breast cancer.  And, like many women, won that battle.  Several years after her victory, though, a malignant lesion was discovered on her lung.  Our first thought was that the breast cancer had reared its ugly head for a  rematch.  When a biopsy determined that the cancerous cells actually originated in the lungs, the diagnosis was one that shocked the entire family:  lung cancer.  Stage IV lung cancer.  My mom had never smoked a cigarette in her life.  She had never been exposed to second-hand smoke, as neither her parents nor my father ever smoked.  In fact, she detested being around smoke.  She was one of the statistics you hear about.

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Dream A Little Dream…

thCABEB98MHmmm….where to begin… First of all, let me wish all of my BWB friends a Happy New Year.  Now, on to the important matters of, umm, me.  Yes, I’ve been giving the year 2013 a lot of thought and, basically, here’s the deal:  I’ve already decided that it’s gonna’ be a good one.  Mike will make his first million in the world of high finance, prompting him to turn his good fortune into a better fortune by producing Brian’s first blockbuster film, which will be the buzz of Hollywood with Oscar talk for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Writing (Best Screen Play?  I’m not sure what that one’s called.  I’m still learning, so cut me some slack) and, of course, (Pete, I haven’t forgotten you), Best Film Score.  Little sister, Mary Kate, will be proudly standing by her brothers as an assistant something or other.  Kidding, MK.  Everyone knows you’re already being projected to be a better musician than that other kid in the family, so, of course, you’ll be probably still an assistant something because, well, let’s be realistic, you’re only eighteen years old.   Let’s graduate high school first.  I mean, come on.  Anyway, back to me.  My children have been carefully groomed in the art of a great acceptance speech by Yours Truly: keep it short and sweet and, whatever you do, do NOT forget to thank Mom and Dad. 

So, there you have it:  my 2013 in a nutshell.  Not bad, really.  I mean, it could happen.  Mike does work in the world of finance.  Brian is getting his Master’s degree in digital film/screen directing.  Pete is an accomplished musician, loves composition and has collaborated with Brian during the early film years and Mary Kate is eighteen years old. 

It’s fun to dream, anyway.  And that’s what the New Year represents to us all, doesn’t it?  Dreams.  A new slate.  New possibilities.  Ooohhh, and a new dress for the after-Oscar parties.  I should probably start looking now.  Maybe once I get my balances down at Carson’s or Von Maur, that is…

P.S. May all of your wildest dreams come true

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They’ve Got Your Number Dad…

  I talk to my parents every day.  That might be more than the average person, but I do have the advantage of being able to strike up a conversation with them at any time, in any place.  As I have written before, my mom and dad were the best parents any kid could have and even though I lost my dad twenty-seven years ago (the day after our oldest son’s first birthday party) and my mom nine years ago (definitely does not seem that long), I still miss them terribly and need them.  I was an unabashed Daddy’s Little Girl.  Which is why I talk to them everyday.  I especially bombard them during difficult times.  And I’m sure they just love that…

But what sparked this post, was a sudden flashback that occurred while I was quietly sitting in the back seat of our car on the way to a movie (the position to which I’ve been relegated since the boys have been home), lost in my thoughts, when I noticed the license plate of another car one lane over.  My breath caught in my throat when I saw the number on the plate:  1526.  An ordinary number to most, but my eyes began to well-up at the sight.  I hadn’t thought of that number in years.  I immediately texted my brother, Paul, to confirm.  And, without delay, he responded that, yes, that was the number alright.  Fifteen-twenty-six was a venerated number in our home growing up.  It was my dad’s star number.  He was a Chicago Police Sergeant and proudly wore that star for thirty years.  After his death, my brother, Tom, had a necklace made for my mom with a CPD star pendant and, you guessed…it was star #1526.  Paul and Tom have since followed in our dad’s footsteps, honorably serving the people of Chicago.  And, devotedly worn on Tom’s uniform, is Star #1526.  My dad’s star.  I remember, when my dad would leave for work, he’d give me a kiss and I’d tell him to “get the bad guys.”  In his uniform.  With that star.

Death may separate us physically from our loved ones, but never in spirit.  And, sometimes, we even get a physical reminder of their beloved memory.  Love you and miss you Mom and Dad, but you already know that.  I tell you everyday.

As a post-script to this, I wanted to share with you, in the words of legendary radio personality Paul Harvey, “the rest of the story”.  My brother, Tom, retired from the Chicago Police Department in November of 2013, resulting in a temporary pause in the life of Star #1526. Until a few months later, that is, when a new class of police officers was promoted to the rank of Sergeant, including my younger brother, Paul. The star had been re-issued to another new Sergeant, but when she heard the history of that number, she happily surrendered it to him. So now,  that Star…that Number…lives on as the third Chicago Police Sergeant in my family proudly pins it to his uniform every day. And that’s the rest of the story. And a pretty cool one at that…

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So Much To Do…So Many Episodes Of Snapped To Watch…

Procrastination-3[1]So, I really should not be sitting at my computer right now.  I have a million other, important things I should be doing.  Those of you familiar with box wine musings might remember a post from last January about my failed attempts to prepare our house for the 2011 Christmas holidays.  That led me to make a rather bold, public New Years Resolution to clean my house from top to bottom so that I would be able to enjoy the 2012 holiday season, free of stress.  I think my exact words were, “No closet, cabinet, or drawer will be overlooked. Dust bunnies will be but a distant memory.”  Or something like that. 

Anyway, the point is, I started out on a mission.  And, I succeeded in scouring every room on the first floor of my house from floor to ceiling.  I was pretty amazing, really.  Then, about two weeks later, I spotted an evil cobweb hanging about a hundred miles up from the two-story ceiling in our family room.   (Sidenote:  two-story ceilings:  a stupid feature in a house – refer to my post:  And Another Thing…Random Thoughts, 09/13/12, for other dumb ideas in home construction that seem really cool when you’re walking through the house….) Anyway, upon seeing the return of the enemy so soon after my heroic (a ladder was involved) removal, I threw in the towel.  I surrendered.  I figured, “Who was it hurting?”  And you know what?  It’s actually pretty easy to live with the dangling threads of dust if you just each mind your own business.   

But, now, as Christmas approaches, the trials of last year seem like kid’s stuff.  This year, I am faced with a real challenge.  My house looks like the “before” house on any given episode of Hoarders.  That’s because it has suddenly become a storehouse for:  unsold items from a recent family estate sale (some of which are travelling downtown on Saturday – ooohhh that’s tomorrow – when son, Brian moves into his bachelor pad), wedding gifts from other son, Mike and Laura’s wedding (that’s okay, guys – we don’t mind), and, of course, Christmas lights, strewn about in an orderly mess through several rooms.  Then, just for fun, throw in Thanksgiving when third son, Peter, spent the entire week home from school doing his laundry, leaving large duffel bags, hampers and any other vessel filled with his dirty clothing everywhere, and I became sort of paralyzed, falling rather easily into that familiar fantasy about having my own secret apartment (a thought I’ve actually done some research on, but that’s a story for another blog). 

 I’m not sure where to start, but I do know that priority one is getting Brian’s stuff ready to be packed into the rental truck we’re picking up in a few hours.  So, I really should be focusing on that.  I keep telling myself that once his things are together, and especially packed into the truck this evening, my house will start to resemble a normal dwelling place.  Then, I just have to move the wedding gifts into Mikes bedroom.  But before I do that, I HAVE to figure out how to take apart the marimba in his room (if you don’t know what a marimba is, look it up – it’s big) that we borrowed from school and were supposed to return by late October.  Sorry about that, Mr. Thurlow. 

So, I’m sure you can understand why I’m sitting at my computer instead of doing something constructive.  But, I really do need to go.  There are so many things to do:  check my Facebook, see if there are any Snapped episodes I haven’t watched yet (doubtful), oh, maybe buy Hoover some dog food, ummm….and some other really important things.

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