When Your Son's Greatest Aspiration is to be a Hobo

My youngest three kids get out of school a couple hours before I get home from work. I’d been having Austin watch them after school while Savannah is at water polo practice. However, Austin’s idea of watching them and mine were a little different in that Austin didn’t actually watch them. Or maybe he did. Watch them make messes, that is. I finally got tired of coming home to Austin asleep on the couch while the little ones played this game called, “Let’s move every item in the house into another room for no apparent reason”. (Thanks, Ilene, for the name of that game. It’s very fitting!)

I signed my little ones up for the after-school program last week. They weren’t happy with the idea and to tell the truth, neither was I. I hate that they have to stick around there for another couple hours after they finish their school day and I hate the idea of having to pay for childcare when I don’t make all that much to begin with, but I finally realized that I hated coming home to a disaster even more. Austin was assigned the task of walking to town and filling out applications for an afterschool job since the whole babysitting thing just wasn’t panning out.

Want to know how many applications Austin filled out last week? Any guesses? Apparently, getting a job doesn’t mesh with his whole ‘I want to be a hobo’ plan. This week, he was given an ultimatum – get a stinkin’ job or spend your afternoons cleaning the house and getting dinner started.  If you don’t, your computer is mine! I’m pretty sure I’ll be acquiring another computer by Friday.

On the bright side, my youngest three are loving the after-school program. In fact, yesterday they complained that I’ve been picking them up too early. (I rush over there the second I get out of work.) They asked me to please let them stay longer. I’m thinking about staying after school to work out for a bit before going to get them. It would be nice to have some time to myself to decompress after work, especially if I can get my mind off what I should be doing and drop the guilt of spending some much needed time on my very neglected self.

The thing I have dreaded the most – sticking my kids in the care of someone else, may turn out all right afterall.

Mr. Sandman, Bring me a Dream

I’ve been having some strange dreams lately. They’re either stress-induced or I have some serious mental issues. I’m going with the stress theory. I’m pretty good at managing stress during the day. At least I think I’m pretty good at it. Any day I don’t wind up on the floor, rocking back and forth in a fetal position is good in my book, anyway.

People tell me to let go of the things that stress me. That’s good advice in theory, I guess. I can let the little stuff slide without a second thought, but there are some stressors that I just can’t do away with. Juggling all my responsibilities, trying to make ends meet every month, and attempting to ensure my kids’ well-being are all ever-present in my mind. And even if I can tuck away those things that stress me out and they aren’t at the surface, they’re still lurking around the dark corners of my brain somewhere between the lyrics to We Are Young (which plays on a continuous 24 hour loop in my mind), and the seldom used Pythagorean Theorem.

A couple nights ago, I dreamt that the roof of my house was collapsing. It was raining and the ceiling was saturated with water. Every time I looked up, I’d see the water spot spreading further and further across the room. I could tell the plaster was getting spongy. As my dream wore on, the ceilings in every room of the house started sagging, closing in on me. I knew it was only a matter of time until the entire structure collapsed.

I called my friend Jenny to get the name of the carpenter who fixed her roof, but she was too busy to talk to me. (I’m fairly certain she’s never had a carpenter fix her roof in real life, but it seemed plausible in my dream.) I called my friend Eric to see if he had any ideas on how to fix it, but he wasn’t around to help me. I finally gave up, gathered my kids, and left my house. As I drove away, it was pitch black and pouring rain outside. I watched in my rearview mirror as the second story crumbled down into the first.

I awoke with an impending sense of doom and helplessness.

Then last night, I dreamt that my kids were late for school, but I couldn’t get them there. I’m really not sure what my problem was and why I couldn’t get them to school, but I ended up asking an acquaintance from back home in Chicagoland to watch my kids while I went to get something. (I don’t know what the “something” was. I guess I was too lazy to come up with any specifics in last night’s dream.) I borrowed this friend’s shoes that were black and shiny and one size too small (Hmmm, on the topic of shoes I was oddly specific) and I went out on foot to find that elusive something I was searching for. I walked down the stairs and admired how this acquaintance had squeezed a bed into the small space in the hall at the top of the stairs for a guest room. As I left her house, I think I broke her door. I’m not sure. It might have already been like that, but the door wouldn’t latch shut. I did the best I could to close it and then left it sort of flapping in the breeze so I could find that something and get back to take my kids to school. (Yes, I’m aware this doesn’t make much sense. Yes, I’ve considered not drinking rum before bed. Leave me alone and let me finish my story.)

As I was walking around as fast as I could through strip malls, basketball courts and apartment buildings (I have no idea what the city planners in my dream were thinking), I ran into a guy who went to grade school with me. He was playing basketball along with a bunch of other people I remembered from a long time ago. He told me that I should meet up with them at the basketball courts later tonight so we could talk and catch up. I readily agreed and asked him for his number so I could text him when I got there. (There were dozens of courts and I didn’t want to wander around looking for him.)

He told me the first three digits of his phone number, but then gave me a math problem that, when I figured it out, would reveal the last digits of his telephone number. I looked at the problem for a while. It was 10 – 2 10. I stared at it. Ten, minus, two, ten. Then I looked at him. Then back at the problem. Then at him. (I distinctly remember this part because I was so dumbfounded by it in my dream.) I complained and told him to stop goofing off and just give me his stupid number. He laughed and insisted I’d have to figure out the problem. I finally gave up and told him I hated basketball anyway. Then I stomped off so I could get back to my kids.

Next thing I know, I’m walking around, trying to get to my friend’s house to get my kids. When I returned, she said that she’d already taken them to school. Then she got upset because I’d stretched out her shiny, black shoes. (Nice how my dreams have continuity like that, huh?)

Oddly enough, I woke up an hour late this morning and had to rush to get my kids to school.


Like I said before, I’m going with the stress theory. I say my vivid dreams (and teeth grinding) are my way of dealing with the stress that I shove to the back burner during the day. I guess it’s gotta come out somewhere and given the choice of me losing it during the day or having strange dreams at night, I’ll choose the strange dreams thankyouverymuch. Besides, they make decent blog material. So how do you deal with the things that stress you out?

Go to Bed!

If someone told me to put away my work and go to bed at 8:00, I’d leave tracks as I ran upstairs and flung myself onto my bed. I’d probably be asleep before my head hit the pillow as well. I don’t know any adults, given the chance, who would pass up the chance to get some rest. But kids? Well, kids are nothing like adults!

Every night, my kids manage to stall for hours, HOURS before falling asleep. It doesn’t matter when I tell them to go to bed either.  They just can’t manage to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. I tried to come up with a solution to my bedtime bind. Being a rational, thinking person, I figured that maybe I was putting them to bed too early. They simply weren’t tired yet. My theory made sense to my sophisticated, brilliant mind, so, I let them stay up a little later, certain they would instantly fall asleep when I sent them upstairs an hour past their regular bedtime. Nope. They naturally stayed up, goofing off an hour later than usual. Let this be a lesson to any other fool out there thinking they can use reason and logic to understand how kids work.

Then I thought perhaps they’d go to sleep in a more timely fashion if I started waking them up a little earlier. Surely that will tire them out and send them to dreamland promptly at 8:00, I surmised. I tried it for a few days. But alas, this theory did not work either. They continued to mess around at night, taking hours to fall asleep, but I also had the added bonus of crabby, cranky kids in the morning. Not to mention the fact that waking my kids up earlier put a serious cramp in my daily snooze alarm game.

Next, I got the ingenious idea that they’d all go to sleep much better if I staggered their bedtimes. If Brooklyn’s asleep before Lexi lies down, there won’t be any talking or goofing off, I speculated. “It’s just mad enough to work!” I exclaimed to myself while my teens, overhearing me, gave each other knowing glances, confirming each other’s suspicions that I’d officially lost it. I still think it was a good plan even though it didn’t work that well. I mean, how was I supposed to know it would take until 2:30 to get everyone asleep?

I thought perhaps I just needed to make bedtime more meaningful for my kids. Instead of giving them distracted goodnight kisses while reading email or writing amazing blog posts, I decided to go in their room and play with them a bit to help settle them down. Note to self: next time you try to settle the kids down to sleep, do NOT pretend you’re a zombie and chase them around, trying to munch on their brains. This, strangely enough, does NOT settle them down.

Finally, I gave up and poured glasses of wine for everyone. Sweet dreams!


*****Don’t worry. I use creative license when I write. I didn’t really give my kids wine. I wouldn’t waste good wine like that. I used Benedryl instead.*****

One Small Act of Kindness - Week Five

I’ve been horrible at updating my blog with my weekly small acts of kindness. It’s not that I haven’t been doing the acts, but I find myself so busy in the evening that I’m having a hard time writing about them. In the next couple weeks, I’m going to try to catch up because this really is important to me.


The week before spring break I did something fun with all my classes. Many of my students have some unimaginable situations at home. They have some very real problems, much more than just the drama over who’s dating who, and what grade they got on their history test. When I’m having a pity party, I find that doing something nice for someone else makes me forget about my problems and focus on someone else. It’s excellent (and cheap) therapy! I wanted to give my students the chance to do this too.


Then, some of my students had asked me about the shootings a few weeks ago in Ohio. I told them, “You never know how your actions are going to affect another person. The person you insult today may snap and come back to school with a gun tomorrow. Conversely, the person who is contemplating suicide may be so cheered up when you invite them to sit at your table during lunch that they go home and choose not to carry out their deathly plan.”


So, I decided to have my students participate in some random acts of kindness. I bought several bags of lollipops and attached notes to them. One side of the note read, “You’re important! :)” The other listed five things the recipient could do to pay it forward. Things like Walk your neighbor’s dog, Open the door for someone, and Clean your room were listed.


I had each of my students take a handful of lollipops with the instructions to pass them out to random people in the hallways. I didn’t want them just giving them to their buddies, but giving them out to a lonely looking sixth grader or a favorite teacher, or a kid on crutches, etc.


It was fun watching them hand them out during passing periods. They were reluctant and self-conscious at first, but soon they were running around, passing the candy out with a smile. Now and then, throughout the day, I’d see kids walking around with the lollipops. It was pretty cool. I think I’m going to make that a regular activity.


As always, please add your ideas for random acts of kindness here. We can all benefit from hearing what you’re doing in to make a difference in your lives!

Check Yes or No

I'm not sure I like the whole concept of online dating. At first I thought it was a great idea. No jumping in, but slowly getting to know a person over time before even actually meeting them sounded ideal. I mean, I might think differently if it was just me, but with kids, I have no desire to date multiple guys, trying one after another until I find someone who can stand my um, idiosyncrasies. After being on eHarmony for a couple weeks, however, I've decided to forget about dating in all forms. I'm simply going to get a dog. (If you read this Jackson, no, I'm not really getting a dog so stop before you start!) And these are the reasons why . . .

1.  I’m rarely matched with someone who lives in the same state as I.  Although, when I filled out the registration information, I indicated that I’d like to meet people within a 300 mile radius and that was pretty important to me, I get matches from California, Delaware, Kentucky, and Nebraska. I didn’t even know people lived in Nebraska! 

2.  After a while, all the profiles start sounding alike. Rarely do I find one that stands out in any way. Shockingly enough, everyone is looking to meet someone who is honest, sincere, loving, and who enjoys life. I know, right?!  So, I end up judging prospective friends by their profile photos. I was matched with someone who looked like Herman Munster the other day. I immediately discounted him. He might be the greatest guy ever, but when I get seven matches a day, well, I’m not going to strike up a conversation with every single one, so the Hermans of the dating world get the boot. I don’t really like that. It just somehow seems wrong.

3.  There are too many (I mean, WAY too many) profiles that make my eyes bleed. I find myself wanting to write back to these gentlemen, offering to fix their profiles for them so they seem less, um, what’s the word I’m looking for? Stupid! If you’re on an online dating site, for the love of all that is holy, please double-check your spelling, punctuation and grammar. Certainly not everyone will pass over you if you don’t, but I guarantee you’ll lose possible connections if your entire profile is one run-on sentence filled with misspelled words.

4.  There’s this little game you’re apparently supposed to play on eHarmony.  First, after checking out someone’s profile, if their picture doesn’t scare you away and their profile is interesting (or at least punctuated correctly) you’re supposed to send an “icebreaker.” You can choose from prefabricated statements like, “Your profile brought a smile to my face,” or “I just wanted to say hi.”

Then, from what I can tell, you’re supposed to send five closed-ended questions such as, “If you stayed home on a Friday night, what would you rather do? Watch TV, read, wash your hair, rearrange your sock drawer, or cook a fancy meal.” Real great, deep, interesting stuff, no?

After this step, you can choose to send some open-ended questions. “What’s the most daring thing you’ve done in the past year?”

Finally, you send eHarmony email (so your potential stalker partner doesn’t know your real email address.) Personally, it’s the ones who skip the lame questions and send me an email that I’d rather talk to. The rest of it is too much like junior high, passing notes with questions like, “Do you like me?  Check yes or no.”

5.  I don’t really want to respond to the creepy looking or sounding ones who send me “icebreakers” or questions. But I don’t want to be mean and crush anyone’s soul either. But then again, I don’t want to lead on Bubba in California with the ax murderer smile and the favorite hobby of hunting in their wooded backyard, misspelled as humting in there woulded back yard.  But it doesn’t hurt just to say hi and inform him how to spell second grade words, does it? Then again, I can’t really take time out to communicate with every single person just to be nice, can I? It’s just plain awkward. Meeting people in real life doesn’t work this way!

6.  Finally, I’m becoming obsessed. I have the eHarmony app on my phone.  Every morning I wake up and check out the day’s matches. Every time I hear that little chime that someone has sent me mail, I fumble to turn on my phone immediately. I may need a twelve step program if I keep going like this.

Now that I think about it, it wouldn’t take much leg work for any possible match to find this blog. Wouldn’t he be surprised to read about himself here!
I guess I haven’t entirely made up my mind about this online dating stuff yet, but I’ll keep you posted. Check back here to read the latest.

CONTINUE READING HERE!

Goodnites Bed Mat Winners

Thank you to everyone who commented about the new Goodnites bed mats! And congratulations to the three random winners!

Chris, Tara, and Rebecca!

You have 48 hours to email me at dawn@dawnmeehan.com with your shipping information.

Congrats!

A Walk Down Main Street USA

I live near the cutest little town ever. I've been wanting to walk around in the town center and take pictures for some time and I finally got around to it this weekend. I'm no professional photographer, but I enjoy taking pictures. I think I got some decent ones to represent this adorable town. I could probably go back a dozen more times and get new, completely different photos each time.

There are several restaurants, many with outdoor seating. There's an old fashioned barber shop and soda fountain, and I'm in love with the used bookstore. Every Friday night there's live music in the square and there's a farmer's market every Saturday. Nearly every month, some special event, festival, or car show takes place in town. On any given evening, you can see couples strolling hand in hand, seniors relaxing in the swings, watching people walk by, and kids enjoying ice cream cones and splashing in the fountains. I could sit, basking in the balmy air, hair fluttering in the breeze, a smile of contentment on my face while watching people and creating stories about their lives in my head every night. Heaven!

CONTINUE READING HERE!

The Revolution!

I was recently contacted by a casting director for ABC's The Revolution hosted by Project Runway's Tim Gunn and Extreme Makeover's Ty Pennington. She's looking for inspirational, relatable moms who have 50-100 lbs. to lose.

I immediately nominated myself as a potential candidate. I'm a relatable mom and I definitely have weight to lose. I would love to be a part of this show! Of course, with Ty Pennington hosting it, I'd love to be part of the show even if it was about moms who like to wrestle alligators. What? He's easy on the eyes!

Anyway, if you're interested in applying to be on the show or if you know someone who might be, you can go here to check out the details. www.therevolutioncasting.com. If you think I would be a good fit for the show, you can show your support by leaving me a comment here.

Oh, you'll need to upload a full-length picture of yourself. I seriously didn't have any pictures like that because people aren't allowed to take full-length shots of me and if they do, I crop or delete them right away. How nice would it be to let myself be photographed without having to crop out everything but my head?

If You Like Piña Coladas

I recently asked my Facebook friends how to meet guys. Several of my them mentioned online dating sites like eHarmony and Match.com. I thought about it for a bit and decided Why not? I mean, meeting someone online and getting to know them through email correspondence instead of endless bad first dates actually sounds like a good plan to me. I figured I could weed out some of the weirdos by a quick glance at their profiles, right?

Men who say they don't like kids can be eliminated right away. Anyone who lists collecting snakes as a hobby, or doing math problems as a favorite leisure time activity can be immediately discounted. And, this may sound shallow, but any man with a profile picture that makes him look like a sociopathic ax murderer can be removed from the pool of possible matches. Don't ask me what a sociopathic ax murderer looks like, but anyone with a maniacal smile and oh say, a bloody ax, (along with men who have their mothers or their cats in their pictures) would probably fit that bill.

So I went ahead and signed up for eHarmony. Well, when you first sign up, you have to answer 15,000 questions. There are questions about your level of education, income, height, religion, what are your personality traits, what are you looking for in a partner. There are a ton of questions designed to help you find a good match promote lying. For example, how would you answer this question?

My house is -
A. spotless; even my dust is organized
B. pretty clean and organized
C. a complete disaster
If you answer with A, you’re a controlling, obsessive, type A person. If you answer with C, you’re basically saying you need a backhoe and a hazmat suit to get in your front door.

It will take you a good hour to fill out the entire questionnaire. Or, at least, it should take you that long. If you’re impatient and tend to rush through things, you might make some grave mistakes on your profile. I’m not admitting anything, but if you rush through the questions, you might inadvertently miss something really important. Ahem.

So I finished the sign-up process (or so I thought), but then came a whole new section filled with open-ended questions. By the time I finished that, I was sick of the lame questions and started answering inquiries like, “What are you looking for in a person?” with the lyrics to Rupert Holme’s Escape. No joke. I really did. I figure they’ll either get it and appreciate my humor or they’ll be relegated to my discard pile because if a guy doesn’t laugh at my jokes, then there’s obviously something wrong with him.

I received sixteen matches the first day. Excitedly, I started checking them out. Ten of those were over 60 years old. They had grandkids older than my children! I thought – eHarmony sucks! What kind of genius thought it would be good to pair me with a 62 year old grandpa??? (I’m 42, by-the-way)

I mentioned this to a friend who informed me that I’m the idiot. I must not have taken the time to accurately fill in the box that asked, “What age range are you willing to date?” This is why you really want to make sure you have a good hour of uninterrupted time when you’re not about to fall asleep in order to complete the whole sign-up process. Trust me.

Check back here to read the latest in awkward dating posts.

A New Way to Have GoodNites

As you know, I work with Goodnites to help inform parents and answer their questions about bedwetting. Once upon a time, I dealt with bedwetting and the problems associated with it. At that time I didn't have all the facts and made some poor decisions in regards to bedwetting which is why I'm now so passionate about helping parents to understand bedwetting and to cope with it.

Goodnites now has a great alternative to disposable underwear! Goodnites disposable bed mats! These amazingly absorbant pads can be placed on your child's bed by peeling off the adhesive backing and sticking it to the sheet. It'll stay put all night without getting scrunched up. And it provides all the protection you've come to trust from Goodnites disposable underwear without the stigma of "wearing a diaper" that some kids resent. Occasionally I have a parent write to me that their child is such a heavy wetter that they saturate the Goodnite underwear. This bed mat in combination with the disposable underwear would save a lot of laundry and interrupted sleep for those individuals, ensuring your child does indeed have a good night. I have three packages of Goodnites new bed mats to give away! Read on for details!

Here's a little demonstration I did using a small square sample of the Goodnites bed mat and a whole lotta water!


Peel the adhesive backing off the bed mat and press in place.


Voila!


"Night, Mom!"


I put TEN droppers full of water on the mat! I colored the water blue so I could see if it leaked through to the bed.


Super absorbant!


I easily peeled the mat off the bed. Boy was it FULL!


There wasn't a single drop of moisture on the bed!


"Yay! I slept all through the night! Thanks, Mom!"


I have three packs of new Goodnites Bed Mats to give away to three readers! Just leave me a comment here and I'll choose three random winners on Friday, March 30. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!

For more information on bedwetting, please visit Goodnites.com for a wealth of articles on all things bedwetting!

What If . . .

My students are masters at procrastination. I consider myself a professional procrastinator, but these guys have raised ‘putting off until tomorrow what can be done today’ to an art form! One of their favorite methods for putting off work is what I’ve come to refer to as the “What If” game. It goes something like this . . .

“Randy, did you finish your vocabulary sentences yet?”’

“No, Ms. Meehan. What if the president didn’t want any body guards? Could he do that? Could he go places by himself?”

“I’m sure the president would never consider going around without bodyguards.”

“But what if he did?” my student insisted.

“Nope, he can’t go without bodyguards,” I stated confidently.

“But he’s the president. Can’t he do whatever he wants?”

“Are your sentences done yet? No? Back to work.” I admonished, attempting to get him back on track.

Then, from another corner of the room, Carter asked, “Ms. Meehan?”

“Yes?”

“What if you were stung by a hundred bees?”

“It would hurt, but not as much as bringing home a D in math is going to hurt. Now finish that test.”

“But what if the school was filled with bees?”

“You’d still have to take your math test.”

Finally finishing his second sentence, Randy piped up again, “What if dogs could fly, Ms. Meehan?”

Joining in the conversation, Carter inquired, “What if birds could fly?”

“Birds can fly! Now get back to work!”

A few minutes went by before Randy’s ADD kicked in again. “What if a meteor hits the earth?”

“I’d get out of cooking dinner tonight,” I answered drily.

“No, really Ms. Meehan! What would happen?”

Before I could tell him to get back to work yet again, Carter joined in, “What if the ocean was filled with pudding? How long would it take to eat all that?”

“You guys are very creative, now get back to work!”

A few minutes pass. Then, “What if a meteor hits the earth? Really? Would everyone die?”

Sigh. “I’ve got one for you. What if you guys finish all your work before the bell rings?”

“You’d have a heart attack, Ms. Meehan?”

“Yes, I probably would.”

And that is how the “What If” game is played. Every day. Day after day after day after day after day. You’re jealous, aren’t you?

* Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the lazy.

Almost Home

I ran some errands with Austin today. As we were driving around, I asked him the same question I’ve been asking him for the past nine months. “Given the chance, would you want to move back to Chicago?” Today, for the first time, he answered, “Nah, it’s fine here.” And I believed him.

I worried about Austin and Savannah the most when we relocated.  Being in high school, I knew it would be a tough adjustment for them.  But when we first moved, Savannah jumped right in and made friends immediately.  You can plunk that girl down anywhere and she’ll adjust, make friends, and fit right in.  Austin has always been more introverted, unsure of himself, and slow to make friends.  However, this weekend, Austin met some kids at the movies.  He’s starting to settle in and think of Florida as home.

You can’t believe how good those words made me feel!  Austin was the last one of my kids to get acclimated here (not that the others don’t stuggle with homesickness now and then).  But now that he says, he’s fine here, I found myself breathing a sigh of relief.  I hadn’t noticed I’d been holding my breath for months, but suddenly, I exhaled and relaxed against the back of my driver’s seat.  Maybe it won’t be long until we’re saying Florida is home instead of things like, “I can’t wait until we go back home to visit,” referring to Chicagoland as home.

I started thinking.  I’ve been on my own with the kids now for nearly two-and-a-half years.  Two and a half years!  I’m doing it on my own.  Maybe not perfectly, but I’m doing it.  I know it sounds like I’m bragging.  I’m not.  It’s hard to explain the mix of emotions I feel.  I’ve been on pins and needles for so long, waiting for everything to fall apart; worrying that one day I’d screw up everything, or run out of money, or have a total mental breakdown.  Yet, at the same time, I seem to have developed a small sense of pride.  Well, it’s a bit of pride mixed in with an underlying fear that everything could be yanked away at any minute.  There’s a definite sense of accomplishment in there somewhere though.

I glanced over at Austin as I drove away from the store.  “I can’t believe we’ve been on our own for almost two-and-a-half years,” I commented.  “I can’t believe we’ve made it this long.”

“And you did it with six kids, Mom,” he affirmed, his voice laced something akin to pride.

Yeah, yeah, I have.  Smiling, I turned the corner and headed toward home.

*****Edited 3/19/2012*****

As I reread what I’d written last night, I realized I’d left out an important piece of information. When I wrote that I was doing it on my own, I meant without the help of a spouse. But I haven’t been entirely on my own. I’ve had the support of friends and family. And I’ve always had God by my side. Whenever things have looked bleak, He has lifted me up. When I would have an exceptionally bad day, suddenly I’d get a phone call or a card from a loved one that brightened my spirits. Whenever I’ve thought I was going to drown in financial obligations, out of nowhere I’d be offered a job that paid just what I needed to get by another month. I don’t think all these things simply happen. I believe they’re orchestrated by someone much greater than I.


I know those of you who have read my posts for any length of time, know this about me, but I wanted to be sure I put it out there. I’m sure I’d be back in Chicago, rocking in a fetal position while mumbling incoherently to myself if it weren’t for God.