Reaping What You Sow

Around 8 pm, PST, you'll be hearing the sound of an explosion. That will be my ex's head, after Drama Queen informs him that she wants to legally change her name to a hyphenate of his last name and Mr. Clairol's. The hyphenate is a compromise, to make the news more palatable to her biological father. She really intends to simply use MC's name.

Yeah. Karma's a real bitch.

It's been a long time coming. For a few weeks, she's been referring to MC as "Dad," and her sperm donor father by his first name. Not to his face, just around here. And to be honest, that's okay with me. She has a point when she claims MC has been far more her father than the other guy. Part of me feels as if I should support him, but after hearing that he refers to my husband, the man who shelters, feeds and cares for his spawn, as "just a gear head" and a "blue collar loser," (in DQ's hearing) I think my obligation to support him is over.

So keep an ear out. I myself am angling to eavesdrop on an extension. I'm just not sure I can keep from laughing.

Leave Me Alone

Without a doubt, this time of year is the absolute worst time to shop. Everywhere you go is packed. Even the grocery store. There is no safe time to shop. And the malls? Forget about it. I hate malls on a standard day. The crowds, the noise, the prices, it all makes me twitchy.

So begins my hermitage. I will rarely venture out from now til the new year. When I do, it will be for only the most necessary of supplies, like hot chocolate mix and diaper wipes. There are some final gifts I have to buy, but at this point, if I can't get it online, it isn't an option. If it were an option, I'd even have my groceries delivered.

I am going out today to check out a Salvation Army Family Store. I love my Eco Thrift, but I've lost the Deseret, so I'm looking to branch out. Hopefully it won't be crowded. I don't do crowds. Wish me luck!

Mmmmm

Turkey and stuffing coma...more later

Happy T Day

Happy Thanksgiving! Are you hosting today? I'm not, and I am very grateful. This does not mean I have escaped responsibility however. On Tuesday, I drove out to my parent's house and helped my mom make the deserts. We're feeding 22 people this year, so she's going all out. We made her three layer carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I actually got to do the bulk of this. It was pretty cool. Then it was onto pies. I peeled, cored and sliced a dozen granny smiths for a ten inch apple pie. And then two pecan pies. I talked her down from making more. Have I mentioned my mom makes the best pie you will ever eat? Totally not exaggerating. I've never eaten a store-bought pie (with the exception of an occasional slice of Marie Calendars).


My friend Maddie was shocked by this. Then she tasted my mom's peach pie. That was almost eight years ago and to this day, she swears it has spoiled her for anything else. That's how good my mom's pies are. I missed the pie gene. Mom claims this is because I haven't practiced enough and she's probably right. According to Mom, pie crust is like a bear. It smells fear. You can't be intimidated. I am not even making this up. So I leave the pies to Mom. She's not afraid of pie crust. Or bears, for that matter.


I have homework as well. I'm bringing the sweet potatoes and the rolls. And I'm violating the cardinal rule of Thanksgiving by making a recipe I've never tried before. Bourbon Yams. How can you go wrong with bourbon? Wait...experience has proven to me that you can indeed go very, very wrong with bourbon. But that was drinking it, not cooking. We'll see how it goes.


For bread, what else? Ass-rolls, of course. Mom and I have a bet as to how many of the family will point out the resemblance to a tushie. I'll let you know who wins.


Have a great day and may Butterballia bless your endeavors.

Twilight:The Movie

Meh. It wasn't horrible, but I had lost sight of the fact that it was a teen book and thus a teen movie was the natural result. Here's the thing: all those cheesy bits that made me cringe while reading the books were ten times worse when watching them on screen. I spent a lot of time snorting and shaking my head, much to Andrea's amusement.


Also, a note to the director. Drop the motion effects. They already look dated and sad. The parts where they're speeding through the forest? Not even remotely convincing.


BUT! The chemistry between the leads was great, electric even. Rob Pattinson was an excellent Edward. Just the right amount of broody intensity and restrained lust. They also nailed goofy high school behavior. All of the high school crown looked precisely as I had imagined them.


Yes, they changed some parts, but honestly, the screenplay tracked better than the actual book. Most of the technical flubs Meyers made in the book were fixed. This was good.


The theater was pretty dead, which I imagine was a blessing. Our crew were the only young teens and they did okay. Nobody shrieked when Edward came on screen. There were no vapors during the kiss. The squealing was minimal. Still, I think Andrea was glad we were sitting a good distance away from them. I think she's now officially too scared to have another baby. She's seen the end result of having a girl and it ain't pretty, children.


A side note. Andrea is the perfect movie buddy. She'll talk during the previews, but not during the feature. She doesn't hog the armrest. She doesn't eat noisy candy. She even laughed with me when a woman my age showed up in an Edward T-shirt.


I'm glad I saw it, but I'll be renting the sequels. Definitely not worth the $11.50 it cost to see it on the big screen.

Devil's Food

Between DQ's birthday and preparing for Thanksgiving, which I am not hosting, Thank Mom, I am pretty busy. Also pretty off the wagon. Urgh.

I'm pretty sure losing weight would be way easier if I didn't like my own cooking so much. And if my children didn't have birthdays. C'mon, how am I supposed to not eat an In-n-Out cheeseburger (what DQ wanted for her birthday dinner)? And this? Please. Like I could refuse a big fat honkin' slice tiny little sliver of the birthday cake? DQ would have been so hurt!

Yes, that is a two layer devil's food (from scratch: no cake mix in my house!) filled with raspberry jam and frosted with chocolate whipped cream frosting. It's a little ugly, because I am a terrible cake froster. But it was YUMMY! Do y'all see what I'm up against?

So after tomorrow, it's back on the wagon for me, hitting it twice as hard. I have no pounds lost by this date goal, but I do want to be under 200 pounds by the end of January. And to those of you concerned that I lost 8 pounds in a week, it's okay. I'm under a doctor's supervision and she says this is actually normal for someone as heavy as I am. I'll continue to drop large numbers for a while, until I dip below 200 and then my weight loss should level out to around 2 pounds a week. I'm consuming between 1200-1500 calories per day and getting at least five servings of vegetables and fruit.

Thank you all for your support and well wishes. It really does make a difference!

Happy Birthday, Drama Queen!

Fourteen years ago, on Thanksgiving morning, I was sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor, applying my make-up and I went into labor. Eight hours later, I was holding you in my arms, amazed that I had a) survived labor and childbirth and b) been given such an awesome responsibility in such a tiny package.

Yes, the picture is crooked. I'm feeling arty today. There's Drama Queen, in all her newborn glory. I've decided that all newborns look like aliens. It takes a solid three months until they achieve full adorable status.

You were such a pretty baby. Bald as a little cue ball, but ravishing, nonetheless. I remember staring at you, thinking it impossible that I had produced such a beautiful child. You were also incredibly alert and curious. It wasn't long until you were scooting and then boom! Walking. At nine months. For several months, you looked like an abused child, having walked into many walls before the concept of solid objects occurred to you.

You've always been Poppy's girl. He wasn't thrilled that I got pregnant before graduating from college, but once you arrived, he was gone. He used to drop by our apartment whenever he was in Southern California. Once, he drove from Bakersfield, just to see you. G-ma would fly out, at least once a month for the first year. They were completely enamored, and who could blame them? You were happy, laughing, utterly charming...



and always on the run! Oh my heavens, you wore me out. There was a stretch of about six months that I frequently considered a leash.

Then we moved up north. It was a bad time, and I'll always be sorry that you had to endure it. Your dad and I were splitting up and eventually he moved back to southern California. We stayed here, living with G-ma, Poppy and for a while, Uncle Wanna-ben. That was a party.

It was about a year later, just after you turned three, when you revealed you could read. We were driving in the car, when you read a billboard as we passed. G-ma looked at me, astounded, and said, "She just read that billboard. What does this one say?" And you read it! We were flabbergasted. You were also adding and subtracting with grapes and crackers. It was a little scary for me. I was envisioning the day you got smarter than me. Still hasn't happened, but it's drawing near.

You turned four and were growing like mad. Still sweet, but your strong will was asserting itself. You loved this dress, but thought the basket of daisies was dumb. It took a looooong time to get this picture.

At five, you were obsessed with Toy Story 2 and begged for a Jessie costume. Your Grandma Marilyn was happy to whip up this little number for you. You wore it every day, for what seemed like forever. The day it no longer fit was the end of the world.

Kindergarten pictures. The big K was pretty rough. You and your teacher had a personality conflict and she was completely unprepared to deal with a five year old as stubborn and smart as you. We moved as well, into an apartment. By ourselves, we struggled a bit. It was great, but a little scary for both of us. We endured. About the time we were settled in to living with just the two of us, Mr. Clairol came into our lives. And another transition period started. You had such a hard time with your father's remarriage that I dreaded becoming serious with him. You tested. You pushed. You aggravated. And he still loved you. You grew to love and trust him.

You are a continuous source of amazement to him. I'll never forget the first sleepover and his surprise that you girls were still jabbering at midnight. He asked me once, "Does she ever quit talking?" I had to answer no.
Gradually, Mr Clairol has usurped Poppy's role in your life. This was the last father-daughter dance you attended with Poppy. MC graciously let Poppy have one more night with his princess. We went from this to this.
And then the father-daughter dances ended and Mr. Clairol was relegated to chaperonage as you started attended school dances. It's still hard for him. I think he misses the days of willful six-year-old tantrums. They are far less scary for him than this.


Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. You are such a smart, lovely young woman and we are so very proud to call ourselves your parents. Here's to the next year and all that it holds. Including high school. *shudder*

Sunday's Money

I'm pretty stressed about money these days. Our income seems to be shrinking. Mostly, it's due to lack of work at the dealership. It's really hard to scrimp and save, not spending any extra and still come up short at mortgage time. We're even getting help from my folks, which I hate, but have to do.

This is a bad time to be so poor. Usually, we're pretty well-set during this time of year, so it's especially sucky to be broke. I'm not liking austerity.

But the beauty of this situation is how it has sharpened my focus on what's truly important. Not having enough means you have to separate the wheat from the chaff. My goal is to take the frugality I am learning now and apply it the rest of my life. Keeping it simple has allowed my faith to flourish in what might otherwise be a time of spiritual dryness.

I'm praying more. I'm less distracted by the stuff we "need" and more focused on this job I signed up for: Stay-at-home mothering. Since I'm not running over to Target for this and that, I have more time at night to write, to maintain the house and to enjoy my family. What a blessing. Since I'm limiting my weekend shopping, the same thing applies.

One thing that has absolutely killed me? Passing up the new JD Robb book at Sam's Club. Oh, how I wanted that book. Lust is not too strong a word! But I knew the $15 it would cost could be better spent elsewhere, so I denied myself. Later in the week, I was back in the store and in a moment of weakness, I went to pick up a copy. There were no more left! God is SO good. Now if He could just remove the food temptations, I would be set.

I'm actually doing well in that area as well. This past week, I have tracked my food intake, exercised 4 out of 7 days and lost about 8 pounds. So perhaps restraint is becoming a habit. Wouldn't that be lovely? Restraint has never been my strong suit. But I'm finding the financial lessons are informing other areas of my life. So the suckiness of poverty has a silver lining. That doesn't mean I won't be happy to have some money in savings that isn't destined for a mortgage payment.

You Might Be A Stay At Home Mom Saturday

If you've ever spent most of a twenty minute drive with one arm over the seat, tickling, prodding and yes, gently pinching a toddler to keep him awake, just so he will nap at home, you might be a stay at home mom. Because we all know nap time is golden.

In Time For Date Night

I know we're all tired of the political stuff, but David posted this and I wanted to mention it as well. For those of you opposed to Prop 8, the head of Cinemark Theaters donated $9,999 to the campaign for Prop 8. The No on 8 campaign has asked for a boycott of the Cinemark theaters, which include Century, CineArts and Tinsel Town theaters.

Why this? Why now? Because on Sunday, Andrea and I are ferrying a gaggle of girls to see the new Twilight movie. Rather than attend the theater closest to me, I am traveling about 35 miles to get to a Regal theater. That's how much it means to me, still. I guess this means Andrea and I will have to suck it up and see the movie as well. Sigh.

Yeah, I'm lying. We were totally going to see it anyway! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Okay, the liberal politics portion of the day is officially over!

Honesty

One of my favorite bloggers, Heather over at Want What You Have, gave me this Honest Blogger award yesterday. I am extremely flattered. There's something about an award from someone you respect...it just makes you feel shiny. In a good way, not the I need to powder my nose way.

Here's what you have to do to play.

"When you receive the prize, you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in their content or design. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing that they were prized with 'Honest Weblog'. List [if you can and/or dare] at least ten honest things about yourself. Then, pass it on!"

Ten honest things about me:

1) I am obsessed with clean sheets and a well made bed. I don't need Egyptian cotton 800 thread count sheets. In fact, my favorite sheets are a set of percale that I bought at Tar-Jay four years ago. I change my sheets at least once a week. I make my bed almost every morning and am compelled to make sure the blanket hangs evenly on each side.

2) My most favorite book of all time is a romance novel by Andrea Kane called Samantha. I read it so many times, my copy fell apart. It's out of print, but I still look for it, every time I go to a used book sale. My second favorite books are all of the Stephanie Plum books by Janet Evanovich or the In Death books by JD Robb. JD Robb is not for the modest. After that, it's all Jane Austen, Bronte sisters and Milan Kundera. The Book of Laughter and Forgetting is possibly the most beautifully written book ever written. I will forever be grateful to Dr. Noble for making me read it.

3) Once, when my car broke down, I opted not to call a family member, instead calling my friend. I refused assistance from her, asking her to call Mr. Clairol (then just an aquaintance). I claimed I was a little scared because the neighborhood wasn't great and he was much closer. I wasn't scared. I was just trying to get his attention. It worked and you know what? I'm not even a little ashamed.

4) In my pre-Clairol days, I once pretended to sleep on the way home from a date, so I wouldn't have to talk to the man.

5) I fervently wish that I was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am not saying this to be funny. If God said to me today, "Pick who you want to be," I'm 99% sure I'd say Buffy. And I'd totally be with Spike, not Angel. Or I might steal Oz from Willow...you know, back before she was a lesbian. Tara didn't really do it for me. I find Seth Green oddly hot.

6) I am horrible about writing thank-you notes. I did not send out notes for either of my weddings. I am ashamed of this.

7) I once threatened to cut off my ex-husband's naughty bits off with a knife. I would probably have done it too. He's lucky he ran fast back then. No, I didn't chase him. I did lock him out of the apartment. It kind of backfired, since he spent the night with a campus hoochie.

8) I have a major crush on James Scott, the actor who plays EJ DiMera on Days of Our Lives. I have to fast forward past the romantic and shirtless scenes, so I don't mentally cheat on my husband. It's that bad.

9) I forget to leave Tooth Fairy money under my children's pillows 90% of the time. Once, when Drama Queen was small, she was inconsolable because the Tooth Fairy hadn't left any money. I smuggled a quarter in and acted like I had a major brainstorm. "Maybe it slipped behind the bed!" I exclaimed. She crawled under, found the quarter and I palmed the tooth. When she wondered where it went, I claimed that the tooth fairy didn't take the tooth until you found the money. I am a gifted liar.

10) I am dental-phobic. I haven't been to a dentist in four years. It had been ten before that. This is bad, since my parents spent copious amounts of cash on my orthodonture and two bridges that fill holes left by my missing eye teeth. I've never had them. Apparently, it's a genetic condition. My paternal aunt doesn't have eye teeth either. Weird, huh?

So there you go. I know, you're riveted. I would be too. And I'm supposed to choose seven bloggers to pass this onto, but I'm going to give you a bonus eleventh honest thing: I am an unrepentant cheater. I cheat at cards, solitaire, Scrabble, everything except marriage. And I'm cheating here too. Rather than name seven bloggers and put pressure on you to participate, I'm opening this up for everyone. If you want to play, use Mr. Linky down there (my first! I was a Mr. Linky virgin before this) and link to your Ten Honest Things post.

Shilling For A Friend

This morning, this was in my inbox:

How does a girl ask for you to vote for her without coming across as... self-absorbed/ needy/desperate?I don't know, but if you know, pretend I'm asking you to vote for me in a real selfless way.You see, I have an opportunity to win a $250 Visa gift card and a badge from Divine Caroline my blog so I can brag. It's called the "love this site" awards. But I can't win without votes, and you probably won't know you can vote for me unless I do a little self- promotion. Also, the voting ends Nov. 30, and the leader in my category (play) already has 120 votes :) The catch (beyond you loving my site)... you have to register with the site to vote. So, no expectations.Here's the skinny and you can delete this email or vote as you please - even for others! Seriously! I've voted for a few myself. Plus, you don't have anything to do... right? :)I should give you the link, huh... can you tell I feel funny doing this? But not funny enough not to...http://www.divinecaroline.com/awards/1638-jenny-on-the-spot



She's my best friend, and what kind of friend would I be, if I didn't spread the word? So, if you can, please go vote for my Jenny.

And I Didn't Even Have To Sacrifice A Virgin

So, last night, I had a preschool meeting and I realized at four o'clock I had neglected to defrost anything for dinner. Crapitola. Then, my brother calls and says, "Hey I have a tray of sandwiches left over from my meeting today, do you want them?"

Jesus loves me. A LOT!

Save Me A Spot At The Freak Show

I got this comment from Well Behaved Krissy and it cracked me up.

"Hey you suck at being quiet. I thought you were taking some time off girlfriend? haha"

Yes. I do suck at being quiet. It's one of many things I don't do well. I will continue to write here. I made a commitment to Blog365 and I am so close now, I can't give up. My quietness will come in the form of lurking on all of your blogs. I found myself writing short, lame little comments and I hate that. I will be here, reading you guys and when the spirit moves, I'll chime in.

Now, onto the main event:



Holy Frickin' Hades. Am I really that fat??? Daaaaaa-uhm. It's funny. You look at yourself in the mirror every day. I always thought, hmmm, not great, but not that bad. Mr. Clairol never complains. But you don't realize how other people see you. Until you get a picture like this. And then, you realize you are a giant heifer.

That is my favorite shirt. I love it. I feel pretty in it. And now I realize it is a tent. This is bad.

Soooo, with this picture as motivation, I am now hitting it hard. I keep making half hearted starts, but this is too much. I've ordered a print to put on my fridge, just to remind myself. I know David's "on the wagon," Krissy as well. I'm Sparking again and walking with my man every night.

I know, I know...you've heard this song and dance before. But the answer is not giving up because you've tried and failed. The answer is to get back on it and try again. And again. And again. And again, ad nauseum.

So here we go. Again.

Sisters and Brother

My children have a very sweet relationship right now. Red loves both his sisters, though frequently, they wish for a little less love and little more leave me alone. You know how that is. But this morning, Red knocked his noggin and ran past me straight to Missy Hoohaw. She wrapped her arms around him and cooed, "It's okay, buddy, it's alright," then kissed him on the head. And he was fine.

I admit to a little bit of, "Hey! I'm the mommy!" But it does warm my heart that she is so loving and maternal, especially with her stinky little brother. He wants to do everything with her and the older he gets, the more she's okay with that.

Drama Queen is just as popular. She emerges from her bedroom in the morning and he lights right up, saying "Goo Mornin', Tay."He watches her make her breakfast with something that seems an awful lot like reverence. When she graces us with her presence, he is right beside her, preferring her hand to Mom or Dad's. She tolerates it with good grace and plays with him when she can spare the time.

It makes me feel good that my children have this time of loving interaction, because I know the brawling is inevitable and approaching fast.

Lurking

I've been absent for a while, it seems. Short, half-ass posts or none at all. This Blog365 is getting old.

But it's not just here. I've been lurking at my favorite blogs, nothing much to say. My email responses seem to be a bit short, to the point, even curt.

I don't like that. It's not who I am. I want to have long conversations with you people, emailing back and forth, sometimes three or four times a day. I want to leave thoughtful comments, funny when appropriate, sympathetic when needed.

But I feel empty. Not depressed. The drugs are doing their job. The highs aren't as high and the lows aren't as low. That's good. It's just that the words seem to have dried up for now.

Is it okay if I lurk for a while? I love you all and I can't tell you how much reading all of you feeds my soul. I love that you come here and read my written babble. I'll try to keep it good here. I promise not to resort to lists of what I accomplished.

I think it's that my family, kids, parents and husband, need more of me now. It's strange that a toddler and a preschooler demand more of you than tiny babies, but it's the God's honest truth that they do. Especially now, with Drama Queen's 14th birthday looming, Thanksgiving on the way and Christmas not far behind.

I'm here. It's just a quiet time for my soul. And keyboard.

Sunday's Money

I want to talk about entertainment today. I really want to hear from you guys on this.

Entertainment is one of those budget items that gets sneaky. The expenses creep up on you. We started counting our satellite bill under entertainment. I'm pleased to report that I barely ever thing about more than the local channels anymore. We have a Netflix account, which we've pared back to one movie at a time. It's $4.95 a month which is less than the cost of a DVD at Blockbuster. Yet we still carry that account. Last month, we rented 6 movies from them, for a whopping total of $36.00. No more Blockbuster!

We also discovered the discount theater. The movies are late -run, even overlapping the video release in some cases, but it's in our neighborhood and tickets are $3.00 apiece. We don't do that as often, since you must factor in babysitting. It's a once in while treat.

We used to go out for drinks once every other week or so. Just a beer at the neighborhood Chile's, but boy, that's expensive! We hardly ever eat out anymore, reserving that for special occasions. We did discover Restaurant.com. You can purchase gift certificates for local eateries for half the face value. They also run frequent specials, taking 10-50% off. Check with Mir over at Want Not for the latest discount codes. It's a great way to eat out, if you're not fond of chains (and I am not!)

I'll confess, one of Mr. Clairol's favorite dates is a walk. Not my idea of good times, and he never gets lucky after those, but he likes them, so I go. And it is nice to talk. The lack of distraction allows us to listen to each other. Plus, it's free. Which is good.

What do you do for entertainment? Is it a line item in your budget? What do you include? Eating out? Gas for drives? Talk to me...I'm interested.

Sick. Very, very sick. More later.

caps optional

i'm typing this one-handed. mind out of the gutter, please. red has decided that this morning will be spent cuddled in my lap. and that's just fine with me.

i wish i could describe how lovely his curls feel against my cheek. how sweet he smells and the weight of his small body is the sweetest burden i will ever bear.

And now he is gone and I find that the ability to capitalize letters is highly overrated.

Outside

I have a good feeling about the Welbutrin. Today, my kids wanted to go outside, and it didn't seem like a Herculean effort to take them. I pushed them on the swings. I started clearing the tomato bed. We played a little soccer, raked some leaves, played catch and picked the last of the tomatoes. It was good.

I'm ashamed to say how long it's been since I've done that simple mothering task. They would ask and the idea of getting their shoes on and keeping them out of the pool seemed gargantuan. Too much for me. So I said no. I turned on a video. I read them a book.

I would get angry with myself. Why was I so damned lazy? Why was taking my children out into the sunshine for an hour such a big deal? But I think it wasn't lazy. I think it was depression. I think my lack of motivation to exercise has been depression. I'm pretty sure my inability to keep up with basic housekeeping was depression. I think this desire to sleep all the friggin' time and my lassitude...well, you get the drift.

We'll see. But I have to tell you, I'm feeling pretty rosy.

Things I've Learned

When a prescription says do not drink alcohol, you should follow that advice. Especially if said prescription is Wellbutrin.

I drank a half a glass of red wine last night and it knocked me on my ass. I felt like I had downed 4 tequila shots with whiskey chasers. And I'm not at all proud that I know what that feels like. Okay, a little proud. I digress.

The feeling passed after an hour or so, but I am going to have to bid wine and all alcohol a fond adieu, at least until I have a better grip on my depression. Au revoir, wine. Adios, tequila. God speed, whiskey. Catch ya later, beer.

It's the sober life for me.

Shut Up, I'm Reading

I'm sorry, but you guys won't be getting much from me for a few days. A year ago, I started this Dark Hunter series by Sherilyn Kenyon and I sort of got hooked by these books. There's a central character that's a total enigma. In a dozen books, you know practically nothing about him.

Until now. She's released his story and I waited two freaking months to get it from the library. So I'm reading. Don't complain, because my family is out of clean clothes and eating whatever they can scavenge. It could be worse.

Wait. It's Not Monday???

Has anyone else noticed I'm a day behind? This is what happens when you write posts and schedule. You have to be really careful about the days you input. So this is Monday's post and I'll put up Tuesday's tonight.

I'm encouraged to see so many of you saying $40/ week seems unreasonable to you. It makes me feel as if I'm not a hopeless spendthrift. Heather steered me towards the USDA's spending guide and I've forwarded that to our advisers. Not that I'm defensive or anything.

Also, what is this Dollar General? We don't have those here and I'm feeling a wee bit deprived, y'all. I l-o-v-e me a dollar store, but mine doesn't run to food. Okay, it does have food, but none of it are brands I recognize and a lot of it has labels I can't read. Plus, that Today segment about dollar store food scared the be-jeezuz outta me, so I can't go there. Talk to me when Mr. Clairol's hours get cut again.

BUT! I did find a scratch and dent store. HALLELUJAH! I'll only get canned and boxed goods there, but a lot of it is even cheaper than my Ghetto Grocery. Yay!

In other news, I'm starting a winter garden. Cabbage, some hardier lettuces, potatoes, carrots, spinach and onion. I'm excited. This will be my first attempt at winter growing. Does anyone have advice for mild winter climates? And yes, I will be posting pictures. You know how I like to brag.

Sunday's Money

First, I need to clarify that Saturday's post was not about me. I was talking with a mom friend, and she was relating that day to me. Of course, I thought, there's the You Might Be A SAHM. So, I'm not sick and my Saturday was actually delicious. But thank you for your well wishes and be assured, I'm passing them onto my friend!


Onto the money. I'm trying really hard to cut our grocery bill. Currently, I'm spending between $60 and $90 a week. Our financial advisers recommend around $40. Yet one more reason why I suspect they might be smoking crack. I have three adults and two children to feed. $40 just ain't gonna happen. But I am making progress.

I find that poverty tends to lower your standards. The generic raisin bran that doesn't taste quite as good as the name brand? When it's between that and nothing, sounds good to me. The meat that has the $2.00 off coupon attached because it's close to it's sell by date? Yep, it'll be fine in the freezer. Generic cream cheese? I'm all over it.

I used to be loyal to certain brands. It's only a few cents more, I'd reason. But these days, even a few cents matter, so I'm doing a lot of generic food. I'm checking for scratch and dent stores, but they're thin on the ground here. I've cut out most of our luxury items, with the notable exception of Mountain Dew. Mr. Clairol, in the grip of Dew withdrawal, is not fun to be around. But things like fruit snacks and Pop-Tarts are no more.

And coupons? Not so much. I tried for a while, but there are some conditions you have to meet, in order to be successful with them. You need to go to a double coupon store. There isn't one around these parts and after investigation, I found that they jack up prices on other items to recoup the loss. You also need to buy brand name items. Once in a blue moon, the coupon price will be less than the generic, but in my experience, that is definitely an exception. If generic is cheaper, I'm going generic. I do use coupons, when I find them, for things like coffee creamer and certain name brand items that I always get. But for the most part, I'm not a coupon girl. If you use coupons, I would suggest checking into The Grocery Game.

So here's my supermarket strategy. I plan my week's menu, based on what meat I have in the freezer and make my list. I grab my bags and hit the road. I always hit Walmart first. That's where I get the cleaning supplies, paper goods and certain frozen foods. Then I head over to Winco (also known as Grocery Ghetto) and buy my main groceries. There are certain staple items that I almost always buy. Apples, potatoes, onions, etc. I cruise the butcher case and see what's marked down or on sale. I keep it under $2.50/pound. After meat, I stick to the list. Occasionally, I'll see something that catches my fancy, but I leave it. If I still want it after I'm done and the groceries are packed, I might go back for it. It mostly depends on how much I've spent and if I want it badly enough to go back. I'm pretty lazy, so this strategy tends to work for me.

I bring my own bags for two reasons. Most important, I hate plastic bags. HATE THEM. It isn't me being all green either. They are a pain to store and I never reuse enough to get through all that I would bring home. I'm even looking at muslin bags for my bulk purchases, just to cut the plastic consumption a little more. Another reason: Winco credits you 6 cents per bag. That doesn't seem like a lot, but I usually pack 5-6 bags and that accumulates.

Once a month, I hit the warehouse store. This is an exercise in restraint for me. My name is Jennie and I am a Costco addict. There is just so much great stuff there! And this time of year is the worst. Wrapping paper as far as the eye can see. Christmas lights! Candy! I'm like a four-year-old. So I cruise the food aisle first and nibble on the samples. Then I buy the necessities, keeping a running total on a calculator. We buy dog food, toilet paper, paper towels, butter and diapers at Costco. Those things are a better deal in bulk. But I've had to pay attention.

This brings me to the most important advice. Pay attention. That is how you will save money. Heather keeps a price book, logging how much she pays for items and tracking what is a good price for the things she buys regularly. I'm putting one together, but it is slow going and you have to be committed. I realized a long time ago that stores who feature memberships usually are shafting you with the items that aren't on sale. Lately, it seems that even the things that are on sale are cheaper at Winco or WalMart. But even these bastions of cheapness aren't immune to the ripoff. For weeks, I've picked up MC's Dew at WalMart, because it was significantly cheaper. When I went to buy it this week, the price had been jacked up 20 cents. I felt violated, children.
It was the same price at Winco, so I bought it, but I wasn't happy.

So there you have it. How I'm trying to save money. If you have suggestions, please pass them along. I'd love to figure out how to feed my family on a paltry $40 a week.

You Might Be A Stay At Home Mom Saturday

If you can do 4 loads of laundry, make breakfast, lunch and dinner, bake 2 dozen cupcakes for a bakesale, take one child to soccer practice and the other to the doctor, pick up juice and ground beef at the supermarket, put a package in the mail, order coats for the kids online, write a blog entry and clean up a nasty mess on the carpet, all while running a 102 degree fever, you might be a stay at home mom.

If you can do all this, plus finish a project that's only one day past deadline, you might be a work at home mom.

If you can do all this and stay awake for the staff meeting form hell, you might be a work outside the home mom.

And At The Other End Of The Spectrum

In addition to wrapping our minds around high school for DQ, Mr Clairol and I are trying to decide what Missy Hoohaw's kindergarten experience will look like. Back when I was a kid, it was easy. Corcoran had one school. One class. One teacher. Luckily, I have fond memories of the big K.

Drama Queen was similarly easy. We were living with my parents at the time in the boondocks. The local school had a great reputation and I didn't investigate it thoroughly. I enrolled DQ and never realizing what disaster was looming. And it was an ever-lovin' disaster.

But now, with Missy, the choices are numerous. Our area has a number of charter schools, including a Waldorf and a Montessori. We have a school down the street from us and another great school with rave parent reviews, in the immediate vicinity. I'm swimming in a Kindergarten sea!

So many choices are great, but they make it hard. I'm fairly sure that Missy needs a non-traditional setting. She's smart, but very much a free-spirit. So does this mean that more structure is needed? Or perhaps a less restrictive environment would benefit her. I don't know.

So I'm setting up visitations. I'll be looking at all of these programs. I'll be weighting the benefits and sacrifices. Waldorf scares me a little, because they ask you to commit to no weekday TV. Yikes! Of course, the Waldorf program is the one that seems tailor-made for Missy. Sigh.

Does anyone out there have Kindergarten experience they want to share? I'm open to any and all advice. Except home-schooling. Not gonna happen. I think it's great, but it's not for Missy and definitely not for me.

My Baby's Growing Up 101

Yesterday, I glimpsed the future. It scared the ever-loving shit outta me, too.

It started at 8:00 am, watching a composed group of young adults sitting around a conference table, visiting with teachers and parents. Drama Queen and friends were squirreling around, being your typical eighth grade spazoids. The gap between them and the composed young people at the table was glaring. Watching those seniors watch our kids, tolerant smiles and expressions that read, "were we ever that young," I suddenly realized that Drama Queen's spaz days are numbered.

We visited class after class. Physics. Calculus. Economics. Theory of Knowledge (which, hi, can I audit a high school class?). Spanish, German and Japanese. Drama. Chemistry. They were reading An Enemy Of The People in Freshman English. Oh God, please help me not cry.

Hordes of teenagers surrounded us at intervals and I could see boys sizing up our crowd of girls. That didn't bother me. The look in Drama Queen's eyes, when we entered the Drama class and saw their sets for Night Of The Living Dead was magical. Even seeing her laugh with our senior tour guide was great. But then they talked college and Tour Guide began telling DQ about waiting to hear from Stanford. My stomach twisted as I realized, in four short years, this woman, this girl, this baby that I once carried inside me, will be leaving my care and striking out on her own.

Thank goodness I have some time to acclimate to that idea. Right now, it's fluttering around in my mind like a moth, banging against the screen. It's persistent, refusing to be buried in the flotsam of the day. It's annoying, refusing to be denied as being far away. Because it isn't. In a few short weeks, she will be fourteen and I am truly baffled at how quickly those years have gone by. Four more will be a mere wink. And then, she'll don cap and gown. She'll walk down an aisle, then down our steps. She'll make a life, creating a space for herself in that cold, exciting, hazardous world.

My job will change. I will become more friend, less parent. Advisor still, but without the power to enforce the good sense. She'll be free to make major mistakes. I won't be able to protect her. All the lessons I've tried to teach will be in place, but whether they'll inform her decisions will be entirely up to her. I'll be merely a consultant, the active work finished, for better or worse.

I hope I'll have done a good enough job.

Wha? Huh? Zzzzzzzz

First off, let me say, California? I am disappointed in you. Also, Mormon Church? Way to blow millions on a proposition that may have passed but will certainly be overturned in the courts. Not like there are homeless people that need help or anything. I'm sure God is really proud of you.

I am far too tired and far too muddled to write an actual, coherent post. Let me leave you with this teaser.

DQ and I visited her future high school today.

Let's Be Done

It's election day. I'm pretty numb from anxiety and I'm not sure why.

Last night, while picking up a last minute report cover for DQ, Mr. Clairol and I passed by a huge demonstration. On one side of a major thoroughfare were proponents of Prop 8. On the other side, the opponents. Both sides were screaming invective at each other. It broke my heart. Screaming, "FAGGOTS!" across a six lane street doesn't exactly spread the light of God, folks.

I drive by a fence that has been whitewashed and covered with pro-Obama messages. It is regularly defaced with racist messages and hateful words. Every evening, the home owners come back out and cover the hate. Hope in action.

I read the hysterical forwards, warning that Barack Obama is a Muslim and a terrorist and I get tired. I'm so tired of referring people to Snopes. I read scathing humor directed at John McCain and I want to weep. Not because I support him. I don't agree with many of his policies. I think the last few years of his career have been a massive sellout to the current administration. But that doesn't change the fact that for most of his life, McCain has served this country to the best of his ability. He deserves some respect.

I'm tired of Palin jokes. I'm tired of seeing how petty and horrible we really are as a people. I just want it to be over. I'll be devastated if what I supported does not come to pass. I hate to think of the alternative. But for now, I'm just numb.

Legitimized Begging

Halloween started off with a whimper. My whimper, if we're being specific. But after the rocky start, things evened out, thankyousweetbabyJay-sus!


Drama Queen was determined to make me homicidal. Why, I do not know. Perhaps she wanted her friends to see that I truly am a horrible, mean, unfair, yelling witch. Mission accomplished. In my defense, if I ask you for two weeks to decide on a movie you want, so I can request it from Netflix and you repeatedly tell me, "no, we just want to watch old Bones episodes," you can't really be surprised when a request to rent movies at Blockbuster sends me into a sputtering rage. I also don't think my refusing to go to the grocery store for ice-cream is unfair when we have a large bowl of candy waiting to be consumed. But I'm not a teenage girl, so maybe I have it all wrong. We compromised, with me driving to the video store and DQ paying for her own rentals. I even let an additional friend join the two I had at home. In case you're wondering, this in no way detracted from my meanness.

Trick-or-treating was a delightful surprise. After Missy's morning melt-down, I expected that convincing her to knock on stranger's doors would be a Sisyphean task. It was not. This should be proof that God is merciful and loves his children. Missy ran to each door, knocked loudly, said the requisite trick or treat. She would not allow the candy to be placed in her bag. She has her limits and the bag is apparently sacred. But she did accept the candy in her hand and lovingly deposit it. She would then thank the giver and turn to me asking, "Can we go to the next house?" When I would say okay, she'd leap in the air and shout "Ya-HOOO!" I am not even exaggerating a little bit.

Red gave each woman a hug and tried to walk into every house. He loves other people's homes. He also loves running up and down driveways. I suspect that the candy was entirely extraneous. That's okay, because Red on a sugar high is not something I'm all that anxious to experience. He did have a lollipop about halfway through, a bribe to convince him that sitting in the stroller was not, in fact, the end of the world. Much like the Tootsie-pop Owl, it takes Red three licks and he's done. Of course, he does not bite the sucker. He simply tosses it and if it lands in Mommy's hair, so much the better.

In the end, we all survived. A third of the candy has been packed off to friends and co-coworkers. I'm editing our stash down, so that each child has a piece of candy for each day through the end of the week. The rest is going away. I'm investigating the possibility of sending it to the troops overseas or perhaps to a homeless shelter. But it must go away and quickly. My fat jeans are now too small and I'll be good and damned if I will buy a size 24 pants.

Sunday's Money

The temptation starts in August and picks ups steam until in December, I'm quivering with restraint every time I enter a store. It used to be just Target, but the Costco, Walmart, even the freakin' grocery store became meccas of my favorite holiday indulgence: decorations.

I love me some holiday tchotchkes. Halloween, sure. But also fall and Christmas. I have tall glass vases that sit on wooden holders mounted to my living room wall. The cases are always filled with seasonal type items. Right now, they are filled with miniature foam gourds. After Thanksgiving, I'll switch the gourds out for some miniature christmas ball ornaments. In the summer, they are filled with mini beach balls. I know, I'm a goof.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I could easily spend hundreds, nay, thousands, of dollars on holiday foof. I need to reign myself in, for many reasons. Most immediately, our budget is shrinking and let's face it, you can't eat ceramic snowmen. Adorable don't fill your belly, unless you're Katie Couric. Then there is the spiritual side of it. For about a year and a half, I have felt that our possessions are a mountain that I am having to scale, just to see God. I don't want my life to be like that. Plus, I want my children to have an appreciation of the spiritual side of the holiday; to enjoy the presents and furbelows, but to also have a bone-deep knowledge that the holidays have a Godly core. Lastly (and leastly) there is the rapid fillin of every available flat surface in my home. I don't really have room for much more stuff. As it is, I'm having to weed through my Christmas stuff and only put out what I truly love. Sigh. But I LUUUUUUUUV it AWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

Still, buying no decorations makes my heart hurt. So, I've worked out a little compromise with my acquisitive side. I allow myself one seasonal type purchase, per holiday, per year. I always keep it under $10 and usually, under $5. This way, I have a new little pretty to enjoy during the season. After the holiday is over, I usually allow myself another $10 to pick up a clearance item. This year, things are so very tight, that I am doing one or the other. If I see something I love and have the perfect place for it, I'll pick it up. But otherwise, I'm going to wait for clearances. I have a feeling that with the economy being the way it is, there will be a veritable treasure trove this year.

It's time to pack up the Halloween things for another year (sigh) and break out the fall paraphenalia. I can't wait for Christmas!

You Might Be A Stay At Home Mom Saturday

If you have a cross-referenced rating system for parks and treat all car time as a reconnaissance mission to find new, cool play areas, you might be a stay-at-home-mom.