Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I suppose it was too much to hope that I could enjoy the Olympics without having to talk about politics, but I was wrong.

I don’t even like sports, but last night during the opening ceremony, I kept getting teary.  Why?  Because the Olympics are one of the few moments that we share as human beings.  Chances are, eyes from ever single country on this planet are watching (or watched) the same thing I was watching.  Chances are good L’s family in China saw it too.

When ever Chinese person we knew was getting more and more excited about the olympics in Beijing, I poo-poo-ed  it.  I thought it was a big deal over nothing.  But when I saw it?  It was a big freaking deal.  It was something Chinese people could be proud of.

It was a moment where the country of China was saying “We want to be a respected member of the international community.  We want to play with the big boys.  We want your respect and admiration and we are willing to bend over fucking backwards and pay through the nose to get it.”

That moment, where the admiring eyes of the world watched one of the most spectacular performances I have ever seen, was not about the Chinese government.  It was about the Chinese *PEOPLE*.  One-fifth of the world’s population that has been trying to claw its way back into respectability for the last 35 years.  Can’t the Chinese people have a couple weeks where they can be proud of the massive accomplishments they have made in the last three decades?

Is the Chinese government fucked up?  Heck yeah!  They oppress their minorities, deny women and families their reproductive rights and force people to move for public work projects.

Is the Chinese government any more fucked up than the US government?  It depends on who you ask.  In case you are forgetting, the US government is responsible for this and this and this.  Oh wait, there is this and this and this and this.  Seriously, I could google US human rights abuses and misdeeds until my fingers bleed.

Do I wish the Chinese government would have saved the money they spent on the Olympics and spent it for their orphans or the poor or whatever?  Sure.  But I also wish the US government would save the $3 TRILLION dollars it is spending on the Iraq war to provide health care for poor people in America too.  Besides, I would rather watch the fireworks in China than watch US bombs blow people up.

You don’t like the Chinese government?  Fine.  Protest all you want.  Boycott Chinese-made goods.  Ooooh, maybe you won’t even watch the Olympics.   Is that going to do diddly-squat to change things in China?  Heck no, it won’t.

The Chinese government isn’t going to straighten up its act if we isolate and shame them.  What makes countries behave themselves is being a member of the larger community of developed nations.

When China grows up –and it WILL grow up eventually, because you can’t keep down a fifth of the world’s population if they have a lust for education and wealth like the Chinese — it will have to answer not only to the rest of the world.  The Chinese government is going to have to answer to the Chinese PEOPLE.  People who will eventually be relatively wealthy and educated and plugged in to the global community.
The Chinese people have tasted the Big Mac and they want more.  They want more and they want to be better, just like most of the rest of the citizens of this planet.

Sure some wrinkly old guys are trying to cling desperately to their party’s place in the corrupt power structure, but then, we have that here too.

China is changing faster than pretty much anywhere else on the planet.  It is impossible to predict what will happen there in 10 or 20 years, but I will go out on a limb and bet there is democracy in China in my lifetime.  (Not that democracy prevents human rights violations, as the US is so eager to demonstrate time and again.)  Things are changing there for the better and I expect the trend to continue, but it won’t happen over night.

It isn’t every day we get the honor of a truly global event.  This week, our family is going to enjoy watching the Olympics with the rest of the world.  You now, with all those people whose governments are imperfect but whose citizens hope for something better, just like us.

If you want to talk smack about Chinese politics, I am not going to provide the venue for it on my blog.  Not this week.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Damn, wasn’t the Olympic opening ceremony pretty effing awesome?  I mean, no one else  can throw a couple thousand performers out there and do it as well as the Chinese.

I asked Mr. A what he thought as we were watching:

Me: “So, you are impressed?”

Mr.A: “Yes.”

Me: “What are you thinking?”

Mr. A: “I should have worked harder at learning Chinese.”

Me: “Does it make you feel proud of your people?”

Mr. A: “Yes, but also a little scared.”

Me: “Scared?”

Mr. A: “Yeah, see how those guys are walking all over that big lit-up globe?  It is like they are saying ‘We are coming to take over the world with our massive numbers and ostentatious display of new found wealth!’”

Me: “Yup, I can see how one might interpret it that way…but look!  There are the happy faces of all the children of the world flashing on the screens.  They are smiling because they are happy to be conquered by the wealthy Chinese masses!  If they manage the world has well as they have managed the opening ceremony, we will all be happier once China rules the world!  Just give into your Chinese-ruled destiny, my friend.”

Mr. A: “Man, the Chinese are good at propaganda.”

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

On to less serious topics…

• Only 3 weeks until school starts.  I already bought all M’s school supplies, her lunch box/thermos and backpack.  We aren’t really going to buy her any new clothes until the weather turns chilly.  We are super-duper fortunate that my good friend sends M and L her girls’ hand-me-downs and they are in immaculate condition.  M may end up needing a few sweaters/jeans, but she will be dressed to the nines in name brand or boutique beautiful dresses and outfits for the first couple months.  She will need two new pairs of shoes so I am going to go get her feet measured today so I can order them online.  I am thinking she will probably need a pair of maryjanes and maybe some tennis / gym shoes.

• Since we don’t have to buy new clothes, I am going to indulge myself and buy new socks for both M and L.  Despite my best efforts to buy them all all the same kinds of only black and white socks, we seem to not have any matching pairs anywhere in this house.  WTF??  I am so fed up, I am just going to throw all the old socks away and start fresh.

• Is it wrong that I already google-stalked all the kindergarten teachers?

• Our shopping hiatus is officially over today. (We extended it one week into august because we didn’t want to worry so much about expenses on vacation in July)   I tried desperately to cheat and buy myself some much-needed new t-shirts and fall clothes last weekend but came home completely empty handed.  Apparently, this year the designers have decided that women are actually 7 feet tall, so the t-shirts all hang down to the bottom of my ass.  Is it too hard to make a standard, regular length t-shirt?

• Today, I read this article and then downloaded the Edison program.  We are working on making small changes to help cut our energy usage, so maybe this will help a little.  I have also been trying to unplug appliances we are not using.  Baby steps, but every little bit helps, right?

Over and out.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

For lack of anything more interesting to say, this post is inspired by Princess Nebraska’s story prompt.

I wouldn’t say it was my best idea.  One summer evening when I was 12 and having a friend sleep over at my house, I decided that I would show off by sneaking alcohol out of my parent’s liquor cabinet.

My parents have never been big drinkers.  An occasional beer or maybe Fuzzy Navel was about as adventurous as they got.  This meant that the selection I had to choose from was small.  All I could find was a bottle of Peach Schnapps and a bottle of Root Beer Schnapps.  My friend and I mixed them together in a big cup and swilled them down.  Then we fell asleep.
As you might imagine, the combination of various schnapps and a ninety-pound sixth grader didn’t mix particularly well.  It wasn’t long before I woke up vomiting all over the basement couch.  It was a particularly nasty smell as the mix of beef-a-roni and flammable root beer alcohol filled the air. My friend panicked and ran to get my parents.

When my mom came to clean up the mess, she did not seem to notice anything was amiss.  “It must have been bad beef-a-roni.”  I told her as I stumbled up the stairs to my bed.

The next morning, I had a bitty-league softball game.  When I got up, my parents deemed me healthy enough to attend.  I didn’t mention my nausea and my splitting headache.  In retrospect, I wonder if they suspected we had been drinking because they served particularly runny eggs.  Maybe they were trying to punish me by making my hangover worse.

That was the beginning of a series of bad choices that went unnoticed or unacknowledged by my parents until I left for college.  Did they really not notice the occasional binge drinking?  The saying I was at the library when I was really sleeping with hanging out with a skateboarder boy?  The sneaking off to the nearest big city to hang out in college bars?  There were a million instances where I was convinced I had outsmarted them.
If my children happen to read this in their adolescent years, I want to take this time to assure them:   I will notice.  And there *will* be consequences.

While I don’t think there is anything necessarily wrong with experimentation and sneaking around (isn’t that the job of teenagers?), there will be consequences.  Or at the very least an acknowledgment of their dumb choices.
Why?  Because *my* children will not labor under the illusion that their parents are too dumb to figure out what they are doing.

To this day, I don’t know if my parents really were too oblivious to figure out what was going on, or if they just chose to ignore it.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I swear, I never learn.

This winter I managed to successfully wean myself off caffeine because it wrecks my sleep no matter when I drink it.  (I sincerely believe I have this gene mutation.) Now, I only drink decaf coffee or caffeine free soda.  Unless there is a lack-of-sleep emergency, that is.

Last night, L was a sleep trainwreck.  She woke me up maybe four or five times (which is completely unacceptable for a 2.3 year old IMO).

This morning, I was very very tired, so I made myself a big cup of half-caf coffee.  HALF CAF.  That shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

So not 30 minutes later, I noticed I was feeling extremely anxious and shakey.  For no good reason, I am a giant barrel of anxiety.  And then I remembered the damn coffee.

Stupid coffee.

Now I am going to have to wait two hours for these damn jitters to wear off.
—————————————————————————

On to other things, I could use some suggestions.  M’s favorite books are the Junie B. Jones series.  For a long time, we would read them together, one chapter per night.  Now, all the sudden, she doesn’t have the patience to wait for that and has been reading them on her own.  Yesterday, she sat down for about an hour and a half and read three of them in a row.

She has read all but maybe 6 or 7 of them now.  I need to come up with another series of books to keep her busy.  She has already read all the Ramona books, but she isn’t quite ready to read at the Little House on the Prairie level of difficulty yet.

I also hope to keep her reading age-appropriate subject matter.  For example, I think she could probably read the Babysitters’ Club books level of difficulty, but she probably wouldn’t be interested in the pre-teen subject matter.  She is also adamantly opposed to anything remotely scary, so Harry Potter is not possible yet (plus, I think it is still to complex for her to understand the storyline.)
Any suggestions?

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Once upon a time, Mr. A’s job bothered me.  I mean, I am a FEMINIST.  A LIBERAL.  And here I am, living off the profits Mr. A earned by representing corporations who kill puppies and destroy the ozone layer for fun.

Just kidding, I actually don’t know what companies he represent actually allegedly did or did not do. 

I don’t know, because when Mr. A starts talking about work, my brain gets cloudy and I hum a nice “la la la la la” song in my head while trying to look interested until he gets it out of his system.  I learned this technique when M started telling me ridiculously boring stories about dragons, imaginary friends and super heros.  It works equally well with both of them.

Anyway, what I was trying to say is that I used to be more bothered by Mr. A’s clients until I got used to living off his income and not needing to work myself.  The ethical stuff doesn’t bother me much at all anymore, now I just wonder why they aren’t paying him more.  Ahem.

Recently, though, Mr. A got assigned to a case that is clearly on the good guys’ side.  For the sake of lawyer-client-lawyer’s wife confidentiality, we will just call that client “Benevolent Corp.”  I like Benevolent Corp.  I think they are very interesting and cool, so I gave Mr. A a big thumbs up when he told me about the case.

I think Mr. A is trying to leverage this rare opportunity of wife job-approval.   His is name dropping Benevolent Corp. all over the place.

“I was really busy at work today, the Benevolent Corp. case is taking a lot of my time.” he said.

And: “I was researching blah blah blah for Benevolent Corp….” 

And “Today I was talking to XYZ person about Benevolent Corp…”

“I have to work late tonight — it is the Benevolent Corp. case!”  he said, knowing full well I wouldn’t begrudge the extra time for Benevolent Corp.

I am starting to think I am lucky he doesn’t work in public interest law all the time.  If it was his career I may actually have to be interested in his job, rather than just pretending to listen.  We would probably be a lot poorer if he did that kind of work too. 

Hopefully, he will get this bit of do-gooder-ness out of his system before it becomes a lifestyle choice.  Everything in moderation, right?

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I saw this over at Dawn’s and it dovetails with some questions I have received lately (here and IRL)about whether or not I will be closing up shop and why I blog.

1.)  Why did you start a blog?

I think I started blogging because I was very lonely.  We were living in a new city and had few friends here.  If that wasn’t enough, I was the very first person among all our friends to get pregnant and have a baby.  There was no one who could share the suck that is learning to be a parent.  It was a really hard time.

2.) Why do you continue to blog?

I love my blog.  I love the friends I have met here (both IRL and online).  I like getting feedback on things I am thinking through.  I like going back to see what the hell I was thinking in the past (even though it is often embarrassing).  I like it when people think I am funny.  I like having a place to vent.  I like meeting new people.  I like opening my email and seeing new comments.  I like knowing that someone will stumble on this blog and know they aren’t crazy or they aren’t the only one who ever felt how they feel right now.  I like helping people battle the scourge that is yucca plants.  Basically, I blog because I like it and the pros far outweigh the cons.  If it wasn’t enjoyable any more, I would stop.  Right now, blogging makes my little world better.

3.) Do you have a blogmother/blogfather?

My interest in internet communities started with the old Hipmama and Mamatron boards, but I rarely participated there.  I read blogs for maybe a year or so before I started blogging.  Dawn was one of the first blogs I read when I still lived in San Francisco and now we are real-life friends.  Most of the others I originally read are now long gone.

4.)  Any downsides to blogging?

Well, there was this incident.  That sucked.  There is also the double-edged sword of blog-drama.   It can be fun for a while, but then it just feels yucky.   I have always been someone who has the unfortunate tendency to take things a step or two too far then regret it later and blog drama certainly feeds that impulsivity.  I think I have managed to stay out of the fray for quite a while now.  Trolls used to bother me, but now they really don’t.  I moderate commenters who are just trying to be assholes, so that helps.  It also used to freak me out when I would meet people for the first time and they already know all about me because they read my blog.  Now I am used to it, so it rarely bothers me any more.

5.)  Do your ‘real world’ friends know you blog?

I used to keep it a secret, but I ended up with so many friends that I met online the two worlds began to overlap.  Right now, pretty much everyone knows about my blog except some relatives who are rarely online (though I suspect my sister will eventually find this — Hi there! Please don’t mention this to Mom and Dad!  You know they would not approve!).  Most of my friends know where they can find my blog if they want to.   I don’t link my name to the blog to protect my future job prospects (HA!) and to keep a tiny shred of anonimity for Mr. A and the girls.   

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Items I forgot to add to vacation by the numbers:

2.5 - hours of precious internet connectivity (wireless at the beach was VERY spotty) I wasted surfing the Jon & Kate plus 8 controversy websites.  Who knew that Aunt Jodi had been wronged and her sister was blogging in her defense?  Seriously, that is 2.5 hours I will never get back. 

9 - number of comments/looks that confirmed my mother’s dislike of people sharing all their personal dirt on the internet (when I was discussing the JK+8 shenannigans with my sister).  Ahem.  Glad she doesn’t know about this here blog, eh?

3 - number of people who could not refrain from commenting/staring at L in Charleston.  The first time, it was annoying.  The second time, I was visibly agitated by the gushing old lady.  By the third time, when a woman pointed rudely and called her very uninterested son’s attention to L at the aquarium and said “Look, Brendan!  Look at that baby girl!  Doesn’t she just look like a little doll!  She is just like a little china doll!  Just look at her!  Look at her!”  As if L was a fucking display like the fish.  Just as I was beginning to stomp over to tell her she was being rude when I saw my mom obliviously walking in my general direction.   My mom is NEVER someone who approves of a scene, no matter how justified.  So I stifled my rant and just moved to block the moron’s view of L.  These kind of interactions rarely happen at home, so I am wondering if my fine-tuned keep-away, what-do-you-think-you-are-doing-don’t-you-know-staring-is-rude and don’t-bother-my-kids vibe is only effective with a Midwestern audience.

16.25 - dollars earned by M on our trip.  The first day, I gave her 40 quarters.  Every time she whined, complained, threw a fit, or misbehaved, she had to give us a quarter.  I thought for sure she would come home broke, so I also gave her an additional 5 quarters every day.  It worked like magic.  The most quarters she lost in a single day was 3 and that was on the trip home when she was suffering from a bout of low blood sugar.  I also gave her 6 post-its to use when she wanted to ask “How much longer until we get there?”  Every time she asked, she had to give up a post-it.  After all the post-its were gone, she had to start paying a quarter each time she asked.  She only used 4 on the way to the beach and 2 on the way home.  For each post-it she didn’t use, she got another quarter.  Money was a good motivator for M, that is for sure.  A trip without whining was worth every single penny we spent.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Today, the girls are trying to kill me, one tiny complaint at a time. 

If it is possible to actually be whined to death, I am knocking on death’s door.  Or wait, maybe I am already dead and this is a particularly sadistic version of Hell?

I am barricaded in the office right now and I am actually contemplating putting in ear plugs so I can’t hear them whining to Mr. A. 

Bedtime can not come soon enough.

*Actually, I was going to title this Chinese Water Torture, but then I realized I don’t have the energy to argue with someone who may be offended by it.  But, yo.  For the record, they are both Chinese and they are torturing me.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Lately, I have been kicking around the idea of working part-time once L is in elementary school.  While I don’t like to work, the one thing I like to do most (traveling) happens to cost a heck of a lot of money. 

I have come to terms with the fact that Mr. A’s job is never going to allow the two of us to travel the way I want to.  I want to see too many places that are too far away for one week trips.  If I have to wait for Mr. A to accompany me, I will never get to go anywhere. 

Since I am not one to live with regrets, I have decided I need to take matters into my own hands.   It also seems a tad unfair to use such a huge chunk of Mr. A’s the family’s money to finance my own personal agenda.

My current thought is that I could work part-time and set aside my income to take the girls traveling for 4-6 weeks each summer.  Mr. A could join us for the last 10 days or so of each trip.   I also have a couple of younger cousins who may be able to accompany me to add an extra pair of hands (if I can afford to pay for their expenses).  The tentative China-Taiwan trip of 2011 will be our test trip.  By then the girls will be 5 and 8. 

For me, there is a huge difference between a “trip” and a “vacation”.   The long trips would hopefully be in addition to our normal family vacations. Last night, Mr. A asked where I would like to go on vacation in the US in the future.  Besides visiting Hawaii again, I couldn’t think of a single place I really want to go in the states.  I like to travel to experience a different culture.  While there are cultural variations in the US, it isn’t the same as traveling overseas. 

Mr. A is someone who likes to travel to see scenery.  He can’t wait to go look at the Grand Canyon with the girls.  I am already bracing myself for that trip some day far in our future.  I have no doubt I will be so bored I might actually claw my eyes out for fun. 

I have already seen the Grand Canyon when I flew over it in a plane.  Yup, there it was.  A big hole.  I don’t really have any desire to see it again.  Never mind seeing it while on the back of a very uncomfortable donkey or scary helicopter or whatever cockamamie idea Mr. A will no doubt come up with.   This is the man who thought riding a bike from the California coast the the Florida coast was FUN.  Honestly, two months on a bike, sleeping on the ground sounds like hell on Earth for me.

So anyway, until I can get to my bigger trips, I am trying to make the best of being around here.  I just spent over an hour trying to locate a suitable regional restaurant along our drive to the beach.  Who knew that West Virginia is known for their hot dogs?  I didn’t.  But when we are on vacation, I am going to try one.  I’ll let you know if it is worth the drive.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

In no particular order, things that have been happening around here lately:

-We gave L the boot from our bedroom.  Yesterday morning, she woke me up 57 too many times after I had gone to bed very, very late.  I had begun to suspect that my proximity to her (her twin bed pushed up against my side of our bed) was actually encouraging her to wake up rather than sleep through the night.  Actually, it may have been more than my personal proximity.  It may have been that our bed is much much more comfortable because it has a tempurpedic mattress pad and her bed is hecka uncomfortable.  As a result, she was constantly stealing my spot and leaving me to sleep in the twin.  As of yesterday, we moved her twin into M’s room (now known as M’s old room, L and M’s new room, or as I said repeatedly yesterday and today: the room with TWO! BIG! GIRL! BEDS! YAY!!! CLAP!! CLAP!!)  So far, so good.  Who knows, maybe one of these days I will even get to get lucky on my tempurpedic mattress instead of the fold-out couch.  A girl can dream, cant’ she?

-I have concocted a new scheme that requires us to sell our house and live in a much crappier house for several years.  On some level, I think I can not bear to live in this house now that it is all fixed up and ready to sell.  My theory is we should sell, buy a new crappy house in the neighborhood (3 blocks over) we want to live in FOREVER, then when we have enough dough in 4-5 years, do a full-gut renovation and add an addition to double the size of the imaginary house.  I have already had my hopes dashed on two different houses: one was already in contract, the other is apparently full of exposed asbestos.  It would actually make the most sense to wait until spring to move forward with this plan, but I can’t stop obsessively searching browsing the MLS listing.  I am aware this scheme is a bit wacky.   I lived through my parents building a house when I was in high school.  That was when I witnessed the biggest argument in the history of their entire relationship, which was about bathroom fixures.  And seriously, do you think that my dad gave a rat’s ass about bathroom fixtures?  Building/remodeling can make people crazy.  You would think I would know better.

-Did I mention that we are going on vacation with my parents, sister and niece in a few weeks?  Given the recent tensions over the church thing, this may be the perfect setting for a lovely knock-down drag out argument.  It might end up being like high school all over again.

-Mr. A just walked in the door from work at 11:42 pm, so I am going to go visit with him for a few minutes before bed.  They seriously do not pay him enough to work such insane hours. 

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

It was almost one year ago to the day that my mom and I had a big blow-out fight (which I apparently barely blogged) about me not wanting her to read the “Jesus book” to M.  

And it seems like only yesterday that Mr. A and I had a big debate about the kids and church.  Actually, that particular argument started about 7 months ago.   

Lucky me, it seems like it is time for us to revisit this annoying topic yet again.

Apparently, now after 50 years, my mom seems to have found religion.   She has started going to church every week.  This is no big deal to me.  If she gets something out of it, good for her. 

Unfortunately, she seems to also have decided it is important for her to expose my heathenish children to church.  She has asked if M could go to church with her TWICE in the last two weeks. 

The first time, I said Mr. A was working Sunday afternoon so we wanted to have family time in the morning.  I also mentioned that church was something that Mr. A and I would have to discuss together before I could let M go.  This was A) true and B) a very polite way of letting her know that I was not enthusiastic.  Then, she called again this saturday and asked if M could go on Sunday.  Again, I brushed her off by saying that Mr. A and I had not discussed it yet.

Before she started going to church regularly, my mom asked me if there was a church we would be comfortable letting her take M to.   I did some research and told her if she wanted to take our girls to a United Methodist church, we would be ok with that.  I don’t agree with everything they believe but they are pretty low-key.  The church my sister and I sporadically attended with my grandparents (and very occasionally my mother) was Methodist so it wasn’t like I was asking her to go to the Unitarian Devil worshippers or something.  (For the record, we would also be OK with the United Church of Christ, the Unitarian church, or many of the other LIBERAL protestant mainline churches–the kind that might have clergy as member of RCRC.). 

The church my mom has chosen is not a Methodist church.  It is an evangelical megachurch.  Who knows what the hell they believe because the “what we believe” page of their website is less than a page long.

Today, Mr. A and I discussed it. 

Mr. A doesn’t want M attending the church my mom has chosen.  He was really bothered by the Christmas play that included the crucifixion (inappropriate for a 4 year old and also not particularly relevant to the Christmas story) and also had some part that was weird and tokenish (if not outright racist) with a bunch of Asian kids dressed in kimonos clothing singing about Jesus with a Chinese face.  Mr. A also has strong beliefs about which Christian doctrine(s?) he feels are the most valid.  He doesn’t want strangers teaching our kids things he doesn’t believe.  He also doesn’t want to have to attend this church to monitor what the girls are learning.

 I don’t really want M to go to church because I am not a Christian, I am uncomfortable with the specific church my mother has chosen, and I think it is my perogative as a parent to decide what religious instruction our kids receive (or don’t receive for that matter). 

It would be easiest if my mom would take the hint and stop asking to take M to church.

Unfortunately, it looks like she is going to keep asking, which means we are going to have to say no. 

If we say now, there is going to be a big, blow-out fight between me and my mom. 

I am really not looking forward to that at all.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

If I do say so myself, I am totally kicking ass at the not shopping thing. 

We are 25 days into June and I think I have spent less than $25 on frivolities.  And most of that was cheating with cheap take-out last week when I was going crazy because Mr. A was working so much overtime.   Oh, and I also bought a really deeply discounted set of sheets for about $28 because Mr. A’s hair product has yellowed all our pillowcases and they are grossing me out.   But over all, I am doing a good job not shopping.

Possibly, I need to stop talking about my cheapness though.  Because other people are starting to egg me on in my thriftyness.  Possibly to a slightly wacky degree.

First thing this morning, my sister called.  She wanted to let me know she read in the newspaper that Chipotle was giving away free burritos between 5:00 and 8:00.  I thanked her for the info and didn’t think about it again.  I don’t mind Chipotle.  I eat it occasionally because it is closer to our house and more convenient than any other burrito place.  But it is kind of pricy for a burrito that is only so-so.

Then, Mr. A called to tell me about the free burritos.  Mr. A sounded REALLY excited about the free burritos.  He kept saying “They’re free!  It’s FREE BURRITOS! Don’t you want to eat FREE BURRITOS?!” 

Mr. A loves burritos in all shapes, sizes and styles.  (And yes, they all give him digestive issues.)   He has also been humoring me (at least I *think* he has been humoring me) by taking his lunch this month and not buying much (though he did cheat a little by getting his bike tuned up). 

I figured, what the heck?  What else were the girls and I doing at 5:00?  We could stand in line or I could cook dinner.  Honestly, standing in line seemed a little more appealing, so I said we would swing by and pick them up.

Mr. A was so excited he called me TWICE to make sure I was on board and was clear about his order.  He was especially concerned that I might forget to buy his precious chips and salsa.  I was reluctant because chips and salsa were not included in the FREE BURRITO deal.  But Mr. A was insistant.  He needed chips and salsa, damn the $1.25 they would cost.

At around 4:00, when the girls and I were at a park in the vacinity of Chipotle, it started raining.  Actually, it was a downpour of almost biblical proportions.   I thought this would deter a lot of free-burrito seekers.  When the rain let up around 4:30, I was sure we would get a great spot in line. 

Oh, how I underestimated my fellow Midwesterner’s love of A) Burritos and B)Free Things.

When we got to Chipotle at 4:45, there was a line down the side of the building and around part of the parking lot.  When we got in line, I estimate there were maybe 150 to 200 people in front of us.  Within five minutes, the line behind us was at least as long as the line in front of us.

We could see some storm clouds off in the distance, but I told the girls we were going to stick it out for the free burritos.  It was going to be a Burrito Adventure.

At around 5:00, it started to rain.   At about 5:02, it started to pour.  And lightning.  And thunder.  Did I mention we didn’t have an umbrella?   To my disappointment, no one left the line in front of us because of the rain. 

We were all there together.  Burrito warriors.  Toughing it out for the carnitas. 

At first, M meeped a little about the thunder.  But once I gave her some pretzels and cashews, she started to enjoy standing in the rain.  L had a great time splashing in the ankle-deep puddles.  We were all completely soaked from head to toe, but we soldiered on.  Fortunately, it was not cold, so the suffering was not too extreme.

My sister, who was still stuck at work, called repeatedly to find out how many people were in line.  In a revealing demonstration of her lack of thriftyness and intestinal fortitute, she wussed out and went home with no burritos.

At around 6:07, a mere 1 hour and 22 minutes after we got in line, we finally made it into Chipotle.  We got our three burritos (one for each girl and one for me) and Mr. A’s precious bag of chips.  As we were leaving the restaurant, the last of the rain sprinkled down and the sun started poking through the clouds.

We brought our booty home to a very-thrilled Mr. A, who not only got to eat a burrito for dinner, but also has one left over to take tomorrow for lunch.  (The girls don’t really like restaurant burritos, so they ate eggs and bacon for dinner.)

Standing in the pouring rain for an hour to get a free burrito may actually be one of the stranger things I have done lately.  Maybe it will one of those stories that M tells about her crazy-cheap mother in years to come.  It wouldn’t be the worst story she could tell.  All-in-all, for a satisfied husband and a funny story, it was worth the wait.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

The last week has kicked all our asses.  Mr. A has been working extra long hours, missing most dinners because he is at the office until 11 or 12 at night and working on Sunday to finish a project that is due tonight.  That means the girls and I have been mostly on our own.  It is amazing how the lack of waking-hours respite just wipes me out both mentally and physically.  I feel like a tired, mopey crank.  Poor Mr. A has been looking more than a little out of it too.

Hopefully, once this project is complete, Mr. A will have a few weeks of 9-5.  Unlikely, but I am hopeful nevertheless.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Earlier this week, I was browsing the local real estate listings.  I wasn’t looking for myself, I was looking because my parents have been kicking around the idea of buying a condo nearby.  As someone who would like to increase my access to free babysitting, I am taking the bull by the horns.

While I was looking, I bumped into a house in a perfect location that had potential, but only cost a little more than our current house.   And by potential, I mean I was imagining doubling the size of the house and adding a second floor laundry (because isn’t that The Dream?) in a few years with a full-gut renovation. Ahem.  

I was interested enough that I called a neighbor who is also a realtor.  I was bummed to find out the house I wanted was already in contract.  But the realtor convinced me to look at several other houses that were twice as expensive.  Since I have been drooling over two of the houses in question, I agreed to look.  Besides, who doesn’t like to poke around other peoples’ houses? 

Inside, the houses were not exactly what I was expecting.  One house REALLY was not what I was expecting. 

 When we walked in, M looked at a vase that was sitting on a table and asked “Is that a PINEAPPLE?”    And the answer is no, it was NOT a pineapple.  It was a vase covered in breasts.  Very lovely, well-proportioned perfect breasts.  The overall effect *was* a little pineapple-esque.

Well then.  That was a bit of a surprise. 

As we walked through the rest of the house, I noticed more boobs.  Most of them were in paintings or prints sprinkled here and there.  Most were a bit more tasteful than the titty vase. Until we got upstairs, that is.

As I walked with our 60 year-old lady realtor into the master bedroom, I glanced at a print on the wall.  When it registered what I was seeing, I actually gasped. 

It was a hard-core kama sutra illustration framed and hanging on the wall.  (If you are curious as to which one, I think it was another more well-endowed version of the one in the second row, second one over in that link. Obviously, that link is not work safe.)

Now, you know I am no prude.  I worked at planned parenthood.  I used to survey teenagers about their sexual activities, including anal sex.  I even owned penis models once.  I am sex positive, really I am!

But here I am with a five-year old who was REALLY interested in looking at a stranger’s belongings and an older woman I had met only 10 minutes before.  I swear, the realtor looked like she was about ready to faint when she got a good look at that print. 

I quickly hustled M out of the room and the rest of that house is nothing but a blur in my memory.

But the giant picture of PENIS in VAGINA, now THAT is burned into my brain. 

Seriously, what are these people thinking?!?  Who can focus on buying a house with boobs and penises accosting you from all sides? 

I now know a leeeetle too much about those particular neighbors now. 

Actually, I am off to google them to see if he is actually a porn producer or something. 

Bomp-chicka-wah-wah.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

The children, they are beating me down.

I am realizing the $350 we spent to send M to preschool 5 days a week was the most important thing we have ever done for my sanity.  She is on summer break now and I am exhausted.

Apparently, since M is not in school, she needs to get her socializing/talking out anyway.  Since I am the only person around, I am the lucky one who gets to listen to 9 hours of a 5 year-old’s stream-of-consciousness each day.  OMG, is she never silent?  Is there not ONE SINGLE THOUGHT she can keep to herself?   

Apparently, the answer is no.  There is not.

Who knew she was thinking so many things?  So many incredibly BORING and REPETITIVE things!

And L, my darling baby two year old, has decided that now is the time to fight to the death for every single whim that enters her pretty little head.  If it occurs to her that XYZ might be a good idea, she must have XYZ.  NOW.  NO, she really means it NOW! NOW! NOW!  And god forbid I should try to tell her no.  Or ask her to wait for a few minutes.  Oh, she will rain down her wrath on anyone who even dares to suggest she shouldn’t have what she wants when she wants it.  The flailing and screaming and crying is rarely worth the effort.  Do I really care that much if she eats an extra snack?  No, it turns out I don’t care enough.  I just give it to her.  I am wondering if this kind of behavior with tired parents is why my little sister got away murder.

And just when you think I might get a break at bedtime, then the real joy of summer strikes.  They don’t sleep if it isn’t dark.  Even with blackout curtains.  The big one stays up until well after 9:00 pm wiggling and thumping around in her bed.  The little one wakes up at 5:00 a.m. and then again at 6:00 a.m..  She can not be convinced to go back to sleep.

I am scheduling as many playdates and activities as I can stand.  I am making them play and swim to wear them out so they will sleep well.  I am clinging to my sanity by the skin of my teeth.  And counting down the days until school starts.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I am seriously loving GoodReads.  I have always been a fast reader and it is hard for me to find enough books to keep me busy by wandering around the library.  It is even harder now that L has decided that the library is actually supposed to be her own personal playground.  Our library has a thing where you can request books and they just show up on a shelf for pick up a few days later.

Right now, I have 75 books on my to-read list (Does that link work?).  I have been reading at least 3-4 books a week, so it will take me a while to get through that stack.  I think I have already added 5 books this week from other people’s blog posts.

I was discussing some of my recent reads with a friend when I realized I have been enjoying what appears to be a whole new genre of books: the One Year experiments.  You know, books in which the author does something out of the ordinary for a year.  Kind of like Morgan Spurlock’s 30 Days, but as a book and lasting one year.  It could be having sex every day, living biblically, eating only locally grown food, etc.   So far, I have only located maybe 12 of these books, but I am looking for more.  

I am convinced this literary category has a huge growth potential.  I tried to convince Mr. A that we should do a year-long experiment and I could write a book to make some extra cash.  When he found out the year of sex was already taken, he was uninterested in my other ideas.  I suggested a year of no cars (very difficult where we live), no electricity (we might die of frostbite in the winter), eating cookies for every meal in combination with no scales (probably we would get scurvy), no tivo (who are we kidding, we couldn’t make it),  not wearing socks (Mr. A’s toxic feet might actually dissolve his shoe’s soles with no sock buffer),  not shaving (could be bad for Mr. A’s job),  living as a freegan (Mr.A refused to eat out of dumpsters).

Sooner or later, I am going to think up something good. 

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Sometimes, I wonder if maybe I have shared a leeeetle too much of myself on this blog.  This week, I began to suspect I might because almost everyone figured out right away which one was the lie.  Heh.

1.) The blanket.  Yes, I have a blanket.  I have always had one since I was very small.  I had maybe 5-6 different ones when I was younger, but the one I have now I have had since I was in 6th grade (12 years old).  So that was about 20 years ago.  It is one of those cheapish Mexican blankets that are sold to tourists.  I did cut it in half so I could bring half of it with me to Europe.  I think I also took half to China.  I brought both halves to Cambodia and abandoned one at Mr. A’s request in exchange for a promise he would try to stop smoking.  He did…eventually.  Right now, the blanket is in a serious state of disrepair.  I can not bear to throw it away because it is part of so many of my important memories.

2.) Yes, I had white-blonde hair.  It looked like babydoll hair the first time I bleached it.  But after the second time, it looked like straw was stuck to my head.  And it did all fall out.  After maybe 4-5 bleachings.

Here is evidence of both the hair AND the blanket (on my lap).  This photo was taken at some late-night party in 1996.  Looking at the condition of my hair and the bad, bad roots, I am guessing this was about a week before it all fell out.

 The first time I thought Mr. A was attractive, he had just bleached his hair blonde.  That was probably sometime in late 1995.  Years later, despite the fact that I had killed my own hair, he let me bleach ihis again.  I think this photo is from his second year of law school (Maybe 1998?).  You can see the short spot in the middle where I had burned off his hair before he went to a salon to have it fixed by a professional.  I still think he looks very hot with blonde hair.  (Also, note that in 1998 he was still wearing a purple hypercolor t-shirt.  I mean, seriously, that shirt had to have been at least 8 years old then.  I finally threw it away in 2003.)  In the bottom pic, you can see how short my hair was after it fell out plus about 2-3 months growth.  Also, it is brown because the actual dying that put it over the top and caused all the breakage was when I tried to dye it back to my natural color.

  3.) Yes, I was a busy girl the spring and summer I was 13 (and on).  There was much heavy petting to be had.  No sex, no oral sex, but a lot of other experimenting was had that summer.  The locations were not at all out of exhibitionism, but rather necessity.  Those were the places that I managed to have alone time with my Jr. High boyfriend since we couldn’t drive.   I was by no means early at being that level of sexually active for my school.  I didn’t actually lose my virginity until I was 17.  Be horrified if you must, but let me assure you, kids you know in that age group are doing the same thing, if not more. 

4.) Yes, this is was the lie.  I have never taken naked photos, so I have no pictures of my pre-baby boobs.  That makes  me a little sad.  Upon reflection, I am pretty sure I would have consented to allow such photos to be taken if anyone had ever asked me, but no one ever did.  Besides, if there were naked pics of me on the internet without my consent, a lawyer husband would come in very handy.

5.) When I said my parents left my sister and me alone for the summer, I just meant while they were working.  We had moved to a new town and they didn’t know anyone who could be our baby sitter.  It was the summer after I was in 5th grade, so I think I was maybe 11?  That would have made my sister about 8.  We were terrible to each other that year.  There was a lot of kicking and hitting and armtwisting between us.  I think that summer (and the bad feelings it caused)was the beginning of a lot of our later relationship troubles.  I suppose it didn’t help that I held her over the stairs, but in my defense, she was kind of being a pain at the time.

I was kind of bummed that there was only other person who wanted to play.  Thanks Martha-Lynn!  I am going to guess that the pet spider is the lie.  I can’t bear the idea of having a pet spider.  I am actually a little horrified by the thought.  If that was true, I would love to know what posessed you to get a spider. Ugh.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I always liked this party game.   Four of these are true, only one isn’t.  Can you guess which one is the lie?

1.) I still have a blankey and I sleep with it every night.  I love my blanket so much, I cut it in half to take it with me when I traveled to Europe and Asia.  I left half of it in Cambodia as a bribe for Mr. A to stop smoking (He hated the blanket).  The half I have left is more holes than blanket.  I will probably keep this blanket until it completely disinegrates.

2.) I once had platinum blonde hair.  I bleached it myself with bleach from Sally’s.  I am obviously not cut out to be a colorist, because eventually huge chunks of my hair fell out.  I ended up shaving off all but about 2-3 inches on the very top.  I do not have a head that looks attractive bald.   I haven’t colored my hair since.  I did bleach Mr. A’s hair after that but it only turned a strange shade of orange before I chickened out an made him go to a salon to finish the job.

3.) In 1988-89, while I wasn’t exactly having sex, I did some heavy petting on my 7th grade Jr. High track bus.  And also on the high jump pits in the school gym.  And behind the curtains of the school stage.  And under the football bleechers during a high school football game.  And in my boyfriend’s basement.  And in my basement.  And in several of our friends’ basements.  It was a fun year.

4.)  I once posed for topless photos at the request of my boyfriend.  His asshole roommate stole the negatives and at least one of the photos is now floating around the internet.  No.  I will not tell you where. These are the only photos I have of my pre-pregnancy boobs, so I don’t actually regret taking the pictures. 

5)  When I was about 11, I held my sister over the top of a flight of stairs by her ankles and seriously considered dropping her.  My parents left us home alone together for the summer and we spend the entire time fighting and making each other miserable.  Lucky for my sister, she was pretty skinny so I didn’t drop her accidentally.

Wanna play?  You can guess which one is the lie. 

Or better yet, give me your truths and a lie in the comments or on your blog.

You can do just 2 truths if you want.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I had to do a bit of arm twisting to convince Mr. A to go along with my summer project.  For the months of June and July, I am trying a not-exactly radical experiment:  We are trying to buy nothing but the basic necessities.  Hopefully, we can save a chunk of cash to replenish some of the savings we used to make home repairs when we thought we were going to move.

To make this work, we had to come up with a realistic budget and decide what we would and would not give up.  This sounds easier than it was in reality, because we don’t usually have a real budget for anything.  Well, except for a vague grocery ($120/week) and eating-out ($50) guideline that we regularly exceed. 

So last weekend, Mr. A and I sat down and looked at what we spent over the past three months and were not excactly surprised by how much money we piddle away on dumb things.  We aren’t going to cut back drastically on our regular expenses (because we don’t want this to be the summer of ascesticism), but this month, the piddling STOPS.  If it doesn’t fit into one of the jointly-approved budget categories, we don’t buy it.

Now that I am not buying things, I am realizing how much time I spend thinking about things I might want to buy.  In the last three days, I caught myself thinking about buying the following:

1) A swimming tube for L like the one they have at the rec center $15

2) A swim noodle for L  $4

3) A sun-blocking hat for L, even though she would probably not wear it.  $6

4) A new bottle of sunscreen because I left ours at my mom’s house last weekend.  I am actually going back to her house this week, so I could probably just pick up the old one. $8

5) Math workbooks to keep M busy this summer  $15

6) Math flash cards so I can stop playing “Ask me how much it is if you add two numbers together” with M  $3

7) Mr. Clean Magic Erasers because I can’t find the old one and the crayon on the spare-room closet door is bothering me. $3

8) New pillows. Just because ours are kind of flat-looking $20

9) New pillowcases because Mr.A’s hair gel has discolored the old ones $20

10) Top sheets for the girls. I don’t know if they sell just top sheets or what i did with the old ones, but the girls only have thick blankets and it is too hot at night for that.  $20?

11) Bean bag chairs for the basement $50

12) A cheap chef’s mandolin because I read a book about knife skills and it seems to be able to do cool things  $150

13) A CD carrying case to hold all the CDs I don’t actual own for the CD player in my new car  $5

14) A new sprinker that is better for playing in the yard $15

15) A new trashcan that will prevent the damn racoons from continually spreading garbage all over the yard  $20

16) Hiring someone to come trap the racoons  $50?

17) Sunglasses for me $10

18) Sunglasses for the girls. $15

If we were not on our spending vacation, I would probably have purchased 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 13, and 17 immediately and without much thought if i were in a place like Target where it would be convenient ($51).  I may have mentioned 1, 6, 11, 14 and 18 to my mom to see if she felt interested in buying any of those ($97). I can pretty safely assume she would buy at least half of those ($49), though they may not be the specific version I had in mind.   I probably would have eventually coughed up the dough for 10, 15 and maybe 16 after a lot of wishy-washy internal debate ($90).  I probably would not actually buy 8, 9, or 12, because I couldn’t really justify the expense.

So all together, I have saved myself $141.  And I may have saved my mom* at least $49 and she isn’t even involved in the experiment!

Mr. A just came in and looked at my list. Then he tried to convince me to buy the swim tube, swim noodle, math workbook, math flashcards and racoon removal despite the spending vacation.  And then he shuffled out of the room mumbling that we need to get the math workbook so M will one day be able to get into Columbia. 

I am holding firm. 

(Please save your diatribes about me taking advantage of my mom.  She likes to buy things for us and prefers it when I give her an idea of things the girls would enjoy.  Better I tell her that they love sunglasses but lost/broke them already this year, rather than have her waste her money on random crap that will languish on the shelf unused until I send it to goodwill.)