So, a conversation occurred to me while I was folding clothes at an ungodly hour of the morning. A friend of mine and I were talking about money and budgets and what-not. And, if you know me, as of late, then you know that Dan and I are on this strict budget. We have strict parameters on what is spent and where it is spent, etc. And we dole out our money for the month at the beginning of the month and then every penny is budgeted. We're doing this in an effort to pay down debt more quickly, so that one of us can stay at home with our rug-rats, instead of both of us trying to spin the hamster wheel!
So, the conversation went something like this:
Me :"Yeah, I got some extra money, it wasn't in the budget, so I think I might spend it on underwear for myself."
Friend: "Oh yeah, underwear, huh? Are you going to get something good like Victoria's Secret or something?"
Me: "No. I don't have that much extra money, and I was thinking of getting more than a couple of pairs."
Friend: "Well, how many pairs do you need?"
Me: "Well, if it were up to my husband, I think he'd have me replace every single pair of underwear I own. He thinks they are all old and tired looking, and definitely not sexy."
Friend: "When was the last time you bought new underwear?"
Me: "Probably like three years ago or more."
Friend: "What?!?!? You haven't bought underwear in three or more years? Yuck! That's gross. You should replace underwear after like a year."
Me: "Really. You think it's gross to keep underwear for more than a year? I didn't know there was an expiration date on underwear. Is there?"
Friend: "Well, I mean, there's nothing that says you need to replace them after a year, but I always do."
Me: "Hmm. I guess I'm gross 'cuz I said I bought new underwear three years ago, but I probably have underwear in my drawer that are 10 years, or older. I didn't realize I was supposed to get rid of them. But, I won't be, b/c I said I had a few extra dollars, not enough to replace my whole underwear assortment."
Friend: "Well, I'd at least get started getting rid of some of your older pairs. That really is bad, Carrie."
Thought process: Is it really wrong to keep underwear for more than a year or two? I have to wonder. Is there some unwritten rule here? Am I going to have to budget into next month's funds "Panty Renewal"? Who wrote this rule, Victoria herself? She's really good at keeping these secrets, you know. Really good, 'cuz I'm 32 and I never heard of this 'til now. Should I be ashamed of my Muppets underwear? What about the flowered cotton ones? Those are my favorites, but they are, apparently 75 years old in underwear years. And, let's not even go down the road to bras-ville. I got some in there that are well beyond there expiration date. This could be a really expensive realization for me!
No wonder Dan thinks my underwear are tired and definitely, un-sexy! They are like reaching nursing home status! I should be taking them down to the Medicare office and seeing what sort of plan they need to be on. Social Security, my underwear should be drawing full benefits!
But, maybe she's right. Someone please enlighten me. Does anyone else have an opinion on underwear and it's life cycle? I just thought you wore 'em til their very fibers were worn out. I have to say, I know this thinking is shared by my step-father, because I have folded some seriously thin skivvies coming out of his laundry. But, no skid marks, so, still useful, still serving their purpose, butt-coverage still intact.
Though, you have to wonder, why is it that some folks have this mentality that things should be replaced after so many uses or years, and others do not follow the same thought process? I'd be willing to guess that if you are reading my Blog, then you are either a family member, or a close friend, and, therefore, you probably feel the same way I do about this issue, "If it still does the job, then no need for termination." But, what do you think? Could we be wrong? Should I be teaching my sons that after a year, maybe two, we have to say goodbye to the Power Rangers and hello to the Incredible Hulk?
This conversation struck me, of course, because I was folding underwear, Griffin's Bob the Builder. And I was thinking, "These might be getting a bit snug. Griffin has had these for a while. I should put them up. That way Grant can start wearing them when he starts potty training. Oh, but, then they would be hand-me-down underwear! Now, that is really bad, isn't it?! Handing down underwear from one child to the next! I wonder what my friend would say about that?" Well, sorry friend, my boy is going to wear used underwear, and he's going to be thrilled!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
You Ever Wonder???.....
It seems as though we are born without some things. Like the personal space box. You know what I'm talking about. The box that inhabits your self and is oh, about arms length away from you on all sides. Yeah, that personal space box, is quite obviously not shared by children. When do you think this realization happens? It's not like we come with handbooks, "and on your 8th year, week 42 you will realize what people mean when they say, 'personal space'"
My kids are terribly great at the abuse of personal space. I mean, for one, Grant wants you to tote his big self around everywhere on your hip, which, by definition is an infraction on your personal space. Carrying someone. Think to yourself now, when was the last time you asked someone to carry you? Doesn't the notion just make you giggle??!! I know what Dan would say if I asked him to carry me, "What?! Are you crazy?! I haven't won any strong man contests lately, do you really think I'm capable of lifting you??" To which I would have to whop him up-side the head for, but, he would be right! I mean, not to say that I am huge by any means, but, picking up another person? What would make someone want to do that or have that done to them? My friend Laura has told me that she loves to be carried. I think this is a ludicrous notion. It would only then give a man a real sense of what I'm hauling around every day. Yeah, no thanks! Definitely do not want anyone to know just how much this lady is packing!!
Anyway, back onto the topic of personal space. I first noticed how terrible my kids were with personal space when we had Wyatt. Griffin would want to be right up under me every time I sat in the recliner with the baby. "Momma, oh, he's so cute, our baby is so sweet." And I'm thinking, "Yes he is. Now, get your big ole head out of my face and the baby's face. You're going to make him cross-eyed."
Then, Grant will get up in the mix, because God forbid there be something going on with the baby and he not be there to put his two-cents in (not that you could understand him, but he will tell you what's going on!) Usually, though, all he has to say to Wyatt is ,"Wwwwhhhhhhhhyyyyyy". It's the nickname he gave Wyatt shortly after he figured out what this kid's name was. And when he says it, it's always 2 inches away from Wyatt's face, and really long and drawn out, "Wwwwwhhhhhhhhyyyyy" reminds me of the old Bud-Light commercials, "Whazzzz-Upppppp???" Makes me laugh every time. But, still, makes me cringe for Wyatt who constantly has to put up with this. Poor guy! They've no respect for your personal space, either, do they?
But, I think the thing that bothers me the most about having no personal space visible to the kids is that this means at any time my space is theirs for the taking. Ummm bathroom, kids, bathroom. It's not somewhere you probably want to be right now. Oh, but screaming on the other side of the door until I open it, is just more than a person can take! You're in there trying to concentrate, but have a small being yelling for you on the other side and freaking out that maybe, just maybe, you might need a moment without them. How unbearable this must be to be outside of my personal space and be left with what.... your own personal space only being inhabited by you!! Awh!! The audactity of that woman! How dare she leave YOUR personal space.
So, maybe that's it, huh?! It's not that they want to invade your personal area, they are just not secure enough to have you evade theirs? They need that closeness, even if it means enduring fumes no man, woman, or child should have to endure, just to be next to you. Is this just another example of unconditional love? Is this how they prove to us, that no matter what, they'll love us forever? Funny how the things that annoy you might also warm you to the bone when you think of them from a new perspective.
So, next time you are in this situation, don't think of this as an invasion of your personal space but, instead, as their need to have you inhabiting theirs.
My kids are terribly great at the abuse of personal space. I mean, for one, Grant wants you to tote his big self around everywhere on your hip, which, by definition is an infraction on your personal space. Carrying someone. Think to yourself now, when was the last time you asked someone to carry you? Doesn't the notion just make you giggle??!! I know what Dan would say if I asked him to carry me, "What?! Are you crazy?! I haven't won any strong man contests lately, do you really think I'm capable of lifting you??" To which I would have to whop him up-side the head for, but, he would be right! I mean, not to say that I am huge by any means, but, picking up another person? What would make someone want to do that or have that done to them? My friend Laura has told me that she loves to be carried. I think this is a ludicrous notion. It would only then give a man a real sense of what I'm hauling around every day. Yeah, no thanks! Definitely do not want anyone to know just how much this lady is packing!!
Anyway, back onto the topic of personal space. I first noticed how terrible my kids were with personal space when we had Wyatt. Griffin would want to be right up under me every time I sat in the recliner with the baby. "Momma, oh, he's so cute, our baby is so sweet." And I'm thinking, "Yes he is. Now, get your big ole head out of my face and the baby's face. You're going to make him cross-eyed."
Then, Grant will get up in the mix, because God forbid there be something going on with the baby and he not be there to put his two-cents in (not that you could understand him, but he will tell you what's going on!) Usually, though, all he has to say to Wyatt is ,"Wwwwhhhhhhhhyyyyyy". It's the nickname he gave Wyatt shortly after he figured out what this kid's name was. And when he says it, it's always 2 inches away from Wyatt's face, and really long and drawn out, "Wwwwwhhhhhhhhyyyyy" reminds me of the old Bud-Light commercials, "Whazzzz-Upppppp???" Makes me laugh every time. But, still, makes me cringe for Wyatt who constantly has to put up with this. Poor guy! They've no respect for your personal space, either, do they?
But, I think the thing that bothers me the most about having no personal space visible to the kids is that this means at any time my space is theirs for the taking. Ummm bathroom, kids, bathroom. It's not somewhere you probably want to be right now. Oh, but screaming on the other side of the door until I open it, is just more than a person can take! You're in there trying to concentrate, but have a small being yelling for you on the other side and freaking out that maybe, just maybe, you might need a moment without them. How unbearable this must be to be outside of my personal space and be left with what.... your own personal space only being inhabited by you!! Awh!! The audactity of that woman! How dare she leave YOUR personal space.
So, maybe that's it, huh?! It's not that they want to invade your personal area, they are just not secure enough to have you evade theirs? They need that closeness, even if it means enduring fumes no man, woman, or child should have to endure, just to be next to you. Is this just another example of unconditional love? Is this how they prove to us, that no matter what, they'll love us forever? Funny how the things that annoy you might also warm you to the bone when you think of them from a new perspective.
So, next time you are in this situation, don't think of this as an invasion of your personal space but, instead, as their need to have you inhabiting theirs.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Picture Pages
In my last post, I said I would have pictures coming. So, along with the pictures from the weekend, I've included some recent pictures of the kids. And, I know, they are the cutest kids on the planet! It's genetic! Ha!
It was really funny, I tell you! See, Dianne's laughing!
Grandma had a fall, for all of you who were wondering
what happened to her face. We still made her take photos
with us! We're so cruel!
She would really be ticked if she knew I was posting
her photo on the web! Good thing computers aren't her thing!
For all of you who don't know, Greg is like 17 feet tall.
So, he had to sit on the floor or we would have only had
a picture of his waist!
When ham meets pork chop!
Griffin just looks too pretty to be a boy in this picture!
Grant found a place to rest his big fat melon! It's hard
Too tired to eat?! It can't be true!
Yes, I am in the tub in my clothes! Is there something
Getting cuter by the second!
It was really funny, I tell you! See, Dianne's laughing!
Grandma had a fall, for all of you who were wondering
what happened to her face. We still made her take photos
with us! We're so cruel!
She would really be ticked if she knew I was posting
her photo on the web! Good thing computers aren't her thing!
For all of you who don't know, Greg is like 17 feet tall.
So, he had to sit on the floor or we would have only had
a picture of his waist!
When ham meets pork chop!
Griffin just looks too pretty to be a boy in this picture!
Grant found a place to rest his big fat melon! It's hard
holding up all that head, you know?!
The look on Wyatt's face is just hilarious in this picture!
Reminds me of Bill Murray's character in CaddyShack!
Reminds me of Bill Murray's character in CaddyShack!
Gophers, gonna get me some Gophers!!
Too tired to eat?! It can't be true!
Yes, I am in the tub in my clothes! Is there something
wrong with that?
Getting cuter by the second!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Momma, Momma I'm Comin' Home
Well, we were in Cherokee Village Arkansas the past few days. Visiting Mom, Jerry, and Grandma. And, BONUS, Ben, Dianne PLUS Greg, Sara, and Wilson!! It was a packed house!
We had to leave last night since work beckoned for both Dan and I, today.
Ugh! Work. When is my Dad going to win the lottery like he keeps saying he's going to??
Lord, do you think his prayers are too selfish?? He could take care of so many with that money! Let Daddy win the Lottery, Amen.
(ha! of course I jest.)
It was really great seeing everyone. (pictures to come)
My family is a great one. We may be dysfunctional, but dysfunction is fun! What fun would it be if we all sat around and no one ever got upset with anyone else or said something off-color??? Yeah, no problems there. You can never predict what might come out of someone's mouth at our functions!! Cover your ears son!!
Speaking of that. I was bad Mom for the 114millionth time this weekend! I have been trying to be a better filter of what I allow Griffin to watch. Because, you know, if he starts throwing punches and speaking chinese it's probably because I've been letting him watch too many KungFu movies. So, anyway, yesterday I was tired, really tired (clarification: in order to fit in with our crowd you've got to be willing to stay up late, get up early, oh, and have a few drinks along the way. This is not mandatory, but oh so fun, and look, it'd been a while since we'd all been together. So, I was not going to miss this! Bring on the booze!) We were getting ready to leave CV and Griffin wanted to know what movies he had to choose from for the ride. Well, I started pulling out movies and asking if he wanted to watch this or this.... Then, I pulled out Walking Tall, and said, "What about this one?"
He was like, "Uh, Mom, that's an adult movie."
Oh yeah. I'm remebering now. The last time he wanted to watch this I told him that really this was not one of his movies this was an adult movie and he really shouldn't watch it. Yeah. Humm, funny how my mind seems to be made out of swiss cheese these days.
I say, "Oh, you're right."
He says, "But, I'll watch it."
I think, I can take a stand here, or I can cave.
Commence Caving!!!
"Okay. But, you are not allowed to repeat any of the language you hear."
"No problem, Mom. I won't. I won't even say someofmabish, I promise."
"WHAT?!?!?"
"Mom. I'm sorry. I wasn't even saying someofmabish. I was just saying it. I mean just saying I won't say it."
"Just stop Griffin! Stop saying it! Stop saying you won't say it and then saying it. Just don't say it!"
And then, I put the movie in.
Bad Mommie! Bad, bad Mommie! Hope people won't say my son is a someofamabish. But, then, they'd be right. He's so screwed!!
We had to leave last night since work beckoned for both Dan and I, today.
Ugh! Work. When is my Dad going to win the lottery like he keeps saying he's going to??
Lord, do you think his prayers are too selfish?? He could take care of so many with that money! Let Daddy win the Lottery, Amen.
(ha! of course I jest.)
It was really great seeing everyone. (pictures to come)
My family is a great one. We may be dysfunctional, but dysfunction is fun! What fun would it be if we all sat around and no one ever got upset with anyone else or said something off-color??? Yeah, no problems there. You can never predict what might come out of someone's mouth at our functions!! Cover your ears son!!
Speaking of that. I was bad Mom for the 114millionth time this weekend! I have been trying to be a better filter of what I allow Griffin to watch. Because, you know, if he starts throwing punches and speaking chinese it's probably because I've been letting him watch too many KungFu movies. So, anyway, yesterday I was tired, really tired (clarification: in order to fit in with our crowd you've got to be willing to stay up late, get up early, oh, and have a few drinks along the way. This is not mandatory, but oh so fun, and look, it'd been a while since we'd all been together. So, I was not going to miss this! Bring on the booze!) We were getting ready to leave CV and Griffin wanted to know what movies he had to choose from for the ride. Well, I started pulling out movies and asking if he wanted to watch this or this.... Then, I pulled out Walking Tall, and said, "What about this one?"
He was like, "Uh, Mom, that's an adult movie."
Oh yeah. I'm remebering now. The last time he wanted to watch this I told him that really this was not one of his movies this was an adult movie and he really shouldn't watch it. Yeah. Humm, funny how my mind seems to be made out of swiss cheese these days.
I say, "Oh, you're right."
He says, "But, I'll watch it."
I think, I can take a stand here, or I can cave.
Commence Caving!!!
"Okay. But, you are not allowed to repeat any of the language you hear."
"No problem, Mom. I won't. I won't even say someofmabish, I promise."
"WHAT?!?!?"
"Mom. I'm sorry. I wasn't even saying someofmabish. I was just saying it. I mean just saying I won't say it."
"Just stop Griffin! Stop saying it! Stop saying you won't say it and then saying it. Just don't say it!"
And then, I put the movie in.
Bad Mommie! Bad, bad Mommie! Hope people won't say my son is a someofamabish. But, then, they'd be right. He's so screwed!!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Let's Hope I Know What I'm Doing!!
Today, I decided having a Blog of our own might be a good way of keeping in touch with our family and friends! So, let's see how this goes.....
Today is Saturday, so I should be cleaning and cooking and wondering "why is it so hard to get my kids to pick up after themselves? Yeah, I'm talking to you Dan!" Ha! But, instead, I am creating a blog and hoping that I will have time to keep it going.
Everyone is always asking me what Griffin has done lately that would make them laugh. Well, pretty much every waking moment is an opportunity for comedy when it comes to that kid!
But, lately, he has proclaimed that I cannot cook.
It went something like this.....
Me: "Griffin, you need to at least TRY some of the dinner I made, you can't say you don't like it until AFTER you have actually touched it to your tongue!"
Griffin: "But, Mom. I don't like this. I don't like beans!"
Me: "Well, you used to like beans, and if you just take a bite with all of it mixed up you won't even taste the beans!"
Griffin: "Mom. You're nasty." (oh, I am? I'm nasty?) "I mean, you cook nasty. Why do you always cook nasty stuff?"
You're right, i'm thinking. Coming home early from work to cook you a home-cooked meal, so that you won't grow a third arm from all the preservatives you usually are subjected to, that was a bad idea. Why don't I just feed you another helping of pop-tarts covered with marshmallows, chocolate syrup, and topped with Cheetos. That'd make you happy, huh?! Yeah, you'd be happy with that until you reach adulthood and are attending group therapy for your problem with relationships, and it will come up that your mother never fed you a home-cooked meal and she worked! How dare she work! Selfish-Wench!! No wonder I am screwed up! It's all my mother's fault.
Me: "Well, I'm not giving you any fuel for your therapy, sir. No way!"
Griffin: "What Mom?"
Me: "Nothing, eat two bites. Then you can have candy. I know that'll make you happy." (Just Kidding.)
Oh, and did anyone know this?? There's a race strip in our house! Yes! It's so obvious! Don't know why we haven't noticed it! Yes, it goes through the house, over any folded laundry or shoes nicely sitting next to the door. Yes, anything that you would like to keep from having tire tracks on, or anything that could be seen as a possible speedbump (but, truly an inevitable pitfall, to band-aid-ville!) is part of the race track!
When I see what is happening and proclaim to Griffin to stop racing through the house, someone is GOING to get hurt. It is only seconds after he utters, "No I won't" that he is crying on the floor holding a knee and saying, "Well you shouldn't have put that shoe there. I tripped on it and got a boo-boo. You know a boo-boo, like the kind you have?" Whaaaaa-Whaaaa
Me: "Boo-Boo? I don't have a boo-boo?"
Griffin: "Yes you do. Right there. (pointing to my chest) The ones you used to feed Wyatt with."
Me: "Oh, ha ha! No, honey, those are my boobies. And I promise you, as many times as you fall, you will never come up with these on your knees. And if you do, we will have to call Ripley's because no one is going to believe that!!"
****Note to Self, add future therapy sessions to next month's budget!!!
Today is Saturday, so I should be cleaning and cooking and wondering "why is it so hard to get my kids to pick up after themselves? Yeah, I'm talking to you Dan!" Ha! But, instead, I am creating a blog and hoping that I will have time to keep it going.
Everyone is always asking me what Griffin has done lately that would make them laugh. Well, pretty much every waking moment is an opportunity for comedy when it comes to that kid!
But, lately, he has proclaimed that I cannot cook.
It went something like this.....
Me: "Griffin, you need to at least TRY some of the dinner I made, you can't say you don't like it until AFTER you have actually touched it to your tongue!"
Griffin: "But, Mom. I don't like this. I don't like beans!"
Me: "Well, you used to like beans, and if you just take a bite with all of it mixed up you won't even taste the beans!"
Griffin: "Mom. You're nasty." (oh, I am? I'm nasty?) "I mean, you cook nasty. Why do you always cook nasty stuff?"
You're right, i'm thinking. Coming home early from work to cook you a home-cooked meal, so that you won't grow a third arm from all the preservatives you usually are subjected to, that was a bad idea. Why don't I just feed you another helping of pop-tarts covered with marshmallows, chocolate syrup, and topped with Cheetos. That'd make you happy, huh?! Yeah, you'd be happy with that until you reach adulthood and are attending group therapy for your problem with relationships, and it will come up that your mother never fed you a home-cooked meal and she worked! How dare she work! Selfish-Wench!! No wonder I am screwed up! It's all my mother's fault.
Me: "Well, I'm not giving you any fuel for your therapy, sir. No way!"
Griffin: "What Mom?"
Me: "Nothing, eat two bites. Then you can have candy. I know that'll make you happy." (Just Kidding.)
Oh, and did anyone know this?? There's a race strip in our house! Yes! It's so obvious! Don't know why we haven't noticed it! Yes, it goes through the house, over any folded laundry or shoes nicely sitting next to the door. Yes, anything that you would like to keep from having tire tracks on, or anything that could be seen as a possible speedbump (but, truly an inevitable pitfall, to band-aid-ville!) is part of the race track!
When I see what is happening and proclaim to Griffin to stop racing through the house, someone is GOING to get hurt. It is only seconds after he utters, "No I won't" that he is crying on the floor holding a knee and saying, "Well you shouldn't have put that shoe there. I tripped on it and got a boo-boo. You know a boo-boo, like the kind you have?" Whaaaaa-Whaaaa
Me: "Boo-Boo? I don't have a boo-boo?"
Griffin: "Yes you do. Right there. (pointing to my chest) The ones you used to feed Wyatt with."
Me: "Oh, ha ha! No, honey, those are my boobies. And I promise you, as many times as you fall, you will never come up with these on your knees. And if you do, we will have to call Ripley's because no one is going to believe that!!"
****Note to Self, add future therapy sessions to next month's budget!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
