I am about to confess something that will make you think less of me. My son, 11 months old, is already a kleptomaniac.
I discovered this a couple of days ago when we went to Kroger. Adam was at an engineering meeting and the kids and I went to get some broccoli and a few bake mixes. Claire's birthday was yesterday and I wanted to bake her the muffins and cookies of her choosing and broccoli to balance it all out.
It was a fairly short trip to the grocery store. It was also fairly low maintenance. No trips to the bathroom, no time-outs in the grocery cart, not much begging for unnecessary items.
I put all my groceries on the register, keeping one eye on Claire because she kept grabbing candy bars and offering them to other people in line. She didn't quite understand why the lady behind us didn't want to eat the Hershey bar she was trying to give her.
So one eye on Claire, one eye on the register, pen in hand writing a check. We checked out, I sighed with relief and we started walking out. Then I saw it.
Paul was hugging a package of cookie mix. I hadn't paid for it.
And this is where my crisis of conscience comes in. I had a debate in my head. Do I go back to the register, apologize and pay for the $2 mix? Do I use this as a lesson on honesty? Or do I pretend I didn't notice and keep on walking out the door with unpaid merchandise?
Claire is now three, old enough to be learning lessons like this. She could have benefitted from her mother's act of honesty. Instead, her mother was dishonest and kept on walking. I could list a thousand excuses for why I didn't go back and pay for the cookies, but the real reason is that I didn't want to.
And as a kick in the seat of my pants, I swear to you I have never seen a rent-a-cop at Kroger, but there was one right outside the door when we left. At first I was scared we were going to be arrested, but then I realized I still could go back and pay for the cookies. I didn't.
Right and wrong is often not black and white. My life has a lot of gray in it. I believe it's important to model good choices for my children, especially when it would have been so easy to go back and pay. Hopefully my kids will pick up on all my good deeds and not remember this one. Or they could be headed toward a life of crime, which could have been avoided for $2 plus tax.
Here's a place where Sarah writes what's on her heart and mind for whomever will read it. Sometimes it's hilarious, sometimes it's little pieces of life that I'm grateful for. Enjoy!
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Pace Car
Though I was born in the South and am white, I am not a NASCAR fan. Adam and I have been to a couple of races at the Texas Motor Speedway, but that was only because we got free tickets in the mail from Marlboro. (We posed as smokers one night at a concert. Didn't have to actually smoke, just say that we did, and boom, we get all sorts of gifts in the mail from them.)
Before the race starts, they have a few warm-up laps, where the drivers drive around the speedway behind a pace car. They're not allowed to pass up the pace car. There are reasons for that.
As I've gotten older, my driving has slowed down. Don't get me wrong; I have a history of wild driving, and the driving record to prove it. Adam thinks I drive like an old lady now. Somedays, though, the temperature is just right, the windows are down, and I'm rocking out and hitting the gas. I'll be zooming along and then have to slam on my breaks because some jerk in front of me is actually going the speed limit. After I hit the brakes and take a deep breath, I usually see a police officer on the side of the road. Then I thank God for putting the pace car in front of me and saving me from a ticket or a wreck.
I think God often puts pace cars in front of me to slow me down. Sometimes my pace car is one of my elderly friends. I'll go over to Jo's house, and time will stand still. Sometimes it's one of my children, who bring a toy to me and remind me that there are more important activities than housework. Sometimes it's a stranger who offers a small act of kindness when I'm struggling.
Even as a stay-at-home mom, my life runs a break-neck speeds. I am grateful when I am forced to slow down and appreciate life. Pace cars are blessings.
Before the race starts, they have a few warm-up laps, where the drivers drive around the speedway behind a pace car. They're not allowed to pass up the pace car. There are reasons for that.
As I've gotten older, my driving has slowed down. Don't get me wrong; I have a history of wild driving, and the driving record to prove it. Adam thinks I drive like an old lady now. Somedays, though, the temperature is just right, the windows are down, and I'm rocking out and hitting the gas. I'll be zooming along and then have to slam on my breaks because some jerk in front of me is actually going the speed limit. After I hit the brakes and take a deep breath, I usually see a police officer on the side of the road. Then I thank God for putting the pace car in front of me and saving me from a ticket or a wreck.
I think God often puts pace cars in front of me to slow me down. Sometimes my pace car is one of my elderly friends. I'll go over to Jo's house, and time will stand still. Sometimes it's one of my children, who bring a toy to me and remind me that there are more important activities than housework. Sometimes it's a stranger who offers a small act of kindness when I'm struggling.
Even as a stay-at-home mom, my life runs a break-neck speeds. I am grateful when I am forced to slow down and appreciate life. Pace cars are blessings.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
A Primer on Grocery Shopping
When I was a kid, my grandma would send us little envelopes in the mail. Sometimes she wouldn't send them, she'd just hand them to my mom when we visited. Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point, would have called her a coupon maven. She was always on the lookout for good coupons and would remember what products our family used so she could send us the coordinating coupons. Sometimes the coupons came in your birthday card, which always made us roll our eyes. What everyone wants for their birthday is coupons!
Every Sunday afternoon growing up, my parents had a debate. We'd just finished service at the Baptist church and they couldn't decide if they wanted a nap first or eat lunch first. We rotated, but one thing we didn't rotate on was the activities afterward. Everyone sat on the couch and went through the Sunday paper. My dad would read the news, and my mom, sister, and I would go through the salespapers and cut coupons. I remember getting tired of the activity as I got older and I started to rebel. I stopped cutting the edges off the coupons, leaving a white border. I was hard core.
My mom taught me math by helping me to calculating discounts off the clothes we bought. We bought everything on sale, and when we took our outfits up to the register, we knew what to expect from the 50% off sale.
When I was in college, I often went grocery shopping with my grandma. She taught me new tips on shopping, like how to pick a cashier. She usually chose men who looked kind of dumb. They didn't check her expiration dates on her coupons and she could save more money. She taught me how to slip an expired coupon in with all your regular coupons. She taught me the rules of coupon doubling and tripling. I remember her beaming from ear to ear when I would check out and only owe $20.
Some of Grandma's tips don't work any more. I tend to chose the smarter-looking cashiers now because they will override the register if the coupon doesn't ring up. I'm always careful to buy exactly what the coupons tells me to, but sometimes the register still beeps. If the cashier isn't very smart, they get confused and call the manager. You can't use expired coupons any more, either. The computers eliminated that.
As a stay-at-home mom, a large part of my time is spent getting ready for the grocery store. I have a team of shoppers that help me, too. My grandfather and my blind friend, Jo, both save their Sunday coupons for me. My grandfather goes through and picks the right set of coupons for me. Jo, who I suspect subscribes to the paper solely for the obituaries, throws anything that looks couponish into a bag for me. I appreciate both of them because I can often buy multiple items and have a coupon for each one.
My mother-in-law, Sarita, is in on the game, too. She usually calls me on Sunday afternoon to alert me to good coupons in the paper that week. When I was working I was always a week or two behind on my clipping, and sometimes missed good ones. Sarita clips all the coupons she needs and then saves the rest in a bag for me. I have a special coupon drawer for her at our house. Every time we see each other, we trade sacks of coupons.
This last year, with the loss of my paycheck, it has become even more important for me to save money on the grocery bill. I've started studying the grocery store ads, and now "grocery hop" to different stores for different products. On a typical shopping day, we might go to five different stores for groceries. This is no small task for a single adult, but when you add two small children, it nearly drives me to the insane asylum. I can tell you where the bathroom is in any grocery store on my side of Fort Worth. I don't know if she really needs it or if she gets entertained frustrating her mom, but Claire can use the potty four times in one grocery store.
I do not bribe my children to behave in the store, but I do feed them. If I buy deli meat, I always make sure to get a sample for Claire and Paul. At Tom Thumb, they allow each child to have an apple, banana, orange, or balloon for free. If they're eating, they are happy.
Here's a few time-tested tips from me, a third generation grocery store maven:
1. Albertson's, Kroger, and Tom Thumb triple the face value of a coupon up to 39 cents. They double it up to 50 cents. Beyond that it is face value only.
2. At Walmart, coupons are worth their face value only. I do find Walmart grocery stores to have cheaper prices if you are not using a coupon, but I've done the math. If you are using coupons, traditional grocery stores are better.
3. Tom Thumb is more expensive on certain items, but if I'm depressed and need good customer service, I go there.
4. Albertson's is cheapest on meat. They have ridiculous sales where you can buy one package of steaks and get two free. You would think it would be bad meat, but it's delicious! Watch their salepaper for the coupons.
5. If you forgot your store-specific coupons at your house, go to customer service. They keep them behind the counter.
6. Sales start every Wednesday, but sometimes they have weekend-only deals.
7. On Hulen Street in Fort Worth, at Tom Thumb, the bathroom is in the pharmacy. At Albertson's, it's in produce. At Kroger, it's in the meat department.
It's a lot of work, but it's worth it. Last week I spent $89 for two weeks worth of groceries. I love looking at my receipt at the end. I usually save about 25 percent with coupons and sales. Sometimes I get into big money and save up to 30 percent or more.
My grandma doesn't cut coupons as much anymore. She finds it to be too much work for just her and my grandpa. Every time I see her, she is proud to hear my war stories from the grocery store. It's a battle against manufacturer's profit, and they don't make a lot from me. I'm a war veteran.
Every Sunday afternoon growing up, my parents had a debate. We'd just finished service at the Baptist church and they couldn't decide if they wanted a nap first or eat lunch first. We rotated, but one thing we didn't rotate on was the activities afterward. Everyone sat on the couch and went through the Sunday paper. My dad would read the news, and my mom, sister, and I would go through the salespapers and cut coupons. I remember getting tired of the activity as I got older and I started to rebel. I stopped cutting the edges off the coupons, leaving a white border. I was hard core.
My mom taught me math by helping me to calculating discounts off the clothes we bought. We bought everything on sale, and when we took our outfits up to the register, we knew what to expect from the 50% off sale.
When I was in college, I often went grocery shopping with my grandma. She taught me new tips on shopping, like how to pick a cashier. She usually chose men who looked kind of dumb. They didn't check her expiration dates on her coupons and she could save more money. She taught me how to slip an expired coupon in with all your regular coupons. She taught me the rules of coupon doubling and tripling. I remember her beaming from ear to ear when I would check out and only owe $20.
Some of Grandma's tips don't work any more. I tend to chose the smarter-looking cashiers now because they will override the register if the coupon doesn't ring up. I'm always careful to buy exactly what the coupons tells me to, but sometimes the register still beeps. If the cashier isn't very smart, they get confused and call the manager. You can't use expired coupons any more, either. The computers eliminated that.
As a stay-at-home mom, a large part of my time is spent getting ready for the grocery store. I have a team of shoppers that help me, too. My grandfather and my blind friend, Jo, both save their Sunday coupons for me. My grandfather goes through and picks the right set of coupons for me. Jo, who I suspect subscribes to the paper solely for the obituaries, throws anything that looks couponish into a bag for me. I appreciate both of them because I can often buy multiple items and have a coupon for each one.
My mother-in-law, Sarita, is in on the game, too. She usually calls me on Sunday afternoon to alert me to good coupons in the paper that week. When I was working I was always a week or two behind on my clipping, and sometimes missed good ones. Sarita clips all the coupons she needs and then saves the rest in a bag for me. I have a special coupon drawer for her at our house. Every time we see each other, we trade sacks of coupons.
This last year, with the loss of my paycheck, it has become even more important for me to save money on the grocery bill. I've started studying the grocery store ads, and now "grocery hop" to different stores for different products. On a typical shopping day, we might go to five different stores for groceries. This is no small task for a single adult, but when you add two small children, it nearly drives me to the insane asylum. I can tell you where the bathroom is in any grocery store on my side of Fort Worth. I don't know if she really needs it or if she gets entertained frustrating her mom, but Claire can use the potty four times in one grocery store.
I do not bribe my children to behave in the store, but I do feed them. If I buy deli meat, I always make sure to get a sample for Claire and Paul. At Tom Thumb, they allow each child to have an apple, banana, orange, or balloon for free. If they're eating, they are happy.
Here's a few time-tested tips from me, a third generation grocery store maven:
1. Albertson's, Kroger, and Tom Thumb triple the face value of a coupon up to 39 cents. They double it up to 50 cents. Beyond that it is face value only.
2. At Walmart, coupons are worth their face value only. I do find Walmart grocery stores to have cheaper prices if you are not using a coupon, but I've done the math. If you are using coupons, traditional grocery stores are better.
3. Tom Thumb is more expensive on certain items, but if I'm depressed and need good customer service, I go there.
4. Albertson's is cheapest on meat. They have ridiculous sales where you can buy one package of steaks and get two free. You would think it would be bad meat, but it's delicious! Watch their salepaper for the coupons.
5. If you forgot your store-specific coupons at your house, go to customer service. They keep them behind the counter.
6. Sales start every Wednesday, but sometimes they have weekend-only deals.
7. On Hulen Street in Fort Worth, at Tom Thumb, the bathroom is in the pharmacy. At Albertson's, it's in produce. At Kroger, it's in the meat department.
It's a lot of work, but it's worth it. Last week I spent $89 for two weeks worth of groceries. I love looking at my receipt at the end. I usually save about 25 percent with coupons and sales. Sometimes I get into big money and save up to 30 percent or more.
My grandma doesn't cut coupons as much anymore. She finds it to be too much work for just her and my grandpa. Every time I see her, she is proud to hear my war stories from the grocery store. It's a battle against manufacturer's profit, and they don't make a lot from me. I'm a war veteran.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Better than a Barbie shoe.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Crisis in the Boyette Casa
Claire is at the age where she is starting to like Barbie. She has received several Barbies for gifts, but I confiscate all small accessories. Paul puts everything that will fit into his mouth, and I know Claire is not old enough to determine whether or not he might choke on something.
She's been playing with the Barbies themselves since around Christmas. She likes to take off their clothes and call them Naked Barbie. Her interest has piqued, so I allowed her to have one pair of Barbie shoes. When I gave them to her, I talked to her about Paul and how she must always put her Barbie shoes back into her Barbie bucket because he will get them and put them in his mouth and choke on them. Every time she gets out her Barbies I remind her about Paul. It's become so repetitive that she actually can complete my sentence. "...because he will choke on them and get hurt."
Yesterday I was having computer issues. I was frustrated and decided to take a break. I put Paul in his swing so he could take a nap while I took a shower. I always do this for his own protection. Claire can't get into the swing or sit on him when he is in the swing. As I was headed to the shower, I noticed that Claire's Barbie shoes were on the counter next to the swing. They weren't on the floor, so I didn't say anything about it.
I heard Paul crying the entire time I was showering. He hadn't wanted to take a nap, so I thought he was upset I put him in the swing. I heard him coughing, but sometimes he does that when he's real upset. After I got dressed, I went to pick him up and comfort him and that's when I saw it.
One small gold Barbie high heel on the tray of his swing. The other high heel was nowhere to be found. I asked Claire where the other one was and she started apologizing and ran out of the room.
She fed it to him.
I was so mad at her I made her stay in her room for an hour and a half until I calmed down. I know kids like to experiment and put things in their mouth, and if I hadn't specifically, repeatedly, explained the dangers of Barbie shoes to her, I wouldn't have been as upset. She did it on purpose. I was flabbergasted that a near-three year old would be so defiant. It is fascinating to me to watch her moral compass develop. I wasn't fascinated yesterday, though. I was so mad I didn't know what to do.
Paul was not choking. He was breathing fine. He was happy. I stuck my finger down his throat and found no obstructions. I called Adam and he recommended I call the doctor. Then he asked my advice on what part to buy from the junkyard. For any man reading this, please know that when your wife calls with an emergency crisis, it is not the time to talk to her about something at the junkyard. That just adds to her anxiety and frustration.
I called the doctor and she told me to feed him a piece of bread. Everything's fine now. Claire's out of time-out. She lost her Barbie privileges for a week, at least. Adam apologized and made his own decision about the junkyard. I took a deep breath and am trying to take a CSI approach to checking poo for Barbie shoes.
She's been playing with the Barbies themselves since around Christmas. She likes to take off their clothes and call them Naked Barbie. Her interest has piqued, so I allowed her to have one pair of Barbie shoes. When I gave them to her, I talked to her about Paul and how she must always put her Barbie shoes back into her Barbie bucket because he will get them and put them in his mouth and choke on them. Every time she gets out her Barbies I remind her about Paul. It's become so repetitive that she actually can complete my sentence. "...because he will choke on them and get hurt."
Yesterday I was having computer issues. I was frustrated and decided to take a break. I put Paul in his swing so he could take a nap while I took a shower. I always do this for his own protection. Claire can't get into the swing or sit on him when he is in the swing. As I was headed to the shower, I noticed that Claire's Barbie shoes were on the counter next to the swing. They weren't on the floor, so I didn't say anything about it.
I heard Paul crying the entire time I was showering. He hadn't wanted to take a nap, so I thought he was upset I put him in the swing. I heard him coughing, but sometimes he does that when he's real upset. After I got dressed, I went to pick him up and comfort him and that's when I saw it.
One small gold Barbie high heel on the tray of his swing. The other high heel was nowhere to be found. I asked Claire where the other one was and she started apologizing and ran out of the room.
She fed it to him.
I was so mad at her I made her stay in her room for an hour and a half until I calmed down. I know kids like to experiment and put things in their mouth, and if I hadn't specifically, repeatedly, explained the dangers of Barbie shoes to her, I wouldn't have been as upset. She did it on purpose. I was flabbergasted that a near-three year old would be so defiant. It is fascinating to me to watch her moral compass develop. I wasn't fascinated yesterday, though. I was so mad I didn't know what to do.
Paul was not choking. He was breathing fine. He was happy. I stuck my finger down his throat and found no obstructions. I called Adam and he recommended I call the doctor. Then he asked my advice on what part to buy from the junkyard. For any man reading this, please know that when your wife calls with an emergency crisis, it is not the time to talk to her about something at the junkyard. That just adds to her anxiety and frustration.
I called the doctor and she told me to feed him a piece of bread. Everything's fine now. Claire's out of time-out. She lost her Barbie privileges for a week, at least. Adam apologized and made his own decision about the junkyard. I took a deep breath and am trying to take a CSI approach to checking poo for Barbie shoes.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Yin/Yang
I believe in the yin and yang. Or is it ying/yang? Or you could call it karma, or you could call it divine intervention, or you could call it God putting me in my place now and then.
Claire spilled milk the other day and I lost it. I am so tired to cleaning up messes! Do not eat off my floor, because no matter how often I mop it, it's dirty. Of course I clean up after every spill, but there are so many! Cheerios, smooshed strawberries, spilled milk, urine, dog food and water....It's all over my floor. The other day I hadn't finished my essential cup of coffee before Claire spilled my giant glass of Carnation Instant Breakfast. She just stood there looking at it. I was furious. I know spills are a part of life, but get a towel and start cleaning it up! Come on! I threw her a towel and yelled, making her mop up her mess. Of course I felt terrible immediately afterward, but that wasn't all.
At lunch that day, yours truly spilled her own giant glass of water. I was definitely put in my place.
I took Claire and Paul to the zoo this week, and Claire asked for the leash. I obliged. Then I realized, "Hey stupid, maybe it's not all about you! Maybe it's a security thing for her, too! Maybe she doesn't want to get lost!" I immediately sucked it up and lost my embarrassment. I was doing all that whining about the stupid leash but forgot to look past my own pathetic nose.
Sunday I taught a class at church. We were discussing the book UnChristian and our own conceptions of other Christians. Many in the group had bad experiences at different churches and were complaining about them (me included.) Then one guy said, "Look here on the survey. One of the top perceptions of Christianity is that we are judgmental. We just proved that." Oops.
And lastly, last night we were out of milk, so I stopped in Albertson's after Girls' Night Out. I grabbed milk and a bottle of wine. I called Adam and offered to buy him a particular beer. He declined. The beer cost $8.99/6-pack, so I was kind of glad he said no. I would have bought it if he wanted it, but didn't really want to buy beer that high. Now my cheap wine was also $8.99, but of course that was different....Blah blah.
At the register, the people in front of me were upset. Their foodstamps card had just been declined. They were buying bread, bagels, cream cheese and a couple of other items. Their bill was $8.90 and they couldn't afford it. Of course I offered and bought their groceries for them. So there I was, whining in my head about the price of beer, not thinking twice about buying wine for the same price, and there was a family that couldn't afford actual food for the same price. The cashier told me after they left that the lady was pregnant and they were on the way to the hospital to visit her mother, who was in the last stages of cancer and dying.
I am not a humble person, but I am often humbled by experiences like this.
Claire spilled milk the other day and I lost it. I am so tired to cleaning up messes! Do not eat off my floor, because no matter how often I mop it, it's dirty. Of course I clean up after every spill, but there are so many! Cheerios, smooshed strawberries, spilled milk, urine, dog food and water....It's all over my floor. The other day I hadn't finished my essential cup of coffee before Claire spilled my giant glass of Carnation Instant Breakfast. She just stood there looking at it. I was furious. I know spills are a part of life, but get a towel and start cleaning it up! Come on! I threw her a towel and yelled, making her mop up her mess. Of course I felt terrible immediately afterward, but that wasn't all.
At lunch that day, yours truly spilled her own giant glass of water. I was definitely put in my place.
I took Claire and Paul to the zoo this week, and Claire asked for the leash. I obliged. Then I realized, "Hey stupid, maybe it's not all about you! Maybe it's a security thing for her, too! Maybe she doesn't want to get lost!" I immediately sucked it up and lost my embarrassment. I was doing all that whining about the stupid leash but forgot to look past my own pathetic nose.
Sunday I taught a class at church. We were discussing the book UnChristian and our own conceptions of other Christians. Many in the group had bad experiences at different churches and were complaining about them (me included.) Then one guy said, "Look here on the survey. One of the top perceptions of Christianity is that we are judgmental. We just proved that." Oops.
And lastly, last night we were out of milk, so I stopped in Albertson's after Girls' Night Out. I grabbed milk and a bottle of wine. I called Adam and offered to buy him a particular beer. He declined. The beer cost $8.99/6-pack, so I was kind of glad he said no. I would have bought it if he wanted it, but didn't really want to buy beer that high. Now my cheap wine was also $8.99, but of course that was different....Blah blah.
At the register, the people in front of me were upset. Their foodstamps card had just been declined. They were buying bread, bagels, cream cheese and a couple of other items. Their bill was $8.90 and they couldn't afford it. Of course I offered and bought their groceries for them. So there I was, whining in my head about the price of beer, not thinking twice about buying wine for the same price, and there was a family that couldn't afford actual food for the same price. The cashier told me after they left that the lady was pregnant and they were on the way to the hospital to visit her mother, who was in the last stages of cancer and dying.
I am not a humble person, but I am often humbled by experiences like this.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Small Miracles and Grace
Long ago, before I joined the Methodist church, I understood grace to be poise and put-togetherness. Audrey Hepburn, but not Sarah....No, I've never had that kind of grace.
Now I have a different understanding of the word. Getting something you don't deserve; that's grace. I am constantly the recipient of that kind of grace. Just this last week has been full of grace. Here are three small miracles that have happened here at our house:
1. We have a vinyl-lined pool that desparately needed a new liner. We've been worried about replacing it since the original quote we got on it was almost $4,000. We just had a guy do it for half of that. We're budgeting every dollar since I quit working last year, so that was a small miracle the money we'd been saving for that was more than enough.
2. Our computer died. Adam can get it to work for 10 or 15 minutes at a time by doing something to a battery inside, but that's about all. It's about to be dead forever. After replacing the pool liner, we really don't have money for a new computer. I was telling my friend Alli this and she said that her husband was about to sell a good laptop for $100. I jumped at the opportunity. The laptop works great and is actually an upgrade from the dead computer!
3. Every year, since we've been married, we've owed money on our taxes. We feared this year would be our biggest year yet because we received gas lease money in the fall and would have to pay taxes on that. Adam did our taxes yesterday and we actually get $200 back! Now that's a miracle!
Audrey Hepburn be damned. My life is full of grace! (and gratitude)
Now I have a different understanding of the word. Getting something you don't deserve; that's grace. I am constantly the recipient of that kind of grace. Just this last week has been full of grace. Here are three small miracles that have happened here at our house:
1. We have a vinyl-lined pool that desparately needed a new liner. We've been worried about replacing it since the original quote we got on it was almost $4,000. We just had a guy do it for half of that. We're budgeting every dollar since I quit working last year, so that was a small miracle the money we'd been saving for that was more than enough.
2. Our computer died. Adam can get it to work for 10 or 15 minutes at a time by doing something to a battery inside, but that's about all. It's about to be dead forever. After replacing the pool liner, we really don't have money for a new computer. I was telling my friend Alli this and she said that her husband was about to sell a good laptop for $100. I jumped at the opportunity. The laptop works great and is actually an upgrade from the dead computer!
3. Every year, since we've been married, we've owed money on our taxes. We feared this year would be our biggest year yet because we received gas lease money in the fall and would have to pay taxes on that. Adam did our taxes yesterday and we actually get $200 back! Now that's a miracle!
Audrey Hepburn be damned. My life is full of grace! (and gratitude)
Friday, April 10, 2009
Mommy Madness
Dear North Texas Chevy Dealers,
I recently applied for the Mommy Madness DFW Chevy Traverse Sweepstakes. I think I am a good choice for this sweepstakes for a number of reasons including my station in life, my writing ability, and my current vehicle choice. I was limited to 50 words in my application on your website, so I am now using my blog as my campaign platform.
I am a full-time mother of two active children. Claire is almost three, and Paul is nine months. They enjoy fighting and chasing each other, Claire running and Paul crawling as fast as he can. I was a first grade teacher for six years and quit when I gave birth to Paul. I still keep in contact with my teacher friends and have made several new "mom" friends. I am very active in my church and regularly visit several elderly people. I am titled a "stay-at-home" mom, but it is a rare day that we actually stay-at-home. If I win, I will make sure your vehicle is covered in advertisements and that they are displayed all over the metroplex.
Writing is one of my gifts. I have a journalism degree, but never was able to use it. Winning the Mommy Madness contest would give me a chance to use all those unused skills. I often think my life consists entirely of chauffering and poop, so this would be a great opportunity for me to expand my horizons and remind me that I am more than a diaper genie.
I drive a VW Jetta. I owned three Ford Escorts, back to back before I switched to Volkswagon. I have been happy with my vehicle, but have never driven a Chevy. (I never liked the Fords, but that was all I could afford in college.) I'm interested to learn about the Chevy experience, but more than that, I'm interested in driving an SUV. I have always driven a small car and frankly, am intimidated by SUVs. This would be a great opportunity for me to test out my SUV driving skills and see if I could actually handle it. I am also interested to see how my children's behavior would change in a larger car. Right now they fight constantly in the car. I never realized a baby could put up a fight, but my Paul holds his own against his sister.
All of these are reasons why I would be a perfect candidate to win your contest and drive the Chevy Traverse. I hope you agree.
Sincerely,
Sarah Boyette
I recently applied for the Mommy Madness DFW Chevy Traverse Sweepstakes. I think I am a good choice for this sweepstakes for a number of reasons including my station in life, my writing ability, and my current vehicle choice. I was limited to 50 words in my application on your website, so I am now using my blog as my campaign platform.
I am a full-time mother of two active children. Claire is almost three, and Paul is nine months. They enjoy fighting and chasing each other, Claire running and Paul crawling as fast as he can. I was a first grade teacher for six years and quit when I gave birth to Paul. I still keep in contact with my teacher friends and have made several new "mom" friends. I am very active in my church and regularly visit several elderly people. I am titled a "stay-at-home" mom, but it is a rare day that we actually stay-at-home. If I win, I will make sure your vehicle is covered in advertisements and that they are displayed all over the metroplex.
Writing is one of my gifts. I have a journalism degree, but never was able to use it. Winning the Mommy Madness contest would give me a chance to use all those unused skills. I often think my life consists entirely of chauffering and poop, so this would be a great opportunity for me to expand my horizons and remind me that I am more than a diaper genie.
I drive a VW Jetta. I owned three Ford Escorts, back to back before I switched to Volkswagon. I have been happy with my vehicle, but have never driven a Chevy. (I never liked the Fords, but that was all I could afford in college.) I'm interested to learn about the Chevy experience, but more than that, I'm interested in driving an SUV. I have always driven a small car and frankly, am intimidated by SUVs. This would be a great opportunity for me to test out my SUV driving skills and see if I could actually handle it. I am also interested to see how my children's behavior would change in a larger car. Right now they fight constantly in the car. I never realized a baby could put up a fight, but my Paul holds his own against his sister.
All of these are reasons why I would be a perfect candidate to win your contest and drive the Chevy Traverse. I hope you agree.
Sincerely,
Sarah Boyette
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Chimpanzees
For my birthday, the family got a zoo membership. Claire, Paul, and I have been enjoying it at least weekly since spring break. It's nice to be able to go to the zoo for just an hour and not feel pressured to see all the animals; we can see them next time.
Yesterday the chimpanzees were up and in a performing mood, so the kids and I sat there for half an hour watching them. They were jumping, playing, and having lots of fun. We got to watch them eat and interact with each other. Then the mother started nursing her baby and I immediately related and was a little bit jealous. Wouldn't it be cool, I thought, if all I had to worry about was feeding my kids and having fun? I never had to throw them in the car and rush anywhere, I never had to clean cheerios off the floor or out of hair...
Then one of the chimpanzees backed his rear toward us and pooped. I immediately woke up and back to reality. Pooping in public? No thank you. I think I'll be a human. Of course, I didn't see the mom have to rush over there and clean the poop.....Hmmmmm....Might not be as bad as I thought.
Yesterday the chimpanzees were up and in a performing mood, so the kids and I sat there for half an hour watching them. They were jumping, playing, and having lots of fun. We got to watch them eat and interact with each other. Then the mother started nursing her baby and I immediately related and was a little bit jealous. Wouldn't it be cool, I thought, if all I had to worry about was feeding my kids and having fun? I never had to throw them in the car and rush anywhere, I never had to clean cheerios off the floor or out of hair...
Then one of the chimpanzees backed his rear toward us and pooped. I immediately woke up and back to reality. Pooping in public? No thank you. I think I'll be a human. Of course, I didn't see the mom have to rush over there and clean the poop.....Hmmmmm....Might not be as bad as I thought.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
I Will Not Judge You
Before I had kids, I was very concious of my appearance. Not my physical appearance, mind you, I have never been a primper. I was very worried about manners and social graces. I don't worry about it any more.
If your kid screams and throws a fit at the store, I will not judge you. I have been there.
If you arrive at your destination and realize that somehow you and your daughter have ketchup stains on your clothes and your son has spit up, I will not judge you. I've been there recently.
If you have to put your kid on a leash, I will not judge you. I did it again this week.
I can't remember the last time I wore makeup; clean clothes are more important to me now. And clean clothes are less important than happy kids.
Every time I catch myself judging someone, I find myself in the same situation and have to put my foot in my mouth. The other night we were at Best Buy and I was horrified to see a guy sitting on a bench with half of his rear hanging out of his pants. Yesterday I was at the Apple store, trying all my mommy magic to contain my two-year old and keep her from breaking everything in the store. She wasn't upset, she was just very excited and rambunctious. Paul was in the baby sling fussing. It was at that point, when I was bending over to contain Claire that I realized my working out finally has paid off. That's good, but what's not good is that I was the Best Buy guy, and I couldn't do anything about it. I was showing the store my rear, but I decided it was more important to prevent Claire from breaking a new IMac.
So I say to you. If your pants are too big and you accidentally show me your rear, I will not judge you.
I think I have covered pretty much every embarrassing situation with the promise of more to come. So don't ever be embarrassed around me. I've been there.
If your kid screams and throws a fit at the store, I will not judge you. I have been there.
If you arrive at your destination and realize that somehow you and your daughter have ketchup stains on your clothes and your son has spit up, I will not judge you. I've been there recently.
If you have to put your kid on a leash, I will not judge you. I did it again this week.
I can't remember the last time I wore makeup; clean clothes are more important to me now. And clean clothes are less important than happy kids.
Every time I catch myself judging someone, I find myself in the same situation and have to put my foot in my mouth. The other night we were at Best Buy and I was horrified to see a guy sitting on a bench with half of his rear hanging out of his pants. Yesterday I was at the Apple store, trying all my mommy magic to contain my two-year old and keep her from breaking everything in the store. She wasn't upset, she was just very excited and rambunctious. Paul was in the baby sling fussing. It was at that point, when I was bending over to contain Claire that I realized my working out finally has paid off. That's good, but what's not good is that I was the Best Buy guy, and I couldn't do anything about it. I was showing the store my rear, but I decided it was more important to prevent Claire from breaking a new IMac.
So I say to you. If your pants are too big and you accidentally show me your rear, I will not judge you.
I think I have covered pretty much every embarrassing situation with the promise of more to come. So don't ever be embarrassed around me. I've been there.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Kid Leash Part 2
Since they first came out, I have hated mini-vans. I think they are hideous and look like rats. I'm sorry if you drive one. A mini-van is also a sure sign of a distracted driver, so I like to steer clear of them on the highway. I hate them and mock them every chance I get.
It's the same with kids on a leash. Who is such a bad parent that they can't hold their kid's hand and prevent them from running in the street? Kids are not dogs. It's medieval, barbaric, and shameful.
Claire wore one again yesterday. My fear is that the next step to my loss of self-respect is the purchase of a mini-van.
We rode the TRE to downtown Dallas with Adam's mom and Morgan. I carried Paul in the Baby Bjorn again so I wouldn't have to mess with pushing a stroller and parking it on the train. As soon as we got off the train, Claire started fidgeting and getting cranky. "I don't want to hold your hand!" she yelled at me. She actually requested the leash. I was horrified but complied. It kept her from running in the street, so I'm glad we had it.
Some pre-teen boys passed us and were obviously talking about Claire. I was mortified and confronted them. "Yes," I said. "I know it's awful. She is on a leash. I have to keep her out of the street." Their mom graciously came up to me and said, "Hey, whatever works. You have to keep your kid safe. It's actually pretty cute."
The whole day I pitied myself for getting to the point that I had to leash up my child. I don't think I was very pleasant. (Add more shame to my self-pity when Claire pulled the fire alarm in an elevator. Luckily I cancelled it.)
On the train ride home, I was wallowing in self-pity and exhaustion. (Carrying a 23-lb. child on the front of your chest and a loaded backpack on your back really wears you out.) Then another mother got on the train who obviously deserved my pity more. She had three kids, one of whom was suffering from extreme allergies, with puffy eyes and a runny nose. One kid, who was Claire's age, was wearing pajamas, and her third kid was strapped in her overloaded double-stroller. She looked homeless and exhausted.
I offered her my water, wipes, diapers, hand sanitizer, crackers, cookies, and everything else I had been whining about that was weighing down my backpack. She accepted immediately and her kids started eating everything I had given them. They were obviously hungry. She told me that they had been homeless for a long time, but just a week ago got an apartment. I told her I was proud of her. We commiserated mom-to-mom.
And then I felt better. My backpack and heart was lighter. Who cares if I have to put my kid on a leash at the zoo or downtown Dallas? She's safe. We have a home, food, and friends. That's the important part. And even if I'm forced to drive a mini-van someday, I will try to remember what's important and thank God for my vehicle.
It's the same with kids on a leash. Who is such a bad parent that they can't hold their kid's hand and prevent them from running in the street? Kids are not dogs. It's medieval, barbaric, and shameful.
Claire wore one again yesterday. My fear is that the next step to my loss of self-respect is the purchase of a mini-van.
We rode the TRE to downtown Dallas with Adam's mom and Morgan. I carried Paul in the Baby Bjorn again so I wouldn't have to mess with pushing a stroller and parking it on the train. As soon as we got off the train, Claire started fidgeting and getting cranky. "I don't want to hold your hand!" she yelled at me. She actually requested the leash. I was horrified but complied. It kept her from running in the street, so I'm glad we had it.
Some pre-teen boys passed us and were obviously talking about Claire. I was mortified and confronted them. "Yes," I said. "I know it's awful. She is on a leash. I have to keep her out of the street." Their mom graciously came up to me and said, "Hey, whatever works. You have to keep your kid safe. It's actually pretty cute."
The whole day I pitied myself for getting to the point that I had to leash up my child. I don't think I was very pleasant. (Add more shame to my self-pity when Claire pulled the fire alarm in an elevator. Luckily I cancelled it.)
On the train ride home, I was wallowing in self-pity and exhaustion. (Carrying a 23-lb. child on the front of your chest and a loaded backpack on your back really wears you out.) Then another mother got on the train who obviously deserved my pity more. She had three kids, one of whom was suffering from extreme allergies, with puffy eyes and a runny nose. One kid, who was Claire's age, was wearing pajamas, and her third kid was strapped in her overloaded double-stroller. She looked homeless and exhausted.
I offered her my water, wipes, diapers, hand sanitizer, crackers, cookies, and everything else I had been whining about that was weighing down my backpack. She accepted immediately and her kids started eating everything I had given them. They were obviously hungry. She told me that they had been homeless for a long time, but just a week ago got an apartment. I told her I was proud of her. We commiserated mom-to-mom.
And then I felt better. My backpack and heart was lighter. Who cares if I have to put my kid on a leash at the zoo or downtown Dallas? She's safe. We have a home, food, and friends. That's the important part. And even if I'm forced to drive a mini-van someday, I will try to remember what's important and thank God for my vehicle.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Kid Leash
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I am typing this with one eye peeking out from my hands which cover my face in shame. I put Claire on a leash today.
And I now apologize to my friend who gave me the leash (She didn't know I cringed when I received it.) and every mother I've ever laughed at for putting her child on a leash. Please accept my humblest of apologies.
Our niece, Morgan, is staying with us for her spring break. She's eight and a good helper/Claire distracter. We took her to the zoo today, which sounded like a good idea until we realized 10,000 other people had the same idea.
Paul was strapped to my chest in the Baby Bjorn and Claire rode in the wagon/held hands. Morgan rotated between pulling the wagon and riding in it. All was well until Claire started getting tired and fussy. She didn't want to hold hands, she didn't want to ride, she really wanted lunch and a nap, but wasn't getting the nap yet. In desperation, I got out the kid leash.
It's not horrible looking. It's actually quite friendly-looking. It's shaped like a monkey backpack, with the tail as the restraining mechanism for your unruly child.
So I was tired, tired of carrying a giant baby on my chest, tired of the crowd and heat, and tired of fighting with Claire. I hooked her on the leash, swallowing all my pride and yours, too.
I scanned the crowd, searching people's faces for the response I know I give others who use kid leashes. No one seemed to notice or care. Except Claire. She loved it! "This is my monkey leash!" she said proudly. Morgan held her leash and was able to show her several exhibits I couldn't get to with the wagon and Buddha baby on my belly.
So I apologize. The leash saved my child and my sanity today. I didn't have to spank her or fight with her or search the zoo for her. She was happy, and actually cried when we took it off. If you want to put your kid on a leash, I will no longer judge you.
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Sunday, March 15, 2009
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