Oh Saturdays...I love Saturdays.
I especially love Saturdays when I don't have homework assignments to complete hanging over my head, which is currently the case. Instead of bursting out with exuberant, Superpower energy to clean the messy house, weed the messy garden, get some good long runs in, and read a big stack of library books, however...
I feel gentle, slow, sleepy, and vague. It is nice to really have down time. I've been reading a little here and there, walking the dogs, making waffles, and sitting around with p'tit minou un, talking about our pets. It's a rare pleasure to spend some time with him alone. I am feeling very antisocial, which Minou assured me is normal when one works full-time and interacts with a lot of people on a daily basis (is this true?)
What else to report? Two garden beds weeded and snap peas, chard, kale, and lettuce planted.
I'm starting basil (for pesto) and Principe Borghese tomato seeds (for drying) in the indoor greenhouse.
Three successful blood draws last week on generous coworkers. If you know anyone trying to master venipuncture skills and you don't pass out at the sight of a needle, it is an incredibly appreciated gesture to allow them to practice on you.
The boys began their spring break, and the pressure of time feels temporarily lifted from our household. Even though I am not technically on vacation with them, since I will still be going to work, I don't have to do any evening coursework (for another week). I can't describe the pleasure I have been getting from going to bed early this last week. Reading to p'tit minou deux and then turning out the lights at 9 p.m.
We still have about 1/4 of the original tank of gas from the beginning of this month. Whoo-hoo! My goal is to leave the car in the driveway and walk or bike until April 1st when the kids go back to school.
And on the financial front...A fantastic error in calculations meant that instead of being $500 short of tuition this month, I was actually 2K in the black! How do I create so much stress for myself?! (answer: by not checking the number of credits I will be registering for in advance). I directed it all to the mortgage. I have been going back in forth in my mind about whether it's better to keep paying down the mortgage principal more quickly or find some other investment opportunity (index funds?). I've decided to stay the course and stick with the safer path for now.
How about you? What have your last weeks been like?
Showing posts with label funny boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny boys. Show all posts
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
never be normal
The title of this post is a knockoff of a great one written by Mrs. Money Mustache about how living the frugal life (she would say the Mustachian life) can permanently alter your perception and habits.
She titled her post "You'll never be normal again!"
I took my younger son to the mall yesterday. Why, you ask?
He needed shoes, grey jeans, and long sleeved t-shirts.
Well, he really needed shoes. They do that, those kids, they grow and outgrow things.
The jeans and t-shirts I wouldn't say he really needed.
However, he has decided that grey jeans are the color for him, and so the grey pair now has a giant hole in the knee but he continues to wear them to school. So traditional of me, but it bugs me.
He has blue pairs and black pairs that stay in the closet.
Same with shirts--he has several, but they are either very frayed, too large, or somehow not quite right.
I suggested second-hand shopping--at least twice. But he looked at me earnestly and said, "I've had so many second or third hand clothes in my life, Mama--almost all of my clothes were (p'tit minou un)'s first, and lots of those were someone else's first too."
He is right. And while I know that this is not a bad thing, that wearing hand-me-downs or third-hand clothes does not mean deprivation, I was still swayed--I wanted him to know that he is important to me, that I heard this was important to him, that he meant enough to me that I would swallow my aversion and go to the mall.
And so we did. Yikes. Once we were there, we quickly found jeans, and shoes, and plotted our escape. The smells, the crowds, the lights, the pounding music--it was completely sensory overload for me, and I suspect for p'tit minou deux as well. Because an odd thing happened when we couldn't find any plain, simple, long sleeved t-shirts in either of the two stores we had now been in. Everything had logos, or writing, or branding, and that wasn't what he wanted. Neither did we want to venture any further into that giant place.
He sort of forgot why we had come, and began saying that he didn't really need any more t-shirts (forgetting the weeks of rejecting the ones he has for above reasons or size or conditions). Meanwhile, I went into bossy generalista Mama mode and became very directive, demanding of the young skateboarder/hipster clerk WHY they didn't have PLAIN CHEAP t-shirts and WHERE could someone who HATED the mall find such a thing. Because I was darned if I was going to come back another day after p'tit minou deux remembered that actually he really wanted a t-shirt or two.
Target, the young man told me. Go to Target.
It was in a different mall.
So heck, we were already out and about (driving, I might add)--we drove there too.
I am happy that my son is happy. I want him to have non-ripped and non-frayed clothes to wear to school. I get that he has had almost exclusively hand-me-downs (except for the times his lovely Grammy has taken him shopping), and appreciated having something new for himself. He has the right to have his own opinions about the colors and styles he prefers, and he is usually a very easygoing member of the family who tends not to assert his own wants and needs too strongly (maybe not strongly enough, at times).
However, I feel downright icky. We drove our car at least 15 miles round trip, polluting the air. We bought clothing that was cheap for us because it was likely manufactured by someone in a sweatshop in Nicaragua or Bangladesh. Clothing that he did not really need (except for the shoes). Money spent that is also now not going to melt the mortgage this month.
Did I do the right thing? Am I making too big a deal out of this?
What do you think? Have you had similar dilemmas?
She titled her post "You'll never be normal again!"
I took my younger son to the mall yesterday. Why, you ask?
He needed shoes, grey jeans, and long sleeved t-shirts.
Well, he really needed shoes. They do that, those kids, they grow and outgrow things.
The jeans and t-shirts I wouldn't say he really needed.
However, he has decided that grey jeans are the color for him, and so the grey pair now has a giant hole in the knee but he continues to wear them to school. So traditional of me, but it bugs me.
He has blue pairs and black pairs that stay in the closet.
Same with shirts--he has several, but they are either very frayed, too large, or somehow not quite right.
I suggested second-hand shopping--at least twice. But he looked at me earnestly and said, "I've had so many second or third hand clothes in my life, Mama--almost all of my clothes were (p'tit minou un)'s first, and lots of those were someone else's first too."
He is right. And while I know that this is not a bad thing, that wearing hand-me-downs or third-hand clothes does not mean deprivation, I was still swayed--I wanted him to know that he is important to me, that I heard this was important to him, that he meant enough to me that I would swallow my aversion and go to the mall.
And so we did. Yikes. Once we were there, we quickly found jeans, and shoes, and plotted our escape. The smells, the crowds, the lights, the pounding music--it was completely sensory overload for me, and I suspect for p'tit minou deux as well. Because an odd thing happened when we couldn't find any plain, simple, long sleeved t-shirts in either of the two stores we had now been in. Everything had logos, or writing, or branding, and that wasn't what he wanted. Neither did we want to venture any further into that giant place.
He sort of forgot why we had come, and began saying that he didn't really need any more t-shirts (forgetting the weeks of rejecting the ones he has for above reasons or size or conditions). Meanwhile, I went into bossy generalista Mama mode and became very directive, demanding of the young skateboarder/hipster clerk WHY they didn't have PLAIN CHEAP t-shirts and WHERE could someone who HATED the mall find such a thing. Because I was darned if I was going to come back another day after p'tit minou deux remembered that actually he really wanted a t-shirt or two.
Target, the young man told me. Go to Target.
It was in a different mall.
So heck, we were already out and about (driving, I might add)--we drove there too.
I am happy that my son is happy. I want him to have non-ripped and non-frayed clothes to wear to school. I get that he has had almost exclusively hand-me-downs (except for the times his lovely Grammy has taken him shopping), and appreciated having something new for himself. He has the right to have his own opinions about the colors and styles he prefers, and he is usually a very easygoing member of the family who tends not to assert his own wants and needs too strongly (maybe not strongly enough, at times).
However, I feel downright icky. We drove our car at least 15 miles round trip, polluting the air. We bought clothing that was cheap for us because it was likely manufactured by someone in a sweatshop in Nicaragua or Bangladesh. Clothing that he did not really need (except for the shoes). Money spent that is also now not going to melt the mortgage this month.
Did I do the right thing? Am I making too big a deal out of this?
What do you think? Have you had similar dilemmas?
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
frugal failures
So, a frugal update this week: I have had several splurges on food.
And interestingly, they have all been when I was out and about with p'tit minou deux.
Hmm...I sense a theme here. We may need to carry snacks.
After a trip to the eyedoctor's yesterday, we popped into the bakery for a day-old baguette (a fairly good deal). P'tit minou deux noticed that there were also day-old cream puffs in the pastry case--giant, chocolate-glazed, beautiful cream puffs. He did not ask for one for himself. He asked for one for his Papa, who recently celebrated a birthday and had hoped for a cream puff (they were out that day). How could I say no?
Then this evening, I picked up my tired boy after ballet class. He was wishing for a particularly unhealthy type of junk food, and offered to buy it himself if I would only make an unscheduled stop at the grocery store. At 5:30 pm. Okay, okay, he wanted bright orange cheese puffs!
Again, I was swayed. Feeling like a poor excuse for a nurse, I bought my son cheese puffs, after extracting the promise that he would a) not touch them until after a healthy dinner and b) would share with his brother. We added some bananas to our purchase to make ourselves (me) feel better.
And interestingly, they have all been when I was out and about with p'tit minou deux.
Hmm...I sense a theme here. We may need to carry snacks.
After a trip to the eyedoctor's yesterday, we popped into the bakery for a day-old baguette (a fairly good deal). P'tit minou deux noticed that there were also day-old cream puffs in the pastry case--giant, chocolate-glazed, beautiful cream puffs. He did not ask for one for himself. He asked for one for his Papa, who recently celebrated a birthday and had hoped for a cream puff (they were out that day). How could I say no?
Then this evening, I picked up my tired boy after ballet class. He was wishing for a particularly unhealthy type of junk food, and offered to buy it himself if I would only make an unscheduled stop at the grocery store. At 5:30 pm. Okay, okay, he wanted bright orange cheese puffs!
Again, I was swayed. Feeling like a poor excuse for a nurse, I bought my son cheese puffs, after extracting the promise that he would a) not touch them until after a healthy dinner and b) would share with his brother. We added some bananas to our purchase to make ourselves (me) feel better.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
our lady
Our Lady of the....
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Set up in my meditation space to "scare the something out of me".
Teenagers! You've got to love them. What am I going to do with these practical jokers?
On another note...I started back to school (on-line) yesterday. Please chant with me: B-S-N! B-S-N!
Only five and a half more months to go. Although blogging here is one of my favorite recreations, I need to put myself on a blogging schedule so that I limit my procrastinating diversions. Therefore, I will try to stick to twice a week, on Tuesdays and Saturdays. If you see me here at other times, feel free to send me either encouraging or scolding emails regarding getting back to work.
missing toilet paper???!
Set up in my meditation space to "scare the something out of me".
(the downstairs bathroom was bare of its usual stock)
Teenagers! You've got to love them. What am I going to do with these practical jokers?
On another note...I started back to school (on-line) yesterday. Please chant with me: B-S-N! B-S-N!
Only five and a half more months to go. Although blogging here is one of my favorite recreations, I need to put myself on a blogging schedule so that I limit my procrastinating diversions. Therefore, I will try to stick to twice a week, on Tuesdays and Saturdays. If you see me here at other times, feel free to send me either encouraging or scolding emails regarding getting back to work.
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