Fri 19 Feb 2010

The Contents of a Girl’s Purse

Posted by Mindy under Family Life, General/Miscellaneous
[14] Comments

My daughter recently discovered that frenzied panic experienced by a woman who has lost something that is oftentimes more important than her car keys, favorite lipstick or (gasp!) most comfortable bra. 

Her purse. 

I have made no apologies for my unnatural but ever-so-real infatuation with purses.  I always have to be carrying one and covet the contents of my purse with an adoration I should probably only be feeling for my husband and children.  It might have something to do with some…ahem…control issues I occasionally experience, but I love having my purse and all its options on my person.  Want some gum?  No problem.  Eyebrows a little too thick?  Got your solution.  Need a new pair of underpants (a growing problem in my household)?  Pick one.   

I had no idea that this obsession with having “my stuff” in its handy-dandy carryall would extend onto my daughter but I’ve seen first-hand that it’s most definitely beginning to have an impact.

A couple of days ago we were heading out to do some grocery shopping.  Avery, like usual, was lollygaggling her way out of her bedroom.

“Come on, Avery.  Time to get a move on,” I said.  The milk ain’t gonna hitchhike it’s way here.  Unfortunately.  But, wouldn’t that be handy? 

“Mom…I’m not ready yet.  I can’t find my purse,” she explained, biting her lip.

“Avery, you’re 7.  I think you’ll probably be just fine if you leave it home this time, hon.”

“No, I really need it.  I’ve got some important stuff in there,” she pleads. 

“Avery, we’ll have to find it when we get home, okay?  We need to get moving.” 

Her face fell.  “Okay.”  With one last resigned look around her she walked over to put her coat on.

At that moment I saw something very familiar.  I recognized a very real emotion.  The kid needed her purse.  And I completely understood that.  It didn’t matter so much what was in the purse.  What was important was that it mattered to her. 

So I helped her find it.

purse blog

Doesn’t this purse just scream ‘burgeoning fashionista’?  And here’s what she was missing.

purse fan blog

Yes, I can certainly see why she needed it so badly.  What if she got hot and needed some quick fanning?  Those grocery stores can be uncomfortably warm and a broken wooden fan would be the obvious choice. 

purse frog blog

I have oftentimes been away from home and wished I had remembered my rubber frog.  My girl earns an A+ for preparedness. 

purse bible blog

Wow.  This girl is prepared for anything. 

purse yoyo blog

Frankly, this one doesn’t surprise me at all.  After the yo-yo heartbreak I experienced I think she’s attempting to support me and my one and only talent.

purse filled blog

The fact of the situation is this.  While the contents of her purse will undoubtedly change as frequently as Jack changes his underpants (all too often…trust me) the reason for it stays the same.  Avery has discovered the freedom that accompanies carrying a purse.  She is beginning the uphill battle from little girl to little lady and has decided that it’ll be an easier fight with a stylish handbag at her side.

I couldn’t be more proud.

Happy Friday,

Mindy

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Wed 17 Feb 2010

Giving My Money Away

Posted by Mindy under Family Life, General/Miscellaneous
[14] Comments

As some of you may know, I recently went away for a night with my girlfriends, all of us in dire need of a little rest and relaxation.  So, naturally, after settling in to our hotel room,we headed out to the nearest casino!

I’m really not much of a gambler, in all honesty, but the thought of possibly hitting “the big one” I must admit was intriguing to me.  Therefore, I approached the casino doors fueled by excitement and a little hope.  (Plus, they were giving away a super-hot yellow Camaro.)

Arm in arm, we entered the casino, our senses immediately assaulted by clanging machines, dispensing money machines and….secondhand smoke.  Yep, we were definitely home.

First step was to facilitate a ‘complimentary fountain drink drive-by’.  All the elbow jabbing and high-fiving we did at our score, I’m fairly certain, put giant marks on our foreheads reading “Warning:  these girls obviously do not frequent gambling establishments.” 

Second step was to scope out the surrounding area, to see where the winning machines were located.  We turned around, backs to the fountain drinks dispenser, and perused our options.   As we sucked down our Cokes (after all, these were free drinks people) we spotted out our destination…the penny machines.  Strangely, there were very few people setting up camp at these machines which immediatley got me thinking, “Oh, yeah…there’s our money-makers.  This is going to be easy.”  Collectively, we nodded (after filling up our free drinks, again) and headed over to the slots.

Only a couple of us had planned to gamble (the real adventure-seekers in the group) so we sat down at two machines and plotted our course.  Like real pros, we pulled out our wallets and started counting out cash.  Now, I’ve heard a couple of theories around this whole gambling situation.  1) Never gamble with less than a $100…your odds are much better, 2) It’s not smart gambling to switch machines after only a few rounds, commit to your slots and 3) In case you don’t have a $100, settle on the $5-spot burnin’ in your wallet.

Obviously, I went with theory number three.

I fed my money into the machine and hunkered down to make a little magic. And I was on a real bender there for awhile.  I grew my measly 500 credits to an astonishing 1500!  You’ve got it.  I was up $10.00!  Thoughts of my winnings were flashing through my mind.  What could I do with my profits?  I could buy lunch, put 4 gallons of gas in my tank, go crazy at a the Dollar Tree.  It would be very practical to cash out my winnings and just walk away.

And the following proves how strong my resolve (and practicality) is. 

I kept gambling.  Like a fiend in a frenzy I kept pressing that “Spin” button, watching my winnings melt away with each misaligned ‘7′, in hopes that the ever-elusive jackpot would hit.

And, it didn’t.  There would be no lunch, no 4 gallons of gas and definitely no shopping spree at the local Dollar Tree.  And I most definitely would not be racing home in a bright yellow Camaro. 

Fortunately, I did have a single moment of clarity when I decided it would make sense to cash out when I was back down to my original $5.00.  Better to walk away dead-even than dead-broke.  Or so I’m told.

We ladies reconvened at the complimentary fountain drink bar and filled up our mini-cups one last time, surveying the casino.  Sure there were plenty of winning machines sounding off their joyous alarms but there were as many or more machines as dead as the ones we had been playing.  And sitting in front of those machines were people chasing the same dream as me.   I wondered if they took advice from theory number one and invested an entire Ben Franklin or were merely testing the waters as I had done. 

We decided to quit the casino and move on to a more free, albeit less exhilarating, location…the beach.  I’m sure I will be back to that casino someday to try my hand at that jackpot again. 

Only next time, I think I’ll increase my gamble a bit.  I might have a bit more luck with a ten-spot.  I’m not sure I’m quite ready to commit to more (unless there’s another Camaro-at-stake or lifetime passes to the Thunder from Down Under.)  Hey…everyone has their price.

Mindy

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Mon 15 Feb 2010

Valentine’s Day

Posted by Mindy under Family Life, General/Miscellaneous
[10] Comments

So, how did you celebrate Valentine’s Day?  Was it a holiday filled with love, passion and romantic notions?  Were there roses and little chocolate hearts gracing your bed pillow?  Did your sweetheart whisper sweet-nothings into your ear pledging his or her undying devotion, romantic music playing in the background?

Yeah, mine was almost like that.  Except take away the  passion, notions, roses, chocolate and sweet nothings and substitute the romantic music for the sweet whir of Daytona racing.  Ahhh…the romance.

I remember the days of Valentine’s past.  The romance ranged anywhere from anonymous roses delivered in homeroom class to a slightly more mature holiday celebrated over a candlelit dinner with a spectacular view of the ocean.  I’ve always loved this day but the meaning has certainly changed for me over the years.  What began as a holiday centered solely on the flowers and candy has slowly evolved into a holiday centered solely on love. 

For the first time in about twelve years of celebrating Valentine’s day with my husband I initiated a “no-gift” policy…and actually meant it.  I will have to admit that I have actually previously verbalized my intentions of not wanting to exchange presents only to have changed my mind about 30 seconds after realizing that Jer actually took me seriously.  Imagine my poor bewildered husband standing in front of me with empty hands discovering that, yet again, he married a liar.   And in subsequent years he learned to always have a gift at the ready, despite my insistance that they were entirely unnecessary.  (Obviously, they were.)

But this year was very different.  I suggested (yet again) that we save our money and not exchange gifts.

“Yeah, right,” Jer answered.

“I’m serious.”

“Uh, huh,” he says.

“No, really, Jer.  We were just saying we needed to save a little money.  We love each other. We know it.  Let’s not do gifts.”

He looks at me sideways.  “Okay.  Are you serious?  Is this going to be one of those situations where I listen to you and then I look like the big ass when I have nothing for you?”

“No, Jer.  I am completely serious here.  I do not need anything for Valentine’s Day. We’re good.”

“Al…right.  I guess,” he says. 

And, folks.  I can tell he’s still not trusting me.  About an hour later he comes back out from the garage and says, “Um, Mindy?  I’ve been thinking about this whole ‘not get each other anything’ situation and I’m not sure about something.”

“What, Jer?  What are you not sure of?” I ask, exasperated.  We’ve already gone over this.

“I don’t believe you.  Somehow I’m going to end up screwing this thing up and now I’m all worried about it.” 

And this here was my defining moment.  This was the pivotal point in time when I realized that Valentine’s Day has taken on a completely different meaning for me.  Because listening to Jeremy and his “should I/shouldn’t I” struggle only reiterated to me that this year I was much more interested in simply spending the day together than opening little gift-wrapped heart-shaped jewelry boxes.

“Jeremy,” I began as I walked up and wrapped my arms around him.  “I seriously do not want anything for Valentine’s Day.  We need to save some money.  I’d much rather just spend the day with you and the kids than waste a bunch of money on dinner out and gifts.”

And with that, he believed me.  I woke up Valentine’s Day to absolutely nothing.  And I’m actually okay with that. 

Now, don’t misunderstand me here.  If we ever get into the position where spending money is of little consequence than you better believe I’ll be fully expecting a little somethin’-somethin’ awaiting my very anxious attention. 

But, until then, I’ll stay content with a hug from my (extremely paranoid) honey. 

Happy Monday,

Mindy

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Fri 12 Feb 2010

A Little Much Needed R&R…

Posted by Mindy under Family Life, General/Miscellaneous
[15] Comments

Happy Friday friends!  It has been quite a week around here and I couldn’t be any more ready for the weekend.  Being a stay-at-home mom, often the end of the week merely blends right in with the working days and all a Friday, Saturday and Sunday mean to me is no guilt when I send the kids to their dad for snacks. 

But this weekend is a little bit different.  This weekend, I am heading to the beach with my girlfriends.  Oh, yes.  Watch out little beach town because four thirty-something tired moms are hittin’ you up for a little Rest and Relaxation. 

Thank the Lord.

And we have quite the agenda.  First up, dinner.  Because what road trip would be complete without the requisite 1000-calorie meal under the justification that “Hey, we’re on vacation so let’s get the mozzarella sticks and the fried zucchini!”? 

Second plan on the agenda…check-in to the hotel.  I’m super-excited because this time around we actually meet the room requirements for inhabitants so there will be no sneaking through any backdoors or hiding under garment bags on the luggage trolley.  I hate deceit.  Except when it costs me an extra $15 per person.  In that situation, I handle it.

Third up (and claiming most potential for major excitement)…gambling at the local casino.  Yes, folks.  We are planning on trying our hand at the tables.  A couple of big spenders throwing the dice on chance.  Okay, that’s a lie.  We’re definitely more of the penny machine types.  Or, if we’re feeling super lucky we hit up the nickel machines.  A person can learn a lot about their fellow members of the human race sidled up to a slot machine, sucking up second-hand smoke and sipping on a free Pepsi.  I can’t wait. 

Fourth plan on the agenda…back to the hotel for a swim in the pool.  This part, not so exciting.  Why?  Because my winter white legs protest being thrust into a lycra/spandex bodysuit, exposed to the harsh chlorine and then subjected to unflattering pool lighting.  My legs’ owner isn’t all that excited about it either.  But…where there’s a pool there will be swimming.  It’s the law of nature.  If not nature, then my sister-in-law who I’m convinced was a mermaid in her past life. 

Fifth plan…sleep.  Ah, blessed Tylenol PM-induced sleep.  Need I say more?

Sixth plan on the agenda…free breakfast.  There’s nothing better than a complimentary morning meal!  And we’ve had some really filling ones.  Others, not so complete.  I am reminded of a hotel stay years ago during a trip to Yellowstone.   The hotel marquis advertised “complimentary breakfast” (one of the benefits compelling us to choose said hotel.)  We all headed down to the so-called breakfast suite early so as not to miss the meal.  We shouldn’t have hurried.  The toaster oven and loaf of white bread were in no danger of going anywhere.

Seventh plan…shopping in Old Town and a walk on the beach.  I’m looking forward to the shopping as I’m plum out of decorative clam shells and personalized mini license plates and have been craving cinnamon salt-water taffy.  And I find nothing more therapeutic to the soul than watching the ocean ebb and flow. 

Final plan on the agenda…driving home to the family.  I always look foward to my trips away from home because they are far and few between.  Like an elbow to a rib, the kids seem to know how to rub me the wrong way when I am at my most vulnerable and in supreme need of alone time.  These short vacations serve as a salve to my overly expended spirit.  I will rest and relax and then go home to my family totally renewed.  And honestly, that’s my favorite part of the trip.

Happy Friday,

Mindy

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Thu 11 Feb 2010

My Prayers Have Finally Been Answered

Posted by Mindy under Family Life, General/Miscellaneous
[8] Comments

Shhh.  Can you hear that?  Yep, you got it.  It’s the angels singing, rejoicing a true miracle here on Earth.  And if you listen real closely you’ll hear a whimsical tinkling, porcelain music to my soul.  The sound of my son not peeing his pants. 

Hallelujah!

I feel like this moment has been a long time coming.  Potty-training is certainly not for the faint of heart.  And, sure, we’ve done this before with Avery (now a 7 year-old) but I can attest that it was a much easier process.

“Avery, stop peeing in your diaper.”

“Okay, mommy.”  End of story.

But Jack, oh Jack, has been an entirely different storyline. 

“Jack, stop peeing in your diaper.”

“What diaper?”

“The one you’re wearing…and peeing in.”

“I not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Nope.”

“Jack…”

“Mommy, I pooped.  Change my diaper.”

We’ve endured countless moments of helplessness watching these encounters, just like the one described above, occur. 

And Jack has been one stubborn little muchacho.  You might remember, if you’ve been reading my blog for awhile (in which case, thank you) we’ve had some very specific trials and tribulations around building this dude a more familiar relationship with the ‘john’.   Quite plainly, he’s been a giant pain in the rear. 

Peeing in the toilet was a whiz (pun fully intended).  Jack discovered quickly that he quite enjoyed letting himself hanging out ‘n about freely.  But, as I explained in this post the other part of the training was not so successful.  To be frank, the kid flat refused to poop in the toilet.  And I was exhausted trying.

So, for the sake of what little sanity hasn’t yet been sapped from my intellect, I stopped for a little while.  Until this happened.  Oh, but I was something mad.  The sheer cheekiness of this kid motivated me to hit the training with an entirely new strategy.  Force him.   Jack spent so much time sitting on that pot his buns cheeks took on a semi-permanent oval indentation.   

And, with a little resilience, we hit payload (hehehe…load).  It finally worked!  Which prompted me to post this.   And man was I in heaven.  Somehow I had convinced myself that Jack’s sudden success was a giant indicator of our future in blissful toilet-directed expelling of bodily fluids and other matter. 

I was wrong.  Which prompted me to post this.  And man, was I no longer in heaven.  Like a slap in the face, I was reminded how so much of life is out of my control.  Bummer.  (It would be a whole lot easier if I had control over everything that happened in this house…easier and more fun.  Well, at least more clean.  And sanitary.)

But today, folks, I m back with yet another potty-training post.  This time, though, my news is optimistic yet realistic.  The kid is done.  He’s toilet trained.  Officially.  Jack’s been accident-free for a good two weeks and has apparently discovered the benefits of toilet freedom. 

Thank the Lord.

I’m hoping that this will not ultimately be a post in vain.  I’m hoping that Jack will continue with this bout of independence (well, as independent as being wiped on a daily basis could be) but we are all estatic that he seems to be moving (bowel moving, that is) in the right direction.  I fully assume and expect that he will have setbacks.  He may even purposely decide he prefers the diaper to the commode (at which point I’ll explain to him that he’s wrong.)   But, we’re on our way.

And the landfill couldn’t be happier.

(End note – in the interest of full disclosure, as I am finishing up this post, Jack has peed his pants.  Lovely.  But, in the infamous words of  Scarlett O’Hara, “After all…tomorrow is another day.”  Let’s just hope it’s not a wet one.)

Mindy

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