Extreme Couponing

My husband and I are currently watching Extreme Couponing because he is hogging the remote. I know better than to watch this, but he wants me to learn some tips. He's impressed by how much money these women save, and he is making me nervous! He's even fascinated by how they stockpile things in every nook and cranny of their homes. He said, "we have the space for that!" in a way that makes me want to move to a 1 bedroom apartment just to keep him from brainstorming ways to stash $20,000 worth of groceries and only spend $20. If I spent all my time clipping coupons, planning my shopping trips, and stowing immense amounts of groceries, I would have to use the savings from couponing to pay a maid and nanny, and then it would all even out. You know, except for the fact that I would be completely out of my mind! I can't even think like a couponer. Given the fact that I habitually forget my $2 off coupon for pull-ups that will probably expire before I remember to whip it out at checkout and that I can't even remember my reusable shopping bags (that I keep IN the car just so I will always have them on hand), I would have to say our grocery bill will never be $120 for a month. Sorry, Babe. I think this will also be the last time I watch this show because I'm getting sweaty hands just thinking about the lengths required to be an extreme couponer.
There's a reason this show is immediately followed by Hoarders! 

The Coolest Bed Ever

My baby is turning 3 this weekend, and to celebrate, we let the oldest child dismantle the crib, and we ordered a new big kid bed.
I was thinking practically and had planned to get him a plain, wooden twin bed. A good bed that would last him until college...or at least until he and his brother have a jumping contest that results in irreparable damage to the frame, which could really happen at any time. The daddy, however, picked out and ordered a Lightning McQueen race car bed that will surely be the envy of every boy who has a bed that his MOM picked out.
This same daddy was conveniently in Chicago (a 5 hour plane ride away) when the bed arrived and was ready to be picked up and assembled.
My smallest friend and I rode to the store to get it and exchanged worried smiles when the guys rolled out a 8 foot box that almost outweighed her. It took some serious finagling to get it in the car, and by that I mean we had to wedge it to where we could strap down the hatch of the SUV and drive without the box flying out the back end. To accomplish this, we had to move our seats all the way forward, and I drove us home by steering with my belly while the two guys who helped load it stared in silence. I'm sure they had plenty to say about us after we left though.
My mother graciously came by to help me haul the giant pieces up the stairs and assemble the thing, which really wasn't too difficult until we got to the end when there was nothing left but the 700 pages of giant decals. Then my mother suddenly vanished.

Here's the thing about decals: it is a completely misleading term. I think of "decals" as removable. Not so much. These had super strength adhesive that could be used to attach a trailer to a truck in the event the hitch breaks. Thankfully the kids were in bed and were spared any unnecessary exposure to mumbled expletives when the decals would wrinkle or misalign, or the worst-curl up on themselves, sticky side to sticky side. There's also a learning curve to the placement process, and I would have faired better had I started on the side of the bed that's against the wall, but instead, my mistakes are in full view of all who enter the room. The bright blues walls surrounding the giant red race car though are enough of a distraction to keep visitors from looking too closely at my handiwork.
I was quite proud of the finished product, and since the kid was already fast asleep in his brother's room, I was tempted to sleep in the car bed myself, but I was afraid I would exceed the weight limit. Sure enough, the next day, I laid down to read a book to the kids on the bed, and a slat under the mattress popped out. The baby cried, "Mommy! You broke my new bed!" After I scooped up the remains of my ego, I fixed the bed, and now I guess I'll leave the cool race car bed to the little guy. I hope he at least appreciates that I still have adhesive on my fingers from putting it together...and now an E key stuck on the tip of my ring finger. But the bed is cool.

Why I Need to be in Recovery

I have a disorder. It's called Jimmy Choo Infatuation, and there's no cure!!! I should get help, but I kind of like being sick. Jimmy Choo makes the most exquisite shoes I've ever seen. Well, Some of the most exquisite I've ever seen. In Neiman Marcus in San Francisco, I saw some unbelievably amazing blue strappy pumps with glitter on the soles. They were so far out of my price range that I didn't even pick them up for fear I'd have to sell a kid or a kidney to pay for any damages. But the Choos are right up there with the prettiest of the pretty shoes. 
The problem is that they aren't in my budget at all, and I can't justify paying that much for shoes (and what I mean by that is my husband wouldn't let me justify spending that on shoes). The man of the house doesn't get the whole shoe thing, but as my sweet 20 something friend and I have tried to tell him, shoes can make you feel sexy even when your skinny jeans have betrayed you. Shoes will also never make you wear a shirt to the pool like the little two-piece swim suit that looks so cute on the rack will. Shoes love you all the time, and they make you look taller and thinner. Who wouldn't love them?! And come on, if you can find the perfect pair of tan strappy sandals that make you look taller and thinner, feel sexier, and keep that smile on your face all summer long, aren't they worth the triple digit price tag? After all, they're still cheaper than surgery, Botox, or a new wardrobe. Besides, Honey, if a man is looking at my feet, he's not going to be checking out any other part of me, so it's really an investment, an insurance policy! Can I help it that the "insurance" is as much as our car insurance? Alright, fine. I can't justify it either, but looking at them makes me smile. I bet wearing them would make me seem like a brand new wife-younger, thinner, taller, happier. And think of all the time and money THAT would save you!!!