Two Chances to Save My Money

I need to go to the grocery store.  I got an email today and they have a great deal on party trays.  Sure sounds like a good idea for New Year's Eve, but I'm just not ready to return to the scene of the crime.  Guess I'll cut up some leftover ham and turkey, throw it on a plate and call it a year.

Which brings me to mention a commercial I saw today for a new age-defying skin cream.  This one promises to take off not the standard ten, but fifteen years.  Assuming it worked and the fifteen years came off my chronological age (making me look 37), I might buy it.  But I'm sure the promise is to take fifteen years off the age I look (which, as we learned yesterday, is over 60).  Yes, for $99 a bottle, this 52-year-old woman could like like a woman in her late 40s.  Woo hoo.

Save Your Money

I won't be wasting my money on expensive facial creams and serums any more.  If anything, I'll start a savings account with what I would normally spend on them.  Some day (God willing, very soon), I'll have enough for what I obviously really need--a full-blown facelift.

I got the senior citizen discount today.  I didn't ask for it.  I didn't want it.  It was only 5%.  All that humiliation and I saved a whopping $2.88 at the grocery store. 

I wanted to believe that maybe this particular store gives the discount to anyone over 50.  I'd like to think I don't look over 50.  Well, I've been proven wrong.

According to this store's website, today I benefitted from their "Club 60" senior discount.  Not only do I look over 50, I look over 60.  Dammit, I just turned 52.

Most Thankless (but rewarding) Job For Which I Never Applied

I try not to post things that might hurt someone else (please forgive me when I fail), but today I need to get this off my chest before I explode.  And I guess it's my way of patting myself on the back for a job well done since all I seem to get from everyone else is blame for everything wrong in the world.   I actually wrote this post two months ago when my motives and character were first attacked, but decided not to publish after I calmed down.  Today, those same people decided to twist the dagger that they had stuck in my heart back then.  Enough is enough.  I can't pack up the kids and say to hell with the rest of the world, so I'll just blog about it.  Thanks, Google, for providing my free therapy.

My non-existent self-esteem has taken another hit.  I saw a comment on Facebook that tore through my heart.  For anyone who doesn't know me personally, there is probably no way you could understand why this hurt me so.  Basically, my youngest granddaughter spent the weekend with her other grandmother, who posted about how excited she was to be spending time with her.  A comment was made by another relative that she should have a right to spoil her granddaughter, and that "people" need to realize how much she loves the child and needs to spend time with her. Those "people" could only be my husband and me, who are raising both our grandchildren.  The implication was that we somehow keep our granddaughter from spending time with her other grandmother. The truth is we try to enable both granddaughters to spend time with other family members who care about them.  We both agree that children need all the love they can get.

History lesson:  When my husband and I had our youngest daughter in our mid-twenties, we decided two children would be enough.  By our calculations we would be child-free by our mid forties, plenty of time left in our lives to spend together traveling and experiencing the life we hadn't had the money (or time) to experience earlier.  The plan seemed foolproof.  (Insert your favorite cliche here:  "We make plans and God laughs", "Life is what happens when you're busy making plans", etc.)

Fast forward:  For the better part of the past twelve years, my husband and I have been raising our two granddaughters.  We didn't "take" them from anyone; we simply stepped up to the plate when they needed a home.  For practical reasons we have legal guardianship, and along with that comes legal responsibility.  We have never received a dime in child support or public assistance.  We pay for all food, clothing, shelter, field trips, school lunches, school supplies, medical insurance and expenses, dental expenses (with a hefty bill for braces looming just ahead), etc.  All vacations are for a group of four (beach trips within driving distance aren't so bad with two extra people, but to double the expenses for a ski vacation or a trip to Disneyworld, or any trip that requires travel on an airplane, you're starting to spend some real money).  Almost every dinner out is a party of four (not only does that make it twice as expensive, but it limits our restaurant choices, and it kills any hope of romance).  And no, we aren't rich.  Not even close.  Frugal, yes.  But that's necessary when there are young mouths to feed (not to mention teeth in those mouths that need to be straightened).

Our normal week consists of getting the kids up for school, getting homework done, making sure showers are taken and teeth are brushed, fighting to get kids to bed at night, preparing meals, cleaning up after meals, doing mountains of laundry, and on and on.  In addition, the kids have to be driven to sports activities, friends' birthday parties, sleepovers and playdates, school activities, clothes shopping, medical appointments, and so on.  And housework--don't get me started on how dirty kids are.  Then there is the responsibility to provide each child with a birthday party and enough presents that they will feel that their day was indeed special.  Add to that the yearly requirement to make Christmas and Easter memorable for them.  Yes, raising children day-in and day-out isn't easy whether they are your own or someone else's offspring.  Just because you have the title "Grandparent" doesn't make it all fun and games.  Someone has to do the dirty work, and in my case, that would be my husband and me.  And the "guest rooms" in my house are now filled with children's furniture and toys.  A few years ago, we spent a small fortune to finish our basement to give the children a place to play and hang out with friends.  My nicest tv is down there, attached to the Wii I bought to entertain the kids.  Would I have rather spent the money on a new car?  Of course.  Our cars are 13 and 14 years old and spend more time in the shop than in our garage.  But we do what needs to be done.  And if that means we take care of other people's children, we sacrifice to do that.  

There are no scheduled visitations with anyone else.  Any visits with other family members are solely based on when those people choose to fit it into their lives, and we try to accommodate them.  We would never try to keep the children from anyone who loves them.  As a matter of fact, it would be welcomed if someone would just once ask if they could take them for an evening so we could have a night to ourselves.  Frankly, my husband and I can't even shop for Christmas together because we have no one to watch the children while we buy their gifts.  Yes, it would be nice to have the luxury of seeing our grandchildren only when it was convenient for us, just the way God intended.  And it would be nice if the money we spent on them got us some kudos from the kids.  But kids don't appreciate the thousands of dollars spent on necessities.  They only see the "fun" stuff that the others buy them (again, when it's convenient for them to do so, not when a necessity rears its ugly head).  I want to be the good guy for a change, not the disciplinarian.  I want to be the fun grandmother, not the nag who's always reminding them to brush their teeth, pick up their stuff, do their homework, stay out of trouble, etc., etc., etc.

Am I bitter?  Hell, yes.  Would I have chosen to raise children into my 60's?  Well, as I said earlier, I planned to be finished caring for children before my 50th birthday (at least with the day-to-day responsibilities that come with minors).  But do I love my grandchildren enough to take on this job 24/7/365 for the next ten years?  Absolutely.  Just don't blame  me if you don't get to see them as often as you'd like.  If you don't call them every week, or ask to visit more often than you do, that isn't my fault.   Don't expect me to take on the task of ensuring a relationship between you and the child.  I'm too damned busy raising them.

My Favorite Christmas Present

I can still remember the excitement I felt that cold, snowy day in December so long ago.  Mama was about to give birth to her sixth (and last) child, but now I was old enough to truly appreciate having a baby around.  Just in time for Christmas, it was as if I was getting a living, breathing doll to play with. 

Living in the south, we didn't often get snow.  But as fate would have it, the weather decided to turn unusually cold and snowy on the morning my mother went into labor.  Mama knew this baby was coming fast.  She was, by now, an expert on labor and delivery.  Daddy went to start the car but the door locks were frozen shut.  There were several tense moments before someone was finally able to thaw enough ice to get the doors open.  And not a moment too soon.  Within minutes of arriving at the hospital, the baby was born.  As much as my younger brother had wanted it to be a boy, he didn't get his wish.  Yes, he had a fifth sister.  And I couldn't have been happier.

I took my baby sister everywhere I possibly could.  At first, I pushed her around in a stroller.  Later, when I was old enough to drive, I would pack her into the car at night when she wouldn't stop crying, and we'd drive around until she fell asleep. 
 

Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that I was a high school student proudly showing my baby sister off all over town.   Now she has sons of her own, two of them already in high school.  We live hundreds of miles apart, and I don't see her nearly as often as I'd like.  But she'll always be my baby sister.  Even though she's grown into a beautiful lady and a wonderful mother, this will never change.

 

Happy birthday, Mendi!

Week before Christmas + School holiday = Total Insanity

Finally, after 30+ years of child-rearing, I've learned that you must complete every task possible before the children are out of school for the holidays.  This year I actually succeeded.  But some things can't be done ahead of time.  That's where it all falls apart.

Last night I found it necessary to sleep on the floor between my 12-year-old granddaughter's bedroom and the Big Bad World.  (If you don't know what I mean, you've never raised an adolescent child.  Or you've been very, very lucky.)  Being a menopausal woman with an 52-year-old body which includes a still-recuperating ankle, I didn't find the floor a restful place to spend the night.  And today I'm cranky.  Or more accurately, I'm a shrieking lunatic who has a lot to get done.  Having children underfoot all day (especially the one who kept me up last night and is still trying to push all my buttons) isn't helping me accomplish anything.

God sent His son to earth to save my weary soul.  As I prepare to celebrate His birth, let me not forget that.

One Day Only?

I've become fascinated with the concept of the "One Day Only" sale.  Often there's a "preview day" the day before the big day.  Isn't this just a two-day sale?

I'm going to use this idea to my advantage.  When my bitchfest drags into a second day, I'll just say day one was "preview day".  And when I wake up on day three itchin' to bitch, well, I'll just say that due to the successes of "preview day" and "the big event", it's been extended for another day.

Smile, Dianna, It's Your Birthday!

No good deed goes unpunished.  When I visited for Thanksgiving, my wonderful sister, Dianna, gave me a stack of old family photos that she had painstakingly copied.  In  honor of her birthday today (I won't say which one, but I will admit she's younger than me),   I thought I'd post her photo from many years ago. 



Happy Birthday, Dianna! Hope today gives you many reasons to smile!

Walking on Clouds

No, I'm not having a super-fantastic happy day.  But I do like my new boots.

I never jumped on the Ugg bandwagon because I thought they were, well Uggly.  But the idea of walking around on shearling?  That got my attention.

Every year during the holiday season Costco sells shearling boots styled  like the classic Uggs.  Since I'm forced to wear flat shoes this winter after breaking my ankle, it seemed to be the perfect excuse to buy a pair.  AAAAAHHHH!  Heaven underfoot. 

And the best part?  Because I bought boots with no label on the back, I saved $140.  I shall wear my label-free boots with pride.  All the way to the bank.






(Bad lighting, but trust me, these are great boots!)



Large Blessings in Small Packages

Twenty-seven years ago today I gave birth to my second daughter.  I feel just as lucky today as I did then. 

Happy Birthday, Jaclyn!

Say What, Martha?

Dang, Martha even has a turkey yard!  (That's a new term to me, but then again, I don't raise poultry.)  She just rattled off the names of  three varieties (breeds? What do you call something you're going to eat?) that she's raising.  I can barely remember the names of my children.  (Well, I can remember the names, just not who they belong to.)

Gardening, cooking, entertaining, decorating, crafting, home maintenance (yes, I've seen her whip out the tools and do some real work), and now I'm learning she raises her own poultry and keeps bees.

I've got to stop watching her show.  It's bad for my self-esteem.

As Long as People Have Birthdays...

...I'll be making cards.

I once had a boss who told me he worked best under pressure.  At the time I didn't understand exactly what that meant.  (Yeah, I was young and stupid.  And the wrong person for that job.)  But now I get it.  Nothing gets done until crunch time.

Here's a card I made for my wonderful brother's birthday.  He's an army vet who happened to be born on November 11th.  But that has nothing to do with the card.  I just wanted to brag about his service and dedication to our country.

Cards for men always stump me.  Luckily, my brother has an alter ego who is a raccoon.  I was flipping through my Cricut cartridge booklets desperately searching for something, when this cute little guy from Give a Hoot jumped out at me.  And the tin can on his head made him look like a real "party animal".  Problem solved!

This Explains a Lot

Lately I've been feeling a little lightheaded.  I wasn't sure what was causing my head to swim, and at my age it was really beginning to worry me.  Then I saw this and it all started to make sense...

My Favorite Anti-Aging Treatment

After spending most of my retirement funds on anti-aging creams and potions, it seems what I really needed to make me look younger was a week at Disneyworld with my family.

Sure, there were a few meltdowns.  That's typical when you combine kids and large crowds.  But then I regained my composure and started to have a good time.

What proved to be truly effective at making me look (or at least feel) younger was spending time at my favorite place on earth with three of my favorite people. And while it takes several weeks for other treatments to show results, I've found that a smile is an instant facelift.

A Very Happy Place

Sometimes life can seem really good.  Little things make all the difference in the world.  My granddaughters are often behind the wheel of the vehicle that drives me over the edge.  But some days they can make me feel like the luckiest woman alive.

Today, for no good reason at all, my 12-year-old granddaughter held my hand.  In a public place.  Well, until she thought someone might see us.  But that was enough to keep a smile on my face for a long, long time.

Holiday Adventures

Today was fun.  I had a mammogram.

First, let me say it was a pleasure just driving there.  Don't ever schedule an appointment of any kind on a holiday. (You can't just say "screw it" and turn around when you find yourself in bumper-to-bumper traffic; you've already made the commitment.) I realize I stayed in bed a little too long this morning, but I had to check the date on my cell phone to be sure I hadn't slept straight through to Black Friday. 

In preparation of standing naked from the waist up and making chit-chat with a total stranger, I had chosen to wear an ill-fitting shirt that gaped open in all the right places. I had a few stops to make before I got to the office, and showing my goodies along the way helped lower my inhibitions.

The imaging center was packed.  Several times one of the employees apologetically announced that they were backed up and she could reschedule anyone for another day if necessary.  Just how far behind must a medical office be when they make an announcement of that kind???  I can honestly say in 52 years I don't recall a single visit to any medical professional that started at the appointed time.  To have someone apologize for the wait made me wonder if this would be an overnight visit.

The wait actually wasn't too long.  Maybe this is the one facility that understands the scheduling process.

When the technician started the procedure, she had those babies squeezed in so tight I thought I might fall to the floor from the pain, but I was pretty sure that would be impossible. We weren't going anywhere. Each time she uncranked them from the vise to change positions, the little things would slip right off and she'd have to gently nudge them back.  I'm sure it wasn't her fault; she had very little to work with.  Well, except for Big Bertha on the left.  She almost fills an A-cup. 

And then it was over.  Not too bad.  I highly recommend it to all women of a "certain age".  Just not on a holiday.

To Those Who Protect Our Freedoms...

...Happy Veterans Day!

You all have my utmost respect and appreciation.  And I'd also like to thank the families who hold down the fort while the soldiers are deployed.

I Really Do Craft (Occasionally)

The past few days have been nothing to joke about, and I sure don't feel like crafting anything, so I decided to cheer myself up by bringing out proof that I have actually used some of my supplies (as opposed to just buying and hoarding).

This is a card I made for my husband on our anniversary back in the spring.  I used the Cricut Sweethearts cartridge for the couple and decided not to add the layers because I liked it as a silhouette.  I also used a Martha Stewart border punch to cut the blue strip on the bottom. 

It's a fairly simple card, but mine usually are.

Ugly Pictures

You didn't really think I would show them, did you?

I wanted a new profile picture since I've finally managed to lose the weight I'd found over the past few years.  As we were leaving for dinner out last night, and while I was actually wearing makeup and had clean hair, I asked the girls to grab the camera and take a few photos of me (I knew it would take several tries to even hope for a good shot).

There wasn't a decent photo in the bunch.  I've always been unphotogenic.  Always.  (Well, except the one baby picture I could find.  That was cute. Or so I thought.) 



Am I wrong?  I sure thought I was cute.



But then it hit me--could Mama have been wrong?  Or worse, did she lie to me???  Maybe the hard, cold fact is I'M JUST NOT ATTRACTIVE.  All the makeup and good lighting in the world can't change that. 

Is that why there aren't more pictures of me as a child?  Maybe Mama and Daddy didn't want photographic evidence that one of their kids was ugly.  They must have clung to that one good photo like grim death.

Oh, and just how thin do I need to get before I no longer look chubby in pictures?





This is the only glimpse you're getting



I'm Gettin' a Dog

No, I don't run a daycare center from my home.  I don't have several toddlers to feed, either.  As a matter of fact, there haven't been any toddlers in my house in a long time (and yes, I have swept since then).  This is what was left behind after my granddaughters had lunch today.  They are 8 and 12. 

Any wonder I hate housework?

Don't Believe Everything You Hear

Someone actually told me yesterday that she thought I was maybe 43 or 44 years old.  I was on cloud nine until I looked back and saw her put on her glasses.  Really, really thick glasses.

Hello???

Anybody there? 

Thought I heard something but I guess it was just the voices in my head.  Again.

I Was Pushed!





What a difference another day makes.  (To see how far I've fallen in 24 hours, read yesterday's post filled with foolish optimism and an unhealthy dose of naivete.)

Yesterday I was on top of the world.  Yep, I was looking down on my kingdom, and life was good.  I knew it wouldn't last.  Couldn't last.  After all, I'm raising three kids (two granddaughters and my husband). 

Kids are stupid.  Well, they act stupid.  All three of mine do, anyway.  The oldest grandchild crammed a ring on her finger and couldn't get it off.  The story I heard was that she actually had to use lotion to get it on her finger (stupid act #1).  At some point in the middle of the night she realized her finger was swelling so she tried to remove the ring.  Gotta give her some credit, though--she got up and searched the internet for advice.  How did we survive before the internet?  Forget that we didn't use child safety seats, seatbelts or bike helmets.  We didn't have the world wide web. 

When morning came and the ring was starting to become one with her finger, she showed it to her grandfather.  He gave her two choices:  let him cut it off (the ring, not her finger) or go to school, ring intact.  Now, understand this is the same man who's gullible enough to let her stay home because she "has a stomachache". But a ring buried in the flesh of her finger???  That's no reason to miss school!  (Stupid act #2, and it's only 7 a.m.  But in his defense, she has missed too much school. And men just don't have the genetic predisposition we mothers have that forces us to worry "what if?" when it comes to children and matters of health.)

Now I must confess that I slept through the morning drama.  I can't sleep at night (any wonder why?), so I sleep when I can.  Usually I fall asleep when the sun is rising and I no longer fear that someone will sneak out of or into my house.  So I guess I'll admit to stupid act #3--being oblivious.

Fast forward to 11 a.m.  Yes, I was up finally.  The phone rang; it was my granddaughter's school calling to inform me that she had a ring embedded in her finger.  They had tried to remove it, but it wasn't budging.  Since the school couldn't risk causing her further injury, they wanted us to pick her up and do the damage ourselves.

Long story short (okay, still too long), we eventually had to cut the ring off and her finger will be just fine.  But my feelings of invincibility from yesterday had been shattered.   That's what family will do--when you fly too close to the sun, they'll sneak up behind you and knock you safely to the ground where you belong.

What a Difference a Day Makes

I woke up this morning, and just like magic I was happy.  I'm rarely happy.  I'm even looking forward to my upcoming Disney trip, not just because I love Disneyworld, but because I want to spend time with the kids.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I know, I'm shocked, too.

I love my granddaughters with every fiber of my being.  But as anyone who might read my blog knows (all three of you), I'm old, tired and can't deal with kids very well these days.  I focus too much on what I thought my life would be like at this age (yes, that's the only time I seem capable of focusing on anything--adult ADD perhaps?)  And then there's MENOPAUSE.  My brain has been scrambled like an egg, then fried.  (I'm thinking I should do a new Public Service Announcement along the lines of the old "This is your brain, this is your brain on drugs..." Only mine will show your brain on MENOPAUSE--scary, huh?)

Yesterday was my birthday.  For the past several days I've been having a meltdown.  I honestly didn't think it had anything to do with tacking another year onto the 50+.  But maybe I was wrong, and I was dreading a bigger number after all. And now that another birthday has come and gone, I seem to be in a much better frame of mind.  I woke up today and life is good.  Who knows, maybe life is good because I woke up today. 

I knew there would be a point that I would accept that I was old and there was nothing I could do to turn back the clock.  I mean, I see old people walking around every day, some even smiling.  They don't all seem like they're one rice krispy short of a treat.  So I figured they must have learned to accept the fact that they got old.  After all, everyone either gets old or they don't.  No one stays young forever.  Yes, I'm just happy to be alive.

Courage to Change

(When I first sat down to write this entry, I was in a much darker mood.   While I still feel that I'm under a heavy cloud, it doesn't seem quite as ominous.  I should have changed the tone of what's written below, but my lack of motivation is pretty widespread.  Besides, I really just wanted another chance to talk about my wonderful mother.)


As I sit here on the eve of my 52nd birthday contemplating the changes I need to make in my life, my thoughts turn to my mother and what a remarkable woman she was.  I previously wrote about her on her birthday, but even then I don't think I realized just how courageous she had been.

One afternoon when I was in my early 20's, I received an unexpected phone call from my mother.  She was in a nearby town and asked if I could please come down and pick her up.  My mother didn't drive and rarely asked for help, especially if she thought it would inconvenience someone.  But after suffering through an unhappy marriage for more than 20 years, and since her youngest child was nearing adolescence, she had finally decided to file for divorce.  She had actually walked the 10 or so miles to the county seat to file the paperwork, and now as the day wore on she needed a ride back home.  (Looking back, I think she realized she couldn't get back on her own in time to meet my youngest sister when she got home from school.  Otherwise, knowing her, I believe she would have found the energy to make the trip home without asking for help from anyone.)

Most days I can barely find the motivation to drive to the grocery store.  I can't begin to imagine walking 10 miles to a town I'm not familiar with.  And the idea of doing something that would drastically change my life scares me beyond words.  Maybe it was the desperation that pushed Mama forward.  Or perhaps she was simply the bravest woman I'll ever know.

I'm sure my mother thought I would be angry with the decision she made that day.  I wasn't.  As much as I loved my father, I knew the suffering my mother had endured.  I had been wanting her to find happiness, or at least some peace, for many years.  Her childhood alone had been filled with enough difficulty to last a lifetime.  Unfortunately, pain would follow her for the remainder of her life.  But until today, I had never given much thought as to the courage it took for her to wake up and make a choice that would change her life forever.

Mama, I wish you were here to guide me through these difficult days.  You could always make me feel better.  Maybe you wouldn't have an answer for me.  But I'm certain you would give me the strength to find it for myself.

It's Halloween All Over My House...

...and I've been preparing for ages!  Okay, more accurately I've prepared for this day by doing nothing.  In anticipation of the holiday, I've let the spiders spin their webs undisturbed outside every window and door. Inside every surface is covered in dust, giving my home an eerie, abandoned look.   It's frightful.

Just as some people leave their Christmas lights up well into the new year, I think I'll leave my decorations as they are.  If anyone asks, I'll insist that I'm just getting a head start on next year.

Happy Halloween!