Summer Survival Blog, Day 2

With the warmer weather, comes the compulsion to garden. Even in our age of email, laser surgery, and microwaved gas station burritos, there is a primal need in us to harvest and gather like that which drove our earliest ancestors. The desire to reap what you sow. And in my case, it's simply the inclination to stick a few plants in the ground to see if I can nurture them enough to keep them from whithering away.

I am not a gardener. I desperately WANT to be a gardener, but I seem to have a really difficult time keeping green things alive. I think it has something to do with giving them water. As in, that you NEED to give them water. And over the years, through some trial and error, I've started to get the hang of the most basic gardening principles. So it's a matter of pride that I've actually managed to construct a gorgeous flower bed in my front yard this year. When we moved in it was a horrendously messy tangle of weeds, grass, and overgrown shrubs. Once I pulled out a waist-high bush only to realize that once upon a time, it had been an oregano plant. I completely tore the entire area apart and started from scratch. And if I do say so myself, it looks beautiful. I am so freakin' proud of it.

High on the success of my flowerbed, I moved on to rehabbing the corner of our yard. I so full of myself after my flowerbed triumph that I decided to bypass the novice marigolds for this overly sunny spot and I dove headfirst into the challenge of maintaining a rose bush.

My tiny rosebush beckoned to me one afternoon while I was at Bi-Mart. I was picking up mulch and vegetable seedlings. Mulch and vegetable seedlings are things that sensible people buy when they realize that they are not gardening material. Vegetable seedlings are cheap, so if (when?) they die, you can just bury the cracker-dry evidence in your garbage can, buy another ten seedlings, and pretend it never happened.......not that I would know. And mulch has the advantage of not being alive. Bonus.

So there I was with my red pepper plants, perky tomato starters, and cucumber babies. And something about that little rose bush by the register called my name. "You can dooooo this" it beckoned me. "Take me hooooome" it implored. And being the tenderhearted wannabe gardener that I am, I gave in. Besides, I figured that it couldn't be any harder to hide a cracker-dry rose bush in the garbage than it is to hide a few kindling-like tomatoes......again, not that I would know.

So just like that, I had a rose bush.

I get that for some people, this isn't a big deal. It shouldn't even be a big deal for ME - after all, I have managed to keep three kids, three cats, two dogs, and a husband alive. But as my girlfriend Charlotte points out, those are all things that squawk if not fed and watered regularly. Plants just look more and more sad while they droop away, glaring at you balefully. So keeping a rose bush alive will be a challenge unlike any other I've taken on in my short career as a green thumb. And in an effort to make myself more accountable, I'm showing all of you my tiny fledgling rosebush, as it appears on our second day of summer break. In about two months, I'll take another picture of it so that we can compare.

Hopefully, it will still be there.

Summer, Day Two

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Currently Reading: Nineteen Minutes, Jody Picoult

Summer Survival Blog, Day 1

I officially have a second grader.

Now that is some scary stuff my friends. Banana finished out her school year with flying colors. We continue to be thrilled with our choice to send her to the charter school fifteen miles down the road - along with being one of the best schools in the state, they also recently won an award for fostering healthy eating and good nutrition. We also enjoyed the spring performance, complete with healthy renditions of "High Hopes" and "Hey Good Lookin'" among others. There is nothing like 142 elementary school kids singing their hearts out...at the top of their lungs.

Banana had a fabulous last day of school. Along with the fact that the entire summer loomed ahead of her, she was also celebrating her seventh birthday. My big girl is SEVEN. It's hard to believe. And when your birthday is on the last day of school, what do you do? You buy Popsicles for the whole dang school of course! And then they all sing happy birthday to you in between the end of the year assembly and the games on the playground! And I've got to say, I didn't know that 180 Popsicles could disappear so quickly! That brings me to today's picture:

Summer, Day One

Other cool last-day-of-school-birthday-celebration-extravaganza-events included the school family BBQ, feeding the baby cows that someone brought by, and riding the horses that another family trucked over.

You've got to love raising your kids in Oregon.

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Currently Reading: By the Light of the Moon, Dean Koontz

And so it begins....

It's official. My kids are on Summer break. From now until early September, we're all stuck with each other without the respite of preschool or Banana's eight hour school day. There's no more running to the bus at 6:08 a.m. No more homework. No more remembering to send in a check for lunch money. No more preschool tuition. No more snack helper.

It's just us.

I am determined to make it a good summer. Like everyone else, we are watching our pennies and riding out the economy so we're going to get creative. We have lots of plans, including the park, the pool, the river, and a big dose of old fashioned Oregon exploration. We're going to take a few road trips. We've got some company coming. We're going to BBQ and make s'mores and have fun. We want to take the dogs to the beach. We want to visit the zoo. We're going to try not to melt when the Oregon heat hits 110 in the Gorge and we're going to hang out with friends.

I will try not to kill my kids. Hopefully we won't be climbing the walls by the fourth of July.

The key to this summer's success is SCHEDULING. I've been scouring the newspaper for free activities and cheap goings-on around town and we're loading up to the hilt on art classes, plays in the park, and anything else we can find. The kids are gearing up for summer reading through our local library, and I'm going to get on board by keeping track of what I read all summer long. Skippy and I both love to read and this past school year a switch has clicked inside Banana's head so we're going to hunker down on hot afternoons and practice our bookworm impressions. I also want to take lots of pictures of what I hope will be our many adventures. I started my blog in part to stay in touch with our friends and family back in sweet home Chicago and I'd like to reconnect with that a little bit by doing what I can to show you more of our world out here in the Pacific Northwest. So look for my version of Project 365, the Summer edition, where I am going to try to take at least one picture a day, from our last day of school to our first day in the Fall. The key word of course, is try.

We'll see how it all goes! Happy Summering!

More fun with coupons

A few months ago, I put up a blog detailing a recent trip to Safeway and all of the mad crazy cash I saved using coupons.  Admittedly, it wasn't all wholesome crunchy granola all organic fare.  But here's the thing - I make a serious effort to put a healthy dinner on the table every night.  There is always fruit in my house and the minions know that they can have a piece whenever they want without asking.  If all else fails, we always have milk, bread, eggs, and cheese or I can toss together a PB&J.  And being a novice Weight Watchers slave, I'm eating a lot of salad.  Although we have our fair share of junk in the house, I really do make an effort to feed my family well.  

The bottom line is this:  I'm no chef.  But I do what I can and I do my best.  And kids are expensive and you have to feed them.  Constantly.  So when I can grab snacks on sale and sock them away for weekends, car rides, and summer break, you bet your sweet buns I do it.   And if I can stockpile stuff that won't spoil and rest assured that when a jar of applesauce runs out, I know that I already have more on hand, well....that makes me happy.  I'm easy to please like that.

Which brings me to my most recent Safeway Adventure:  Last Night I Went to Safeway, And All I Spent Was a Dollar Twenty Four.

And I bought:

1 bottle of Kraft Zesty Italian Salad Dressing

1 bottle of Light Asian Sesame Salad Dressing

1 bottle of Catalina Salad Dressing (my kids love it)

All three bottles of salad dressing cost me about fifty cents, total.

THEN I bought a box of Reduced Fat Wheat Thins and a box of Reduced Fat Ritz Crackers for kids' snacks and for my Weight Watchers carb attacks.  I had a BOGO coupon, plus the crackers were on sale.  

After THAT, I got two bottles of Vitamin Water, because it's sweet crack that's almost as good as regular soda.  They were on sale for eighty eight cents and I had coupons for a dollar off.  So THOSE cost me negative 12 cents.

And finally, I bought my kids a box of Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies.  They have gotten hooked on them through softball and I don't mind buying them because I don't eat them.  They were a whopping ninety nine cents with a coupon.

So to sum it all up:

My total before savings was $23.90 and after my club card and my coupons, I spent $1.24 for a total savings of ninety five percent!!

My beloved coupon mentor Laura stood beside me while I completed my purchase and I swear that just for a second, I saw a lone tear of joy.

Anyway....

Were my purchases enough to make a six course meal for a twelve person dinner party?  Of course not.  But I stocked up on salad dressing, bought the kids some snacks, and got a happy Vitamin Water fix for next to nothing.  And when you live in a small town in the middle of nowhere, you have to find your fun wherever you can!

My life is a zoo? No we WENT to the zoo!

Sometimes you just have to throw good old fashioned frugality to the wind and do something fun with your kids.  You know?  And this past Memorial Day weekend, we did just that.

Friday morning I was chatting online with Skippy.  This isn't unusual - we ping back and forth throughout the day.  What was somewhat out of the ordinary was that he was pinging me from Atlanta.  He had been there throughout the week doing whatever Googly things he does, and the kids and I had been holding down the fort at home.  I for one, was holding it by the skin of my teeth.  It had been a l-o-n-g week.  Between softball games, preschool graduation, and the first round of ninety degree temperatures, I was done flying solo and ready for my husband to be back in the same time zone.

So imagine my delight when we agreed to wing things a bit.  I booked a hotel near PDX for Friday night, tossed a handful of clean little girl undies, diapers, and swim suits into an overnight bag, buckled in three wound up kidlets, and hit the road to Portland.  Skippy's flight was due to arrive somewhere between 10:30 and 11:00 that night and that left us plenty of time to hit the golden arches, conquer the play place, check into our hotel, exclaim over the itty bitty bottles of shampoo, flip through all fourteen TV channels three times, contemplate the meaning behind the door that joined us to another room, change into swim suits, and paddle around in the pool for an hour. 

  

When we returned dripping wet to our room around 9:30, the girls enjoyed the novelty of HBO and a queen size sofa sleeper (Mom!!  There is a BED in the COUCH! SWEET!).   We went on a safari-style hunt for the ice machine, made microwave popcorn, changed into jammies, and had ourselves a regular old slumber party.  Finally, they all passed out - Chunk sprawled in his pack and play, Kbear wrapped snugly in her blanket on the sofa sleeper, and Banana ....."camping out" under the hotel desk.   Skippy snuck in around 12:30 amidst three snoring kiddos and promptly crashed in an effort to sleep off a full day of travelling.  

Now at this point, I must say a quick word about hotel drapes.  They are wonderful and amazing and I totally want to rig up some sort of high tech pulley system that will allow me to cover my whole house with them this summer.  Why, you may ask?  Because those beautiful light-blocking pieces of heavenly fabric kept the room so dark that my children slept until after eight o'clock Saturday morning.

Be still my heart.

Then we three girls decided to let my two favorite boys sleep in for a little while longer and we trooped down to the buffet room for our complimentary breakfast.  We put down cereal, waffles, bananas, and in Bree's case, a whole half of a grapefruit before we made our way back to our room loaded down with biscuits and gravy for Daddy, and half of a peanut butter sandwich and fruit for Chunk.  While the boys ate and watched TV in their underwear in the big hotel bed, I took the girls for one last dunk in the pool.  We requested a late checkout, relaxed, packed up, and finally headed for the zoo around one o'clock.  

The zoo was....well it was a zoo.  For one thing, the weather was absolutely spectacular with cloudless blue skies and sunny seventy degree temperatures.  And it was a Saturday.  And Memorial Day Weekend.  And families were out in droves.  But we scored a great parking spot, wrestled Chunk into his stroller, and went in search of our first exhibit, Samundra the baby elephant - affectionately referred to as Sam by many Oregonians.  It was by far the busiest exhibit, but totally worth the wait.  Skippy (being as tall as he is) got some awesome pictures:

 

And after that we just had more fun.  We saw the bats, penguins, sea lions, zebras, giraffes, ducks, eagles, sun bears, polar bears, birds, meerkats, and who knows what else.   And although the baby elephant definitely stole the day, we also say my favorite, the black bears (who were sleeping in a big old furry pile) and Skippy's favorite, the otters.  By the time we finally wandered towards the gate it was coming up on five o'clock so we treated ourselves to dinner out and then finally drove our separate vehicles back through the Gorge, until we were home sweet home to a slightly stuffy house and two very happy dogs.

And what did I learn from our mini-weekend trip?  Sometimes, you just gotta let it all go and have some fun.

Pomp and Preschoolers

It's official folks.  My little girl is finished with preschool.  Her last summer of freedom has officially been kicked off before she trots off to Kindergarten in the fall with the big kids.

Last night we all gathered under the picnic shelter at Sorosis Park here in town (I know the name is weird, I recently learned that it has something to do with the cherry processing process....more info to come soon after some google searches) and we watched our adorable kiddos don their adorable tasselled caps and receive their awards for their successful completion of preschool.  Each solemn child accepted his or her "diploma" with huge smiles to lots of applause and flashing cameras.  Then we all enjoyed cupcakes and hugs and played at the park because really, what else would you do after a graduation ceremony?

Kbear was also the recipient of the "Leadership Award."  And not for her stellar good Samaritan ways....not for her upstanding citizen-like behavior....but because (according to Teacher Mary) "the rest of the children would follow her anywhere.  She could lead a mutiny."

That's my girl.

The post Mother's Day blog

First, the sap.

On June 10, 2002, after eighteen hours of labor, my Banana baby came into the world.  The second they announced, "here she is!" I burst into tears while still up in stirrups.  She was beautiful and perfect and had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.  She transformed my life and took me from "Amy" to "Mommy" and I have never looked back.

Just seventeen months later, on November 18, 2003 Kbear came shooting into the world.  She was my drug free birth, but I don't hold that against her.  From the moment she opened her eyes, she had the entire nursing staff cooing over her gorgeous curly hair.  She officially made me the mother of two.  

And two years ago, on March 29, 2007 my Oregon baby was born.  Chunk was the hardest labor, and to me he represents everything we have worked for here in Oregon.  I was pregnant when we undertook one of the biggest transitions of my life, and when he came into the world out here in the Pacific Northwest, I really felt like my family in Oregon was complete.  I cannot begin to imagine my life without him.  He made me the mother of a son and he is a little dose of sunshine in every day.

So there you go.  My three sappy beautiful Mother's Day blessings.  

Now, on to business.

You probably noticed it already....there are no lists posted on my blog.  Nothing singing my many praises.  No warm fuzzy feelings.

You may be wondering if my husband is lying somewhere in the fetal position, missing various important pieces of vital anatomy.  But he's not.  I promise.  In fact, he's completely off the hook at least for another year.  Here's why:

First of all, he let me sleep in.  I slept in until TEN O'CLOCK completely uninterrupted.  This never happens.  Even when you're "on vacation" (aka in the hospital after birthing yet another baby) you don't get that much uninterrupted sleep because someone is always coming in to check on you or take your blood pressure.  So for that alone, I love him and he rocks.

But then he made breakfast.  Fresh strawberries, coffee cake, bacon, and icy cold mimosas.  Can you say total yummy?  While we ate, I read the six cards that the kids made for me.  I only have three kids (and one can't write yet) but I got six cards.  How totally special is that?

Then I got to lay around on the couch for awhile.  I watched the Cubs game in my pajamas.  And wonderful smells started coming out of the kitchen.  Lo and behold, for dinner we had from-scratch chicken Parmesan with from-scratch spaghetti sauce.  Warm bread, salad, and raspberry brownies completed the trip to my happy place.  

AND, he and the kids gave me the Magic Bullet blender, which I have wanted FOREVER.  I've been having a serious amount of fun with it already, including making Chunk a smoothie with his breakfast,  As a bonus, according to my math if I make 13 more blendy coffee drinks, it will have paid for itself!

So between not giving him enough notice for compiling a laundry list of my many fine and lovable attributes and the fact that we didn't get home until 1:30 in the morning after my sister-in-law's 50th surprise party on Saturday night, I think I can safely let him off the hook.

You hear that honey?  You're in the clear.

But that being said, I kind of WAS looking forward to reading what the kids came up with.  So next year I want those lists.  And don't say I didn't give you enough notice.

I love you, thank you for a wonderful day!

An open letter to my family.....

In light of the current economic situation sweeping the globe, I have decided to cut back on my gift requests for this year's Mother's Day.  I am kind and considerate like that, and sometimes I like to torture my husband, so this hits two birds with one stone.

First, I would like free reign regarding buying my garden supplies so that I can get my cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and spices into the ground, fenced, and watered this weekend in an effort to have a more self-sustaining summer.  I foresee lots of salads and salsa.

Second, I would like my husband and my kids to each write me a list - ten things that they love about Mommy.  After coming in second for a job opportunity that I wanted quite badly, Mama needs her ego stroked, so hop to it beloved family members.  Help from Daddy is allowed.  Help from the dog is not.

It's out on the blog, folks.  Don't let me down!  Lists will be posted on Sunday so make 'em good!

Cell Block W

So my resolution to blog more frequently lasted......a whole day.  Call me a failure if you must, but I prefer to just think of myself as insanely busy - although doing what I'm not sure.It's been a combination of mom stuff and wife stuff and Amy stuff and eating pretzels reading crappy books stuff.  But I've been busy.  Trust me.  Just go with it.

My gut tells me that the right thing to do would be to sit here and type out a massive missive that details every little moment of life in the W house over the last several weeks, from the significance of Chunk's second birthday to the insignificance of the fulfilling fact that Skippy and I finally produced a functional playroom for our children over the weekend.  It has neat foam mats and storage bins galore and more crayons than you can shake a stick at and it smells like lemon scented wood floor polish....but I digress.  

It's late and tomorrow we have our first official softball game (after the unfortunate weather cancelled the "softball jamboree" over the weekend, much to our overwhelming dismay) so instead I'll just tell you about my new parenting foray, otherwise known as "Reason 674 that my children will someday tell their significant others how I scarred them for life at a young age."  The focus of this life lesson: My kitchen sink.

I'd be willing to bet that a vast number of my fellow mommies can sympathize.  Dishes accumulate in my kitchen sink the way rabbits pile up under a farmhouse porch.  Overnight they simply seem to multiply.  No one seems to know where they came from, and no one but me seems to know how to get rid of them, which in either situation usually involves a thorough soaking with a water hose of some sort, a copious amount of sweat, and some very unladylike cursing.

My children apparently need a cup for milk.  And then a new cup for water.  And then a cup for juice.  Quickly followed by a cup to use with dinner.  Almost always without exception, this wide variety of cups are happily married with their own separate cereal bowls, PB&J plates, and assorted dinnerware.  And naturally, my house is sadly lacking a dishwasher.    Or to be more specific, my house lacks a dishwasher that isn't a sucker for romance novels, dark chocolate, and isn't named Amy.  

So a few days ago while standing at my kitchen sink (yet again), looking out my window at the beautiful Friday afternoon (yet again), and searching for the last sippy cup while up to my elbows in soapy water (yet again) I was quietly lamenting this sorry state of affairs to myself.   And somewhere in between shaking my tush to the radio and cursing because yet another pair of sexy yellow rubber gloves had gotten yet another f*&%$ing hole in them, I decided I was done washing mini tableware for awhile.

A trip to the dollar store was in order, quickly followed by a stop at my favorite thrift store.  And when I returned, I was armed for battle.  With a sharpie marker, I drew a bold "B" and "K" on my newly acquired purchases, and then I stepped back to admire my handiwork.  My girls were now the proud new owners of ONE new plate, ONE new bowl, and ONE new cup, color coded to avoid any possible confusion.  This was followed by even more drastic action: after I set aside a few things that Chunk would need and I relocated the remainder of our kid friendly dishes to a top secret location, guarded by the three headed dog from Harry Potter and accessible only after a retina scan and a blood sample.  

Okay, actually I moved them down to the back of the bottom cabinet, but who's going to tell my kids that, right?

And thus began Operation Cut Down On Dishes.  

At first, the girls were thrilled with their new fancy dinner duds...until I dropped the bomb.

These were to be their ONLY dinner duds.  For that matter, they were also the only breakfast duds.  And lunch duds.  And sna....you get the idea.  And not only were dishes suddenly in short supply, but Mom was being relieved of her dish washing duties for anyone under the age of 30 and over the age of two.  So in other words, if you want to eat off of it, you'd better wash it your damn self.

One bowl.  One plate.  One cup.  And a step stool to make the sink more easily accessible.

My mother hooted in semi-amusement over the phone later that night.  She told me I was mean - what's worse, she compared the situation to PRISON.  Apparently it's next to criminal to expect an almost seven year old and a five year old to (at least temporarily) wash their own dishes and to be completely responsible for keeping track of them in between meals.  You'd think I was only issuing bread and water on such meager eating receptacles, she made me feel so mean.

But then I remembered how it feels to scrub at a forgotten bowl of oatmeal, or to track down some one's brand new softball water bottle under the desk....with milk in it....from two days ago.  And I decided that I could handle being mean.  Mistress of the sippy cups I would be no more.

Just call me Warden.

Stay tuned, now that the playroom/computer room is clean I hope to be in here a whole lot more - it's hard to relax and blog when a mess is staring you down!  With any luck, I'll be able to check in tomorrow after the girls' first softball game!

Blogging resolution, take one....

Well as I suspected, today was a pretty uneventful day.  I had a monster migraine last night so Skippy ran Banana to the bus at 6:08 this morning and I slept until 7:30 when it was time to get the Kbear to preschool.  If you talk to K, make sure you ask her about the new song she learned today "honk honk beep beep" during music time.  It comes complete with hand motions and it's a hoot.

The Chunker was at home sleeping in with Daddy so I took advantage of the child free moments to grab coffee and some miscellaneous groceries before heading back home to procrastinate my housecleaning.  Skippy has been home for the last few days basically feeling like dog poop - we are fairly certain that yet another back surgery is in the near future.  And while I hate that he feels yucky, he seriously throws off my mommy mojo when he's home.  Basically, I don't feel like doing squat.

All in all, it was a pretty quiet day.  I made spaghetti (and totally cheated with a jar of Prego sauce, so sue me), took the girls to youth group, and just got home from having pie with one of my favorite girlfriends Laura.  It's almost eleven and once again I have failed in my attempts to go to bed like a normal grown up adult, but there's always tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, I am taking a written test at 9a.m. for a job I applied for in town - it's the first job I've seen since moving here that actually has me excited about the idea of working outside of the house again and I really hope that I have a shot at it.  So cross your fingers and say a prayer - we'll see how it goes!

Recaps of both the Chunk's second birthday, spring break, and Easter are all coming soon!  For now, I need some sleep.

And.....I'm back

So after my husband's attempted hijack of my blog (and by the way, I find it highly insulting that you all gave HIM more comments than I typically get) I am making a determined effort to reclaim my blogging mojo.

To be honest, I haven't been on as much because I just feel like life isn't that interesting these days.  We do the school bus run, make macaroni and cheese, and read stories at bedtime.  Sometimes I shake things up and I go grocery shopping in my birks....with socks on.

So I'm going to really try to sit down every day for the next week to see if I can figure out EXACTLY where all of my time is really going.  Maybe I'll just type a quick snippet that says that I made grilled cheeses for lunch, picked up dog poop in the yard, and got bit while brushing the baby's teeth.

But dammit, it will be a blog entry.

See ya tomorrow!

Hijacking: The Great "Facial Tissue" Fiasco

(Disclaimer: This blog post is a hijacking, something I've wanted to do for a while, but hey, I feel it's time, and this is a justified topic. All opinions expressed in this post are those of the blogger's husband, and not those of the blogger, even if they should be because it's bloody common sense in this case)

There are certain things in life that just matter. They just do, it's a fact of life.

If you prefer a certain kind of car, for whatever reason, you are more than likely going to keep choosing that model or brand of car. It's what you like so you roll with it.

If you like foam pillows (for whatever misguided reasons you might have), you probably won't be able to deal with feather or down pillows, no matter how unbelievably comfortable they might be.

You might have a favorite type of ketchup, or mustard, or some other random condiment that you favor over another, and if push comes to shove and what you want isn't available, sure you might sink to the depths of depravity and use what's there, but that doesn't mean you have to like it, and can't sit there wanting your preference to be nearby.

So we come to the crux of our current fiasco. In addition to the sinus infection from Hell that won't go away, now my nose is running and I've caught some evil bug to make my life slightly more miserable (hopefully short-lived), and I'm at work. Google is fantastic, I love it here, but we have one greatly lacking amenity.

Our Kleenex (or "facial tissue" to be specific in this case") sucks.

Now, if you've never had the pleasure, and I use that word very lightly, of having to blow your nose into these things, well, you aren't missing much. It's like rubbing some 100-grit on your already distressed nose. It's not fun. Imagine the "toilet tissue" in a porta-potty at some big festival, and blowing your nose with it. That's what you get when you pull a Surpass brand "facial tissue" from it's evil demonic nondescript beige box of torture and press it to your face. It's just wrong. You are probably thinking to yourself, "Surpass? I've never heard of those before." These lovelies are a product of Kimberly-Clark Professional, and can be found via a quick web search where you also find they are made from at least "10% recycled consumer products", my guess is that 10% is directly from defective pads of 3M sandpaper, but I might be wrong.

I expressed my utter displeasure with the Surpass brand "facial tissue" to my wife, and she MOCKS me for my family's undying preference to Puffs tissues. Is wanting something that doesn't feel like sandpaper against my nose such a bad thing in all honesty? Is having a preferential brand of anything so horrible that one would be mocked as whining? Can't a man want a stupid specific type of facial tissue (normal Puffs, no lotion, those are just slimy and vile). I think not.

So tomorrow, if the Great Sinus Flood of March '09 has not stopped already, there will be a box of plain old Puffs tissues on my desk and I can banish the Surpass back to the depth of whatever Hell they originated from. I'm sure my wife will continue to brand me a whiny $@%*&, but I say good riddance.

Spring Break Survival Log: Days 1 - 4

Last Friday was the official start of Spring Break for the entire state of Oregon. From the coast to the eastern desert region, kids young and old spilled out of schoolyards, tumbled off of buses, and sprinted home full of delight and thrilled that they were FREEEEEE...at least temporarily.

And so began Mommy Survival Boot Camp.

To be honest, for the most part Spring Break has gone off without a hitch. Unlike some (insane) people we know, we aren't going anywhere. We're boring like that. We're just hanging out at home. But that doesn't mean that I don't have to find a way to fill the endless hours with something other than Spongebob, The Wonderpets, and my personal favorite, Phineas and Ferb. So we have endeavored to keep busy.

After a blissfully uneventful Saturday, my little campers were getting restless by Sunday afternoon. So while my little guy AND my big guy napped the last of the daylight away, Banana and Kbear suited up and we drove to the gym for a swim.

Thus began the "Swimming With Wildlife" chapter of our Spring Break Extravaganza.

The girls were having a blast jumping, splashing, and paddling around in the shallow end of the pool while I relaxed in a comfy padded chair at the water's edge. Banana was showing off her newly acquired skills from two weeks of school swimming lessons (have I ever mentioned how much I love her school?) and floating on her back like a pro and Kbear was being incredibly brave and actually venturing off of the steps past the waist level with the assistance of her Nana-purchased-super-cool-Speedo arm floaties.

And then it happened.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a middle aged man (maybe early fifties) enter the pool area from the locker room. Being a Mom, I make it my business to be nosy and check out anyone who enters the vicinity of my kids, but I have to admit that more than typical overbearing mommy protectiveness, what really caught my eye was the fact that this dude had the single most hairy set of legs I've ever seen. It was genuinely incredible.

So Mr. Hairy Legs wades into the pool and as he passes by where I'm sitting, I note that the poor dude's follicle issues don't just concern his lower extremities. This guy was FURRY.

Now before I should go on, I feel the need to make a quick point. I'm not making fun of the guy. I'm REALLY not. I get it - some guys get old, and they get hairy. It grows in their ears, it grows on their chests, etc etc. I GET IT. And I'm sure that it takes a hell of a lot of courage (and possibly several years of therapy) to go swimming or to walk around sans shirt when you practically have a pelt. MY POINT is that although *I* understand that these things happen, I have two incredibly precocious, curious, LOUD little girls who are prone to asking embarrassing questions at extremely inopportune times.

It was about this time that I noticed Kbear. She had stopped her wading and was paused mid-float on the steps.....staring. She was utterly fascinated by our overly-insulated swimming companion. She watched him intently, worrying her lower lip with her teeth the way she does when she's really concentrating. And that's when I started to pray.

"Please-don't-let-her-say-anything-please-don't-let-her-say-anything-please-don't-let-her-ask-questions-please-don't-let-her-ask-HIM-why-he's-got-so-much-hair-please-parenting-gods-and-goddesses-don't-let-my-precious-princess-open-her-mouth."

Thankfully, the moment passed uneventfully. I was safe from true mortification and thankfully, so was everyone else in the pool. However, it was soon after that key moment that I decided it was time to hit the showers and head home. I wasn't about to push my luck with Fate.

Monday was a whirlwind of sidewalk chalk and lunch at McDonald's with my friends Charlotte and Laura and all of our assorted children in what had to be the most crowded and noisy play place on the planet. Two Excedrin migraine later, we met up with my mother-in-law and my sweethearts of a niece and nephew after dinner for ice cream at dairy queen, where Chunk appointed himself the dessert sampler and proceeded to check the quality of every one's orders.

Today was (thankfully) a down day. The kids all slept in. We had a late breakfast and did some crafts until my mother-in-law volunteered to pick up the girls for dinner at her place with their cousins. It's been a wonderfully quiet afternoon and I got my kitchen cleaned without anyone coming in for a snack five minutes after the last clean dish was dried and put away.

We've still got a lot planned. I promised the girls some time with their Girl Gourmet Cupcake Maker, we're going to hit the park, do some more crafts, play with some more chalk, take over the library, and last but not least, celebrate a certain young Chunker's SECOND BIRTHDAY this weekend.

How fast it flies! Let the Spring Break Survival continue!

Mama, she's a QUEEN!

You've got to love small town living sometimes.

On Sunday night, Skippy and I decided to say the hell with cooking. Everyone was recovering from colds, and I hadn't taken anything out of the freezer so we decided to chuck responsibility out the window and go out for pizza. We invited my mother-in-law Dixie with us and then headed over to pick up her along with Banana and Kbear, who had spent an afternoon playing blissfully at Grammy's house. Then we headed across town to Spooky's.

Having grown up in suburban Chicago, I am super picky about my pizza. Just any old pizza will not do. Unfortunately, oftentimes in many Oregon towns if you ask the locals where the best pizza place is, they will point you to Domino's in one direction, and Pizza Hut in another. Not many options abound. It is a sad sorry state of affairs.

However here in our own little bit of the middle of nowhere, we are 'lucky' enough to have Spooky's. Spooky's is our local pizza joint that specializes in locally brewed beer, insanely over-priced pizza, and a variety of sandwiches. They have a big screen TV for watching sports, a small arcade for the kids, and various temporary tattoo and lead-based toy machines that will dispense anything to you for a quarter. Last but not least is the giant moose head mounted in the doorway that oversees all of the proceedings. The killer fries make up for the moose head.

And let's face it...beggars can't be choosers.

So we get settled at our table and Skippy heads off to order way too much food for way too much money and the girls run off to the arcade while Dixie and I try to strap Chunk into his highchair. The place is hopping busy on a Sunday night and I'm people watching the long line leading up to the counter when a young lady catches my eye.

First of all, there's something about the way she's holding herself. Very confident, full of smiles and laughter. Her hair frames her face in big fluffy curls and her makeup is perfectly applied. She has cowboy boots and a gorgeous black cowboy hat sits on her impecably done hair.

She is without a doubt one of our local rodeo princesses.

When we moved to Oregon, the rodeo culture was completely new to me. And I have to admit, I get just as much of a kick out of seeing these girls in the local parades as Banana and Kbear do. I'll also admit that I'm not completely up on the logistics of the competition but I know that it takes a lot of time and money and dedication to support those young ladies. When Banana and K see them in the Cherry Fest parade every year, they literally squeal with delight at the gorgeous horses carrying such pretty girls in crowns seated in beautiful flower festooned saddles.

And there was one, right in the middle of Spooky's.

Once our cheesy breadsticks arrived, Banana and Kbear came running from the arcade and I leaned across our table conspiratorily...

"Pssssssst.....girls. Look over at the next table.....I bet that's a rodeo princess."

Kbear's eyes grow huge, "Can we go talk to her?" she whispers.

We three grown ups chuckle indulgently and give them some conversation coaching and watch while Kbear brazenly walks up to interrupt the other table's dinner, Banana play acting shyness behind her every step of the way.

"Excuse me," K says politely as the young lady in the cowboy hat turns around, "but are you a princess?"

The girl flashes my girls a big smile. "Actually," she tells them confidingly "I'm a rodeo QUEEN."

The girls eyes get HUGE and they scurry back to our table, obviously overwhelmed into stunned silence by their discovery. A few minutes later, Miss Cowboy hat comes over to our table and takes a moment to crouch down so that she can talk to each of my girls, asking them their names and signing little cards with her picture for each of them.

Without a doubt, it was the highlight of my girls' weekend. They jabbered about it all through dinner and all the way home and Banana even insisted on taking her "autograph" to school with her the next day.

So thank you, Miss Wasco County Rodeo Queen Melissa. You were sweet and gracious and made my little girls' night!

Forgive me, people of the interwebs....

For I have sinned.

It has been....well it's been a long ass time since my last blog.

I've got to tell you, I'm not sure what happened. It's not that I haven't realized that I've fallen behind on my blogging, it's just that we've been busy. Really, insanely, constantly-on-the-go busy. But it's not as if we're busy doing anything that is fantastically interesting. Skippy goes to work. I do laundry. The girls go to school. Chunk says "Mama?" fourteen thousand times a day.

I mean really, contain your excitement people!

In a nutshell, everything is fine in the W house. Our third Oregon winter is hanging on a bit harder than in previous years, and we are all VERY ready for spring. Here's a quick rundown on the whole fam:

Chunk: Continues to be the coolest little boy ever born. He is a constant crack up. New words include "Hello" (pronounced "Heh-wo"), "funny," and the ever popular "I want cheese." He is also fond of grabbing his diaper and telling me "EWWWWWW" after a bodily function and we are gearing up for the great unknown: "POTTY TRAINING A BOY." I am kind of waiting for warmer weather...although why I don't know - it's not as if I'm going to turn him loose in the yard with a bare bum.

He is the busiest child I have every seen and scary-smart. He also has a keen sugar radar - a few weeks ago I had some chocolates hidden in my nightstand drawer. Chunk managed to sniff them out and promptly devoured them. I didn't realize this sad sad fact until I went to get one later that night....and found one wrapper and one half eaten raspberry fig newton that had been left as payment. Some would say at least he traded me something!

Chunker will be two in just a few short weeks! It's hard to believe.


Kbear is also being her normal self, which means she is a cuddly and sweet little monster who is incapable of sitting still. She is in her last few months of pre-school and every day she asks when she gets to start Kindergarten and ride the bus like a big girl. Honestly, I'm still not ready but I'm looking forward to having a great summer with her.

K is probably my most challenging child. She is trouble personified, but also sensitive and sweet. It's hard to chastise a monster who looks like a curly haired angel. She is addicted to hot chocolate from Starbucks and if I'm not careful she's going to put a serious dent in my already-meager coffee budget. She is also very excited to start softball in the spring, even though she has no idea what softball is. And she continues to eat more breakfast than the rest of us combined, before she grazes throughout the rest of her day.

She is sweet and friendly and she is going to make my life a living hell in ten years.


Banana is rockin' school and is doing very well. She is getting unbelievably tall and her hair is getting long. In the mornings I'll catch her brushing it in the bathroom and I am struck at how gorgeous she is. Bree is reading at a second grade level and is doing well in her new math group. She is in the drama club at school and her class is finishing up two week's worth of swimming lessons on Friday.

Banana continues to be my "little mama." She is generous and empathetic and completely over sensitive like her mother. She has developed a nice group of friends at her new school and I honestly think that moving her this year was one of the best things we could have done for her, even if the schedule is a bit of a challenge. I have a lot of opportunities to participate in her activities, from the field trip I accompanied her class on (we saw "Click Clack Moo" in Portland), to attending her "publishing party" to helping out at this Friday's sock hop. She is excelling in everything she takes on and I really feel proud of her.

Currently she is all about her MP3 player. Sometimes when she's walking around the house with her earphones on, I get a glimpse of my teenager in the making. She also LOVES to read - last night we started our first "big" chapter book, Black Beauty. Like K, she is looking forward to starting softball in the spring. Like K, she has no idea how to play. It should be fun.


Skippy continues to enjoy this job at Google. Recently we received his yearly bonus and I am happy to say that we are now officially OUT OF CREDIT CARD DEBT! It wasn't too bad to begin with, but it's nice to have it gone. Now we're tackling some other financial woes of the past and working on saving towards getting out of the rental Amy hates. We are also in the process of saying goodbye to his beloved Grand Prix. With our tax refund we purchased a used Durango that has NOT crunched three deer over its hood on the freeway. It will be sad to let the Pontiac go, but all things must end eventually.

Skippy's travel has been put mostly on hold and we are enjoying having him home. His sleep apnea is also slowly coming under control and he and I are both working on becoming healthy again. I forsee lots of bike rides in our future as the weather improves. We're also going to clean out the garage - something that if he didn't know before, he knows now since he reads my blog.

This weekend we might have a HOT and SEXY date - Banana's school is sponsoring a bingo night - how cute and pathetic are we?


And I guess that leaves me. I've been having some medical ups and downs lately and we are working towards bringing my migraines under control. I was also recently informed that my blood pressure is pretty much out of control so I've just started a new medicine, a beta blocker that will hopefully help with both the BP and the headaches. I've reconciled myself to the fact that I will most likely need some sort of medication for the rest of my life, but if that's the price I have to pay to not have a stroke in my thrities, then so be it. There are worse things in life. Yesterday I had an MRI that left me feeling very uneasy about tight closed in spaces and I'll be happy if I never have to have another one again.

Overall, I am healthy and happy. I'm working on shedding some pounds, working on getting the blood pressure thing on track, and working on sleeping like a normal mother of three instead of like a college kid. I am looking forward to spring and hoping that some of the visits we are discussing with friends and family will work out this year. I still love Oregon...in fact I've come to love it more and more with time and I feel like my family is building a wonderful life out here.

I'm also going to really work at the blog thing. Even if things aren't that exciting, it always feels good to sit down and bang something out on the keyboard.

Let's aim for twice a week for now, okay?

See you soon!

TOUCHDOWN!

Before I begin my Superbowl blog, I have to show off Skippy's gorgeous taco dip. Mostly, I'm posting it to torture all of my cousins, who say that a family get together isn't complete until Aunt Karen (my Mom) shows up with the taco dip. Skippy has taken her famous concoction with him to Oregon and it's just as big of a hit here as it is in the Midwest. So anyway, on with my blog.


Once a year, friends come together all across the country to celebrate a day of nachos, beer, and football. And the W family is no exception.

Yet another Superbowl Sunday has come and gone.

This year, Skippy and I revived an old tradition that we began in Illinois the year we got married and we threw our first Oregon Superbowl party. I spent the week cleaning my house, Skippy prepped food, and we had a ton of fun although admittedly I've got to say...that things have changed.

Our Chicago Superbowl party had really become a beast over time - we're talking upwards of 30 people jammed into our thirteen hundred square foot house, several cases of Corona, tubs overflowing with soda, and Skippy outside freezing his buns off at the grill making burgers and brats in the subzero Chicago February temperatures. Back in those days, we were the only insane people with kids so everyone came to us - and every year the party got bigger. When we moved in 2007 just weeks before the Bears played the big game, our friends were left homeless for the big day, and sadly they had to scramble to improvise new parties of their own. We caught an incredible amount of hell from everyone for not postponing our relocation just long enough to throw one last pigskin shin dig, but some things just aren't meant to be.

I miss that party. It was always a huge pain in the ass, but so much fun to throw.

So this year we renewed our Superbowl tradition, although I'd be lying if I said that things hadn't changed significantly since our last big football bash.

This year it was a smaller affair -- we invited three of our favorite families and all of their assorted kids...that's eight adults and nine kids in a very small house. We polished up the new 52 inch TV (that Skippy swears allows us to see each individual blade of grass on the field) and laid out a huge spread that included nachos, pulled pork, dip, chips, and rice krispie treats. Soda was chilled and I had an abundance of apple juice on hand. We were set.

At the last minute one family had to pull out due to a sick kiddo, causing us all to lament the fact that our lives now tend to revolve around the level of snot output from our children, but we persevered and pushed forward and really had a great day.

It wasn't the beer infused overcrowded loud noisy insane party of the past. After all of our guests had left for the evening, I read a text message from Seth back in the windy city, which simply stated "I always miss you the most on Superbowl Sunday." And it made me yearn for home. But honestly, in a completely new and different way I had just as much fun this year as I did all of those other years just hanging out with our friends here and with their munchkins. The food was rockin', the game was entertaining, and the commercials were a crack up.

As far as parties go, it was a good day...a touchdown so to speak.

Let's talk about my kids some more! Part Two: Kendall

Many many many blog posts ago (I have lost track of how long, my days are measured in Dora the Explorer episodes) I wrote a blog post dedicated to my firstborn child, my Banana. Since then, I've kind of forgotten about the other two...not the other two kids, but the other two blog posts about the other two kids. I figured it was no big deal, that eventually no one would remember anyway.

Wrong.

In recent weeks, more than one friend has asked when I'm going to finish up the whole blogging about each specific child thing. So while the Chunk eats goldfish crackers in Daddy's recliner (sorry honey) I figured I'd start drafting a missive that is centered solely around the cutest preschooler in the world, my Kbear.

Kbear was yet another surprise baby. Her sister was just nine months old when I found out that I was pregnant again. We told my parents the news after first stuffing them full of a fabulous Easter dinner, mostly because when people have a belly full of from-scratch scalloped potatoes, they are less likely to chase your husband with a crowbar when you tell them that he has knocked up their daughter for the second time in less than three years.

But honestly, we shouldn't have worried. They were completely delighted. My mother-in-law was completely delighted. Our friends just thought we were nuts. And while I was hanging over the toilet in the midst of morning sickness hell while Banana howled from her pack-and-play, I swore that I would never have sex again.


But when Kbear arrived, she was just about perfect, even down to the little "stork bites" she had on her back and tummy. He had the softest curly blond hair you'd ever seen. She was born at exactly two o'clock in the morning in the midst of an incredible raging midwest thunderstorm. Someday I'll tell you the whole story, but Skippy barely made it to the hospital in time, just as my water broke all over my poor labor nurse. It was a quick labor. It was my only natural labor, mostly because she just came way too quickly. I myself am a big fan of hospital drugs, but it wasn't to be.

Kbear arrived fast, and she's been on the go ever since. She is a ball of green eyed curly haired spitfire that just never stops.

My big concern for K is that we do everything we can to avoid "middle child syndrome." I'm a big believer in birth order characteristics. We do lots of things to make her feel like she's a cool cat. I tell her all the time that she is special because she is the only one in our family who gets to be both a big sister and a little sister. She is friendly, percocious, and smart as a whip. She is constantly pushing Banana away and trying to follow right behind her all at the same time. She will knock Chunk over in her rush to answer the door only to turn right around to cuddle with him on the couch for as long as he'll stand it.


If Banana is my generous and empathetic child, K is my hell-on-wheels kid. There is a saying that "Well behaved women rarely make history." If that's true, then someday my K will be legendary. But when all is said and done and hurricane Kbear finally decides to rest in calm waters, there was never a sweeter, more loving, warm and cuddly kid on the planet. She is bright, funny, kind, and makes friends wherever we go.

Banana is always going to be my "big girl" - that's what happens to the first kid. They will always seem bigger and more grown up than they really are. You have to watch it and constantly remind yourself that they are NOT the little adult you sometimes imagine. But K....K will always be my baby girl. This past fall she turned five and I swear it was like someone flipped a light on - I just can't believe how big she is getting.

In fact, I thought about it early this morning when Kbear and I made a mad dash to Fred Meyer before pre-school because she is today's designated "snack helper." Last night she told me she wanted to bring muffins. She ALWAYS wants to bring muffins. But Mommy was tired. Mommy had been on the go all day. And Mommy did not want to make muffins. I had hoped that when she woke up this morning, she would be content to grab two boxes of 100 calorie packs to trot off with, but no such luck.

So there we were in Fred Meyer at 7:40 this morning, buying muffins. Because honestly, I don't tell my kids no when it's something little like that - yeah the muffins cost four thousand times more than they would have if I had made them and yeah, her buddies probably won't even eat them, but I've learned that if you expect K to listen to "no" when it really matters, like "we don't try to open car doors when we're going down the freeway" then you need to pick your battles VERY carefully. And the battle of blueberry muffins was not one I was willing to wage.

Anyway, the muffins aren't the point. The point is that when we arrived at preschool, I received my monthly newsletter from K's teacher. Amongst notes about the upcoming Valentine's Day party and book orders is an invoice for the upcoming month of three days a week/three hours a day bliss. So as usual, while I am walking back to my van I am tallying up the coming month's bills and matching them up to paydays and thinking that it's awesome that we only have four more months of preschool to pay for and God, I will be SO glad when I don't have to shell out that extra eighty five dollars a month.....

I mean, won't I?

Um....................

All of a sudden I'm feeling kind of sick to my stomach.


Only four more months of preschool before it's time for summer. And only one more summer before it's time to send my K off to big kid school. She will be in Kindergarten in the fall. ALL DAY KINDERGARTEN. That means that from six fifteen in the morning until three fifteen in the afternoon, my girls will both be off learning and playing and having fun while Chunk and I hang at home. That means that my little monster that eats three packets of oatmeal while she watches Seasame Street will be gone all day. My thrift store girlfriend. My curly headed grocery store companion who never fails to remind me to buy cereal. She won't be all mine any more.

My little girl will be a big girl. And what on earth will I do then?

So I'm starting to make a list of activities for us to do this summer. Another big trip isn't in the cards this year, but damn it, we're going to have fun. I am feeling very quietly frantic about my little girl growing up, but I know that I'm going to do everything that I can to enjoy it.

Lucky number seven!

So in case you missed last year's soap opera in print, "The Story of Us" chronicles the ups and downs of the early "Skippy and Amy Days" and can be found beginning here:

http://freckledmama.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-story-time-again-wild-applause-part.html


Other than that, it's been another wonderful year of watching our children grow, conquering new challenges, and loving each other more and more!

Happy Anniversary Sweetie! I love you, and I am proud of you and our kids are the light of my life! Here's to us!

The quest to feed the family....

Now before all of you who have raised teenagers start in on me, let me just say this up front:

I know that it will only get worse as they grow.

Feeding a family on a budget is HARD. I really try to walk a fine line between all-local-all-organic-grown-by-hippies-food...and Burger King. My kids DO eat hot dogs, and I don't feel guilty about it. However, I make a pretty serious effort to also make plenty of meals that are healthy and well rounded, with plenty of fresh fruits and veggies. We almost always have a nice sit-down Sunday dinner, and we have lots of fun making big breakfasts on the weekends. Sugary cereal is a fairly big treat - Kbear once told my girlfriend Laura that "My Mom buys cereal that tastes like NOTHING!" but I do hand out the occasional Nutragrain bar on the way out the door to school.

So yeah, I'm far from perfect. I'm like a cross between Rachel Ray and Ronald McDonald most of the time.

Now shopping for a family of five and making food stretch can be a serious challenge. Skippy and I looked at our bank account recently and realized that we were "thirty dollaring ourselves to death" by running to the store fourteen times a week for just a few things here and there. There was no plan. If we wanted to grill, I went and bought steaks. If we wanted soup, I went and bought all the ingredients. No chicken? No problem - I went to the store! And half of the time, I'd come home and realize that I had the fixings for half a dozen meals already at my disposal.

It was ridiculous.

Thus began my quest to pare down my grocery habit. It started with a cash budget - now every Sunday I go to the ATM and withdraw my cash for the week (a fixed amount that Skippy and I agreed on) and then I treat myself to a fancy coffee and I pick up a few Sunday papers.

Then I go home, drink my coffee, make my list, and cut coupons. I try to plan the week around things that I already have in the kitchen, and things that are sale through the store fliers and the list that I get off of The Grocery Game. (www.thegrocerygame.com - use me as a referral if you ever give it a shot) I have managed to accumulate quite a stockpile of kitchen staples and we have a chest freezer that is slowly filling up with meat when I can find good quality on sale.

So I make my list. And then I shop.

We've been doing this for about six months now. Of course there are exceptions to the budget - holiday dinners, birthday parties, etc but for the most part, we stick to the rules.

This last Sunday I scored big time and had my best coupon bonanza yet. I was doing the happy dance in the damn check out line and even the cashier gave me a high five.

In fact, I'm so excited, I'm going to tell you what I bought and what I spent.

Ready?

1 six pack of Mott's All Natural Applesauce cups (had a coupon)

1 four pack of Dole diced pears for Banana's lunch (had a coupon)

2 bags of Tostitos Scoops to feed Skippy's salsa habit (had a coupon)

2 boxes of Quaker Simple Harvest Oatmeal (had coupons)

2 boxes of Captain Crunch - this is a BIG treat (had coupons)

2 boxes of Quaker Maple and Brown Sugar Instant Oatmeal (had coupons)

4 boxes of Special K Red Berries for me (had coupons, thank you Laura!)

1 bag of Chewy Chips Ahoy for lunches (had a coupon)

5 cans of Campbell's Tomato Soup (had a coupon)

5 cans of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup (had a coupon)

1 bottle of Triaminic Children's medicine (free with soup, plus had a coupon)

One bag of Ore Ida French Fries (on sale)

2 gallons of 1% milk (on sale)

1 container of cottage cheese (on sale)

1 loaf of whole wheat white bread (on sale)

1 Package of all beef hot dogs (on sale)

1 Pot Roast (on sale)

1 Small package of chicken breasts (on sale)

2 pounds of bananas

and 2 and 1/2 pounds of organic gala apples

Now keep in mind that this stuff will be added to things I have already at home that were also bought on sale - it's not like we're all eating nothing but tomato soup all week - when you combine my purchases with things I already have, we'll have at least one soup and grilled cheese night, one leftover night, one meatless night, and at least four other "good" dinners.

So before any type of savings (club card, coupons, promotions, etc) my total would have come to one hundred and twelve dollars and eighteen cents.

After my Safeway card, my coupons, and two in-store promotions, I spent thirty eight dollars and and ninety five cents.

I flippin' rock. Some healthy stuff, some treats. And not a box of Hamburger Helper to be seen!