Randomness

Resolution is Not a Four Letter Word…I Think.

Most people I know feel one of two ways about New Year’s Resolutions: they either love the concept and make them yearly, or they think resolutions are a waste of time because they set people up for failure. After the past couple of years, I can definitely say that I’m all for a resolution or two, but with a few caveats.

I think people often make resolutions that are either too vague (lose some weight…eventually), or too drastic (I’ll hit the gym 5 days a week and eat tofu) to ever be successful. Every year, I periodically fell into one of those two categories. I had some vague notion, but no genuine plan in place, or I went extremist with my resolution and set myself up for failure by implementing drastic and impossible-to-maintain lifestyle changes. Like I was ever going to eat dry chicken and brown rice three times a week…but anyway….

All that changed in 2009. That’s the year I decided to get less fat, and I actually devised a general, but not drastic plan to start on that goal. You can read about it here, and here , and here. Since that time, I’ve maintained the 55 pound weight loss…something even I didn’t think was possible. Don’t get me wrong, I can still put away some fajitas and margaritas like it’s going out of style, but my love of my skinny jeans reminds me that I have to make healthy choices sometimes too…For example, I have to counteract the gallon of crabmeat au gratin I scarfed down last night by enjoying a nice protein bar for lunch today.

Last year, I was determined that we would sell our house and move closer to work and the boys’ school. My 45 minute commute each way was driving me bonkers, and it was past time to leave our post-college starter home. Unlike years prior when my husband and I talked vaguely about this possibility, I devised a list and time-line to complete all the outstanding home improvement repairs and cosmetic sprucing. He probably wanted to strangle me by the end of January, but sure enough, we got it all done, put the house on the market and moved by April.

So, the moral of this story? I’ve had two successful years worth of New Year’s resolutions. Sure, they came after a decade of failures, but better late than never, I suppose. This year, my resolution is financial in nature. I have a definitive strategy for us to live a bit more frugally, save more, and create a financial cushion that will help down the road if we have any life/career changes or unexpected surprises. It’s a simple goal, but at the same time, it will be a challenge as well. My tendency to drag everyone out to eat after a bad day at work, rather than cook, is definitely a habit I need to break. And it sure wouldn’t hurt me to clip a coupon or two. Saving money, rather than buying that new digital SLR I want is certainly no fun, but that’s the reality of being a responsible, mature adult with long-term goals.

Did I mention maturity is overrated sometimes?

It’s a Conspiracy…

Just when the Danish Butter Cookies finally disappeared from my office, another Good Samaritan brought a plethora of Little Debbie Christmas Tree cakes.

I’m starting to feel like Gretel…someone is definitely trying to fatten me up. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.

We all know that Little Debbie is an evil witch. And I’m willing to bet her Christmas Tree cakes are laced with crack. Why else would I be unable to resist the power of her magic snack cakes?

Wanna bet who will be eating a salad for dinner tonight?

Handmade Christmas on the Cheap—Idea #4

If you are like me, your bank account is whimpering right about now.

So, it’s time for another cheap Christmas idea that you can crank out for under $10. Hand-embroidered dishtowels are a gift that will take a little time, but anyone can do it:

The supplies you need for these are:

  • a pack of flour-sack towels (which you can usually get for about $7 for a pack of three)
  • an iron-on embroidery design of your choice (Aunt Martha’s iron-on patterns run about $2 for a big, diverse sheet of designs that you could probably use for 5-7 towels)
  • Needles and various colors of embroidery floss, which are usually only 10 cents a skein
  • Obviously, you need an iron, but I’m going to assume you already have one
  • An embroidery hoop is helpful but not dire. You can pick up a small, plastic hoop for about $1

All these supplies are right next to each other at any Michaels, Hobby Lobby or JoAnne’s.

This towel was my first attempt at embroidery:

I ironed the design from the Aunt Martha’s pattern onto the towel (per package instructions), and then found embroidery instructions on the internet. If you Google embroidery stitches, you will find hundreds of diagrams, instructions and even videos demonstrating the basic stitches. I practiced the outline/stem stitch on a scrap piece of fabric until I felt pretty comfortable with it. If you are a total novice to all things needlework, I still think you would probably only need about 10 minutes of practice to master the basic outline/stem stitch.

Once I felt confident with the stitch, I simply stitched over the ironed-on pattern in whatever colors I wanted.

 

This towel is part of a set, and the patterns for all seven days of the week were included in the $2 Aunt Martha’s pattern package. So, basically, I got the designs for at least seven towels for $2.

Overall, I was able to make three towels for about $10. This project simply took a little time and effort to start, but the finished product was absolutely worth it. Also, once I mastered the initial technique, the project picked up speed and each towel has taken progressively less time as I become even more adept. By carrying this around with me in a bag, I am able to work on it while I am waiting at an office, watching TV with the kids and sitting through endless Cub Scout meetings.

If you too are feeling the financial stress of the holidays, a hand-embroidered towel may be a great way to cut costs, while still providing a unique gift from the heart.

Tuesday and I are Not Speaking Right Now

Me and Tuesday are not working out. In fact, I may write my congressman and encourage him to work for its’ removal from my week.

Nothing good happens on a Tuesday.

Nobody wakes up and thinks, “Thank goodness today is Tuesday!!”

I once saw a shirt that said, “After Monday and Tuesday, even the calendar says ‘WTF.'”

I thought that was clever.

Tuesdays should be the new casual day at offices, because inevitably, that is when all hell will break loose. No one can deal with loosened hell in high heels.

Instead of happy hour, restaurants should have happy Tuesday. Two-for-one margaritas would make any Tuesday better.

As you can see, the animosity between me and Tuesday grows unchecked.

It may be time to break out the big guns and raid the candy stash, because it’s only 1:00 PM, and I still got a whole lot of Tuesday left to endure.

*bleep*

 

It Seemed Like A Good Idea At the Time…

My friend J came over yesterday to keep me company while I worked on some Thanksgiving preparations. We planned to make my booze-filled cranberry sauce, and resolve some seating issues that we knew would probably require a trip to Target for a few additional tables. Seems easy enough, right?

J herself had already been shopping, and happened to pick up the above box of liquor-filled chocolates.

There is something I’ve leaned about J. She is impulsive in a check-out line, as I witnessed firsthand. When we ran into Bed, Bath and Beyond so I could grab tablecloths for the tables we had purchased at Target, she managed to walk out with multiple tablecloths, a bag of 100 tea lights and a $10 magazine…all in less than 45 seconds. Therefore, I was not surprised to learn that she had gone for a turkey platter and came out with booze-filled chocolates.

She brought them straight to my house…because she knows me well…

We pretty much tossed them aside while we took care of business, but once we finished, J, my husband and I busted into the box with the intention of trying a chocolate or two.

Ha…Ha…Mwhaaahaaahaaa.

I will tell you now, liquor-filled chocolates ARE NOT a healthy dinner…and eating 15 liquor-filled chocolates in lieu of a healthy dinner is an awesomely bad idea.

If you need me, I will be hiding under my desk today.

My Day Off—Plans Versus Reality

I had big plans for my day off. In theory, I wanted to:

  • Clean my house
  • Buy a turkey
  • Create my Thanksgiving battle plan
  • Catch up on laundry
  • Clean my closet
  • Clean my kids’ closet

But here’s what I did:

  • Got my new laptop and spent the next 3 hours getting programs installed
  • The all-important brunch
  • Got my husband’s Christmas presents
  • Went back to figuring out the new laptop

I am such a freaking bum.

This is what happens when my husband goes out of town for too long. I turn into a sloth.

Do you know what the solution is at this point?

I am going to fix a drink and wallow in my laziness.

Stalking The FedEx Guy

I will be MIA for the next day or so.

Why, do you ask?

I am stalking the FedEx guy, because somewhere in this town, he has my brand new laptop on his truck.

And he needs to being it to MEEEEEEEE!!!

(Dell is just relieved that I am no longer stalking them)

So, I will be offline for a day, while I get it setup and ready.

Did I mention that it’s pink?

I am a dork like that.

In the meantime, the heathens will have to fend for themselves…

Ok, not really, but I did entertain the notion that poptarts and Ritz crackers would be a nutritious dinner….with a scoop of Nutella for protein.

However, I reconsidered. I can cook…

because they can be look-outs for the FedEx guy.

I May Need a Desk…

In our new house, we originally planned to have an office, where both my husband and I would have separate desks. This was my grand plan to bring harmony to the Force.

We really need separate desks. As compatible as we are, I still do not understand why he needs to keep every single box for every single piece of computer software he has purchased, on his desk shelf. Don’t get me wrong, I have no objection to keeping them, but why not in the attic? My theory is that, if you haven’t touched it in three years, and it is not something the IRS may come looking for, why does it need to take up valuable desk space? And don’t get me started on the random cords, disks, and God help me, empty Rolodex’s. Also, our two boys often use his desk as a dumping ground for school papers, and I confess I am guilty of letting some mail pile up on occasion. As a result, my husband’s  desk is a wasteland of clutter that can never stay clean for more than 4 minutes at a time.

I know, my OCD is showing.

This summer, we realized that our “office” was really going to need to be a guest bedroom, and both my husband’s need for a desk, and our guests’ need for a bed overrode my plans. My husband frequently works from home, and considering that 85% of the house is Mama-territory, I can’t complain that the poor man needs some space to clutter up. Therefore, my desk was voted off the island.

Unfortunately, I’ve taken to working on my computer, bills, and whatever the heck else I do in the living room.

And the above photo was taken of my end table AFTER I made a concerted effort to clean it up.

So, this begs the question…

Do my guests REALLY need a bed to sleep in?

The Point at Which I Lost All Sense of Shame

While my husband was out of town, I was a less-than-stellar mom, and took my heathens out to eat most nights.

Our local neighborhood is blessed with a tiny, family-owned Mexican restaurant that we absolutely love. We eat there so often that they know us by name, and usually have my margarita poured before my backside hits the chair. The boys love it because all the servers tease them and call them “amigo,” which for some reason, makes my six year-old feel super special.

The other night, I promised the heathens that if they were good while I voted, then we could go eat there. Had I known it was that easy to bribe them into submission, I probably would have tried it sooner.

As we were enjoying our meal (and Mama was enjoying her happy-hour margarita), my youngest child excused himself to go to the restroom. About 45 seconds later, I hear a sound. And it gets louder. My baby is in the restroom…singing.

My son never sings. Even at school and Mass, he’s just not compelled to sing, especially if someone wants him to. Imagine my surprise when both myself and the ENTIRE RESTAURANT (it’s tiny after all) are treated to his unexpected bathroom concert.

And that frakking child wasn’t just singing, he was belting it out, Bette Midler-style. I tried to get my oldest child to run in the restroom and tell him to shut up, but HE was laughing so hard that tears were pouring down his little face.

In the meantime, most people were staring at me like I needed an intervention.

Luckily, the impromptu song ended when he came out of the restroom.

And I went back to my fajitas like it never happened.

Five Signs It’s Time for My Husband to Come Home

My husband has been out-of-town this week on business…if Orlando can really be called “business.”

But I’m not bitter…I swear.

In case you were wondering, when I travel for business, I end up in places people have never heard of; I think that the life of public service is never going to land me in the likes of Orlando.

He gets world-class resorts, and I get aging Holiday Inns.  Not that I’m jealous or anything.

But, as predicted, I digress….

He’s been gone for nearly a week now, and I think I’ve reached my limit of two yahoo boys, a quirky hundred year-old house and my ineptitude with the wine opener.

Today, I recognized five signs that it’s past time from that clown to get his behind back in the Bayou state:

  1. I forgot to brush and style my oldest boy’s hair this morning, and the poor kid went to school looking like he got beat in the head with a weed-wacker. What can I say? That’s my husband’s job, so I can’t be blamed for subjecting the poor kid to the curious stares of those who probably wonder if I am off some medication. I’ll just chalk it up to more fodder for therapy later.
  2. I have been startled by so many strange noises that I almost called the police when my ice-maker kicked on. Furthermore, how sad is it that I took a full ten minutes to discern that the noise in question was, in fact, the ice maker, and not some mythical horror movie boogey-man?
  3. I am so bored that I’m watching reruns of shows I am way too embarrassed to confess I’m actually watching. My brain is turning into Swiss cheese as we speak.
  4. I’ve taken to hiding in the bathroom, because I need a break from prying apart my boys, as they have their 567th argument of the day.
  5. I actually entertained the notion that a few spoonfuls of Nutella was a nutritious enough meal for dinner.

Clearly, we are descending into madness…Thankfully, he will be home tomorrow…