You Call It The Thrift Store, I Call It The Weedy-Weedy

I like to shop.  

I'm also a tightwad.

These two traits of mine often leave me conflicted.  

I can't remember the last time I paid more than $15 for a shirt or $19.99 for a pair of pants. This probably explains why my wardrobe is so....so....eclectic.  My outfit choices range from downright dowdy to eyebrow raising flashy.  There is no in-between when it comes to the clearance section at Marshalls.

But I luuuuv finding good deals.  Something about being able to say, "Don't you love my sweater, it was only 12 bucks!" gives the the tingles.  This tendency towards prideful frugality seems to be genetic, a trait passed exclusively in xx chromosomes of my family line.  It has clearly skipped the men of my family, who think nothing of spending $15 on a single pair of tube socks (I'm talking about you, Chris, and your Thorlo's).

Not sure if it is because we grew up broke or because we grew up Mexican, but thrift stores have been a part of my life for a very long time.  If you're familiar with thrift shopping, you'll know what I'm talking about when I speak of the thrift shop "smell" that meets your nostrils the moment your foot crosses the threshold.  Last week, I was met with that familiar smell, and for the first time in my life, I thought, "ahhh, the stinky smell of my childhood."  It actually conjured a familiar, happy sensation.

How gross is that?

Anyway, last week, I decided I was going to hit the local shop and see if there were any treasures to be unearthed at the local Goodwill.  And I.  Hit.  Pay.  Dirt.

No joke, for a mere $11.93, I brought home all these treasures.

Can't wait till it warms up enough to wear this.

Who doesn't need a good thermal shirt?

This has beach camping written all over it.

A Free People shirt!  For 99 cents!

You can never have too many unique tees.

Ugly on the hanger, but super cute on.

Halloween is only 8 months away.  This dress screams Peter Pan.

Kids tap shoes?  Remember the part about how I love to shop?  Lucky for me I'm a tightwad.  Only 4 bucks!

The downside of thrift store shopping is that your sense of good taste can go downhill fairly quickly.  Kids' size 3 tap shoes?  Who on earth am I buying these for?  My 3 boys?  Not really.

Take this chair for example.  I love it in the same way a momma loves her ugly baby.  I see the beauty in it.

What's not to love?  This chair is GORGEOUS.

I got it at a thrift store in Santa Barbara.  My mom and I were taking advantage of my sister being under the knife to go hit a shop before she woke up.

Side note:  mom's are notorious for getting you to buy something you wouldn't normally buy for yourself.

I fell in love with the price tag on this chair ($4) probably before I even fell in love with the chair itself.  How could I resist?

Only after returning home, with a new chair in the back of the minivan, did I doubt my purchase.  I think the moment hit me precisely as I was unveiling my glorious find to BH.  For this is what he saw:

Vinyl covering, cheap finish, uncomfortable seat.

The look on his face said it all.  I believe he might've said something about a waste of money.  That's ok, I still love my chair with the good bones.  And BH is now banned from sitting on my chair.  Forever.

You know those people who have beautiful homes that are tastefully decorated with the perfect combination of modern and vintage?  Ours is not one of those homes. 

And you know those women who are always put together with amazing vintage tops paired with perfectly cut trousers?  I'm not one of those women either.

Ours is the house with the ugly thrift store chair I won't let go of and I am the lady at the grocery store with the thrift store tag she forgot to tear off. But it works me and mine.  

So if you happen to also be a tightwad who likes to shop, your local thrift store (or La Segunda, if you're hispanic (or the weedy-weedy, if you're hispanic and grew up in Oxnard)) might be the past time for you.  These places are a delicious, acquired taste.  You should get out there and try one some day.  

Just stay away from mine.

What's the Opposite of a Pinterest Fail?

A Pinterest Success!

I never thought I'd see the day where a Pinterest idea actually panned out.

I've had my share of pinterest fails, and my faith was fairly shaken.  Hairstyles, makeup techniques, crafts, recipes...they all resulted in disaster.

But not this time.

So here's the backstory.  My niece, G, and I were goofing off one day, trying on my mom's red lipstick (yes, even at 42, I still play with makeup), when I decided to go for a retro look to accompany the lipstick.

The end result on me, was horrible. I believe the term my sister used to describe it was "transvestite."

But for G, it ended up a total success.  I recalled a look I had seen on Pinterest and convinced her to let me try it out on her.  I can't find the pin anymore to show you what it was supposed to look like, but here's what I made of it:

Gotta love teenagers and their fingernails.

Not bad for a rubber band and two bobby pins.

I'm available for weddings.

Nice photobomb, Charley.

Still Strapped, Still In Love

Last month marked the 21 year anniversary of our first kiss.

We've officially crossed the "we've been together half our lives" mark.  From this point on, we can say we've been together longer than we've been apart.  That blows me away.  Mostly, because I can't believe I'm that old.  But also because I feel like we've only been together maybe 10 years, max.

In both cases, how I feel inside doesn't match up with the sheer volume of years that is our anniversary.  I suppose for some people, twenty years may feel more like 40, but for me, it's the other way around.  So we decided to piece together a timeline, from that first kiss 21 years ago, to now. 

Our goal was to remember something...anything... about each year we've been together.  It didn't have to be anything major, the exercise was designed to prove to ourselves that we've got 20+ years of memories together.

Here's what we came up with

1992 - First kiss at the The Cowboy Boogie. Yes, this great romance has it's beginnings in a seedy country western bar.

1993 - Engaged!  And shacking up.

1994 - "I do."

Weak in the knees.

1995 - First career job; so excited to be making $26k.

1996 - Back to school.

1997 - BH's mom passes away.

Forever grateful to this lady.

1998 - MBA.

Notice that twinkle in his eye?  See 1999.

1999 - Our first bundle of joy!

To say, "your lives will change forever" is an understatement.

2000 - Our first home.

2001 - Cancer scare.

When the doctor puts his hand on your knee, you know it's serious.  Either that or he's a perv.

No evidence for malignancy!  All three times!!!

2002 - Our second bundle of joy.

Hello, my little gift.

2003 - Discover L's food allergies:  milk, egg, peanut, and soy.

This was the last time he had a real baked treat for 6 years.

2004 - Children's Hospital of Orange County; add asthma to the list.

2005 - Guess who's not done making babies?  Me!

There's a bun in that oven.

 

2006 - Our third bundle of joy!

Our family is complete.

2007 - New home; new schools, new community.

2008 - First family camping trip.

2009 - BH's surprise birthday party.

2010 - Charley.

Let it be known that if I have a bad picture of you, it will make its way into my blog.  Not even pets are safe.

2011 - Our little friend, Thomas, loses his fight with cancer.

One brave kid.

2012 - Best camping spot EVER.

San Simeon, CA

 

2013 - And here we are, 21 years later.

That's it, 21 years of memories.  For sure, there are way more than that, but those were the first that came to mind for each year.  After going through them, BH had a moment of silence over how mundane our life appears on paper.  No fancy trips, no amazing stories.

"Still strapped," he said.

"And still in love," I replied.

Sometimes Family Parties Are Just More Fun

You might consider this post a part 2 to the birthday one I published earlier this month.  I can see the connection, so we'll go with it.

M had his 7th birthday last month.  While we usually do something small on the actual birth day, we also like to celebrate with friends or family when it's convenient for everyone, ie. on the weekend.  Because parties for 3 kids get expensive quickly, we employ a "one year on, one year off" party strategy.  Last year was the "on" year, so he had his Tron-themed blowout.

This year, we kept it low key with pizza and hot dogs at Grandma's.  With three cousins, 2 brothers, and an aunt who is a giant kid (Tilte, I'm talking about you), he's pretty much guaranteed a good time regardless of whether it's an "on" year or an "off" year.

I've already established in part 1 of this post that I failed to plan properly for his birthday this year.  As a result, I had no gifts for him on his birthday and nothing planned for the weekend gathering at Grandma's.  I felt like a bit of a bad momma for forgetting his presents, so I used the 2 days between his birthday and the weekend to scramble to put together his "family party", as we refer to them in the ol' Number Whisperer household.

It's a good thing I did, because on Friday at child care pick up, the kindly lady who supervises the kids wished me good luck with the "family party".  Apparently M had been telling everyone about his weekend plans.

I had been throwing around the idea of a Minute-to-Win-it Christmas party after spotting a pin on Pinterest, so I did some quick googling, and came up with a birthday party to rival the best of them.

Most of the ideas I stole from this site.

This party ended up being one of the best ones I've had.  There were no over the top themed decorations and there was no huge party budget.  I think I spent about $12 total, because most of the props I was able to find around the house.

Here's a photo parade of all the fun.

Stick a tennis ball in some pantyhose, shove it on your head and do your best to knock down the bottles.

This game only gets funnier the more you play it.

EVERYone wanted in on the action.

The adults had to knock down strategically-placed bottles.

At this point, we couldn't breathe from laughing so much.

And then we moved on to the "eat a cookie off your face" game.

Even the teenagers had fun.

Flick a ping pong ball into the basket across the room.  We used L as a weight.

Well THAT doesn't look incriminating.

Transfer a skittle from the table to a container, using only a straw and your lungs.

Everyone was feeling the love that night.

And it quickly turned into a "who is stronger" contest.

I think she won.

I would be remiss if I did not say something about the disaster that was M's birthday cake.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  I'm not a baker.  I'm the equivalent of the angel of death to cakes, cookies, and other sugary treats.  I think this photo of my offering needs no further explanation.

My sister took one look at it and said, "You need to submit that to epicfail.com."  Thanks Tilte.

When Kids Have Questions About Private Parts

I was going through my old emails at work today and came across some fairly entertaining ones I've sent to BH over the years.  Here's one about P, who was 7 at the time.

From: Number Whisperer

Sent: Thursday, April 05, 2007 4:13 PM

To: Better Half

Subject: the birds and the bees

P asked me yesterday why we have privates.  I told him they’re for making babies.  He didn’t understand, duh, so I explained that to make a baby, the half from mommy and the half from daddy has to come from inside their bodies...it’s not like we can just buy the ingredients and cook up a baby in the kitchen.  And the only way this stuff can combine to make the baby is by using the private parts.

I can’t believe it, but he didn’t even ask HOW.  And I wasn’t going to push it.

I’m sure more questions will follow.

I have a feeling P didn't ask any follow up questions, because he had no idea what I was talking about. Either that or the imagery shocked him speechless.

The Trouble With January Birthdays

A few weeks back, M turned seven, and like any other six year old, he had been looking forward to the big day, oh, since about a week after his last birthday.  Completely disregarding the fact that Christmas was only 23 days earlier, he was practically salivating at the thought of what he might receive in gifts.

Have I mentioned that work has been crazy lately?  It has, since October.  And between Christmas and his birthday, I barely had time to breathe, let alone plan a special day for him, which is how January 16th rolled around, and I had yet to purchase a single gift for him.  

His birthday is the 17th.  Totally my fault, I know.  I should've planned better.  So when the night before his birthday appeared (out of nowhere) and BH called from the freeway to see if I had bought anything, I felt a twinge of guilt saying,"oh no!  I didn't yet (yet, ha).  Did you?"

I only asked him in the hopes that he would shoulder some of the guilt with me.  But he and I both know full well that birthday planning is my job.

So the night before M's birthday, 3 weeks after Christmas, BH hit every toy store in the county.  He returned at 9pm with a video game and a hot dog toaster. 

Really?  A hot dog toaster?  And yes, the Christmas decorations are still out.  More about that later.

Turns out the toy inventories had not yet been replenished so soon after Christmas.  I guess I had never noticed before, probably because I had never been in the position to need a bunch gifts on short order.

So it's 9 o'clock, the night before his birthday.  I had to think quick.  How was I going to save this one?

M, who had been counting down to the big day since Thanksgiving, was pumped for his birthday, which would be arriving in less than 12 hours.

Me:  "M, since tomorrow is a school day, you'll only get to open one gift in the morning."

M:  "Ok, Momma.  Can I pick which present to open?"

Me: "No, Daddy and I get to chose for you."

M:  "Ok!"

The next morning, M opened up his hot dog maker and marveled at his new appliance.  It was decided that he would cook dinner for us on his birthday.  Thank goodness, because I  had also forgotten to plan dinner or dessert.

The toaster diversion bought me some time.  I would need a miracle, but I was determined to find him some birthday presents.

Enter  TJ Maxx.

Who would've thought that TJ Maxx, of all places, would have a ton of Star Wars figures and other 7-year-old-boy appropriate toys less than a month after Christmas?  I've been in this store nuuumerous times in the last 6 years, and I've never known them to carry good toys.  But I wasn't going to question it.  I scooped up everything in sight and loaded up the minivan.

So I did it.  Shopped, wrapped, picked up groceries for dinner, baked monkey bread AND put in a full day at the office (or at least that's the story I'm sticking to).

When I picked him up from child care that night, he was so excited to come home and begin celebrating.

As we're walking up the path to the front door, he turns to me and says:

"Momma, you remembered to keep the Christmas decorations for my birthday!  Thank you Momma!"

You're welcome M, you're welcome.