Fluent Brittish

Scotty and I are very careful with our money. We’ve been very fortunate to have everything we need, and we feel that the best way to show our gratitude for this blessing is to live within our means. Sometimes things are tight, but we always pull through. We never allow our wants or desires to consume our finances. Other than our home, we are debt-free, and I love being able to say that.

We believe in saving up to buy things. Sometimes, in the time it takes to save up to buy something, we realize we don’t really want or need that “thing” after all. Every time we need to make a big purchase, we shop around for a long time before we commit. Sometimes it’s ridiculous, we took nearly a year to buy our couches after we picked the ones we wanted. I get frustrated with our constant obsession to get a good deal. I’m always worried that we’ll buy something and then find it cheaper somewhere else, but sometimes that’s what saves us money in the long run because we eventually just give up and buy nothing.

I feel like, at this point in the post, I need to clarify a little bit. I’m not such a stickler for everyday purchases. With groceries and gas, you win some and you lose some. I try to get the best deal, but I’m not as obsessive about smaller purchases. We still go out to dinner sometimes and splurge on the occasional movie rental. We also firmly believe that kindness comes back to us, so we like to treat other people to dinner or a nice gift now and then. We keep a budget, but we’re flexible. We’re not your typical tightwads*.

Lately we’ve been shopping around for a certain big purchase item (BPI). We’ve looked into consumer reviews and various distributors of this BPI for so long, that our eyes go cross-eyed at the thought of it. The other day, Scotty and I discussed whether or not we want to make this purchase. This BPI is something that we really want, and we feel that it will be a good investment. We weighed our options, and we decided that we are going to ‘just do it.’ We know what we want, and we know that it isn’t the best deal, but we’ve never gone crazy like this on a BPI, and we think that one time in five years will be okay.

This afternoon, I’m meeting Scotty at the store to buy our BPI. We are so excited, and if everything goes well, I’ll have some good pictures to post next week. Woot!

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*Tightwad Prototype #1:

• They manipulate other people to get free or discounted stuff
• They jokingly ask, “Can I have that?” and hope they will really get it
• They never offer to pay their half of anything
• They never pay people back
• They carry a stack of grocery ads to Wal-Mart to match prices
• They cry poverty in hopes that people will ‘help them out’
• They never give gifts because they feel like it’s a personal loss to them
• If they do give gifts, they’re usually re-gifts, and obviously so
• They never offer to drive anywhere, and if they do they ask for gas money

This prototype is based off experiences I’ve had with family and friends who are tightwads. To each his own, but Scotty and I disagree with some of these practices.

• Do you ever drop the bottle of shampoo on your foot in the shower? I do this all the time. That stuff hurts. Makes me want to swear.
• Somehow I went against everything I believe in and bought a season pass to a water park. I am so not a water park person, and yet, Nicky loves it enough that I’m willing to tromp around half naked in public on his behalf. Yesterday I tried on swimming suits at Kohl’s (the only place open at 8:00 in the morning), and I was so upset at what I saw in the mirror that I kind of flipped out a bit. I intentionally left the dressing room trashed to make a statement. That was rude of me, no? When I left the store, I swore to get in shape. Then I came home and ate some French fries.
• Yesterday I spent $5.66 at Wal-Mart. Late last night I looked at my receipt and noticed I was charged $85.66. Apparently I selected $80 cash back. I had to call the store three times (and Scotty called twice from his cell phone) to get in touch with someone who spoke English. Today I have to go in and talk to their accounting department and (hopefully) get my money back. I also have to call my bank and let them know what happened because my checking account might get overdrawn when my bills clear, and I don’t want to be responsible for the $85 fine. Yeah, I should switch banks. That’s kind of a ridiculous fee.
• Yesterday (which is starting to sound like a really bad day at this point, but it was actually a pretty decent day) I received a citation from West Valley City in the mail. I guess they have a problem with a small weed garden we have in our yard (no, not marijuana. Just normal weeds). We have 30 days to beautify our weed patch before the $25 a day fine kicks in. This makes me sad because some of the weeds are pretty. I’m wondering if a certain neighbor of ours called and reported us. Hmmm…..
• I watch my nephew, T-Bone, on Thursdays. Today he had a very dramatic poop, the kind you have to get up close and personal with. After changing him, I realized that I’m totally out of the disposable diaper routine. I had to stop and think about what to do with the dirty diaper. Oh yeah! I should take it outside to the garbage can…. in the rain. Lucky me! That’s one up for cloth diapers: they don’t require me to face the elements.
• Speaking of cloth diapers, I blog with Marilyn at Cloth Diaper Mamas. If you like to talk about baby bottoms and poop, you should check it out. If you use cloth diapers and would like to contribute to our blog, let us know. We’d love to have you!
• A few weeks ago I checked out the first season of Boy Meets World from the library. You know how sometimes you watch a show that you loved as a youngin, and you think Oh my gosh! What a cheesy, stupid show! How did this ever make television? (kind of like Full House?) Well, Boy Meets World is NOT like that. Boy Meets World is awesome and clever, and I heart it. I picked up season two today if you want to come over and watch it with me.
• Have you seen Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium? When I saw the previews, I thought it would be a typical, annoyingly zany children’s movie, and I had no desire to see it, but Scotty and I rented it a few weeks ago because we sort of have a thing for Dustin Hoffman. It was a surprisingly good show, and it has this guy in it from Arrested Development, and I think I have a crush on him.
• Do you see that extra bullet there? What the heck is that? I can’t get rid of it! Curse my computer skills!! Update: It went away. Never mind.

It’s funny what motherly hormones can do to you. Yesterday I wept during Clifford the Big Red Dog. Real tears, too. You see, all of the dogs were going to Obedience School, and most of them were getting extra attention and treats from the teacher. T-Bone was feeling left out; he wanted a treat, too, but all the teacher would do is pat him on the head.

On graduation day, all of the dogs leaped around confidently as they received recognition for their efforts in Obedience School. T-Bone, on the other hand, sat in the Sheriff’s lap feeling bad about himself. He thought he wasn’t going to receive a medal because he wasn’t ‘good enough.’

Suddenly, the instructor (named Brittany Spaniel, which coincidentally, is my dad’s nickname for me) called T-Bone to the stand and presented him with a medal and told the audience what made T-Bone special. The Sheriff hugged T-Bone and told him how proud he was. Never have I seen such a happier Sheriff (that’s when I started crying).

So before you have a kid, ask yourself how you feel about sobbing during PBS shows because there’s a pretty good chance that Elmo, Arthur, or Baby Bop will bring out your sensitive side.

It’s 11:00 in the morning at the time I sit to type this post. I just placed Nicklaus in his crib after he sniffled himself into slumber. I’ve spent the better part of my day so far saying things like, “No, Nicky! That’s dangerous,” but does trying to teach a toddler about ‘danger’ really do any good?

Lately Nicky has been trying to tempt the fates by climbing. I’ve found him standing on the coffee table, on the back of the couch, on the bathroom counter, on the kitchen table, and on the toilet. I’ve even watched him escape his high chair and use the tray to boost him high enough to climb on the kitchen counter. He has to stand on everything, and he has to reach the highest height possible. Just yesterday Nicky tried using a 24-pack of Mountain Dew to climb atop my mom’s beverage cooler. This morning I found him trying to stand on his Bounce and Spin Zebra. There are no words to describe the behavior of my child. I can’t leave him alone for five seconds or disaster will ensue. Even in my presence, there’s a 90% chance he will do something incredibly dangerous.

About 45 minutes ago, Nick tried to climb on the piano bench causing it to fall forward. He hit his face on the bench on his way down to the ground, and the blood started pouring immediately. I was right there when it happened, but he did it so quickly that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. Nicky started screaming, causing the blood to flow more quickly. I grabbed him and ran upstairs to the bathroom. I found a rag, wetted it, and tried to hold it to Nicky’s face. He had blood running from his mouth and nose, and it was coming out so rapidly that it got EVERYWHERE. I was covered in it, Nicky was covered in it, and there was a trail on the carpet from my living room to my bathroom-back down to my living room-into the kitchen-and back up to the bathroom (apparently I ran a marathon with my bloody child in my arms).

I was worried sick about all of the possibilities surrounding the injury. A broken nose? Misplaced teeth? Fat lips? Nick wouldn’t let me anywhere near his face to examine him or clean him up, but luckily, he didn’t scream for long, and the blood slowed down after about five minutes. I got the doctor’s office on the phone right away, and Nick’s pediatrician is going to be in touch with me shortly.

Nick fell asleep quickly once he calmed down, and I was able to look in his mouth and nose a little bit. His teeth look fine, and his nose seems to be okay. He looks like he might have a little bit of swelling on his upper lip, so I’ll keep my eye on that for a while, but I think he’s fine.

This was our first official blood gushing incident, and I have a feeling there are a lot more in store for us. Do any of you have connections with a rubber room supplier? Because I’m thinking I’m going to need one of those.

Update: I spoke with Nick’s pediatrician. He seems to think that Nick is fine, but he wants me to watch for lesions and behavior changes. I never know what to do about the ‘behavior’ thing. What am I supposed to watch for? If Nicky wakes up charming and loving am I supposed to rush him to InstaCare? Because that would alarm me more than anything else.

I let Nicky have ice cream for lunch. Things are looking up so far.

Ever since I left home and married the love of my life, my mom has been trying to fill the void I left in her soul. She started by taking a quilting class, but that wasn’t enough so she got involved with volunteer firefighting and belly dancing. This past year my mom must have gotten bored again because she and her friend, Barbara, decided they needed to take a ghost hunting class

Each week my mom and Barbara join one of Utah’s top ghost hunters at various ‘haunted’ locations throughout the state. Their first journey was to the Park City Cemetery where my mom snapped a bunch of pictures. Here is her pride and joy:

Last week my mom hunted ghosts at a haunted antique shop, and this week she went to an old train station. Each time my mom goes hunting, someone in the group has an encounter with the deceased. At the antique shop, the instructor made contact with a lady named Gertrude. At the train station, something happened to Barbara that really freaked her out. She won’t talk about it. My mom hasn’t had an encounter of her own yet, but she’s looking for one.

Last night my family got together for my step-dad’s birthday, and my grandma was rambling on about my mom and her ‘ghost crap.’ My grandma thinks it’s a bunch of baloney. She turned to me and said, “You don’t believe in this nonsense, do you?” I just shrugged because I don’t know if I believe in it or not. I know a lot of people who’ve had experiences with the dead, and I wouldn’t necessarily call them liars, but I haven’t had any personal experiences that would make me a true believer in ghosts.

It’s said that some people have the gift and others don’t, but if you’re looking for ghosts, you’re bound to find something that you can associate with a haunting whether it’s real or not. Since my mom is technologically impaired, she always has me upload her ghost hunting pictures to her computer. As I sift through them, zooming in and out, I see reflections in glass, floating balls of light, and dark shadows. But are these traces of the departed or am I allowing my own mind to deceive me because I’m looking for these types of things?

What do you think? Do you believe in ghosts?

There are a lot of things in life that I haven’t experienced, and while I try to be open-minded, I often have a hard time understanding things that I haven’t dealt with personally. Take for instance: getting pregnant on accident.

In my mind, there is no possible way to conceive a child accidentally. I feel this way because I had a hard time conceiving one on purpose so I have no place in my brain for the comprehension of an “Oops Baby.” I always ponder the phenomenon of Oops Babies. I know how they happen, I just can’t imagine it ever happening to me.

The truth is, I would love to have an Oops Baby. Right now would be the perfect time for one: Nicky is 18 months old, we are (mostly) financially stable, and I already have a pooch so why not fill it with something? An Oops Baby would be great because I’m not in a position where I’m ready to consciously get pregnant, but if I were to have an “accident” it would be beyond my control and would eliminate the need for me to make the choice. Frankly, if it’s up to me, I may never feel right about having another baby. My feelings about babies are so conflicting. On one hand, I want another baby, and I want him/her to be close in age to Nicky. On the other hand, I absolutely dread the possibilities that come with a second child. Can I handle another baby? Can I survive pregnancy and Nicky’s toddler years? It’s all so unpredictible.

And then there’s the BIG question: Can I even get pregnant?

With Nicky it took me almost two years to get pregnant, and during those two years, I underwent a lot of testing, and we never found out what was wrong. It’s possible that I just had a one-time bout of infertility, but I really don’t know. I could easily struggle with conception again, and if I wait another year or two before “trying,” Nicky could be 30 by the time his brother/sister comes along (you never know, maybe my ovaries will be Super Heroes in their fifties).

I’m always amazed when someone tells me she’s decided to try and have a baby and then like magic, she’s pregnant within the month. In my mind, it takes years to conceive. I don’t know what it’s like to actually have control over conception. To me, becoming pregnant is like getting on an enjoyable roller coaster only to have it break down leaving you stuck in your seat while the engineers fix it. It’s hard to make the choice that you want a baby. Once you want one, that’s all you think about, and once you realize it might be harder to get one than you thought, you carry that with you everywhere you go. I have to admit, I keep a wall around me now when it comes to babies because I don’t want to experience that ache again.

That’s where my Oops Baby comes in. No wanting, no waiting, no wishing, no hoping. Just oops!

Yesterday my life as a mother continued in a downward spiral. I ended up unplugging the computer and letting Nicky have his way with it. Eventually he got bored and moved on to other things. To keep my sanity, I decided to make the best of it and create a photo diary of yesterday’s events.

Most of these events took place over the span of a single hour, and eventually I dragged Nicky to my mom’s house so I could have some time to myself.

This is how Nick started the day out:

I fixed him a bowl of cereal which he wouldn’t eat, so I took him out of his high chair and left the bowl sitting there for a minute. Nick walked in the kitchen, grabbed the bowl of cereal, and dumped it on the living room floor. Pardon our ugly carpet.

Shortly after the spilled milk issue, we had the poop incident. I mistakenly let Nicky run around the house naked for a while while I tended to the mess (you would think I’d learned my lesson last time).

I found Nicky playing in the cat’s water:

Standing in the dishwasher:

And standing on a muffin pan:

You may be wondering what Nicky is looking at in this picture. Well, my friends, it seems that there is no greater joy than standing on a muffin pan while peeing on the kitchen floor. Thankfully he chose to pee on the linoleum so I could hear it rather than on the carpet where I may never have found it (and yes, my cat is licking it up, I KNOW!!!!)

I eventually got Nicky dressed, and he chased the cat around with the bathroom plunger:

Then I found the toilet paper in the laundry hamper:

And this toy that he bit the top off:

I’ll probably find it in his poop next week.

After a long, miserable day, it was only appropriate that I leave Nicky with his dad and head out to see Baby Mama with my friends. Here’s proof:

Christie spilled her popcorn on my feet.

The movie was cute and funny and all that stuff, and in honor of Baby Mama, I give you Baby Daddy:

Is Scotty my baby daddy?

Or is Rick Schroder my baby daddy?

Then again, Nicky does bare some semblance to Ralph Wiggam:

and Linus:

But I think I’m leaning toward Rick Shroder:

because Nick says, “Dada,” when he sees Rick’s picture.

When the Comcast guy, Ron Weasley, came to install our HIGH SPEED INTERNET (it deserves the caps) on Saturday, we decided to move our computer from the spare bedroom downstairs to our living room. Since we were in a hurry, we left the fifty-million-pound computer armoire downstairs and just took the computer up for Ron Weasley to work with.

Three days later, the armoire is still in the basement, and my computer is sitting on a little table next to the couch, unprotected. About ten minutes ago I completely lost my cool because-for the gazillionth time- I had to pull Nicky away from the computer. He will not leave it alone. He pounds on the keyboard, pulls the wires out, climbs on the tower, and hits the screen with his toys. He is so fixated on the computer that I can’t get him to do anything else. I feel like the only thing I’ve done for the past few days is drag Nicky, kicking and screaming, out of the living room while I, myself, kick and scream.

Nicky at 5 months. He crashed the computer by pounding on the keyboard right after I took this picture. He’s crashed it three times now.

Nicky at 17 months, right before I threw the computer out the window.

This last time, the time when I lost my cool, Nicky fought back. As I took him away and tried to carry him upstairs, he grabbed onto the skin of my neck and pulled as hard as he could while digging his fingernails into me. It hurt so bad, I didn’t know what to do, so I dropped him on the couch. When I went to pick him up a minute later, my hand squished into something warm and wet. Nicky had had a blow out, and a large portion of that blowout was now on my couch.

With my neck burning in pain (I swear this kid has poison in his fingernails), I ran Nicky upstairs to clean him up. I removed his diaper and tried to keep him flat on his back long enough to wipe his bottom (and half of his back). Nicky never holds still while I change is diaper, so of course, he rolled over and sat down on his bum which spread the poo disaster even farther, and what luck! He happened to be holding the digital camera, also covered in poo.

Did I mention he was wearing new clothes?

It is at this point that I have completely lost it. I’m officially insane with frustration toward my child, and I’m fighting the urge to go on a rampage through the house. Why not throw the computer out the upstairs window? Then I won’t have to worry about it any more. After that, I can throw out all the clothing, so I won’t have to do laundry anymore. Then I’ll throw all the toys out, too, because frankly, I’m sick of tripping over them and having to search the whole house to find missing stacking rings only to find them in the toilet. And the toilet? Definitely gone because I’m tired of finding Nicky swirling his hands in it, and better yet, using a cup to scoop the water out of it and pour it on the bathroom floor.

From now on, we are a computer-free, toy-free, naked household. We also use the bathroom in our backyard, so if you never want to come over again I completely understand (it’s better that way anyway because we have fecal matter on our living room couch, and you probably won’t want to sit there).

Scotty’s cousin, B-Dawg, and his wife, Barbie, are having twins next month, a boy and a girl. Barbie’s baby shower is coming up, and I feel like, in this case, everyone is going to go extreme with the gifts: matching outfits, coordinated blankets, large supplies of diapers, and what not. Boy and girl twins? What a perfect gift-giving opportunity. I have no choice but to give the babies something awesome so I decided to make baby slings for them. I picked out some fabric at the store, had it cut, and used my totally awesome 40% off coupon to pay for it. I got home and made the first cut into the fabric. Then I measured for the second cut, and oops! I didn’t buy enough fabric.

Now I’m stuck with 4 1/2 yards of fabric - that I’ve already cut into - and no slings. Bah!

But never fear! For I shall come up with something awesome to make out of that fabric. Definitely not a baby sling - unless I get invited to a baby shower for someone really short - but something fun nevertheless. In the meantime, I’m practicing my adding and subtracting skills while finishing up these bad boys:

They aren’t as cool as the slings would have been, but at least Barbie will be able to tell her babies apart without taking off their diapers.

Now how many inches are in a yard of fabric? 36? Ok.

I’ve been blogging for almost three years now, and until yesterday, I’d never had high speed internet. Last week, I called Comcast and took advantage of their $19.95 a month deal. Unfortunately that deal only lasts for four months, so eventually, I need to look into other possibilities (read: call Comcast and tell them I’d like to cancel my service then see what kind of counteroffer they give me - because there’s always a ’secret’ deal they can pull from somewhere).

During the days leading up to the Great Installation, I thought a lot about the wonderful possibilities that high speed internet can bring to my life. No more hanging on to the threads of dial-up internet.  I can finally see what your blogs really look like (I didn’t realize that half of the stuff in your sidebars and headers never loaded - the things I’ve been missing out on!!!!) and even better, I can actually leave comments without waiting five minutes for your comments pages to load.

This is heaven. It truly is.

I can upload photos to flickr without tying up my phone line for hours at a time, I can do research, I can download music, and I can FINALLY open e-mail attachments. And YouTube??? How I love thee! I’m so happy to have the ability to upload embarrassing videos of my husband, watch the opening theme to Today’s Special, and share the joy of the Smurfs with Nicky.

Speaking of Nicky and the internet, he can’t get enough of PBS Kids.

This is so much better than Caller ID (but I really love Caller ID). The only problem is that the last thing I want to do, now that I have high speed internet, is blog.

But I’m sure a good case of the Mondays will fix that so I’ll see you tomorrow!