Yesterday, 4:00 p.m.
What does late afternoon look like at your house?
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Småland.
1st Item of Business: Yesterday was the 24th of October, otherwise known as The Smush's 7-month mark.
Big boy! And what sass.
He can now sit up on his own. I know because I found him that way in his crib this morning. What a shock it was to see that little tow-head peeking up over the crib bumper. A cute shock, but a shock nonetheless.
He's mobile, but I wouldn't say he crawls just yet. He pretty much just drags one leg across the floor, pulling himself along with his arms. But he gets where he wants to go. Thank goodness for baby gates.
2nd Item of Business: The sheer brilliance of IKEA.
So, it's no secret I love IKEA. I love the style, the price, the atmosphere, the sensibility of its products. Oh, and the food isn't half bad, either.
But now, I love IKEA for a whole new reason.
They don't call it "magic" for nothing.
Big boy! And what sass.
He can now sit up on his own. I know because I found him that way in his crib this morning. What a shock it was to see that little tow-head peeking up over the crib bumper. A cute shock, but a shock nonetheless.
He's mobile, but I wouldn't say he crawls just yet. He pretty much just drags one leg across the floor, pulling himself along with his arms. But he gets where he wants to go. Thank goodness for baby gates.
2nd Item of Business: The sheer brilliance of IKEA.
So, it's no secret I love IKEA. I love the style, the price, the atmosphere, the sensibility of its products. Oh, and the food isn't half bad, either.
But now, I love IKEA for a whole new reason.
They don't call it "magic" for nothing.
Basically, if you're kid is 37 inches or taller (Bubby happens to be 39) and potty-trained (check!), parents can drop them off for a whole hour at the amazing IKEA babysitting service known as Småland. And it's FREEEEEE.
Maybe you've seen it at the bottom of the escalator, tucked safely into the corner. For years, I beheld its glory and pondered on the day I'd finally partake of its wonders. I mean, my kids. When my kids would finally partake of its wonders.
Well, that time came on a blissful October 15. Dill had an eye appointment just across the street from Swedish Heaven so I decided we'd all go to the eye appointment and hit up IKEA afterward. It's about a 30-minute drive from our house so we don't go all that often. But if we're going to be in that neck of the woods, we stop. Mandatory. I can't be within 2 miles of it without getting sucked in by an unexplained magnetic force. I have no control over the situation. I am at the Swedes' whims.
As we strolled up to the doors of the giant blue furniture Mecca, it dawned on me: My kid is unusually tall. Which means she's tall enough for Småland! A little fireworks show erupted inside of me. Dill was thrilled at this realization as well. A win for the parents. Bubby enjoys riding in a shopping cart about as much as I like shopping with a preschooler and a baby, but she LOOOOVES playing with other kids. Win for Bubby. And IKEA wins because you're more likely to buy their crap when you're not pulling our hair out and cursing your kids by the end of the shopping trip. So it's a win-win-win.
Michael Scott would be so proud.
Once I signed the rules form, Bubby ran into Småland in barefoot delight and we were off. Smush rode along in the cart as happy as a clam. Dill and I ventured upstairs to the café for some $2 breakfast which we savored. Then, like twitterpated newlyweds, we strolled leisurely through the store, noting how easy and fun it was with just one kid in tow. It was pure bliss. I didn't have to say "No" once the entire time we shopped. We wondered, Why the heck didn't we go more places when it was just Bubs to worry about?
If you only have one child, you'd better take advantage of that and go out in public often. Like, every weekend. Because the more kids you add to the mix, the more circus-like your group becomes at places like church, the grocery store or IKEA, and the less you want to leave your home. Take my word for it.
When our hour was up, I returned to Småland to pick up a happy Bubby. She had colored a picture of some weird rat and hedgehog. She said she played in the ball pit and watched a movie. She talked about it for days afterward. And so did we.
And look, it's been more than a week and I'm STILL talking about it.
Maybe you've seen it at the bottom of the escalator, tucked safely into the corner. For years, I beheld its glory and pondered on the day I'd finally partake of its wonders. I mean, my kids. When my kids would finally partake of its wonders.
Well, that time came on a blissful October 15. Dill had an eye appointment just across the street from Swedish Heaven so I decided we'd all go to the eye appointment and hit up IKEA afterward. It's about a 30-minute drive from our house so we don't go all that often. But if we're going to be in that neck of the woods, we stop. Mandatory. I can't be within 2 miles of it without getting sucked in by an unexplained magnetic force. I have no control over the situation. I am at the Swedes' whims.
As we strolled up to the doors of the giant blue furniture Mecca, it dawned on me: My kid is unusually tall. Which means she's tall enough for Småland! A little fireworks show erupted inside of me. Dill was thrilled at this realization as well. A win for the parents. Bubby enjoys riding in a shopping cart about as much as I like shopping with a preschooler and a baby, but she LOOOOVES playing with other kids. Win for Bubby. And IKEA wins because you're more likely to buy their crap when you're not pulling our hair out and cursing your kids by the end of the shopping trip. So it's a win-win-win.
Michael Scott would be so proud.
Once I signed the rules form, Bubby ran into Småland in barefoot delight and we were off. Smush rode along in the cart as happy as a clam. Dill and I ventured upstairs to the café for some $2 breakfast which we savored. Then, like twitterpated newlyweds, we strolled leisurely through the store, noting how easy and fun it was with just one kid in tow. It was pure bliss. I didn't have to say "No" once the entire time we shopped. We wondered, Why the heck didn't we go more places when it was just Bubs to worry about?
If you only have one child, you'd better take advantage of that and go out in public often. Like, every weekend. Because the more kids you add to the mix, the more circus-like your group becomes at places like church, the grocery store or IKEA, and the less you want to leave your home. Take my word for it.
When our hour was up, I returned to Småland to pick up a happy Bubby. She had colored a picture of some weird rat and hedgehog. She said she played in the ball pit and watched a movie. She talked about it for days afterward. And so did we.
And look, it's been more than a week and I'm STILL talking about it.
Friday, October 15, 2010
3 is a great age to be.
Homemade monogrammed cupcake toppers, cupcakes and frosting.
Well, it's official. My Bubby is no longer 2. Three is the golden number. Funny how that changes overnight, huh? For as long as they can remember, these poor kids have to tell people they're 2, and suddenly they have to change to 3. Like Aibileen said in The Help, "When you little, you only get asked two questions, what's your name and how old you is, so you better get em right."
(By the way, The Help is such an awesome, inspiring book. Go get it from the library or borrow it from someone today if you haven't read it yet. Heck, go buy it; it's just that amazing. I think everyone in America should read it.)
Anyway.
On October 8 we had a little cupcake party for the Bubs. Based on Bubby's reactions, I'd say it was a huge success. I'm not really big on commercial themes, so we had a Pretty Pink Cupcake party. That way it's flexible and varied, plus have you seen how much Elmo plates cost? Too much.
When Bubs came down to breakfast that morning, this is what she saw:
(By the way, The Help is such an awesome, inspiring book. Go get it from the library or borrow it from someone today if you haven't read it yet. Heck, go buy it; it's just that amazing. I think everyone in America should read it.)
Anyway.
On October 8 we had a little cupcake party for the Bubs. Based on Bubby's reactions, I'd say it was a huge success. I'm not really big on commercial themes, so we had a Pretty Pink Cupcake party. That way it's flexible and varied, plus have you seen how much Elmo plates cost? Too much.
When Bubs came down to breakfast that morning, this is what she saw:
A pink table, lime green damask plates and streamers everywhere. She was so excited, she could hardly stand herself.
And she adores balloons, so we got some of those to send home as party favors.
And she adores balloons, so we got some of those to send home as party favors.
The guests arrived at 10:30. First, I painted everyone's fingernails hot pink. Boy, was that fun. I forget how teeny-weeny 3-year-olds' nails are. Then, in my most animated voice, I read the kids the book Pinkalicious. It's an absolutely darling book about what happens if you eat too many pink cupcakes. The girls were riveted. I won't spoil the rest of the book because it is so dang clever and I love the illustrations. Next time you're in Target or Borders, find it and read it. Hilarious.
Next, we opened some gifts.
Next, we opened some gifts.
The loot consisted of Play-Do, Strawberry Shortcake toys, baby doll accessories, Princess Yahtzee, Go Fish and cotton candy.
After the gifts were opened, we played a rousing game of Duck, Duck, Goose while one party-goer took a potty break.
Next, we decorated our own "pinkalicious" cupcakes. This one is Amber's. Bubby and Amber are best friends.
And then we sang and blew out the candles. Hooray!
Finally, the kids played with Bubby's new gifts while the moms partook in some adult chit-chat.
It was a fun day. Bubby was sufficiently worn out and took a great nap later.
Happy Birthday to Me. :)
Well, I can take some credit for this momentous occasion, right?
Monday, October 11, 2010
On my Christmas list.
I try not to be too demanding about stuff, but I really, really, really want this dining set.
Ooh la la.
I am obsessed with all things antique aqua.
By the way, today is my Bubby's 3rd birthday. Can you believe it? I threw her and her little-bitty friends a super-fun pink cupcake party on Friday and I have loads of pictures to show you.
But, the Smush is crying (as always happens when I am about to sit down and blog) so off I go.
Put in a good word with the Man in the Red Suit, mmkay?
Monday, October 4, 2010
Savin' on groceries, big time.
When I was first married, I did not know how to grocery shop. At all. I never made a list, never checked prices, and I had no idea how much of anything to buy. So, like, I'd buy a bag of apples and half of them would be rotten before we'd ever get to them. Or, I'd buy a loaf of bread despite having four already in the freezer.
(Why am I even admitting this?)
I tried keeping up those seat-of-my-pants shopping habits and we pretty much wound up flat broke with a freezer full of bread. Ah, but we were young! And in love! So who cares! Plus, bread is good and very versatile when you're a poor student.
Well, we eventually had a baby and I had to start shopping a little smarter. Bubby was formula-fed, and in case you didn't know, that stuff is expeeeeeeensive. And some kind of switch turns on in your head the instant you have a kid -- you suddenly feel an intense need to be responsible. So I quit filling my cart with useless loaves of bread and started making a list before I embarked on my Monday night trip to Macey's. And the grocery bill came down a fair amount.
Then, we moved to Arizona and I discovered the joy of Super Wal-Mart, which they don't really have in Provo (they do in Orem, but it was kind of far from us so we rarely went). I have a love-hate relationship with Wal-Mart, as you all know. I love the prices, but I hate the rest of it. But since I'm a capitalist on a budget, that's where I get my groceries. Just by getting the generic brand of everything, I save a ton of money. After a while, I got into this groove of going to Wal-Mart and spending about the same thing every time I got groceries: $75. And $75 a week is pretty reasonable for a family of three, right? I figured it was.
Well, that perception changed one day a few months ago. I rolled out of bed early on Saturday, fed the baby and went to Wal-Mart for my weekly grocery trip (notice there is no mention of a shower, because I don't when I am going to Wal-Mart at 6:30 a.m.). I got to the store, filled my cart and headed to the one open check-out line. The shopper in front of me seemed to have a pretty full cart, too. I figured it'd be about five minutes. But it was taking longer than that. I had read every tabloid cover, gum package and candy bar, and she still wasn't done. I started paying attention and realized she was telling the cashier how much everything cost. SERIOUSLY? I got really ticked. Whatever the heck she was doing was taking up a lot of time. Was it even legal? Did she have a gun under her shirt? My ice cream is a puddle, THANKS.
When she finally finished and trolled away with her mile-long receipt, I walked up to the cashier, irked. The cashier began ringing up my items. I had a few cartons of strawberries on the belt. She picked one up and said, "That lady said these are 88 cents each at Basha's, so I'm going to give you the price match." I had no idea what that meant, but I was planning to pay $2 for those so I just smiled dumbly and thanked her. I bounced outta there with a little spring in my step. Eighty-eight cents for strawberries!
I went home and did a little research. Apparently, Wal-Mart matches competitors' prices. Did you know that? I didn't. They don't really advertise it. But it's pretty much awesome and I save a boatload by doing it.
This is my method:
On Wednesday, when I get my local grocery ads in the mail, I sit down and make a list of all the best deals from each store. Usually, a lot of them are produce, which is awesome -- you can never eat enough fruits and veggies. I always look for cereal and bread deals too, since those are pretty pricey.
(No, I don't still have bread in my freezer from my newlywed days, thankyouverymuch.)
I also clip coupons for things I need.
I make my grocery list and dinner menu based on all the deals.
I take my list to Wal-Mart and separate my cart into two halves: Price-matched and regularly-priced items.
When I get to the check-out lane, I put the price-matched items on the belt first and tell the cashier I want to price match. Then, I take out my list and start quoting the prices. Sometimes, they are a little strict and want to know what store the price is from. Since I've categorized them that way on my list, I can always tell them. They have their own ads at the cash register so they can check if they don't believe me.
Now, what do I pay for groceries? Well, last week, I paid $45.72.
Oh, yeeeeah.
And that's how Mom the Intern became a Super Shopper.
(Why am I even admitting this?)
I tried keeping up those seat-of-my-pants shopping habits and we pretty much wound up flat broke with a freezer full of bread. Ah, but we were young! And in love! So who cares! Plus, bread is good and very versatile when you're a poor student.
Well, we eventually had a baby and I had to start shopping a little smarter. Bubby was formula-fed, and in case you didn't know, that stuff is expeeeeeeensive. And some kind of switch turns on in your head the instant you have a kid -- you suddenly feel an intense need to be responsible. So I quit filling my cart with useless loaves of bread and started making a list before I embarked on my Monday night trip to Macey's. And the grocery bill came down a fair amount.
Then, we moved to Arizona and I discovered the joy of Super Wal-Mart, which they don't really have in Provo (they do in Orem, but it was kind of far from us so we rarely went). I have a love-hate relationship with Wal-Mart, as you all know. I love the prices, but I hate the rest of it. But since I'm a capitalist on a budget, that's where I get my groceries. Just by getting the generic brand of everything, I save a ton of money. After a while, I got into this groove of going to Wal-Mart and spending about the same thing every time I got groceries: $75. And $75 a week is pretty reasonable for a family of three, right? I figured it was.
Well, that perception changed one day a few months ago. I rolled out of bed early on Saturday, fed the baby and went to Wal-Mart for my weekly grocery trip (notice there is no mention of a shower, because I don't when I am going to Wal-Mart at 6:30 a.m.). I got to the store, filled my cart and headed to the one open check-out line. The shopper in front of me seemed to have a pretty full cart, too. I figured it'd be about five minutes. But it was taking longer than that. I had read every tabloid cover, gum package and candy bar, and she still wasn't done. I started paying attention and realized she was telling the cashier how much everything cost. SERIOUSLY? I got really ticked. Whatever the heck she was doing was taking up a lot of time. Was it even legal? Did she have a gun under her shirt? My ice cream is a puddle, THANKS.
When she finally finished and trolled away with her mile-long receipt, I walked up to the cashier, irked. The cashier began ringing up my items. I had a few cartons of strawberries on the belt. She picked one up and said, "That lady said these are 88 cents each at Basha's, so I'm going to give you the price match." I had no idea what that meant, but I was planning to pay $2 for those so I just smiled dumbly and thanked her. I bounced outta there with a little spring in my step. Eighty-eight cents for strawberries!
I went home and did a little research. Apparently, Wal-Mart matches competitors' prices. Did you know that? I didn't. They don't really advertise it. But it's pretty much awesome and I save a boatload by doing it.
This is my method:
On Wednesday, when I get my local grocery ads in the mail, I sit down and make a list of all the best deals from each store. Usually, a lot of them are produce, which is awesome -- you can never eat enough fruits and veggies. I always look for cereal and bread deals too, since those are pretty pricey.
(No, I don't still have bread in my freezer from my newlywed days, thankyouverymuch.)
I also clip coupons for things I need.
I make my grocery list and dinner menu based on all the deals.
I take my list to Wal-Mart and separate my cart into two halves: Price-matched and regularly-priced items.
When I get to the check-out lane, I put the price-matched items on the belt first and tell the cashier I want to price match. Then, I take out my list and start quoting the prices. Sometimes, they are a little strict and want to know what store the price is from. Since I've categorized them that way on my list, I can always tell them. They have their own ads at the cash register so they can check if they don't believe me.
Now, what do I pay for groceries? Well, last week, I paid $45.72.
Oh, yeeeeah.
And that's how Mom the Intern became a Super Shopper.
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