Certainity. A Luxury We Can No Longer Afford.

This has been reposted from my American Mom in London blog, because yes, it's just that important to me.

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Shortly following the start of the worldwide economic meltdown, Mike turned to me one morning and asked, "But how does all this affect us?"

("Us" being folks with no immediate ties to the banking industry going about their daily lives.)

At the time, life around us hadn't changed much...

The London's streets were littered with just as many tourists as the day before. The shop lines on Kensington and Oxford Street were just as atrocious as ever, and the previous day our grocery store had run out of fresh bread before I could get there. It was business as usual.

Furthermore, we're decades away from retirement, well-educated, and completely debt-free. I assured Mike that we really don't need to worry, but his question still struck me as the "Gee, what else can go wrong?" of sitcom folly...

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What I'm about to tell you has been wallowing in the pit of my stomach and consuming my every thought.

I've avoiding talking about it until now, even with my family, because it's too difficult. Too complicated. Too personal.

When I started sobbing at Mass last weekend... while on the bus... and standing in line at the post office... and basically, any moment when I get five seconds to myself, I figured it was time to let it out.

So here, goes...

Our visas expire in 27 days and Mike's contract still hasn't been renewed.

Note, this is not to say that it wasn't renewed. Only that it hasn't, and his company seems to be in no rush. (Such the British way...)

On the other hand, the company has voiced on several occasions that it would LOVE to keep him on staff. His co-workers love him and are shocked that he hasn't been scooped up yet. However, the funding for the next project hasn't been secured and unless it happens within in the next four weeks, they can't...

Thank you, worldwide economic meltdown.

Everything could still change on a dime... er, ten pence, but for now, Mike has started job hunting again and when our visas expire, we'll have no choice but to move back-- uninsured, jobless, and homeless. (i.e. hobos)

This may come as a shock to most of our friends and family.

Why the hell would we turn our lives upside down, drain our bank accounts, sell our stuff, our home, and our car, and start all over for essentially six months of employment?

The answer is simple. I love my husband and it's great job. Not to mention, it's was an opportunity that we just couldn't pass up.

When he accepted the position, it was with the tacit understanding that it would be his for as long as he wanted it. We'd have a chance to see Europe, live abroad for a while, and build back our savings.

Of course, at the time, who could have foreseen the collapse of every single financial market in the world. (Certainly not the people "in charge"...)

We were just getting settled-- creating routines, desensitizing ourselves to the banking system, making wonderful new friends...

We very much want to stay, especially after everything we went through to get here. (Those of you closest to us, you know the stories. No need to rehash them here...)

As difficult as it has been to "adjust", the thought of moving overseas again, so soon and so suddenly, is exactly why I haven't slept in over three weeks.

Please don't tell me "It's going to be okay" or "We'll be fine". I won't be able to stand it. Not yet.

South Beach Not Working For You? Try London

In cleaning out my "Drafts" folder this week, I found a TON of gems-- quippy one-liners, topic ideas, posts that I started... even ones that I completed, but then completely forgot to post.

Maybe I'm not such lousy blogger after all? Hmm...

Here's one that I wrote (and forgot about) over a month ago. Enjoy!

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For two years, I've struggled with losing the baby weight.

(Can you still call it that when my "baby" sasses like a pouty teenage girl?)

I've made resolutions to workout and eat right. I reacquainted myself with the gym and joined fitness boot camp, and still nothing really changed...

I was miserable and it showed in my half-ass wardrobe. Nothing ever fit right since I was convinced that this was all "only temporary".

Finally, I decided to love my big happy self and just BUY the larger size already-- shirts that buttoned, underpants that covered the expanse of my rear, and jeans that fit... comfortably... zipped and on my waist.

I even did one better. In our mad purging and packing to move to London, I donated seventeen huge lawn bags filled to capacity with old clothes.

The rest... because yes, there WAS more... was given away to a family friend who is about to graduate college and in need of "appropriate work attire". I felt good about myself!

Well, you know that saying about how giving away your baby stuff is a surefire way to get pregnant again?

No, I'm not pregnant again.

What I'm trying to say is that the same goes for your "skinny clothes"...

Who knew that the stress of moving overseas, followed by walking everywhere and carrying a toddler... and his stroller... and all of his stuff... up and down the steps to the Tube is THE BEST WORKOUT ever...

In spite of my addiction to buttery scones and access to delicious fresh baked breads, the inches have melted away effortlessly. Seriously. I have done nothing... Well, except give up my car.

Hmmm, maybe I should have done that years ago?

This is all great except that I'm back to my original predicament...

NOTHING IN MY CLOSET FITS ANYMORE!

I probably should be thrilled about the prospect of going shopping again. However, I should remind you that I live in the second most expensive city in the world. Upping my daily pastry intake would be less of a financial hit.

Oh, and I hate shopping. Wah!

The American Beef Industry: Garbage In, Garbage Out.

Times are definitely gloomy. We all need to cut back, tighten our belts, stop eating all that fancy, expensive food... like grass.

Tales from Home Shopping

I've told you before what home shopping junkies my parents are. They call their finds "economical" and "practical". I simply call them "compulsive" and "random". You never know what you'll find squirreled away all over the house...

For instance, I happened upon this item while rummaging under the stairs the other day...

I'm sure it's a brilliant invention and I'm sure it's revolutionized grilling as we know it, but I just wonder how much grilled chicken my two empty-nester parents go through to justify a whole "thingy-ma-bobber"...

Okay, so I DID move back in with them last week and I'm sure was all the justification they needed to make several new purchases yet to be discovered.

As if they need any excuse... just ask my mom's tacky funky collection of "diamonite" jewelry, the unopened boxes of SpaceBags, and their recently upgraded FoodSaver.

Oh, and of course, the Tony Little Gazelle....

All acquired when my sisters and I weren't looking and least suspected it.

This afternoon, while they were at work, I went ahead and blocked QVC...

Shhh!

Grief, In No Particular Order

When I first told my parents that Hubby was interviewing for his new job, my mom slipped into shock/denial right then and there...

"Mom, if all goes well with Hubby's interview tomorrow, we may be moving to London..."

"Oh. Well, before you go, could you return that skirt I gave you? I saw it in your closet--"

"Sure, but did you hear what I said?"

"I never see you wear it and I want it back."

"Okay, you can have it, but Mom--"

"I paid a lot of money for that skirt and--"

"MOM, SHUT ABOUT THE STUPID SKIRT. WE ARE MOVING TO LONDON..."

Then, there was the short-lived "bargaining phase" of suggesting that my son and I continue living here while Hubby lived over there until he decides if this is "really the job for him"... (umm, NO and yes, it is)

A few days later, they started making pithy remarks like, "This is not a time to be happy about anything." That same week, I decided to pack up the house early and move in with them once Hubby left to start working.

Call me crazy, but I just wasn't up for keeping the house immaculate and show-worthy, while still packing and taking care of my son all... by... myself.

Excited that we would be staying with them for a whole month before leaving for good, they perked up a bit. That is, until three days ago when my dad, who is usually the nicest guy in the world, went off on a passive aggressive tirade that quickly switched to a full on aggressive tirade about how we should have taken his advice on storing our furniture...

Even though it was a mere three days before we were set to move everything out of the house and there's nothing I could do about it, but whatever...

We both knew it wasn't really about the furniture, but it still ended badly.

My next door neighbor warned me this would happen, so I knew it was just a matter of time before they would get to the "anger stage" of their grief. I just hoped it would be after we left, and not right before I was to move out of my house and into theirs. I also especially hoped that they would take it out on someone else and not me during the most frazzled stages of this move.

He blew up. I blew up, then cried, called my sister, told her all about it, and cried again. This clearly wasn't the way I wanted to part ways with my family.

In general, my parents have been great through this entire process of packing and moving. They've been very supportive and super helpful-- coming over to help pack, bringing us meals, and such. They even positively insisted that we store the bulk of our things at their house to save money, so this wasn't the way they wanted to part ways either.

My mom called an hour later to smooth things over. She listened to my side of the story and offered to come over and help out anyway I needed.

Both of my parents showed up later that evening baring the two biggest suitcases I've ever seen in my life. They had stopped to buy them for us on their way over because apparently that is how my dad says "sorry".

Everything Has a Price... Literally.

Okay, so our first garage sale was less than fabulous...

After posting the larger items on craigslist and taking the baby stuff to a resale shop, we made a good chunk of change. Unless, of course, you factor in the cost for ads in the local papers, signage, and all of the time and effort it took to price and organize everything only to sit around all day...

The whole thing was a huge waste of time. I have no idea why garage sales are supposedly such a great idea... Or is that just a suburban myth?

As in you're lead to believe that "oh so many" folks will be knocking on your door an hour early because there are people that are just that hard-core about garage sales, when in reality.... everyone secretly loathes them. I mean, I do not personally know one person who enjoys spending their weekends pawing through other people's junk. Not one.

In other news, the house went on the market on Tuesday and we've been shooed out of our home several times already for showings that may or may not have been happening. I guess that's a good sign, except I wish we could caveat that with "No looky-loos. Serious buys ONLY"...

I am already so fed up with vacating my home every time the phone rings that yesterday, I just flat out refused to leave. We stood out in the yard while a real estate agent, a father, and his 2- or 3-year old son looked through the house.

The boy immediately ran to one of my son's toys and started playing with it while his dad and the agent toured, commenting on the slate floors and crown molding. The entire visit took all of 5 minutes, while we were asked to reserve 2 hours for it. That's 115 minutes I could have spent...

A) packing
B) packing

...or,

C) PACKING....

When it was time to leave, the boy had to be forcibly extracted kicking and screaming, "I want to stay! I want to stay! I want to STAY!" I slyly commented to his dad, "You know, that can be arranged... "

However, there is ONE bright side to all this. Hubby's been so super on the ball about keeping the house pristine and beautiful (in spite of the toddler that lives here too...) It's nice to see him be the one so tense and stressed out about the house for a change. I am also loving the clean and efficient household. Laundry gets folded and put away promptly, dishes are done on the spot, and the trash and recycling is removed three or four times daily... at least. No more dirty socks on the bedroom floor or random little piles of papers and wadded up tissues that he'll "get to... later"...

I should have put my house on the market ages ago. (HA!)

What a bust!

Moving out of the country? Have too much crap stuff? Can't take any of it with you?

Have a garage sale!!!

How perfectly logical and possibly profitable... "You have so much REALLY good stuff. You'll make SOOOOO much money," all of my friends told me.

So, why am I blogging... ALONE... on my front lawn, still surrounded by all of my crap... er, really good stuff? (deep sigh)

Our last "busybody browser" came by an hour ago. He told me I was charging too much for a tripod and then proceeded to list everything else that I'm doing WRONG with this sale... everything from the location (umm, not much I can do there...) to the time of year.

"This," he said pointing to all the merchandise still piled up on my lawn, on my driveway, and in my garage, "is NOT normal for this time of day....". Then he left without the tripod that I said he could have for a $1...

Thanks for nothing... jerk.

Home Sweet Home

It's strange and somewhat disconcerting to look at your house through the eyes of potential buyers...

Everyone thinks they have good taste, but thanks to pretty much any show on the TLC network, we all know otherwise. Of course, you start with the best of intentions when you buy a house. (We certainly did.) You start off with a "big" empty house, then you purchase furniture and art work. You inherit some patio furniture and buy a grill. You talk about renovating and replacing...then life gets in the way.

Next thing you know, you have a toddler who leaves crumbs on the sofas, scuffs the hardwood floors, and spills milk on the carpet. So, what's the point of replacing any of it anytime before he leaves for college?

It was L- O- V-E the first time we set foot in our house. The beautiful hardwood and slate floors, the spacious yard, the enormous closet in the master bath, and the charming French doors leading into the study... there was a lot to love, but it still was no where near our "dream house".

For starters, the water heater had to be replaced two weeks after we signed the mortgage. Then, there was the matter of the hideous wall paper and borders throughout the house, and the broken ladder up to the attic. Ugh!

We took down the border and repainted in the study right away, but it's four years later and we still haven't quite gotten around to doing the same thing to the bathrooms or the kitchen. (We never replaced the ladder up to the attic either...)

These days, we hardly notice it anymore-- the wallpaper, not the ladder. Perhaps we've even grown to admire it as one of the house's little quirks. That is, until it was time to put in on the market again...

We can't help it. We look around and all we think of are the good times we've had here. It's the first house we ever owned together and the place where we brought our son home. It's where he learned how to crawl and eventually how to walk, then run. We think about how proud we are to call it ours.

We were initially attracted to this house because the open floor plan is great for parties, and we've certainly thrown our fair share of them... There have been so many happy occasions that we've celebrated within these walls with friends who never know when it's time to say "good-night". It was okay, though. We certainly didn't mind opening "just one more bottle of wine" and keeping them entertained late into the night.

It's difficult to separate all of that from what a potential buyer only sees...

The hardwood floors that ought be refinished, and the hideous (and now, painfully outdated) wallpaper that goes floor to ceiling in the kitchen.

Some months ago, when we were looking to move to a bigger house (but not necessarily "across the pond"), I asked a real estate agent to evaluate our home and provide some pointers on things to update, renovate, or just get rid of in order to fetch a better selling price.

I feverishly cleaned, polished, and picked up before she came over, and her only words of advice...

De-clutter. Hmphf!

home, sweet home

Our New To Do List

No time to be sad,

We've got many things to do.
Like do "hide-and-seek".

Run around outside,
and other big boy stuff like
playing catch the ball!

Today, we're going
to the ZOO! How great is that!
Hope it doesn't rain....

Com'on Dad! Mom, too!
I like having you at home.
Birthday wish come true!

Umm, did I mention to you that my son is happy to have BOTH of his parents at home all day? Scratch that. He is OVER THE MOON GA-GA about it. The tyke wakes up all smiles everyday and all the time. He loves playing with Mommy and Daddy.... all...day...long.

We have been joking that Hubby losing his job all of a sudden was our son's super secret birthday wish come true.

I just knew he blew out those candles a little too well...

The kid obviously doesn't know what it really means when Daddy and Mommy both unemployed and I don't plan on explaining it to him anytime soon. He's two. All he knows is that...

1. ....there's always a playmate!
   
2. ...with all of his activities cut, we're to-ge-ther... all... the... time. Bonus!
   
3. No more going out to eat means no more strange high chairs and being on best behavior
4. No more shopping for Mommy means no more sitting in carts for hours on end
   
5. ... No more dressing rooms
6. ... No more "We'll leave in a sec, Honey"
   
7. ... No more "just browsing"

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Being a kid is so much FUN!

Spreading the News...

Thank you for all of your words of encouragement and support in response to my last post! You guys are the best-est Internet bloggy friends ever.

Not a lot of people in my "real" life know that I write this blog. I like it that way, since they make good blog fodder and I can talk smack about them all I want.

Since there are a few close friends who know about, and to my shock, actually read my blog (Hi, guys!), I jotted a quick note apprising them of the situation before I posted the other day...

I'm not clear on what the proper etiquette is in this type of situation, but I'm sure first hearing about your friend's firing on his wife's blog (as opposed to hearing it directly) is a bit off-putting.

It's not exactly the kind of news you gleefully shout from the rooftops. On the other hand, it's also not the kind of news you "hide and don't tell anyone about" either, only to have it gossiped behind your back. That makes it seem like you're embarrassed by it, which we aren't.

It felt too awkward to personally call and tell everyone about it. Plus neither of us was in the mood to rehash the story over and over again, so I opted to send a quick and simple e-mail.

Just as crass, perhaps? Oh well.

I say that it is was a "quick note," but it really wasn't. I actually thought long and hard about how exactly to word it. I mean, we want our friends to know what's going on, but in a way that didn't beg for forced sympathy or drama. (Besides, I'm more comfortable with sarcasm and jabs anyway.)

We know a couple that sends "poor us" e-mails for every little thing and I'm sorry, but it is uh-nnoy-ing. We didn't to be those people, but we also don't want to hide the truth either. Your husband being fired when you're a SAHM does suck A LOT and, there's no way to sugar-coat and cherry-top that.

After a night of letting things marinate (and allowing the initial shock to wear off), we were actually okay with it by the time I was ready to send my note. Hubby took some time to process and lick his wounds, but he woke up early the next day and started updating his resume, filing unemployment, and researching companies. (whew-hew!) Turns out he has a lot of great contacts in his industry and some reliable leads, so we're really excited about the opportunities this opens up.

As for our son, he is absolutely THRILLED to have not one, but TWO stay-at-home parents. Good. Hopefully, he won't notice when we have to cut Mom's Day Out and Gymboree out of his schedule...

It took a few tries to write that e-mail to our friends, but I eventually come up with something light-hearted, to the point, and funny... or at least I thought so. Hopefully, they did too.

Their responses and phone calls were all very supportive and encouraging as well. They're the best, too!

Yesterday

When I heard my cell phone ring, I figured it was just my husband checking on us. It was around one in the afternoon, so he must have just finished his lunch, just as we were finishing up ours. So, my hands were full at that moment.

When he called again two minutes later, I thought he was just being a pain. Nothing could have prepared me for what he has to say when I picked up...

"I've just been fired."

Those words lingered in the digital eather as my world spun out of control. Just a little.

Just that morning I razzed him for running late to work... again. We talked about being home for dinner and buying some more memory for our computers. Two days before, we were talking to our best friends about their upcoming wedding in Santorini and what we were planning to wear to it. We also had that same worn-out debate about buying a new house- should we, shouldn't we.

I had to mail one last thank you card for a belated birthday gift to our son. I planned to take him to pick out his very own potty chair after his nap. I just took him to get yet another over-priced haircut at that kiddie salon in anticipation of doing his two-year-old portraits this week. Hubby and I have reservations at a swanky new restaurant this coming weekend. My parents are baby-sitting.

These were just a few of the things that became a blur right then and there, as I held my breath and patiently waited for Huddy to tell me their reasoning. Not that they are legally required to provide one, and they didn't.

None of this made any sense. It seems that spite of killing himself (figuratively) to make their ridiculous deadlines, all sorts of glowing praise from immediate co-workers, and a generally cheerful attitude, they let him go with little more explanation than, "Eh, we just felt like it." (paraphrased)

Once my son had gone down for his nap, I was stunned by the horrible sinking feeling. I wanted to cry, but didn't, knowing it just wouldn't do any good. Come to think if it, I really didn't know what I was supposed to do.

Call our financial planner. Don't call our financial planner. Call my parents. No, don't call my parents. They'll just ask if we want to move in with them. Definitely, don't call the 'rents right now.... I settled on eating an entire bag of cookies leftover from my son's huge birthday bash. Oh God! the bill for his huge birthday bash?! I need more cookies...

The Joy of Giving

Every year, I promise to mind our spending during the holidays...

Then, I find a trendy necklace that I know my hipster sister will like, a stylish sweater for my stylish brother-in-law, or an awesome train table for our son on Craig's List. Considering all of his gifts are burning a hole in the back of my closet, it's more than I wanted to spend but less than a brand new one... Sigh!

I know money and things don't buy happiness, but giving a gift that you know will be loved is such a joy!

So, today I'm grateful for all the things that are priceless (yet can be purchased with my MasterCard... or so their clever ads will have you believe).

Basic Supply and Demand

While watching the news today, I was shocked to learn that the price of groceries and DIAPERS (!!!) along with heating and energy will be going up in the coming months...

Up to 7% for the diapers, they say. Okay, that probably seems minuscule... unless you've ever had to buy them in the quantities that I do. My son even went up a size this week.

Somehow, the prospect of potty training seems less scary now. Hmm....

I was contemplating how we could possibly cut back even MORE on our expenses when I heard something in the kitchen...

Yep, it was a week's worth of cereal falling all over my kitchen floor.

Now I'm not going to say it was Hubby who very foolishly left an opened box of cereal at toddler reach, but I'm not going to deny either...

By the way, my son was pants-less by choice. Perhaps, this means we can cut down on clothing and laundry. That would save money, right?

Nah, we'll only have to put it towards the increasing cost of subsequently uneaten cereal.

(P.S. It was him )

Addicts Go To Meetings. I Shop.

Kohl's, Carter's, Gymboree, Oshosh B'gosh, and The Children's Place, too...

I used the "additional 20% off" coupons at all these stores and more. I walked the outlet mall, found the Labor Day pre- and post-sales, and took advantage of "free shipping".

I've stocked my son's entire fall wardrobe with things on sale and too fabulous to pass up.

I told my husband, "I don't have a shopping problem, I have a saving problem (*wink*)

It didn't matter. He took the credit cards anyway.

photo by namolio

Seize the Sale

I spent $200 at Kohl's yesterday, which was $200 more than I should have been spending anywhere... especially at a store that I'm not too fond of.

I get a flier from them touting an "additional 20% percent" or "everything in the store 1/2 off" about once a week, but am hesitant to go because it's always a zoo. A messy, dirty, disorganized zoo.

Remember that episode of Sex in the City when the girls were in L.A. and Samantha took Carrie all the way to the Valley to buy a fake Fendi bag. Then, Carrie just couldn't buy one, because none of the purses looked very special piled in boxes in the trunk of that beat-up car. Well, that's how I feel at Kohl's...

Nothing looks very special when you have to sift for it amongst the slinky see-through juniors duds and the 3X tops cramped together on the 75-80% off rack....

...or you have to look for it on the floor than hasn't seen a vacuum cleaner since the store opened...

FIVE years ago.

The one thing Kohl's has going for it is that it's CHEAP. Having to live on a tight budget, I'm not above wearing $5 off-brand T-shirts (in public, no less). It's just that much less painful when they get ruined with flying pasta sauce or greasy diaper cream. Replacing soiled shirts is precisely what I was doing at Kohl's on this day.

As luck would have it, I found what I was looking for right away and was ready to leave when I noticed how quietly and contently my son was playing with his dog, Blue. He was fed, diapered, and seated in his stroller... Now is the moment!

Shopping post-motherhood is much like feeding time on the Serengeti. You never know when you're next golden shopping opportunity will trot along, so you lunge, grab, and devour every last bit of it for as long as you can.

Opportunities to hunt your prey may be far between. Sometimes you have to wait an entire season before you can hunt again...

It takes a great deal of patience, but you get used to it, even if you're still wearing last year's catch. That's just life on the plains.

My son is usually all about "exerting his will" on our shopping trips- climbing out of the grocery cart, pulling things off shelves (putting them back in the wrong place), or trying to run out of the store. It seems that all the alone time in the sandbox earlier in the day wore him out and he was happy humming to himself in the stroller. I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by.

Immediately, my mind was racing with everything I needed to get...

"Hey, didn't our friends say that they're having a girl. Surely, there will be a baby shower for them. I'll need a gift. LOOK! baby clothes are on sale. I'll just get these two outfits..."

"I should get another pair of capri pants for my girls' trip next month..."

"Ooooh! A pretty pink tea set. That would be a great Christmas gift for either of my nieces. I should get it... Is there anyone having a birthday soon? I should stock up on more toys to give as gifts..."

"Wow! Boys' fall clothes are 50% OFF. FALL? But, it's still a 100-zillion degrees here. Oh well! I should probably stock up anyway. Four new fall outfits for my son, it is!"

"Oh! I need to get some new photo frames for the living room... Is that mirror on sale?"

... and that's how they get you.

photo by CarolineO

Post Brought To You by IKEA

I get why people don't like IKEA, okay. It's crowded, overwhelming, and don't you dare go there on a weekend...

Still, I come back again and again... no doubt, lured in by its Swedish siren song and catalogs.

It's like journeying to a strange principality, with its own rules and customs, both foreign and odd to those who didn't pick up the guidebook... or like reading signs... or following directions.

You know that you haven't left the country, but somehow you're no longer in your native land. Everything is written in a language that uses lots of ö's and you can eat for about 50 cents (but only if you like hot dogs).

Upon entering the store, you are greeted and presented with a map, but that's all the help you're getting. Just hope you don't have a question. Not answering questions is just one of the ways they keep their costs down and pass the savings on to you. *smile*

But don't let the low, low prices fool you. I very seldom walk away from that store with all my milk money intact. They didn't even have to bully it out of me. I just hand it over freely once I see how quaint life could be in 377 sq. feet. While we are not confined to 377 sq feet (THANK GOD), it seems to inspire me to fill all 2,000 sq feet that we do live in... with particle board, polyester, and plastic.

The one thing IKEA has going for it is that it's extremely kid-friendly, which I like... A LOT. Its spacious family restrooms, childcare, designated play areas throughout the store, extra wide elevators, and tantrum-friendly aisles almost makes up for the mass confusion at their lousy "self-checkout". Almost.

While it's not exactly where I would go for a quick and easy shopping trip, it's not like any shopping trip with my child is exactly quick or easy... so basically it's as good as anywhere else for me.

It is, however, one of the more amusing places in our area to take my toddler. I don't have to worry about him doing too much damage and if I happen to come home with a set colorful plastic plates with matching bowls and cups, well then, as the Swedes say, "utmärkt!" (translation: "great!")

I'm Going!

Today, I purchased a plane ticket and registered for BlogHer '07! (Yea!!!)

When I first approached my blogging-partner-in-crime with the idea of attending the conference together, I was only half serious and only half expecting her to go for it. Well, so much for that...

A week later, her sweet connections secured us an awesome hotel rate for the weekend (thank you! thank you!) and we were exchanging flight itineraries by e-mail. Next thing I knew, I was divulging my credit card info and clicking "purchase"!

I'm actually really excited about attending, but once my friend gave me an estimate on our total costs including travel and incidentals... HOLY MOLY! I felt a HUGE sinking feeling of guilt/doubt over spending the money. I mean, there's soooooo much other stuff that money could be going towards... like, ummm... replacing that chintzy tv tray that's been masquerading as a night stand in my bedroom or, hmm, I don't know, my son's college fund...

Also, since I quit my job, I've been reluctant to to blow lots of money on myself... For my son, anything. On the house, of course. Gifts for my husband, in heartbeat. For me, not so much.

Why? Because as a stay-at-home mom, I still feel guilty about not contributing to our family financially. I know. I know. I contribute in other "far nobler" ways by taking care of our son, making sure we have friends, and running our household, thereby eliminating the cost of childcare, rent-a-friend, and maid service (because you better believe my house would be a total sty if I had to work too...)

My husband, on the other hand, does not have one iota of resentment about being the family's "bread winner". It helps that he generally enjoys what he does, but he also finds that he works better knowing the everything at home is taken care of. He always reminds me that what I'm doing IS far more benefical in a ways that money just can't buy and I DO deserve to take some time and resources for myself and my hobbies (I know, he's a saint!), but still... It's been a leap for me to think of it as "our money".

But as he put it, "What the point of making money if we can't enjoy it?" and " It IS our money."

So here I GO!

Say "Cheese"

I want a new camera. We can't afford a new camera. Well, at least not the one I'd like to own...

Ever since my Dad showed up with a new Nikon D80, I've been feeling some serious camera-envy. While I aspire to be a great photographer (one day) and will therefore require super fancy, enviable equipment (one day), I resigned myself to the fact that the pocket sized digital we already own would simply have to do.

That is, until this week when it BROKE ...

NO, I did not break it on purpose. In fact, it's breakage was completely unprovoked. There was neither dropage nor dunking in water. The battery was fully charged and the memory card was functioning well enough for me to transfer photos onto the laptop.

Clueless, I took it to my local Best Buy where I was told that I was better off replacing rather than repairing this particular camera. In the end, the expense would be the same. (Yippee! Validation)

Fortunately, the hubby concurred, which only left me with "oh, but which one to pick!".

I would LOVE to have a sleek, new professional camera like my Dad, but not too fond of the idea of having yet ONE MORE thing to carry around. If you haven't noticed, really, really nice professional cameras aren't exactly compact...and they require ALOT of accessories. Another drawback was having to worry about my expensive camera getting stolen or broken. I can guard my kid or the camera with my dear life, but not both... and, um sorry, the kid wins. He's cuter.

I would ideally like something that I could just toss in the diaper bag and not worry too much about, although I suspect that probably how my current camera met it's fate. Also, size takes away from quality and speed, which is necessary in capturing the antics of... say, a TODDLER with lighting fast speed but a lack of interest in "doing that again" for the slow ass camera.

I talked it over with the hubby and we finally settled on this one. It's a little bulkier, but has some nice advanced features.... and, the best part, I found it on sale.

photo by pgirolami

And I give sass for free

FOUND: This rockin' tee comes in blue. Soooo tempting, if only it wasn't also $20 + shipping...

...and yes, I consider that a lot to pay for something that my son will probably outgrow by next week.

I credit Self-Made Mom for pointing me in the direction of HonestBaby.com, maker of this as well as other clever tees for babies. It's motto? "Celebrating the imperfect journey of parenting." How can you not love that?

My other favs are "I'm not a performing monkey" and "I heard Einstein was a late talker".

Where would we even put a baby?

Every few weeks or so, I go through a Clean Sweep phase and everything in my house is classified into three categories: "keep in place", "toss", or "store in large plastic bin with a lid".

Personally, I'm a BIG fan of toss. I absolutely abhor piles of useless crap, but you'd never know it judging by the state of my home.

That's the problem with living with a sentimental pack rat who refused to acknowledge that the dusty, old CPU sitting in the garage is... NEVER... GOING... TO... WORK... AGAIN or that he wouldn't be caught dead in that kimono, which he keeps just because it reminds him of his semester abroad...

BUT, I love my husband and he lives here too, so I let him hoard away... within reason, of course. Instead, I try to focus on the things I can control... ahem, everything else.

The other day, I announced my plans to put away the stuff our son has outgrown, like soft rattles, teeters, burp clothes, and bottles. My husband sheepishly asked if I was planning to donate them or save them for the "next one"...

Ah, the "next one".... There's a landmine if ever there was one.

In the last few months, this has been a topic of great debate and a point of interest among everyone we know. "When are you going to have another one?" I guess it isn't it enough that I've given my dad the boy he always wanted (he had three daughters) and named him after my father-in-law (I) and my husband (II). Nope, nope, nope. The people what MORE BABIES!!!

My husband was adopted when my mother-in-law (unbeknownst to her) was already preggo with my brother-in-law. Nine months later, instant playmate...

While my mother-in-law, decades later, still has no idea how she survived, my husband claims to have nothing but fond memories of having a buddy so close in age (and living in such close proximity) and he wants much of the same for our son. Well, expect for the "nine months apart" business... First of all, that ship has loooooong sailed and more importantly... um, eew.

I remind him (and my in-laws) that all of the horrible stories about "little brother" as a child are not exactly encouraging me to go along with this little hair-brained scheme. Yet, my husband insists that it was "just awesome"...

Meanwhile, I'm having a tough enough time keeping up with our one child. I can't even think about two... especially, this soon! I know people do it all the time, but from what I've surmised from the chatter at Gymboree... the only child is a joy not to be taken for granted nor given up so soon. Now that our son has reached the fun, frenetic, but fragile state of toddlerhood, Hubby is more likely to agree, but the topic still comes up on a regular basis.

So, I've made a deal with him. Let's buy a bigger house and then we can talk about having another baby. While we are content with where we currently live, there is no more room in mi casa, what with the random computer parts and memorabilia stocked in every available nook and cranny...

....and there is no way Jose that I will be moving while I'm pregnant. NOT negotiable.

We can't afford a new house right now... Well, at least, not one that we would want to be in for a while, which would be the point of moving. The way I see it, if we can't afford more room, we can't afford more babies... Conversation over.