Coupons

For years, I was not what you would call a coupon cutter. I just didn't want to bother with the hassle of it. So, I shopped at Wal-mart and felt generally good about things. A few months ago, my sister introduced me to grocerysmarts.com. (It's only available in a few Western states so far.)

It works like this: You purchase the Sunday paper with all the coupons. You're supposed to purchase as many copies as there are people in your house. I was a little daunted by the thought of buying seven copies of the paper, so right now I buy four. (The idea being that when you find a really good deal on items you use frequently, you stock up so you don't have to buy the item when it's full price.)

Every Sunday, I separate the coupons from the paper and date them. Then I file them away. The night before I go grocery shopping, I visit grocerysmarts.com. The fabulous people who run this site (I don't know who they are, but I love them) post all of the sales for local stores. They tell you which sale items are really good deals. Then, they post coupons for each sale item and in which paper it was featured. You go back to your file of coupons, cut only the ones you need, and you're off to the store. I'm learning to plan our dinner menus around what's on sale, and purchase staple items when they are on sale so I'll have them when I need them. It really is genius.

The one hitch is that Wal-mart doesn't really do sales. They have low prices and they will usually accept coupons, but they never have doorbuster sales on groceries. So, I decided to abandon my beloved Wal-mart for the most part (and I really do love it there, so please don't post comments about how evil you think Wal-mart is) and start shopping at another local store.

This week, one of our local stores is having a huge sale. When you buy 10 of the participating sale items (doesn't have to be 10 of the same thing), you get $5 back. I spent a ton of time cutting coupons (more than I ever have before, actually) and saved even more on top of the sale. I got a lot of stuff for $63.39, with a total savings of $63.10.

I'm sure a lot of people have spent less and saved more, but I was pretty proud of myself. It's a strange kind of high... this coupon stuff. I love handing my coupons over to the cashier and watching the total go down, down, down as she scans them. Plus, But it's a great feeling to save money on our monthly grocery bill and know that I'm also stocking up on things we'll use in the future.

Nothing says love...

Ladies,

Not sure what you want for Valentine's Day?

Are you thinking that the normal chocolates and flowers just won't do it for you this year?

Then, consider asking your husband to get a vasectomy.

Because, really, nothing says "I love you" like a vasectomy. (It also says, "I agree that the thought of having any more children is bone-chilling terrifying, so therefore, I'm willing to undergo this potentially painful procedure.")

My husband got his yesterday and let me tell you, I'm in love.

Love, ladies. Pure love.

"We love to walk in our spandex shorts and think about our fertility."

"Oh, honey, I'm so glad you got a vasectomy."

(Actual drawings from the brochure my husband was given.)

Skiing and a new boyfriend

T went skiing for the first time last Saturday. A has plans to take all three of the older kids and since T was the most enthusiastic about it, he got to go first. I was a bit nervous that my husband would come home with tales of T whining the whole time, but thankfully, both had a great time. Apparently, T kept saying at the top of his lungs, "I love skiing!!"

Perfecting the "pizza slice"

N has found a new boyfriend. She began hugging him and holding his hand last night, so we decided we should document the relationship.

I love how she looks like she's tentatively approaching him in this picture. "Hey there, Superman, don't you wanna get to know me?"

"Aww, Superman. I love you."

P.S. Thank you, thank you for all the comments about my Sunday problem. I cried and cried as I read them. I feel like I have new strength in my arsenal to try and deal with this situation in the best way possible. Love you all.

Sundays

After church a few days ago, I said to my husband, "I'm tired of dreading Sundays."

For months, I haven't exactly gotten much out of church. Between the babies climbing all over me and my older children speaking at volumes otherwise reserved for the schoolyard playground, my stress levels during sacrament meeting are not fabulous. And then we usually spent the next two hours holding babies, walking around the church with babies, and trying to keep babies entertained. To say that I was looking forward to when they would go into nursery would be a bit of an understatement.

Adding to that is the fact that we don't know very many people in our new ward. Everyone is super nice, but I really just feel like we go to church, wrestle with children, and go home. It's kind of depressing. And a few months ago, our bishop mentioned that callings were "in the works." At the beginning of the year, we got called to teach T's class in the Primary—seven four year-old kids.

So now we wrestle with our children in sacrament meeting, drop them off at their classes (a couple of times since A2 isn't exactly loving nursery yet), and then go wrestle with other people's children. And here's where the real struggle has come in lately. Our Primary is giant. There are four classes of four year-olds. Almost every age group has at least three classes. Each class has two teachers. It is very warm and loud and claustrophic in the Primary room, which isn't helped much by small children climbing all over me. I can barely handle my own children doing it. What am I supposed to do about other people's children?

I know this must seem very whiny, but I'm really in need of some help here. I want to enjoy this calling—really I do. I love listening to the kids sing and I love seeing what their little brains come up with next. But the whole effect of church these days is very tense, very stressful, and not at all conducive to the Spirit. And of course, we're at the 1 pm timeslot this year. Of course.

I used to get after my husband for not having a good attitude about going to church. I told him that even though it was fairly awful, maybe having a positive attitude might help. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to. I will keep trying to have a positive attitude and look for small ways to feel the Spirit, but I'm really struggling with it.

Next week, we get to speak in sacrament meeting. Now that should be interesting.

Technology

Like most babies, the twins are fascinated by gadgets. Specifically, they love our iPhones with a deep and abiding love. If they see my phone, they will lunge for it and fight over it. Until recently, they both would just push the home button repeatedly, getting excited to see whichever picture I had as my wallpaper. But in the past few weeks, A2 has become more adept with it, and I realized that his approach perfectly showcases their different personalities.

When N gets a hold of my phone, she pushes the home button again and again and holds it up to her ear to "talk." She loves to hold it and play with it, but that's about it. And that's N to a T. She runs and plays and flirts and never sits still for longer than two minutes.


A2, however, pushes the home button, and then slowly, so slowly, drags his little finger across the screen to unlock it. After that, it's a field day for a toddler. So many boxes! What do they all do?! I could call China if I wanted to! And his personality is just like that. A2 loves to play just as much as his sister, but he is also patient and quiet, figuring things out in his head.

As crazy as it is to have two the same age, I do love watching them learn different things and develop their personalities.

Books

Books.

Cracking one open for the very first time and breathing in that new book smell. Nothing like it in the world. You know how some books just suck you in and you literally cannot stop reading? (Ok, maybe you could, but you don't want to.)

Last night, I finished just such a book—The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It's not a book that I would normally think would be in the "can't put it down" category. It starts out slowly and quietly, but it wasn't long before I was hooked on this very compelling story about maids in the South in the early 60s. I can't wait to discuss it at book club next week.

Books are the best.

Our little klepto

This experience happened a few months ago but I realized the other day I had never blogged about it. And it's the kind of story that, although embarrassing, I want to record for posterity because it's amusing (in hindsight, of course).

T started a new preschool in the fall. Since we moved in August, he could no longer attend school with our beloved Miss Tammy. I just wasn't willing to drive 20 minutes both ways three times a week. His new teacher is nice and he enjoys the class, but I do miss seeing Miss Tammy, who was a family friend. I knew that she really cared about my kids, you know? A few months ago, I had just picked T up from preschool and he randomly announced to me, "I didn't take this car from my preschool." Umm, what?

I went down the hall to his cubby in the mudroom and found a matchbox car that I didn't recognize as being ours. When I asked him about it, he denied taking it from preschool. After H tried to get the truth out of him, T claimed that his preschool friend had given it to him. Whatever. The next preschool day, I had him take it back. (I planned to give it to the teacher myself but he said he would do it and say he was sorry.) When I picked him up, I asked his teacher if he had given her the car back. She didn't know what I was talking about. (He just put it back in the bin without mentioning anything to his teacher.)

I explained how he had accidentally taken it home, and she started to say that it wasn't a problem at all, and that kids put stuff in their pockets without even meaning to. As she said it, she happened to pat the side of his pocket and realized that they were full of small octagon-shaped discs (apparently, the kids pretend they're money). As she talked, she pulled out a disc. More and more. And more. There were lots of them.

*Sigh*

His teacher didn't act like it was a big deal, and it really wasn't. But because I don't know her that well, I was totally embarrassed by it at the time. If he had still been in Miss Tammy's class, I could have just laughed it off with her, no big deal. But I instantly wondered if the new teacher would think T was some sort of klepto. And T didn't appreciate me reminding him every single preschool day for two weeks afterward to not put anything in his pockets.

2010

This post is for my sister who was getting depressed at having to look at N's depressed face every time she checked my blog. Although, now that N is getting one of her eye teeth, that face sadly still applies.

We had a lovely time last week with family. One of my sisters came into town with her family and we played and played. It was crazy and fun, and it was hard to see them go. We also had a great time with A's family on New Year's Eve, even ringing in the new year at 8 pm so the kiddos could go to bed.

And now, it's back to real life. Even though I worked for most of the Christmas break, my kids weren't in school, which meant I had a lot less "schedule" to worry about. It was nice. But now we're back to cranky kids who are late for school and homework. Oh, homework. How I hate you.

A and I got new callings in church. We teach T's Primary class. To make this possible, the babies went into nursery three weeks early. They both did fine the first Sunday, but I didn't fare as well. Halfway through singing time, I started getting blind spots, which progressed into a nausea-inducing migraine. Thankfully, I didn't throw up in the middle of a room of small children, but it was close. I'm sad about not being in Relief Society anymore, especially since we barely know anyone in the ward as it is. But at least we get to hear awesome comments every week, such as, "My dad got me a cheese." Thanks for sharing, buddy.

One last thought. I've come to the conclusion that when there's a conflict between my children being happy/having fun and being clean/quiet, I'd almost always choose clean and quiet. I suspect this makes me somewhat of a bad mother, or at least one who's not all that adventurous. Hmm.