Money Money Money

I haven't blogged in a while, but I need to vent a little. I know this blog is totally a downer, but it makes me feel better to write about what's bugging me.

I have wanted a Kitchen Aid mixer for a long time, and have been watching the prices. There was a good deal at Costco last month, so I decided it was finally time to go for it. I have a hard time spending money on myself, but I knew that our finances were looking pretty good so I went ahead and bought it.

Four days later my tooth completely broke in half. I had to get a crown which was $1000.

Then James' car needed to be registered, but first it needed a new windshield and tires. $500.

Then James got a new job which we are really excited about, but which doesn't pay for health insurance for me or the kids; we have to pay our own and go through James' work's group policy. (Which by the way my OBGYN doesn't accept.) I can't buy a personal insurance policy with any other company because I am pregnant, and pregnancy is a pre-existing condition. Insurance will be about $1200 a month for the next 4 months until the baby is born. (Plus a $4000 deductible and 20% of the bill in March) That is more than our mortgage payment. For the next 4 months.

As a side note, I know that I have a lot of friends who are die-hard republicans, but let me just say that if the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) were totally in place, this wouldn't be a problem at all. It would be illegal for insurance companies not to sell me insurance because of my pregnancy. It is one of the main reasons that I voted for President Obama.

It is enough to make me seriously consider forgetting all about the insurance, and going into the back yard, bite on a stick, and squat under a tree to get this baby out.

Then our dishwasher started leaking water all over the place. I spent 3 hours yesterday taking it apart and cleaning it out, trying to see if I could fix the problem myself. No luck. The repair man came over today and charged me $55 to tell  me that it couldn't be fixed and that the whole thing needed to be replaced.

Within the next month there's Christmas, plus I have 2 kids with birthdays who have been promised friend birthday parties because I am a mean mom and only throw them every other year and we skipped them last year.

And because the pay schedule at James' new job is a little different than the one at his old job we are only getting one paycheck this month.

Maybe I shouldn't have bought the mixer.

Tantrums: The bane of my existence

Two weekends ago I was able to spend three blessed days to myself in St. George. I went to the spa, went shopping, and read books outside by the fountain. I slept in, went to an amazing concert, and ate at restaurants. It was an absolute dream.

 Peace and serenity. No car seats. No diapers. No whining. No fighting. No children's programming.


 AND, NO TANTRUMS!

 Heaven.


 One afternoon I went with my Dad to Costco to get a few things. When we went to check out there was a woman ahead of us in line. She had one child in the basket of her cart, one in the seat of the cart sporting a hot pink cast on her leg, and one rolling around on the ground screaming. I said to my Dad, "Oh, that is me. That is SO me." I was torn between my feelings of sympathy and camaraderie for this woman, and my complete elation that it wasn't me with the three little blessings.


 Exactly two days later I found myself entering the Costco by my house. I just needed chicken. I could be in and out in 5 minutes. McKenna got into the basket of the cart, and when I went to put Wesley in the seat he started crying. Ok, maybe he wants to ride in the basket too. Nope. Well, I guess I'll let him walk. I think we can all agree that letting a one year old walk in the Costco is pretty much a recipe for disaster. But I JUST needed chicken. We can do it this one time. No, he doesn't want that either. He completely loses it.


 Just take it in with me now: Wesley is face-down and spread-eagle on the floor of the entrance at Costco. He is screaming. (Not crying, screaming!) He is banging his head on the floor. There are several people behind us waiting to come in.

 Exasperated, I grab him with one arm and start steering the cart out of the way with the other. Wesley puts his little hands on the handle next to mine. He is instantly happy. Oh, he wants to push the cart! Well, maybe I can put him on the ground and let him push from the bottom. No, he HAS to hold the cart's handle. He is about three feet too short, and five years too young for that. Ok, I'll just hold him with one arm and push the cart with the other. That only lasts for about ten awkward steps.


 It is time for me to make an executive decision. Despite his protests (kicking, scratching, hitting, biting, etc. ) I fling him into the seat and strap him in. Oh the screaming! I take off like a mad woman on Supermarket Sweep, and run for the chicken.

The trick is not to make eye contact with anyone. When you have a child in this state there are only two responses you will get from people. They are either sympathetic, or judgmental. At this point, both will make me cry.

All the lines are long. Curses. Wesley has now gone completely limp and is slumped forward, appendages dangling from the cart. There is a slimy string of snot/drool hanging from his face to about 3 inches above the floor. Still screaming bloody murder. Now that I have time to wait, I begin to wax philosophical. Maybe the universe is punishing me for putting myself first the weekend before. Maybe I tempted fate by previously proclaiming McKenna to be my 'hard one'. Maybe this is Jesus' way of telling me that I should stop having children. Or Maybe (and this one seems most likely) my womb is actually a portal from Hell.

 I cried when I got to my car. Three days later he had another meltdown at Walmart. A lady, probably in her late forties, stopped me and told me that I was a good mom and that she knew exactly what I was going through. I cried again and gave her a hug. Not everyone has kids who can throw a tantrum like this. It is not what you imagine when you bring a sweet little baby home from the hospital.

Wesley is my little boy and I love him. But man, I could use more weekends in St. George.

The baseball pants

Today I just had one little errand I needed to run: buy baseball pants for JJ. Luckily, JJ was playing at a friend's house so it was just McKenna and Wesley with me. Wesley woke up from his nap with croup. If I end up taking him in to the doctor this will be the 4th visit in a week and a half for our family. I am stressed out.

The whole way to the store, McKenna is crying/screaming/whining that she wants to play at her friend's house. I am trying not to yell. My friend calls me to ask if I've bought baseball pants yet. She is on her way to the store too. As I hang up the phone I realize that her car is right in front of me. A tender mercy.

When I pull into the parking lot I turn around to see that McKenna has crashed. The girl does not nap, she enters into a comatose state. You can not wake her up. Crap. James took the stroller out of the van this weekend. Crap. My friend who is getting out of her car notices, and offers to wait by my car when she is finished. I love her. We wait for about ten minutes.

I go in with Wesley, trying to hurry so I won't inconvenience my friend. What is that smell? Great timing, buddy. Pretend I don't smell anything. Keep shopping. Find the baseball pants. There are only two sizes left: XXS and XL. Crap. Ask guy for help- he will check in the back. Wesley falls. "Ouch, ouch!" Pick him up. He's good. Wesley plays with another baby while I wait. SMACK. Screams. The other boy hit Wes over the head with a baseball bat. I grab the XL and try to get the hell out of there.

I get back to the car, thank my friend, and buckle Wesley in. Why is there blood all over his pants??? Lift up pant leg. Oh my gosh. Ouch ouch is right. Wesley wants his milk. Where is it? Run back in to the store. Get on my hands and knees like a jackass looking under clothes racks for the sippy cup. Found it. I run back out to the car.

I start driving home. I have completed my errand. I want to cry. When JJ got home he tried on the pants. WAY too big.


It was all for naught.

Missy

This Valentine's Day James surprised me with a one pound box of hand-picked chocolates from Cummings. I surprised him with the news that the veterinarian recommended we euthanize the dog.

After all is said and done, I am just really, really sorry.

I am sorry to my children, who love animals. I am sorry to Wesley who doesn't understand where his puppy playmate is; much less why she is gone. I am sorry to McKenna who cried when we told her, and who now tells everyone, "We don't have a dog no more. She went to heaven." I am sorry to JJ, who loved to hold Missy and laughed when she licked his face.

I am sorry to James for buying a cute dog that he fell in love with. He always saw the very best in her, and never gave up on trying to help her be better. I am sorry for the hundreds of dollars that I spent on her. I am sorry that I have caused more emotions for him to repress (probably the reason for the migraines.)

I am sorry for myself. I am sorry that although I prayed and prayed to find the right dog for our family, I didn't get the revelation I was looking for. I am sorry that I am now one of 'those people.' I am sorry that I won't have a dog for a while. Life is hard when you don't have a furry little dog to snuggle up with at the end of the day.

Most of all, I am sorry to Missy. I am sorry that you didn't go to a family who might have compensated for your poor breeding. I am sorry if you were in pain. I am sorry that you were so scared all the time. I am sorry that you spent so much time in your kennel. I am sorry that your life was so short. I'm sorry that I didn't love you more. I tried. Really, I did.

January Blahs

I have a serious case of the January Blahs.

James went night time ice fishing on a weeknight during tax season in a snow storm while he is sick with a cold. He doesn't see my reasoning that it might not be a good idea. If he comes home dead I'm gonna be pissed.

Our playgroup at the church was interrupted today by a group of five men who wanted to play basketball. There were 17 of us there (including kids). They were basically like, "Oh sorry that we didnt reserve the building, and usually we're here on a different day, but we don't really care that you are already here with all of your kids and all of your things and this is the first time today that you have had a moment of peace where your kids haven't been throwing tantrums at the Target/ wiping their noses on the couch/ spilling an entire box of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios on the kitchen floor that you just mopped, but we're here now and so you need to go home, get barefoot, and make dinner for your husbands." (At least that's the way I took it.) I was NOT going to leave. We were going to be there until 5:00. But then all the other moms started packing up their kids. WHY? I think women are too nice. To a fault. It was wrong for them to ask us to leave, and it was wrong for us to be so willing to do it.

I got a notice in the mail that Sparky's license is about to expire. GUESS WHAT DAVIS COUNTY ANIMAL SERVICES? Sparky is dead. Thanks for the reminder.

Today on Facebook I read the following 'words': Adorbs and Presh. Apparently these are short for adorable and precious. It makes me want to throw up a little bit.


I think that's about it.

JJ turns six!

JJ with his birthday crown from school


















He asked for a donut pyramid instead of a cake and I was happy to oblige!






















Here he is with all of his presents minus the card he got from Grandma and Grandpa Brown- that came the next day.
















We didn't do a friend birthday party this year. I have decided to do those every other year. Planning and hosting a kid's birthday party is not my idea of a good time; it is one of the things I dread as a parent! After we opened presents we took JJ to Boondocks and then to Artic Circle for dinner. It was a fun day!

Temple Square

We went to Temple Square to see the lights last month. James and I both hadn't seen them in a LONG time. I think the last time I went was when I was in young women's- at least 15 years ago. I was so glad that we went. The kids had a lot of fun. We parked at the Trax central station and then rode in the free zone. It was a fun night!

At the Ward Christmas Party...

Wesley played dead...
































and then threw a big fit.

McKenna Makes Brownies

With her pants on backwards.