Freezer cooking!

SORRY, I LOST A BIG CHUNK OF THE PICTURES ON MY OLD BLOG POSTS WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED SOME PICASA ALBUMS.  SAD FACE. :(

Inspired by two of my favorite Mommy Bloggers, Money Saving Mom and Life as Mom, I decided to try my hand at OAMC (once-a-month cooking).

I started by breaking a cardinal rule of OAMC: attempting to do both the shopping and cooking in one day. I had big plans to shop beforehand, but they fell through for various reasons. So I found myself absolutely exhausted by 2:00 AM this morning, and for good reason. The second rule I broke was to go in without a plan. I just sat down, starting plowing through my recipes and churning out meats and mixes and other things. I should have laid out a plan beforehand, because things would have gone more smoothly. But oh well! Live and learn, right?

Overall, I'd call it a huge success. Back in the pre-couponing days, I used to spend $800 on groceries & dining every month! Shocking, I know. And kind of sickening to think about all the money we could have in savings now if I'd have gotten our food budget under control ages ago. But it's in the past, so all I can do now is move forward and learn from my mistakes. Despite becoming a couponer, I've still managed to spend $450 to $500/month on food lately. Something had to change. But I'm kind of a food snob, so I knew it wouldn't be easy to reign in the budget.

I sat down this week, plotted out a month long menu that included multiples of all my favorite recipes (to try to save the maximum amount of money by using all the ingredients) and went shopping. Amazingly, I only spent $166! On a month's worth of groceries! This even included organic meats, cheeses and dairy. I'll have to go to the grocery store once a week to re-stock our milk and produce, but I can't imagine that I'll need to spend more than another $100. And since I budgeted $450 for groceries this month, it looks like we'll get to put about $200 extra in savings. This makes all the work yesterday and today SO worth it!

Everything just clicked this weekend. The reason I've been spending so much money on groceries, despite the fact that I use a lot of coupons, is that I buy a lot of convenience foods. I buy loaves of bread, tortillas, baking mixes, frozen waffles/pancakes, premade food for Ben - the list goes on and on. Since I'm lucky enough to stay home with my little guy, I have extra time. Time that I could use to bake my own breads, make my own pasta and tortillas, freeze my own waffles and make all of Ben's food from scratch (which is great for more than that reason alone - I now know exactly what goes into his food, so it's easier to eliminate allergens). OAMC is something I will definitely continue doing!

Here's the breakdown of meals:

For the following, I mixed together all the dry ingredients into separate freezer bags/jars and wrote the directions right on them for quick prep:



1. Maple Oat Heart Scones x 3

2. Multi-Grain Blueberry Pancakes x 4

3. Hot Chocolate x 2

For the following three dishes, I prepared the dish up to the point that it would be ready to go in the oven, then I placed them in their baking dishes, "flash froze" in the freezer for about an hour, stuck them in freezer bags with baking directions written on the front. They'll all have to be thawed before they can go in the oven.

4. Mac & Cheese x 2- Yes, a little sinful and not exactly kind to the waistline, but it's inevitable that we'll eat crappy a few times a month. I also cooked, diced and froze some chicken to add to my hubby's. He's gotta have meat in everything!

5. Chicken Enchilada Casserole x 2

6. Weight Watchers Meatloaf x 2

7. Eggless teething biscuits for Ben. I think they taste like cardboard, but Ben loves them! I used whole wheat flour to make them healthier.



8. I cooked six chicken breasts for Ben's food. I pureed half of them with some steamed veggies because he seems to have an easier time digesting them. I divided the puree among ice cube trays, froze them and then popped them into freezer bags. The rest of the chicken breast I froze to make him other dishes later.

9. I pureed some sweet potatoes and did the same ice cube tray method.




10. Shredded beef filling - we'll use this to make tacos, burritos & sandwiches. I made four pounds and froze it in four separate one-pound bags.



11. Crockpot applesauce - Oh, this is SO yum! It has sugar in it which I'm going to eliminate next time because it's too sweet and doesn't need it!



12. Banana apple bread - I had some overripe bananas in the freezer that needed a purpose and this was a yummy way to use 'em!

12. Low-fat tortillas - My chicken enchilada casserole called for tortillas and we'll need them for our tacos & burritos, so I decided to try my hand at making them. This was SO easy and they were about a million times better than store bought! I will NEVER buy store bought again!



13. Low-fat lemon bread x 2- I got this recipe out of a magazine and it freezes really well. I'll post it sometime soon.

14. Weight Watchers Crockpot Sante Fe Chicken x 2- There's really not a whole lot to do for this recipe beforehand, but I went ahead and mixed together the dry ingredients.

15. Weight Watchers salsa chicken x 2 - Same issue as above. It's a super quick meal, so there's really nothing I could do beforehand. But man, it's my new favorite recipe! A quick note: I'm trying to get away from reduced fat stuff, so I use plain yogurt instead of light sour cream.

16. I put a few pounds of chicken breast into freezer bags with marinade to make a few quick chicken/veggie dinners. It just needs to be thawed out and cooked as you normally would.

17. I cooked up three pounds of hamburger meat/onions and froze them into separate freezer bags for spaghetti.

18. Weight Watchers Slow Cooker Lasagna - This is another quick recipe (anything that's crockpot related is!), so I just cooked the hamburger, onions and garlic and froze in a freezer bag.

19. Hummus - I made this no-tahini recipe because I can't find it anywhere. I added about five times as much cumin as it calls for because I love it that way, and I also added some roasted red peppers. I'm going to try my hand at making some whole wheat pita bread sometime this month.

I baked two loaves of bread yesterday to get us through this week. I'll have to bake a few more throughout the month, but with my trusty little bread machine, it's a breeze (and so much cheaper and yummier)!

So there you have it! My very lengthy post about my first adventures in the land of OAMC. I'd love to hear from any of you who have yummy recipes that freeze well!

We'll call this blog post YAY!

We got back most of the test results I mentioned earlier this week and I'm happy to report that we're 99% sure Ben doesn't have Celiac disease. Woot, woot! The only way to be 100% sure is to biopsy the colon, and that's not happening.

I'm also happy to report that we do not have a dairy allergy.

According to his pediatrician, "The tests confirmed what we already knew: he's a really allergic kid. That's why he has such bad eczema." But luckily he's only really allergic to peanuts. So I picked up this bad boy:

The only thing the test confirmed that we didn't really know is that:

1. He's deathly allergic to peanuts.

2. He's mildly allergic to eggs.

So now we're moving to an egg-free diet to see if we can get this horrible face rash to clear up. We'll also be removing all traces of peanuts from this ole' house.

I spent my entire day yesterday shopping and cooking up a storm. I decided to try my hand at OAMC (once-a-month cooking) to shave some more dough off our grocery budget. I did it all with a nasty sore throat, so that kind of sucked. Especially since I stayed up until 2:00 AM for some clean-up action and, consequently, woke up with an even worse sore throat. Such is life. At least I have a packed freezer to show for it!

I'll post all the deets later today! Especially the part where I brag that I only spent $166 on a month's worth of groceries!

*Happy dance, happy dance!*

PS - Rock Chalk, my jayhawk folks! We pulled off a win last night again K-State which means we'll be ranked numero uno now! Do I smell another National Championship? I do indeed...and it smells yummy!

We'll call this blog post YAY!

We got back most of the test results I mentioned earlier this week and I'm happy to report that we're 99% sure Ben doesn't have Celiac disease. Woot, woot! The only way to be 100% sure is to biopsy the colon, and that's not happening.

I'm also happy to report that we do not have a dairy allergy.

According to his pediatrician, "The tests confirmed what we already knew: he's a really allergic kid. That's why he has such bad eczema." But luckily he's only really allergic to peanuts. So I picked up this bad boy:

The only thing the test confirmed that we didn't really know is that:

1. He's deathly allergic to peanuts.

2. He's mildly allergic to eggs.

So now we're moving to an egg-free diet to see if we can get this horrible face rash to clear up. We'll also be removing all traces of peanuts from this ole' house.

I spent my entire day yesterday shopping and cooking up a storm. I decided to try my hand at OAMC (once-a-month cooking) to shave some more dough off our grocery budget. I did it all with a nasty sore throat, so that kind of sucked. Especially since I stayed up until 2:00 AM for some clean-up action and, consequently, woke up with an even worse sore throat. Such is life. At least I have a packed freezer to show for it!

I'll post all the deets later today! Especially the part where I brag that I only spent $166 on a month's worth of groceries!

*Happy dance, happy dance!*

PS - Rock Chalk, my jayhawk folks! We pulled off a win last night again K-State which means we'll be ranked numero uno now! Do I smell another National Championship? I do indeed...and it smells yummy!

We'll just call this blog post UGGGGGHHHHH.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Perhaps I should make gluten-free, soy-free, dairy-free, nut-free, egg-free brownies, instead?

After some less than pleasant experiences lately, we finally trekked to the pediatrician's office for a full evaluation. Ben has a face rash and a butt rash every minute of every day. In fact, a butt rash is putting it VERY mildly. To spare you, I won't elaborate. But things are yuck-o 'round here.

It looks like tomorrow will be full of blood work, meaning I'll have a fussy baby on my hands. Yippee. I hate seeing the little guy in pain, but if a little pain tomorrow means less pain down the road, well, I guess we can cope.

Please keep your fingers & toes crossed that Ben's issues are mild intolerances and not celiac disease.

Also keep your fingers & toes crossed for my mama - the greatest woman I know! She's having a rough go of things and we're hoping BIG HOPES that her Multiple Sclerosis has decided not to rear its ugly head again. Love you, Momz!

"Somebudy pwease make dis rash go away!"

The cool kids pop their collars.

We'll just call this blog post UGGGGGHHHHH.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Perhaps I should make gluten-free, soy-free, dairy-free, nut-free, egg-free brownies, instead?

After some less than pleasant experiences lately, we finally trekked to the pediatrician's office for a full evaluation. Ben has a face rash and a butt rash every minute of every day. In fact, a butt rash is putting it VERY mildly. To spare you, I won't elaborate. But things are yuck-o 'round here.

It looks like tomorrow will be full of blood work, meaning I'll have a fussy baby on my hands. Yippee. I hate seeing the little guy in pain, but if a little pain tomorrow means less pain down the road, well, I guess we can cope.

Please keep your fingers & toes crossed that Ben's issues are mild intolerances and not celiac disease.

Also keep your fingers & toes crossed for my mama - the greatest woman I know! She's having a rough go of things and we're hoping BIG HOPES that her Multiple Sclerosis has decided not to rear its ugly head again. Love you, Momz!

"Somebudy pwease make dis rash go away!"

The cool kids pop their collars.

It's a love story, part quatro (just keepin' you on your toes!)

I took Spanish, too. Because cool kids are multilingual, don'tcha know?

In case you've missed the earlier posts, you can find them here:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

My hands were shaking as I debated whether or not to answer the phone.

Should I play hard to get now? What would we even say? Our last phone call had been just short of disastrous, and I wasn't sure my brain was up for another call like that after getting two hours of sleep, working for ten hours and driving for six.

My finger quickly slipped over the ignore button, I pushed down and off he went. I turned the radio up and coaxed my heart back into its normal rhythm.

Until the voicemail came. Oh my. Should I ignore it? Leave it there to listen to in the morning? I knew myself well enough to know that if I did listen to it and he asked me to call him back, I'd do it in a second. And of course he would ask me to call him back! Right?

It was all of eight minutes before curiosity got the best of me. By this point, it was already pushing midnight and I was as exhausted as I'd ever remembered being before. Rolling back into town, I listened to his voice mail.

Honestly, I don't have a clue what he said except for, "If you...want to come over or something...you know...you can." Cue the chorus.

HALLELUJAH!

So did I leave him hanging? Make him stew and wonder if I thought he was a bad kisser or something? Give him a piece of his own medicine?

Of course not. Because I have no will power.

I called him back. Then I went to his house. Of course.

We watched a movie as much as you can watch a movie when you're trying to get to know each other. In other words, we spent most of those two hours talking while using the movie as our crutch when there were the occasional awkward moments of silence.

By the time I left, I felt like I really knew Tim. He was not my type. My type had always been the big, rugged guys. Even the occasional teddy bears. My type had never been the skinny computer geek. Why was I so drawn to him? Perhaps because I saw then what Tim has confirmed to be the truth - that he would make the most amazing husband and father a girl could ever ask for. Perhaps I didn't really know my type at all, because that night, I knew that I'd finally found my right type.

When I left, Tim asked if he could call me. And then my heart exploded into a million little pieces and floated up into my brain, rendering me completely giddy.

To be continued...

It's a love story, part quatro (just keepin' you on your toes!)

I took Spanish, too. Because cool kids are multilingual, don'tcha know?

In case you've missed the earlier posts, you can find them here:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

My hands were shaking as I debated whether or not to answer the phone.

Should I play hard to get now? What would we even say? Our last phone call had been just short of disastrous, and I wasn't sure my brain was up for another call like that after getting two hours of sleep, working for ten hours and driving for six.

My finger quickly slipped over the ignore button, I pushed down and off he went. I turned the radio up and coaxed my heart back into its normal rhythm.

Until the voicemail came. Oh my. Should I ignore it? Leave it there to listen to in the morning? I knew myself well enough to know that if I did listen to it and he asked me to call him back, I'd do it in a second. And of course he would ask me to call him back! Right?

It was all of eight minutes before curiosity got the best of me. By this point, it was already pushing midnight and I was as exhausted as I'd ever remembered being before. Rolling back into town, I listened to his voice mail.

Honestly, I don't have a clue what he said except for, "If you...want to come over or something...you know...you can." Cue the chorus.

HALLELUJAH!

So did I leave him hanging? Make him stew and wonder if I thought he was a bad kisser or something? Give him a piece of his own medicine?

Of course not. Because I have no will power.

I called him back. Then I went to his house. Of course.

We watched a movie as much as you can watch a movie when you're trying to get to know each other. In other words, we spent most of those two hours talking while using the movie as our crutch when there were the occasional awkward moments of silence.

By the time I left, I felt like I really knew Tim. He was not my type. My type had always been the big, rugged guys. Even the occasional teddy bears. My type had never been the skinny computer geek. Why was I so drawn to him? Perhaps because I saw then what Tim has confirmed to be the truth - that he would make the most amazing husband and father a girl could ever ask for. Perhaps I didn't really know my type at all, because that night, I knew that I'd finally found my right type.

When I left, Tim asked if he could call me. And then my heart exploded into a million little pieces and floated up into my brain, rendering me completely giddy.

To be continued...

It's a love story, part trois {why yes, I did take French in college}

In case you've missed the earlier posts, you can find them here:

Part One
Part Two

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the football game. The one out of town that Tim just happened to be at. And he hadn't returned my calls. And he was either playing hard-to-get, just not that into me, or really shy.

I plead the latter, but truth be told, I've never actually asked him why he didn't return my calls. Hm, if he weren't asleep (at 9:00 at night on our in-home date night!) then I'd ask him right now.

ANYWAY.

Red-headed friend calls John, who announces that he, Tim and Bob are at the game, too! And wouldn't it just be awesome to all get together. And we should come meet them at such-and-such location in half an hour.

I knew I should have dressed up, I thought. But my oversized KU hoodie and jeans were going to have to do, because it's all I had.

We met 'em, we laughed, we drank, we listened to the boys tell raunchy jokes. The usual. Then we headed to the epicenter of that college town - the bar district! It turned into a long night. And at some point, really without even noticing, Tim had grabbed my hand.

He'd grabbed my hand! He'd grabbed my hand!

Then he got a little more cuddly, a little more aggressive (in the good way), a little more take charge.

That night is mostly a blur, but I do remember the long walk back to someone's house where we crashed for the night on probably the most uncomfortable floral couch with rips in the cushions and springs (literally) poking me in the back. But somehow, that was exactly where I wanted to be. Curled up together, we slept soundly for two whole hours until red-headed friend woke us up.

She'd managed to lose her purse and her car. However that happens. We raced through town to find it because we were both working a double shift at the bar & grill and we were two hours from home. She couldn't find her car, so we batted our lashes at Tim and he "offered" to take us home (as in he got roped into it and really had no other choice).

The only memory I have from that drive home is the frappuccino we picked up from the gas station. It's memorable and funny because I had no idea at that time what an obsession Tim had with gas station Starbucks frappuccinos. That obsession is almost as endearing as his Chapstick obsession.

The double-shift flew by, but I had to drive red-headed friend all the way back to Manhattan (Kansas!) to get her car that we couldn't find earlier that day.

And then, on the way home, I got a phone call. The kind of phone call that leaves you mostly breathless with a racing heart and a lump in your throat the size of Texas. A phone call from Tim!

To be continued...

It's a love story, part trois {why yes, I did take French in college}

In case you've missed the earlier posts, you can find them here:

Part One
Part Two

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the football game. The one out of town that Tim just happened to be at. And he hadn't returned my calls. And he was either playing hard-to-get, just not that into me, or really shy.

I plead the latter, but truth be told, I've never actually asked him why he didn't return my calls. Hm, if he weren't asleep (at 9:00 at night on our in-home date night!) then I'd ask him right now.

ANYWAY.

Red-headed friend calls John, who announces that he, Tim and Bob are at the game, too! And wouldn't it just be awesome to all get together. And we should come meet them at such-and-such location in half an hour.

I knew I should have dressed up, I thought. But my oversized KU hoodie and jeans were going to have to do, because it's all I had.

We met 'em, we laughed, we drank, we listened to the boys tell raunchy jokes. The usual. Then we headed to the epicenter of that college town - the bar district! It turned into a long night. And at some point, really without even noticing, Tim had grabbed my hand.

He'd grabbed my hand! He'd grabbed my hand!

Then he got a little more cuddly, a little more aggressive (in the good way), a little more take charge.

That night is mostly a blur, but I do remember the long walk back to someone's house where we crashed for the night on probably the most uncomfortable floral couch with rips in the cushions and springs (literally) poking me in the back. But somehow, that was exactly where I wanted to be. Curled up together, we slept soundly for two whole hours until red-headed friend woke us up.

She'd managed to lose her purse and her car. However that happens. We raced through town to find it because we were both working a double shift at the bar & grill and we were two hours from home. She couldn't find her car, so we batted our lashes at Tim and he "offered" to take us home (as in he got roped into it and really had no other choice).

The only memory I have from that drive home is the frappuccino we picked up from the gas station. It's memorable and funny because I had no idea at that time what an obsession Tim had with gas station Starbucks frappuccinos. That obsession is almost as endearing as his Chapstick obsession.

The double-shift flew by, but I had to drive red-headed friend all the way back to Manhattan (Kansas!) to get her car that we couldn't find earlier that day.

And then, on the way home, I got a phone call. The kind of phone call that leaves you mostly breathless with a racing heart and a lump in your throat the size of Texas. A phone call from Tim!

To be continued...

It's a love story, part deux.

Since I'd finally developed a normal college social life, I thought it only appropriate that I have a normal college birthday party. So I did.

When John showed up with Tim, my stomach literally flip-flopped. But how would I get John to leave without Tim? I was a schemer, but this seemed an impossible task, even for me. The details have escaped me now, but I somehow accomplished the impossible.

*Bow chicka wow wow*

And all of that.

I woke up with this ridiculous smile that just wouldn't stop. It had happened! We had kissed and now Tim was in love with me and we would be married and life would be good! Oh, to be young and naive again. By 2:00 PM, I was sitting at red-headed friend's house with JOHN. Big, huge, gigantic frowny face. Surprisingly, he blurts out, "Just call him already, DUDE." And who am I to say no? So I picked up that phone and I dialed that number and I was going to be a take-charge kinda girl!

Tim: "Hello?"

Me: "Hey."

Tim: "Hey."

Me: "So."

Tim: "Uh huh?"

Me: "What...are...youupto?"

Tim: "Working."

Right. This is that weird career thing, huh?

Me: "Oh."

Tim: "Um..."

Me: "Well I just thought if you weren't busy that you might want to...maybe...come over to *red-headed friend's* house?"

Tim: "Yeah, maybe I can. I don't know."

Me: "Okay! Talk to you later!" Click.

WHOA.

I watched the clock. Intently. Like a hawk, you might say. Many, many, many (too embarrassingly many) hours later, I gave up and went home. This is the part where I'm scared to come off as cocky and PLEASE TRUST ME I'M NOT, but I thought, "Is this what it feels like to be rejected? Because OUCH, that hurts!" Now let me elaborate before you quickly unfollow my blog. I don't think I'm some hottie who can score any guy she wants by ANY MEANS. I just chose wisely, if you know what I mean. I didn't go after any guy unless I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was into me. Frankly, I didn't really go after guys much at all. I was WAY too shy for that sorta stuff!

This pretty much just solidified my obsession. He'd made it a challenge. One that I was up for!

Fast forward a few weeks. I'd heard not a peep from Tim. I'd completely distanced myself from John. I was a trainwreck. So I soaked my tears away with some weekends out of town with red-headed friend basking in Oktoberfest and a football game. Unbeknownest to me, Tim was at that football game.

To be continued...

Continue to part three here.

It's a love story, part deux.

Since I'd finally developed a normal college social life, I thought it only appropriate that I have a normal college birthday party. So I did.

When John showed up with Tim, my stomach literally flip-flopped. But how would I get John to leave without Tim? I was a schemer, but this seemed an impossible task, even for me. The details have escaped me now, but I somehow accomplished the impossible.

*Bow chicka wow wow*

And all of that.

I woke up with this ridiculous smile that just wouldn't stop. It had happened! We had kissed and now Tim was in love with me and we would be married and life would be good! Oh, to be young and naive again. By 2:00 PM, I was sitting at red-headed friend's house with JOHN. Big, huge, gigantic frowny face. Surprisingly, he blurts out, "Just call him already, DUDE." And who am I to say no? So I picked up that phone and I dialed that number and I was going to be a take-charge kinda girl!

Tim: "Hello?"

Me: "Hey."

Tim: "Hey."

Me: "So."

Tim: "Uh huh?"

Me: "What...are...youupto?"

Tim: "Working."

Right. This is that weird career thing, huh?

Me: "Oh."

Tim: "Um..."

Me: "Well I just thought if you weren't busy that you might want to...maybe...come over to *red-headed friend's* house?"

Tim: "Yeah, maybe I can. I don't know."

Me: "Okay! Talk to you later!" Click.

WHOA.

I watched the clock. Intently. Like a hawk, you might say. Many, many, many (too embarrassingly many) hours later, I gave up and went home. This is the part where I'm scared to come off as cocky and PLEASE TRUST ME I'M NOT, but I thought, "Is this what it feels like to be rejected? Because OUCH, that hurts!" Now let me elaborate before you quickly unfollow my blog. I don't think I'm some hottie who can score any guy she wants by ANY MEANS. I just chose wisely, if you know what I mean. I didn't go after any guy unless I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was into me. Frankly, I didn't really go after guys much at all. I was WAY too shy for that sorta stuff!

This pretty much just solidified my obsession. He'd made it a challenge. One that I was up for!

Fast forward a few weeks. I'd heard not a peep from Tim. I'd completely distanced myself from John. I was a trainwreck. So I soaked my tears away with some weekends out of town with red-headed friend basking in Oktoberfest and a football game. Unbeknownest to me, Tim was at that football game.

To be continued...

Continue to part three here.

I can't get enough of this snuggle butt!

I can't get enough of this snuggle butt!

It's a love story.

I've wanted to get my love story down on paper for ages, but something always gets in the way. In the pre-baby days, it was my career. In the post-baby days, it's my baby. Well, not that he gets in the way. That sounds terrible! He occupies my time. Since I don't sleep anymore anyway, I might as well take advantage of these late nights and get something accomplished, right? Behold, a (insert unknown number here) part series revisiting those sometimes horrendous, sometimes silly, rarely scandalous, mostly cliche, always heart melting days of my younger years.

At 21, life had given me just short of all I'd expected. I was taking Journalism classes at KU and hating every last moment of it. It wasn't that I hated being in college or the idea of making something of myself. No, I hated the school of Journalism. In all its cocky splendor (We're one of the top 10 Journalism schools in the nation! We developed convergence! We are awesome! Hear us roar!) it was a glorified sorority hangout. No offense to my sorority pals, but I wasn't one. Not only were the halls teeming with North Face jackets, Ugg boots and bad dye jobs, but the PROFESSORS looked like they'd just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret photo shoot.

Then there was my job. I didn't mind serving in that I made money, but I hated serving in that I had to SERVE. Other people. Even when they wrote things like "NO TIP FOR YOU IF YOU DON'T ASK TO SEE MY ID!" on the backs of their credit cards. Like, the nerve. That one will stick with me for ages. And there was the time that a lady told me I would burn in Hell because I wouldn't give her the (completely eaten) dinner she'd ordered for free because she claimed there was a bug in it. Like, who eats bugs?

At least I had my social life. And boy did I have my social life! My red-headed friend (whom shall remain nameless due to the fact that we had the biggest blow-out of all blow-outs that have ever been had) was a pistol. She considered partying her full-time job and she was GOOD AT IT. I don't remember a night that I stayed home for a six month stretch.

And that, my friends, is where it gets good. On one such night, my red-headed friend and I were doing a little shopping when we ran into, we'll call him, er, John. John, red-headed friend and I all knew each other from our community college days. He'd moved to Lawrence, too, and apparently he'd had a thing for me back then. Who'd have thought? A real class act, John had moved to Lawrence to "Mooch off my friends and live in a big house with them." His words. And because I was just lonely enough, I met up with him several weeks later. Well, red-headed friend and I. He was out with his hot little roommate, Tim.

One look at his piercing eyes, his sexy "man hands," his adorable little dimples and it dawned on me exactly why I'd agreed to meet up with John. It was destiny! Right? Meh, I'm not a huge believer in destiny, but I knew that there was a reason we'd crossed paths and I was quite bound and determined to figure it out. I flung my hair, laughed wildly at his jokes, checked and re-checked my make-up in the mirror. Just as important as the fact that he was most pleasing on the eyes was the fact that he was a...BUSINESS MAN! What was this new concept? You mean, you have a full-time job and you CARE about your job and you make a LIVING?! Hm, one might say that up until that point, I'd had a propensity for younger guys. Not younger as in younger than me, but I usually dated within my age bracket. What would a 4.5 year age gap feel like?

Sadly, Tim didn't seem to share the same feelings. You mean a guy with a career doesn't want to date a college girl working in a bar?! Shocker, huh? I went home with John because at least that meant I'd be going home to the same house that Tim would be sleeping in. It was a step in the right direction.

John's room was directly across the hall from Tim's. That meant that every day that I schemed myself into their home (Um, my computer isn't working. Can I come over and use yours? Um, the craziest thing just happened! I have no running water in my house. Can I come brush my teeth at your house? Um, the landlord needs to...clean my carpet. Can I come hang out at your house? Um, my dog is driving me crazy. Can I come hang out at your house?) I would sit in John's room and stare longingly across the hall at Tim. He was usually sprawled out on his bed, watching some TV, oblivious to the fact that this TOTALLY NAIVE, TOTALLY SMITTEN girl was staring at him for hours on end.

And then there was the day that I just knew. The day I knew I'd marry him. Red-headed friend and I were over at their house, AS FRICKIN' USUAL, twirling our hair and batting our lashes. Tim was sitting in his computer chair in his cute little home office, holding this teeny little Yorkie. His other roommate, er, Bob (If you only knew "Bob," you'd laugh right along with me) was there, too, though that's pretty inconsequential to the story.

ANYWAY.

Bob, red-headed friend, Tim and I were talking. I haven't a clue what we were talking about but it didn't really matter. Tim was lovin' on this little doggie like I'd never seen a man love on a doggie. Then this lightning bolt shot straight down from the ceiling and said to me, Chelsea, you better marry that boy. He's gonna make a great daddy. And I was all, Why thank you, lightning bolt. I think I might.

And then I called my mom. As far as cliches go, this probably tops the list. I told her that I'd met the man I was going to marry. This is the part where I'd like to tell you that she squealed with excitement right along with me, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't a clue how that conversation went. She probably shrugged it off because (EEK!) I'd been engaged before. Since that ended so well *dripping with sarcasm* I'm sure she had high hopes.

To be continued...

Continue to part two here.

It's a love story.

I've wanted to get my love story down on paper for ages, but something always gets in the way. In the pre-baby days, it was my career. In the post-baby days, it's my baby. Well, not that he gets in the way. That sounds terrible! He occupies my time. Since I don't sleep anymore anyway, I might as well take advantage of these late nights and get something accomplished, right? Behold, a (insert unknown number here) part series revisiting those sometimes horrendous, sometimes silly, rarely scandalous, mostly cliche, always heart melting days of my younger years.

At 21, life had given me just short of all I'd expected. I was taking Journalism classes at KU and hating every last moment of it. It wasn't that I hated being in college or the idea of making something of myself. No, I hated the school of Journalism. In all its cocky splendor (We're one of the top 10 Journalism schools in the nation! We developed convergence! We are awesome! Hear us roar!) it was a glorified sorority hangout. No offense to my sorority pals, but I wasn't one. Not only were the halls teeming with North Face jackets, Ugg boots and bad dye jobs, but the PROFESSORS looked like they'd just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret photo shoot.

Then there was my job. I didn't mind serving in that I made money, but I hated serving in that I had to SERVE. Other people. Even when they wrote things like "NO TIP FOR YOU IF YOU DON'T ASK TO SEE MY ID!" on the backs of their credit cards. Like, the nerve. That one will stick with me for ages. And there was the time that a lady told me I would burn in Hell because I wouldn't give her the (completely eaten) dinner she'd ordered for free because she claimed there was a bug in it. Like, who eats bugs?

At least I had my social life. And boy did I have my social life! My red-headed friend (whom shall remain nameless due to the fact that we had the biggest blow-out of all blow-outs that have ever been had) was a pistol. She considered partying her full-time job and she was GOOD AT IT. I don't remember a night that I stayed home for a six month stretch.

And that, my friends, is where it gets good. On one such night, my red-headed friend and I were doing a little shopping when we ran into, we'll call him, er, John. John, red-headed friend and I all knew each other from our community college days. He'd moved to Lawrence, too, and apparently he'd had a thing for me back then. Who'd have thought? A real class act, John had moved to Lawrence to "Mooch off my friends and live in a big house with them." His words. And because I was just lonely enough, I met up with him several weeks later. Well, red-headed friend and I. He was out with his hot little roommate, Tim.

One look at his piercing eyes, his sexy "man hands," his adorable little dimples and it dawned on me exactly why I'd agreed to meet up with John. It was destiny! Right? Meh, I'm not a huge believer in destiny, but I knew that there was a reason we'd crossed paths and I was quite bound and determined to figure it out. I flung my hair, laughed wildly at his jokes, checked and re-checked my make-up in the mirror. Just as important as the fact that he was most pleasing on the eyes was the fact that he was a...BUSINESS MAN! What was this new concept? You mean, you have a full-time job and you CARE about your job and you make a LIVING?! Hm, one might say that up until that point, I'd had a propensity for younger guys. Not younger as in younger than me, but I usually dated within my age bracket. What would a 4.5 year age gap feel like?

Sadly, Tim didn't seem to share the same feelings. You mean a guy with a career doesn't want to date a college girl working in a bar?! Shocker, huh? I went home with John because at least that meant I'd be going home to the same house that Tim would be sleeping in. It was a step in the right direction.

John's room was directly across the hall from Tim's. That meant that every day that I schemed myself into their home (Um, my computer isn't working. Can I come over and use yours? Um, the craziest thing just happened! I have no running water in my house. Can I come brush my teeth at your house? Um, the landlord needs to...clean my carpet. Can I come hang out at your house? Um, my dog is driving me crazy. Can I come hang out at your house?) I would sit in John's room and stare longingly across the hall at Tim. He was usually sprawled out on his bed, watching some TV, oblivious to the fact that this TOTALLY NAIVE, TOTALLY SMITTEN girl was staring at him for hours on end.

And then there was the day that I just knew. The day I knew I'd marry him. Red-headed friend and I were over at their house, AS FRICKIN' USUAL, twirling our hair and batting our lashes. Tim was sitting in his computer chair in his cute little home office, holding this teeny little Yorkie. His other roommate, er, Bob (If you only knew "Bob," you'd laugh right along with me) was there, too, though that's pretty inconsequential to the story.

ANYWAY.

Bob, red-headed friend, Tim and I were talking. I haven't a clue what we were talking about but it didn't really matter. Tim was lovin' on this little doggie like I'd never seen a man love on a doggie. Then this lightning bolt shot straight down from the ceiling and said to me, Chelsea, you better marry that boy. He's gonna make a great daddy. And I was all, Why thank you, lightning bolt. I think I might.

And then I called my mom. As far as cliches go, this probably tops the list. I told her that I'd met the man I was going to marry. This is the part where I'd like to tell you that she squealed with excitement right along with me, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't a clue how that conversation went. She probably shrugged it off because (EEK!) I'd been engaged before. Since that ended so well *dripping with sarcasm* I'm sure she had high hopes.

To be continued...

Continue to part two here.

Women's intuition is better.

I like to remind my husband every once in awhile, when he's doing something that goes against what I consider to be parenting logic, that women were the ones blessed with mother's intuition (italicized for emphasis). It's not his fault, certainly. And besides, Ben thinks he's much more fun than I am, so he must have been blessed with playtime intuition.

ANYWAY.

Last night was such an occasion. We were having some family playtime in Ben's playroom. Ben got Elmo Encore for Christmas (thanks, Grandma & Grandad!). It's a pretty awesome toy, if I do say so myself. He talks and moves and even shakes his little groove thing. So there we were, watching Elmo strut his stuff and sing a little ditty and all of a sudden Tim goes, "Hey Ben, watch this. It's Elmo bowling!" as he CHUCKS A FOOTBALL AT ELMO'S HEAD. I should preface this story by saying that Ben is currently in a pull-the-dog-up-by-his-hair-and-drag-him-around-the-house torture phase. We're working really hard to get him to understand the word ouchie and that he can, in fact, inflict pain on others. And that inflicting pain on others isn't funny. And then Tim CHUCKS ANOTHER FOOTBALL AT ELMO'S HEAD, laughing. Elmo faceplanted and I'm pretty sure Ben laughed, though my memory is already a little fuzzy.

Women's intuition is better.

Women's intuition is better.

I like to remind my husband every once in awhile, when he's doing something that goes against what I consider to be parenting logic, that women were the ones blessed with mother's intuition (italicized for emphasis). It's not his fault, certainly. And besides, Ben thinks he's much more fun than I am, so he must have been blessed with playtime intuition.

ANYWAY.

Last night was such an occasion. We were having some family playtime in Ben's playroom. Ben got Elmo Encore for Christmas (thanks, Grandma & Grandad!). It's a pretty awesome toy, if I do say so myself. He talks and moves and even shakes his little groove thing. So there we were, watching Elmo strut his stuff and sing a little ditty and all of a sudden Tim goes, "Hey Ben, watch this. It's Elmo bowling!" as he CHUCKS A FOOTBALL AT ELMO'S HEAD. I should preface this story by saying that Ben is currently in a pull-the-dog-up-by-his-hair-and-drag-him-around-the-house torture phase. We're working really hard to get him to understand the word ouchie and that he can, in fact, inflict pain on others. And that inflicting pain on others isn't funny. And then Tim CHUCKS ANOTHER FOOTBALL AT ELMO'S HEAD, laughing. Elmo faceplanted and I'm pretty sure Ben laughed, though my memory is already a little fuzzy.

Women's intuition is better.

A hormonal basket case was I.

As I was perusing the internet recently, I ran across an article about weaning depression and I was all HALLELUJAH! SO YOU MEAN IT REALLY EXISTS?! I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO WENT A LITTLE LOCO EN LA CABEZA, if you know what I mean (translation: crazy in da head)?

This little ole article inspired me to dig up a few little ole blog posts in my drafts that never saw the light of day. I had every intention of publishing them, but I just...didn't. I guess all it took was another person saying, "Hey! I'm here and I, too, had some crazy moments amidst the weaning!" These long-lost entries will explain the way weaning went down MUCH better than I ever could now.

"It's been four days of weaning. FOUR MISERABLE DAYS! I had visions of making it to a year. I guess the best of intentions don't mean crap. So why is my body not cooperating? Have I lost all my milk because I pumped too early? But Ben had jaundice and his pediatrician said I had to pump and supplement. Is it because I went out a few times without him and Tim bottle fed him while I didn't pump like a good breast-feeder should? My baby was not supposed to be on full-formula at seven months. This isn't the way I had it all mapped out in my head. And I'm too neurotic to cope with things not going as planned (There, I said it. I'm neurotic.) Anyway, I feel all foggy and...just...off. I'm not myself today. Wasn't really myself yesterday either. When does this go away?"

"Can you develop PPD this late in the game? I mean, I've been fine up until now and then WHAM. I got slapped across the face with the PPD monster. Or something. Is there such a thing as PWD (post weaning depression...oh, I'm clever)? If there's not, there should be. They don't tell you about this in birthing class. I feel like my baby is so grown up already that tomorrow he'll kiss me good-bye as he packs his car and heads for college. That's not irrational, right? Also, is it irrational that I feel that I have no purpose now that Ben's all weaned up?"

"I haven't breastfed in a month now. This is a dirty, evil game that my body is playing on me. Like, isn't it enough that I survived pregnancy hormones, then made it out of the the postpartum phase alive and with my senses intact? I'm so tired of being angry."

"Today was an ungood day. I had to ask Tim to come home from work because I couldn't handle being a mom. Who does that? Tomorrow will be better."

That was my last post. Three months into weaning and the clouds literally parted. One day I was terrible and the next day I was normal. God I hate hormones.

At least I can laugh about it now.

A hormonal basket case was I.

As I was perusing the internet recently, I ran across an article about weaning depression and I was all HALLELUJAH! SO YOU MEAN IT REALLY EXISTS?! I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO WENT A LITTLE LOCO EN LA CABEZA, if you know what I mean (translation: crazy in da head)?

This little ole article inspired me to dig up a few little ole blog posts in my drafts that never saw the light of day. I had every intention of publishing them, but I just...didn't. I guess all it took was another person saying, "Hey! I'm here and I, too, had some crazy moments amidst the weaning!" These long-lost entries will explain the way weaning went down MUCH better than I ever could now.

"It's been four days of weaning. FOUR MISERABLE DAYS! I had visions of making it to a year. I guess the best of intentions don't mean crap. So why is my body not cooperating? Have I lost all my milk because I pumped too early? But Ben had jaundice and his pediatrician said I had to pump and supplement. Is it because I went out a few times without him and Tim bottle fed him while I didn't pump like a good breast-feeder should? My baby was not supposed to be on full-formula at seven months. This isn't the way I had it all mapped out in my head. And I'm too neurotic to cope with things not going as planned (There, I said it. I'm neurotic.) Anyway, I feel all foggy and...just...off. I'm not myself today. Wasn't really myself yesterday either. When does this go away?"

"Can you develop PPD this late in the game? I mean, I've been fine up until now and then WHAM. I got slapped across the face with the PPD monster. Or something. Is there such a thing as PWD (post weaning depression...oh, I'm clever)? If there's not, there should be. They don't tell you about this in birthing class. I feel like my baby is so grown up already that tomorrow he'll kiss me good-bye as he packs his car and heads for college. That's not irrational, right? Also, is it irrational that I feel that I have no purpose now that Ben's all weaned up?"

"I haven't breastfed in a month now. This is a dirty, evil game that my body is playing on me. Like, isn't it enough that I survived pregnancy hormones, then made it out of the the postpartum phase alive and with my senses intact? I'm so tired of being angry."

"Today was an ungood day. I had to ask Tim to come home from work because I couldn't handle being a mom. Who does that? Tomorrow will be better."

That was my last post. Three months into weaning and the clouds literally parted. One day I was terrible and the next day I was normal. God I hate hormones.

At least I can laugh about it now.

Insomniac.

Last winter, after Ben was born, I had a mild case of I-don't-ever-want-to-go-to-sleep-because-I-never-get-alone-time-anymore. The use of the word mild is putting it...mildly. One night, in fact, I stayed up until 8:00. AM, people! I quietly slid into bed just as Ben was waking for the morning, and Tim looked over at me like I'd lost my mind. And then he took over baby duty until I woke up at - get this - 3:00. PM!

I thought this sleeplessness thing was something new moms just did. As normal as breastfeeding and changing diapers and washing thousands of loads of laundry! Once Spring hit, I kissed insomnia goodbye and settled in for months of good sleep. I never even looked back!

Now it's 3:00 AM and I'm awake, staring zombie-eyed into this computer screen in my new basement office (it's kind of dungeon-y down here, but I like it - pictures later!). WHY can't I drag myself to bed? I'm pretty sure I haven't had a child recently (did I miss something?), so this is obviously now a case of the winters, not a case of the just-had-a-baby.

To entertain myself in the wee hours of the morning, I've discovered StumbleUpon. What rock have I been hiding under? This site is AWESOME! I always see people tweeting about it but I thought it was just another one of those things that would be too overwhelming for me (like, er, Twitter), so I never even bothered checking it out. But laaaate last night, when I was STILL AWAKE, I saw yet another mention of it on some blog I follow. So I created an account and then I got sucked into this crazy world of StumbleUpon! You check a few boxes of things that interest you and then you hit the Stumble! button over and over and over and OVER and OVER! Pretty soon, you're discovering all the hidden jewels of the interwebs.

Like, did you know there's an entire website devoted to eyebrow shapes?

And one called the Amazon Filler Finder where you enter the amount you need to get to that magical $25.00 for FREE shipping and they'll find an item for that price?

And in case you need to know how to talk like a 12 year old, there's an English-to-12-year-old-AOLer-translator! You type in a sentence or a paragraph or whatever suits your fancy and, what do you know, they translate it! For fun, let's try it out.

Me: I would really like to go to sleep. Sleep would be very nice. I'm so tired. WHY AM I STILL AWAKE? Somebody come drag me away from the computer! My under-eye bags will thank you.

Translated to 12-year-old speak: I WUD RILLY LIEK 2 GO 2 SLEP!!1!1!!11 OMG SLEP WUD B VERY NIEC!1!1!11 WTF IMM SO TIERD!!1!! OMG WTF LOL Y M I STIL AWAEK?!!!?! OMG LOL SOM3BODY COMA DRAG MA AWAY FROM TEH COMPUTAR!!!!!1 WTF LOL MAH UNDER-3YE BAGS WIL THANK U!11!!!!!1 OMG

Oh, kids these days.

Then I ran across some real gems, like this:



This is an excerpt from a 1950 edition of Popular Mechanics. It was a prediction of the future. Bah! Don't I wish.

Then there's the Museum of Menstruation. I won't elaborate. Proceed if you dare.

If you're scared of the impending zombie invasion, you are not alone.

Oh man, I could go on for hours. And I probably will, but I'll spare you.

Insomniac.

Last winter, after Ben was born, I had a mild case of I-don't-ever-want-to-go-to-sleep-because-I-never-get-alone-time-anymore. The use of the word mild is putting it...mildly. One night, in fact, I stayed up until 8:00. AM, people! I quietly slid into bed just as Ben was waking for the morning, and Tim looked over at me like I'd lost my mind. And then he took over baby duty until I woke up at - get this - 3:00. PM!

I thought this sleeplessness thing was something new moms just did. As normal as breastfeeding and changing diapers and washing thousands of loads of laundry! Once Spring hit, I kissed insomnia goodbye and settled in for months of good sleep. I never even looked back!

Now it's 3:00 AM and I'm awake, staring zombie-eyed into this computer screen in my new basement office (it's kind of dungeon-y down here, but I like it - pictures later!). WHY can't I drag myself to bed? I'm pretty sure I haven't had a child recently (did I miss something?), so this is obviously now a case of the winters, not a case of the just-had-a-baby.

To entertain myself in the wee hours of the morning, I've discovered StumbleUpon. What rock have I been hiding under? This site is AWESOME! I always see people tweeting about it but I thought it was just another one of those things that would be too overwhelming for me (like, er, Twitter), so I never even bothered checking it out. But laaaate last night, when I was STILL AWAKE, I saw yet another mention of it on some blog I follow. So I created an account and then I got sucked into this crazy world of StumbleUpon! You check a few boxes of things that interest you and then you hit the Stumble! button over and over and over and OVER and OVER! Pretty soon, you're discovering all the hidden jewels of the interwebs.

Like, did you know there's an entire website devoted to eyebrow shapes?

And one called the Amazon Filler Finder where you enter the amount you need to get to that magical $25.00 for FREE shipping and they'll find an item for that price?

And in case you need to know how to talk like a 12 year old, there's an English-to-12-year-old-AOLer-translator! You type in a sentence or a paragraph or whatever suits your fancy and, what do you know, they translate it! For fun, let's try it out.

Me: I would really like to go to sleep. Sleep would be very nice. I'm so tired. WHY AM I STILL AWAKE? Somebody come drag me away from the computer! My under-eye bags will thank you.

Translated to 12-year-old speak: I WUD RILLY LIEK 2 GO 2 SLEP!!1!1!!11 OMG SLEP WUD B VERY NIEC!1!1!11 WTF IMM SO TIERD!!1!! OMG WTF LOL Y M I STIL AWAEK?!!!?! OMG LOL SOM3BODY COMA DRAG MA AWAY FROM TEH COMPUTAR!!!!!1 WTF LOL MAH UNDER-3YE BAGS WIL THANK U!11!!!!!1 OMG

Oh, kids these days.

Then I ran across some real gems, like this:



This is an excerpt from a 1950 edition of Popular Mechanics. It was a prediction of the future. Bah! Don't I wish.

Then there's the Museum of Menstruation. I won't elaborate. Proceed if you dare.

If you're scared of the impending zombie invasion, you are not alone.

Oh man, I could go on for hours. And I probably will, but I'll spare you.

2010: The year of the resolutions that I may or may not keep because I'm typically not that good at keeping resolutions.

SORRY, I LOST A BIG CHUNK OF THE PICTURES ON MY OLD BLOG POSTS WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED SOME PICASA ALBUMS.  SAD FACE. :(

At the beginning of each new year, I embark on a journey. I make a resolution and blah, blah, blah. At the end of each said year, I end up feeling like crap because I failed to keep my resolutions. It's the same old story.

This year, I vowed to be different. This year I said I'd make no resolutions. Why set myself up for disappointment? That's a justification I use all the time. Just ask my husband, the eternal optimist. He sets himself up for disappointment quite a bit, and many times he faces disappointment. But you know what? He's a happy guy. If you've followed my personal blog in the past or you follow me on facebook, I'm sure you see me plastering pictures like this up all the time:












My husband is a happy guy! Have you ever seen someone so excited to shovel snow? Sure, he gets sad when the weather man says we're going to get eight inches of snow and we only end up with half an inch. But his excitement and happiness over the possible snow outweighs the little bit of disappointment. And he's just...happy. Have I mentioned that? So I decided to take a cue from him this year. Why is the risk of disappointment more important to me than the joy of living life positively? So, having said all that, here is my list of resolutions. I'd say that I'm dead serious about keeping every single one of them but in all honesty, I'll falter somewhere. What I will say is that I am going to try my hardest, because these are a list of things that I very much want to accomplish this year (in no particular order).

1. Grow my marriage.

My mom bought Tim and I a series of parenting books by John Rosemond for Christmas. I already knew that I agreed with a lot of his principles after reading several of his columns so I was really excited to begin reading his books! Though his ideas are seen as a little harsh these days, I can't help but agree with him that parents of former generations had it mostly figured out. It's kids nowadays that are having more and more serious issues. It's time to "believe in yesterday", as he puts it. One point he likes to drive home is to leave your baby. Go on dates, go on extended weekend trips, take your baby to church daycare, etc. He stresses a once-a-week date night; dinner, movie or both. While I don't think that's financially feasible for our family, I'm going to set a goal of twice a month dates. My marriage to my husband should be the most important thing in my life. As Rosemond says, your marriage is (generally) there before the child and (should be) there after the child leaves home. The most important thing you can give a child is an example of a happy and fulfilled marriage. If a child has that, he feels secure and is likely to emulate the same thing in his own marriage.

Oh, and I highly recommend his books!

2. Grow my relationship with God.

It's not really a secret that my relationship with God isn't where it should be. I didn't grow up in the church. We joined in high school, where I became quite active, but I found myself growing farther and farther away from Him in the past few years. This isn't how I want to raise my child(ren) and it's not how I want to live, either. When I'm at Church, I feel at peace and I feel my happiest. I'm joining MOPS at a local church in a few weeks and we've found a Church we really love that we plan to become members of. In addition, I'd really like to join a parenting group at our Church with Tim.


3. Set a budget & switch to an envelope system.

I like to pretend that we try our best to live as frugally as possible, but that really isn't the truth. We buy Starbucks (we as in I), we stop by Cinnabon at least once a week (we as in Tim), we go out too eat too often and we don't follow a strict budget. How can we say we're living frugally? Sure, I cut coupons and scour the internet for the best deals, but is that enough? I say no. I've been reluctant to fall into the "Dave Ramsey Trap," as I like to call it, but the more I learn about his system, the more I'm starting to get it. My mom taught me the envelope system years ago and now we're re-implementing it! Beginning...well...now, we're switching to a mostly cash system. We'll sit down right before payday and readjust our budget for the following month based on whatever necessary factors there are. Then we'll pay all the bills we have to pay out of our checking account before we head to the bank to get some cold hard cash. Ramsey says it's harder to spend cash than chuck over your debit card. It makes sense, so let's see if that's the case with us. I'm most excited about realizing my limits. When the cash in the grocery fund envelopes is gone, it's gone. I'd like to pay down our (as in my) debt and start making bigger car and house payments.

4. Get organized for real.

You might remember my Minimalism posts that ran several months ago. I really made some headway in getting our new house in order, but there's a lot left to do. This year I want to accomplish two things: get organized and stay organized. The stay part is the tough one for me. My once gleaming closets are already a little embarrassing. I haven't decided how I'll accomplish that yet, but suggestions are more than welcome! :) I'll be posting along the way!


5. Get in shape for good.



I had a baby in 2008. They say, "It takes nine months to put on, expect nine months to take it off!" They are, indeed, correct. They didn't mention that for some of us less fortunate souls, nine months can turn into 12. Sadly, it took a whopping 12 months to hit that magical pre-pregnancy number on the scale. But even when I hit it, I was two sizes up from pre-pregnancy. Still am, actually. I can squeeze myself into my old clothes, but it ain't a pretty sight! So I'd like to spend 2010 not only losing another ten pounds, but getting toned. I've got the Shred loaded in my DVD player and I'm ready to do it five days a week. The hubs has finally agreed with me that we need a treadmill, but it's kind of conflicting with resolution number three.

So there you have it! Now I'll print this out, hang it on my mirror and pound it all into my head on the daily. I suppose resolution six could be to keep my resolutions for once!

2010: The year of the resolutions that I may or may not keep because I'm typically not that good at keeping resolutions.

SORRY, I LOST A BIG CHUNK OF THE PICTURES ON MY OLD BLOG POSTS WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED SOME PICASA ALBUMS.  SAD FACE. :(

At the beginning of each new year, I embark on a journey. I make a resolution and blah, blah, blah. At the end of each said year, I end up feeling like crap because I failed to keep my resolutions. It's the same old story.

This year, I vowed to be different. This year I said I'd make no resolutions. Why set myself up for disappointment? That's a justification I use all the time. Just ask my husband, the eternal optimist. He sets himself up for disappointment quite a bit, and many times he faces disappointment. But you know what? He's a happy guy. If you've followed my personal blog in the past or you follow me on facebook, I'm sure you see me plastering pictures like this up all the time:












My husband is a happy guy! Have you ever seen someone so excited to shovel snow? Sure, he gets sad when the weather man says we're going to get eight inches of snow and we only end up with half an inch. But his excitement and happiness over the possible snow outweighs the little bit of disappointment. And he's just...happy. Have I mentioned that? So I decided to take a cue from him this year. Why is the risk of disappointment more important to me than the joy of living life positively? So, having said all that, here is my list of resolutions. I'd say that I'm dead serious about keeping every single one of them but in all honesty, I'll falter somewhere. What I will say is that I am going to try my hardest, because these are a list of things that I very much want to accomplish this year (in no particular order).

1. Grow my marriage.

My mom bought Tim and I a series of parenting books by John Rosemond for Christmas. I already knew that I agreed with a lot of his principles after reading several of his columns so I was really excited to begin reading his books! Though his ideas are seen as a little harsh these days, I can't help but agree with him that parents of former generations had it mostly figured out. It's kids nowadays that are having more and more serious issues. It's time to "believe in yesterday", as he puts it. One point he likes to drive home is to leave your baby. Go on dates, go on extended weekend trips, take your baby to church daycare, etc. He stresses a once-a-week date night; dinner, movie or both. While I don't think that's financially feasible for our family, I'm going to set a goal of twice a month dates. My marriage to my husband should be the most important thing in my life. As Rosemond says, your marriage is (generally) there before the child and (should be) there after the child leaves home. The most important thing you can give a child is an example of a happy and fulfilled marriage. If a child has that, he feels secure and is likely to emulate the same thing in his own marriage.

Oh, and I highly recommend his books!

2. Grow my relationship with God.

It's not really a secret that my relationship with God isn't where it should be. I didn't grow up in the church. We joined in high school, where I became quite active, but I found myself growing farther and farther away from Him in the past few years. This isn't how I want to raise my child(ren) and it's not how I want to live, either. When I'm at Church, I feel at peace and I feel my happiest. I'm joining MOPS at a local church in a few weeks and we've found a Church we really love that we plan to become members of. In addition, I'd really like to join a parenting group at our Church with Tim.


3. Set a budget & switch to an envelope system.

I like to pretend that we try our best to live as frugally as possible, but that really isn't the truth. We buy Starbucks (we as in I), we stop by Cinnabon at least once a week (we as in Tim), we go out too eat too often and we don't follow a strict budget. How can we say we're living frugally? Sure, I cut coupons and scour the internet for the best deals, but is that enough? I say no. I've been reluctant to fall into the "Dave Ramsey Trap," as I like to call it, but the more I learn about his system, the more I'm starting to get it. My mom taught me the envelope system years ago and now we're re-implementing it! Beginning...well...now, we're switching to a mostly cash system. We'll sit down right before payday and readjust our budget for the following month based on whatever necessary factors there are. Then we'll pay all the bills we have to pay out of our checking account before we head to the bank to get some cold hard cash. Ramsey says it's harder to spend cash than chuck over your debit card. It makes sense, so let's see if that's the case with us. I'm most excited about realizing my limits. When the cash in the grocery fund envelopes is gone, it's gone. I'd like to pay down our (as in my) debt and start making bigger car and house payments.

4. Get organized for real.

You might remember my Minimalism posts that ran several months ago. I really made some headway in getting our new house in order, but there's a lot left to do. This year I want to accomplish two things: get organized and stay organized. The stay part is the tough one for me. My once gleaming closets are already a little embarrassing. I haven't decided how I'll accomplish that yet, but suggestions are more than welcome! :) I'll be posting along the way!


5. Get in shape for good.



I had a baby in 2008. They say, "It takes nine months to put on, expect nine months to take it off!" They are, indeed, correct. They didn't mention that for some of us less fortunate souls, nine months can turn into 12. Sadly, it took a whopping 12 months to hit that magical pre-pregnancy number on the scale. But even when I hit it, I was two sizes up from pre-pregnancy. Still am, actually. I can squeeze myself into my old clothes, but it ain't a pretty sight! So I'd like to spend 2010 not only losing another ten pounds, but getting toned. I've got the Shred loaded in my DVD player and I'm ready to do it five days a week. The hubs has finally agreed with me that we need a treadmill, but it's kind of conflicting with resolution number three.

So there you have it! Now I'll print this out, hang it on my mirror and pound it all into my head on the daily. I suppose resolution six could be to keep my resolutions for once!