I am so that person

As most of you know, I am a bargain hunter, deal seaker, frugal gal. Let's be honest-I'm cheap. I love having things, but hate spending money. I do love a good deal as well. Why pay more? could be my mantra.
So I live for Wednesdays. That's when Publix lists their new Buy One Get One Free items for the week. Lately they have been in a slump as far as I'm concerned. But today, they brought their A game. They had my all time fave-80 count Lysol wipes BOGO. Plus you can always get a coupon for this online. Being freaked out by all the germs floating around out there, this could not have come at a better time. So I talk myself into just 2 and picked up a couple other goodies like chicken fries and chewies (also for dirt cheap since Publix will double coupons 50 cents and under, but I digress).
This is the embarrassing part. I get to the register and my total is $20.57. Major Dilemma. I have a coupon from an entertainment book for $5 off $25. If I go back for 2 more Lysol bottles I could have them for free. But there's a line behind me and all my stuff is rung up and bagged. I dither, but decide to go for it. "Um, is there anyway I can go add a couple more things? Of course I would get out of line and let all these people have their turn." I may be crazy coupon lady but I'm not my poop doesn't stink lady.
Apparently, I'm not the only dork to pull this stunt. She can save my total and add to it. I'm giddy as I dash off for more Lysol. We sail through a second time and my total comes to $24.55. Seriously? I grab a pack of Fruit Mentos which Miss C loves. Random I know but they are quite tasty. This puts us over the minimum and my total is $20 even.
Sadly, this is the most exciting thing to happen to me all week. Granted Miss C has been under the weather and we have been stuck at home. But I'm gonna go out on a limb and say this would still have been a highlight regardless. It certainly tops the fabric I purchased to recover my kitchen chairs that I truly hate and will be taking back in hopes of finding something else. Shouldn't be that hard-I've only looked with no hope for the past 2 months.
Ugh, I need a life.

Less is sometimes more

My sweet lovey is a perfect example of the child who is just as content with the packaging as she is the actual toy inside. The more I watch her the more I am inspired by her imagination and ingenuity and tickled by the sweetness of her childhood.
On my dad's last visit she snagged two pairs of earplugs-treasure. We are constantly filling the squirt bottle we use to wet her hair-surpasses any bath toy. Just tonight I was stacking toss pillows and covering them with a blanket to make 'snow' she then dives into-huge fun. The tent Hubs made using blankets and chairs-her favorite place right now to sing and read and make shadow puppets. And my all time favorite-Soot, her imaginary friend who is a constant companion, with the occasional visit from Six and Bodie.
These are the moments of motherhood that are so precious.

And so it begins

It's already happening. Miss C is making friends and pulling away from embarrassing old mom. Not friends her age, but older friends. We have two precious neighbors who are about 8 years old. And Miss C adores them. Worships them. Emulates them. They do headstands and cartwheels, she does a somersault. They ride Razor scooters, we now own a Radio Flyer version, pink with flowers. If Miss C takes a tumble in front of them she tells me, "No Mama!! Don't help me!" mortified that I might kiss her boo-boo. Crossing the street she will shake off my hand. That one broke my heart. Friday night they actually rang the doorbell and asked if Miss C could come out and play. It really is a blessing to have such gracious girls who will humor her and let her tag along. If only Miss C knew how badly her Mama wanted to tag along with her.

So much to say....

not much that's important, newsworthy, or brilliant. Pretty much business as usual.
First I am terrified of the stinking Swine Flu. I typically do not pay attention to these things. I worry more about Miss C escaping from our condo at the beach and plunging to her death. That's what keeps me up at night. So much so that she slept with us two nights and I slept in her room the other three. But I digress. The Swine Flu seems to be running rampant through schools here, and Miss C starts MDO in less than two weeks. And the flu vaccine is not available at her pediatrician until late September. Think she would wear a mask all day at school?

Next random thought-I am so, so, so lucky to be a stay at home mommy. Sometimes I feel sorry for myself, especially when Miss C is being age appropriate. Spending 24/7 with a toddler really can fray your nerves. Then I have a reality check. I attended a conference last week as I'm keeping my license current for when Miss C goes to big girl school. Anyway, my day started at 5:45. I schlepp over to a dear friends house who graciously watched my little monkey for the day. I then head downtown fighting rush hour traffic and pay to park. I sit in a room and learned how to address my anger. This topic is actually interesting and pertinent to my personal life. We break for lunch and I eat a meal with adults and no children. Probably the best part of the day. I return to my seat and realize the 'professional' sitting beside me has bathed in liqour over her lunchbreak. Seriously, I was buzzed just sitting next to her. This typically does not happen at a therapy conference. In fact I would have pegged her for an addictions therapist. Then again maybe she was, just relapsed. Finally the conference is over and I race to my baby. I have missed her. I collect my girl and head home to veg. We leave for the beach in less than two days but I'm pooped from my day. I thank Hubs profusely when he gets home. I know this is a typical, if even easy day for most professional women. They work double time and put me to shame for sure. I love staying home with my little monkey and even a day at her worst is better than anything else.
And finally-we have just returned from the beach. It was heavenly, perfect and over way too soon. I tend to have annoying luck. I wouldn't say 'bad' luck-I am very blessed with a healthy child, hard working hubby, and many other gifts. But if the coke machine is gonna take someone's money, it's gonna be mine. So for us to have a fabulous vacay free from minor annoyances, major victory. And that's just what we had. Our condo was gorgeous. The weather was phenomenal-I never broke a sweat. Miss C played and had nonstop fun which warmed my heart. The restaurants had outside playgrounds to keep Miss C occupied and content. Hubs napped everyday and got caught up on some much needed sleep. I found the Rachel Zoe Project which is mindless, delicious television. It was simply the best vacay we have ever had as a family. As we pulled away I had tears in my eyes. Miss C waved and said, "Bye trip, we'll be back soon!" My sentiments exactly.

Missing blogging mommy found

No, I'm not dead. At least not physically. Mentally yes. As a kid you count down the days to summer vacation. As a parent you spin frantically trying to keep your child stimulated and entertained, hopefully with educational events like trips to the library and nature hikes. Or in my case the free movies and shopping. Now that summer is drawing to a close I feel like I'm regaining my footing.
Plus I'm leaving for the beach soon and nothing can dampen this spectacular mood I am in.
So I'm gonna try and catch up and get back on track. I'm also thinking about a new blog format that is more like Twitter. Little snipets and snatches of my day or whatever fleeting thought I have at that moment. An entire post is just too much for my addled brain at this point and I'm not ready to give up blogging altogether.
So the latest:
Miss C hid today for 5 minutes and I lost at least 20 years of my life from raw terror. She hid well and didn't make a peep, even when I screamed in panic for her. I looked in closets, cabinets, pantries, under beds. Looking back I knew she had not left the house, had to be inside, but I was terrified she had gotten into something-choked, strangled, poisened-that prevented her from speaking. Nope. She was just hiding and popped out like I was not about to collapse.

Words of wisdom:
Miss C: Blankets are scary.
Me: Not really.
Miss C: You're right. But I'll tell you what is scary-vacuum cleaners.
Me: To you and me both sister.

Oh yeah, and the best part of our summer-Miss C is offically potty trained and we may now be able to afford to send her to college. Life is good.

With this ring...

Eight years ago to the day I was a woman on a mission. A desperate woman. A woman with visions of dresses and cakes dominating every waking thought and breath. I wanted to get engaged and get married. This was not out of the question since I already had the guy all picked out. But for once I was not in control or calling the shots. This was Hubs domain and he was taking his sweet time.
For those of you who don't know I picked Hubs up at a Walgreens. I saw him, wanted him, and left my phone number on his car. Tacky. yes. I would not recommend this strategy for finding a spouse. It worked for me but I might be the only success story. A year and a half later I was ready for happy ever after.
So he takes me to Gulf Shores for the weekend. My little heart is racing-this has to be it!! But me being me, I can't wait. I need confirmation. I drop hints. I hug him awkwardly and often feeling for that ring box. And then the ultimate in disgusting behavior. I search his luggage while he's indisposed. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I am crushed. Devastated. Inconsolable. But I can't let on that I've been searching or he would know how crazy I am. So I put on a brave face and we head to dinnner. Tha facade cracks and I cry during dinner. I mean come on, am I a catch or what? Who wouldn't propose?!
After dinner we stroll down the beach. Hubs is acting ner-vous but I ignore it. We're holding hands amd he let's go of my hand to switch his drink can. His claim-his hand was getting cold. Weird. Actually his thought was-What if this pocket has a hole and her engagement ring falls out? Wouldn't that suck? This is all too much for him and he steers me to a beach chair. He drops to one knee and says , "Will you be my wife?" That really is what he said, I'll remember it always. I'm sure my mouth dropped open while I scrambled for him and the ring.
The best part of the story-Hubs already knew I was crazy and loved me anyway. He knew I would search for the ring. He hid it in a pair of socks. Eight years later he still knows me. He knows I'm crazy, prone to crying, and that when I get hungry I am one cranky gal. And lucky me, he still loves me anyway.

Lessons Learned at Sugarland

I was able to treat myself to a most favorite indulgence~a concert. I love them. Hubs could not care less. I'd go so far as to say he does not care to attend them. Me? I'm a dancing, singing fool, loving every single moment. Sugarland was in town last night and some gal pals and I scored crazy cheap seats so off we went. Little did I know in addition to a rocking good time would I learn or experience so very much.
I quickly learned a $5 Sprite while exhorbitant is necessary at an outdoor concert in 90+ degree heat.
I remembered that despite said heat young love birds will wrap themselves all over one another as their passion will not allow any distance to separate them.
I berated myself for my poor choice in shoes. They seemed a perfect choice as they matched my earrings and necklace making my outfit pop. However a wedge is not conducive to prolonged dancing and booty shaking.
I realized empowering music about love and relationships is fun to sing even when you've been married for 7 years and have a toddler waiting for you at home. In fact it makes you pretty grateful to sing about not settling for anything less than everything.
I accepted my age and generation when the group did a fun medley of songs from 1993 that I loved while the teens and college kids had never even heard the tunes. Some had not even been born in 1993. Return of the Mack was lost on them.
And finally I relished in the security of returning home to Hubs and Miss C. To a toy strewn living room and Miss C not in jammies but the clothes she had worn all day. Just like it should be. My own little Everyday America.