And So It Begins...

Okay, I've been taking an extended hiatus from my blog...I know.  Somehow I decided that I deserved a "Summer Vacation" from self promoting and decided that I would come back to my little project in the fall.  (Side note: did you know you shouldn't capitalize seasons? I had to Google that.)  If you're like me, fall is a second chance at conquering your New Year's resolutions. It's a time to give it your all (for a week) again!  So I'm going to see if I can start squeezing in a few blogs while Emery is hard at work conquering his grueling 3 hour schedule at a place where a good day means you didn't need your "emergency clothing" conveniently kept near the pint-sized restrooms. 

Ahhhh......preschool.  You've been a long time coming, my friend!  Maybe not every parent anxiously awaited for the momentousness "first day" to arrive with the same anticipation as myself.  But I bet those are the same parents that have a well-used craft bin at home with pipe cleaners, glue sticks, and other little dollar store finds that can be made into toddler projects whenever inspiration strikes (yep...I'm talking to you Pamela Susan!)  Notice I said a well-used bin.  Don't get me wrong, I have all of those things.  I'm not sure where they are and they definitely aren't opened, but I have them.  In any case, as a work-at-home mom with two toddler schedules to juggle, I have to be honest and say I'm not breaking out the glue gun that often. But I digress....

What I was trying to get at is that although I'm not winning any awards for a strongly structured home pre-preschool curriculum, I've always known that when the day arrived for Emery to start school, I wanted to be one of the parents who make it a priority to be involved.  This was heavily foreshadowed by my own childhood tendencies where I did things like begging to stay after recess to help the aides pick up balls so my "go home slip" would have a gold star instead of just a check.  And that was only first grade!  Fast forward to afternoons where I was up to my elbows in tempera* paint making student council posters and it's not shocking that my kids might develop a strategy to hide parent volunteer forms from me. Speaking of tempera paint, I bought some for Emery's classroom (even though it was the optional supplies list) just because the smell brought back fond elementary school memories the same way the sight of Elmer's Glue still makes me think of that kid (name withheld) who used to spread it on his hand until it dried and peel it off like it was dead skin.  I bet if he has his own kids, he taught them this nifty little trick in an effort to pass the legacy on!  I base that assumption on the fact that even though my over-involvement is embarrassing to admit, I can't shake it from my DNA 15 years later!

As you can imagine, when I got an email saying the very first PTO meeting was taking place in the church basement I cleared my schedule to make an appearance.  But seeing as the preschool is connected to a private school with children who've been attending for up to 7 years, I knew I would be low man on the totem pole and tricked my husband into coming with me.  "It's a parent's meeting Luke, everyone will be there!"  Ha!  Everyone was not there.  Am I the only one who got the letter? Or the only one that cared?  In all fairness they only gave us 2 days warning so I'm imagining very few people had the same flexibility to attend. But regardless I had just walked into a private meeting with the principle, two other moms, and the office administrator.  So I sat there and very awkwardly kept my mouth shut in a meeting where the seasoned pros went back and forth with inside jokes that I'm assuming might be funny to me if I had a 5th grader who took art literacy last year.  It was a very narrow audience they were appealing to if you catch my drift. They were very nice women, but I couldn't have jumped in there with an ice breaker if I tried!  We did finally have a chance to contribute to the meeting though.  When conversation worked its way to volunteerism, it was suggested that parents could offer their natural skill to help out.   

PTO Mom:  "So if someone likes to cold call, they can volunteer to cold call for us!"

Luke: "Yeah....good luck finding a cold caller. Solid idea"

Needless to say that if we weren't on the radar two weeks ago, we are now.

(*Edited because tempura is a batter and tempera is a paint!  You failed me spellcheck!)

Here are some pictures of Emery on his first day.  Joking aside, We really do love his new school and everyone there has been amazing!

He kept doing this!

So proud of his "big boy" backpack!

"Leave already mom!"

The Death Road

How was your Memorial Weekend?!

I wish I were going to follow up that question with a drawn out recap of how amazing my Memorial Weekend was, but there are a few things in the way of that happening:

1. I live in Oregon so Memorial Day weekend is generally an indoor activity.
2. I have kids.

Okay, okay! I realize that I am blessed to have kids and in theory that increases the importance of family time during these rare three day weekends.  In theory, however, family time doesn't include chasing a 15 month old in non "baby-proofed" environments thus eliminating any chance of actually having a conversation with another human being that doesn't involve the phrases, "No No!" and "Icky Icky!"  So instead of hopping in our car (after taking out a second mortgage to fill er' up) and creating memories at the beach or on a camping trip like the rest of America, we chose to spend most of the weekend in the good old Schultz house.   It's so relaxing to be in our own little bubble where every light socket is plugged and you can't go into a room without disarming a baby gate that rivals MIT in the level of intelligence required to be granted entrance. (Sidenote:  Do they use these baby gates in wartime strategies?  They should!  A retina scan security point would be easier to fake your way through than trying to figure out where to press one of those gates to unlock it!)

Anyway, because I was home (and my husband was here to help with the bath times and potty emergencies) I kind of went into this trance of laziness that my parental responsibilities wouldn't normally allow for.  This would be better explained if I just came clean and told you that I watched 6 hours of Netflix and made a frozen pizza for lunch.  I bet you're wondering what I could possibly watch for 6 hours?  You probably think it was Lifetime movies or The Real Housewives of Bankruptcy?  Nope....not even close!  It was Ice Road Truckers.   More Specifically....."Ice Road Truckers - World's Deadliest Roads." You see, besides "jean hoarding", another secret of mine is obsessive internet research.  For example, that is how I became "crazy tsunami lady" and scared myself into taking my kids to wave pools for all of life instead of the Oregon Coast. All it took was 12 hours of scientific article reading, youtube vidoes, and wikipedia. It was cheaper than another college degree and I probably retained 3 times as much information because I wasn't preoccupied with what I was planning on wearing to "Taco Tuesday" that night.

But waaaaaaaaay before tsunamis, I went through a phase where I couldn't learn enough about the deadliest roads in the world. I have no idea why this fascinates me considering the fact that if there is so much as "chain advisory" while going over the Government Camp Pass, I want to turn back and enjoy a nice afternoon in Sandy where we can admire Mt. Hood from afar.  Regardless, the one road I was particularly amazed by is this road in Bolivia nicknamed, "The Death Road." Have any of you heard of this road?  It's like a one lane gravel road with an unsecured cliff on one side and oh......just a mere 3000-6000 foot drop off on the other side with no guard rail.  Can you even imagine?!?!  And people drive down that thing every day! It's insane.  ABSOLUTELY INSANE!! So I was beyond captivated watching 6 hours of North American truckers driving on very similar roads in the Indian Himalayas in trucks that look like they were made out of toothpicks.  At least Indians have a sense of style and decorate their toothpick trucks with a whole bunch of metallic streamers that look like they belong adorning the handles of banana seat bikes. Hey, If you're going die, I say why not do it flamboyantly!?  We could all learn something from their stylistic optimism!

I, for one, felt guilty wasting so much time on a wonder of the world that I have NO intention of ever visiting.  But I think God was giving me a pass on my laziness this time because as luck would have it, Luke had some relatives in town this weekend that he hadn't seen forever.  And wouldn't you know it, they lived in Bolivia of all places!  So before I could finish introducing myself as Luke's wife I was screaming over a crowd of in-laws, "Hey...have you ever been on the Death Road?"  And not only had they been on it, it was their road to work!  I could have listened attentively to hours of stories about this subject. If Terry (our esteemed Death Road driver) had ever wanted a captive audience - he had one now.  I was both sad and relieved that he said the danger is kind of sensationalized for television documentaries. But I bet he is just conditioned to say that so his wife didn't spend her every waking hour in prayer for his safety!

I'm not sure where I'm going with this.  But if you're bored....it's a topic you can google or something.

Hope you had a great weekend!

Ummm....if this is my way to work, I'll starve thanks!

PS, a very sincere "Thank You" to all of our Nation's Armed Forces past and present!  I'm incredibly passionate about respecting these people, their families, and all they risk to protect our nation!  Even something as simple as writing this blog today is possible because of your tireless work to keep this a nation of freedom. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

And......We're Back!

So it's been awhile since my last post.  I've been thinking about writing for some time but the problem was that I didn't know where to start!  I have so many "this is what we did" stories and pictures, but after a month of no updates I wasn't sure which qualified as crossing that line into interesting and worthwhile reading.  But then again, not much I write about is ground breaking journalism to begin with. That is unless, you too, understand why finding a missing Spider-Man head can be the dividing line between a great day or one that makes you question your past birth control choices.

So....hmmmmm....let me see. I guess I'll do a mini-update!  Tsunamis:  I conquered my fear and went back to the beach!  Let me be extra clear that this was only because it was Luke's company trip and because there was a free massage involved.  So with heavy relaxation in mind, we left the kids behind and headed to Salishan Resort where I would have one very peaceful nights sleep that wouldn't end with Handy Manny at 5:30 in the morning. Bliss!  Except.....

I'm not someone who thinks that an hour long massage is Heaven on Earth.  Beyond the awkward touching between strangers, it's actually the environment I have an issue with. I mean, think about it!  Dark room....stranger....candles....new age music....people pay for stuff like this?!  Other people (like me) file police reports for stuff like this!  In any case, during a typical hour long massage it usually takes me about 30 minutes to stop the conversation in my head that I use as a distraction from my #1 enemy....silence.  If you know me, you know that silence isn't my strong point.  I can find a way and a story to fill even 2 minutes of dead air with anyone from my kids to a stranger in a lobby.  Yeah....I'm "that" person in front of you in the grocery store line asking the checker if they've ever tried Chocolate Cheerios while it's obvious that all they care about is that their state mandated 15 minute break is running late and desperately needed after an influx of novice "extreme couponers."  But worse than the silence, and worse than the fact that this massage was at sea level (can I survive 3 days in a spa robe until help arrives provided I even find high ground??) was the fact that I had my very first male massage therapist.  Ummm.....aren't there just some professions that are best left to one gender or the other?  A male therapist massaging a female in a closed room = awkward.  A male therapist massaging a male in a closed room = really awkward. No offense to my masseuse Greg (or whatever his name was) but unless you are 25, a Cross-Fit® trainer on the side, and my husband totally approves*, I NEVER want to tell you what I think feels good! NEVER.

Other than that, our main adventure in the last month was a family trip to the Great Wolf Lodge.  I eagerly booked two nights as soon as I saw the following magic words on their website : "84 degrees every day!"  SOLD.

Our trip can best be summed up by a list of souvenirs -

•  MagiQuest Wand
•  Set of Wolf Ears
•  Case of Pink Eye  (No extra charge for that!)

On a totally unrelated note, does anyone know where I can buy a black onsie?  For Luelle....not me (although that would have been a smashing addition to my bodysuit collection in Junior High!)  I am not a fashonista but I live by one apparel rule: never buy black cotton!  Black cotton items are like land-mines in your wardrobe that explode at the exact moment you need a sharp dark tone only to find it's now a faded heather grey after one careful wash and line dry! Of course, there is no shortage of black cotton at retailers across the city until you actually need it! And I need a black onsie so I can take some pictures of LuLu that should have been done forever ago!  I've been procrastinating on this task for entirely too long and after helping a friend with pictures of her little girl this weekend, I realized that I am way behind the eight-ball on properly documenting my daughter's life.  It was motivation I desperately needed!!  And I hope she doesn't mind me sharing.....but how freaking cute is this little princess Ellie???!

* Side note:  For those of you wondering.....Luke didn't approve even when it was a man more likely to go shopping with me than to hit on me in a bar.

Ding Ding Ding....It All Makes Sense!

Just so you know, you all let me down.....hard!  I thought that writing about my earthquake fear would be therapeutic and that I would get email after email from friends telling me that I am embarrassing myself in a public forum with complete and utter nonsense!  Instead I got emails, phone calls, texts, and posts offering me Xanax from secret stashes and countless people admitting that they too had cleared out some garage shelves for drinking water and flashlights.  But you all couldn't leave it there...could you?  No, No, No....you just couldn't! You had to take it one step farther with little quips like this:

"I'm not scared of earthquakes, but.....
  (a) I'm afraid of biological terrorist attacks on our drinking water"
  (b) I'm afraid of nuclear waste leaking into the Pacific Ocean"
  (c) I'm afraid of domestic shootings and bank robberies"
  (d) I'm afraid of Grey's Anatomy doing another Musical Episode"

Okay, I made that last one up.  It is actually a true fear though!  (Side note: Really?  Eight melancholy songs with an upbeat "make-out" melody tossed in the middle? That made it past focus groups and ABC executives???)  Regardless, I did learn a few things from this whole mini-anxiety attack.  You might want to write these down:

1. At the beach? Feel an earthquake?  High ground people.....get to high ground!! Why isn't this paired with "Stop, Drop, and Roll" as a child for us coastal state residents?  I could have died playing Fascination in Seaside trying to win a key chain up until this point in my life when Channel 8 decided to cram fear down our throats for 2 straight week post Japanese tragedy!

2. You all now need to think twice before leaving your purses and/or bags unguarded in my presence.  I wasn't aware that most of you are in possession of such fine mood enhancers!  I've always bragged that I surround myself with happy, positive, and uplifting individuals!  Ding, Ding, Ding...it all makes sense now!

3. Do NOT under ANY circumstance watch the show "It Could Happen Tomorrow" unless you have a drug toting friend who really is dumb enough to leave their purse unguarded in your presence. Don't think you won't sink that low after this mega-depressor!  After watching this show for 2 hours straight I developed my own conspiracy theory that the head producer is actually a commissioned anxiety drug salesman. Job well done, sir! You've been promoted....

In any case, I didn't mean for this blog to be about earthquakes, but I thought I should at least give a mini-update as to my sanity level. (Insert your obligatory joke about how I was never sane in the first place...good one!)  I actually meant for this blog to be about another issue I have encountered in my daily life: jean hoarding!

I discovered this horrific personal trait while cleaning out my closet yesterday. Important to note - I didn't say "jean addict," I said "jean hoarding."  You see, a jean addict is someone who spends a little too much time doing retail therapy at The Buckle.  A jean hoarder is someone who never throws away any jeans on the very slight off chance that some day (a) I might be that thin again (b) I might be that heavy again (c) high-waisted denim might come back into style (almost there!!) or (d) I will use a pair as "painting pants".  I am so embarrassed that I found about 15 pairs of random old jeans tucked in the back of my closet!  Seriously, if I ever lost all the photos of my twenties I could have pulled those things out for an equally reminiscent jaunt down memory lane.  After trying every pair on (some too tight - boo!, some too loose - yey, but all equally heinous and time warped) I finally found the courage to put most of them in a Goodwill bag.  Even that felt wrong though! Part of me wondered if it should be federally mandated that I burn them in the same way that they require that expired car seats be destroyed!? I cringe at the thought of another 5 footer picking a pair of these up for $5.99 while all I get is a tiny tax write off and a lost opportunity to compare my current body to my college body.  Shut up...you know you do it too! :) Right?!?!  C'mon.....right?!  Just me?!   

***Not my actual jeans, but it felt more official with a picture***

Florida, North Dakota, Bend.

Is anyone reading this legally allowed to write me a prescription for Xanax?  I knew I should have been way nicer to those kids studying chemistry in college!!  I really did a horrible job anticipating my future networking needs and instead spent countless nights in the business computer lab working hard to earn a "marketing" degree.  I mean, what can all my OSU business classmates help me out with now?  If I'm lucky maybe one of them got some cushy job as the head of brand development for Red Bull and I might score a free caffeinated drink provided I find them on Facebook and relish in the good ole times where I did their share of group work because I am type A and their writing skills weren't up to par.  (side note: Clearly my writing skills are A+ as evidenced by the fact that I never do run on sentences.....ever!)  Regardless, I don't need caffeine....I need Xanax! Yesterday! Last Week!

Oh...I hate the news!  I try not to live in fear, but someone at KGW is doing a great job because I am trying hard to decide whether buying 20 gallons of water or physically moving my family to Bend is a more effective solution to squashing my reawakened lifelong fear of mega-earthquakes.  Am I the only one going through this?  Is anyone else sweating bullets that we live in a place where this can truly happen?  In all honesty, I've come a long way since last week.  Moving to Bend is a mental compromise where I can still be close to my family but earthquakes won't feel as big.  Last week I actually wanted to move to Florida or North Dakota which are the two states least likely to have any type of earthquakes.  Do you want to know how I know this?  Because I am crazy earthquake/tsunami research lady now! It's out of control!  For instance, we're supposed to take the kids on a nice little beach vacation after tax season this year.  Do you know how I am choosing my destination?  I'm selecting it based on which city has an abundance of quickly accessible "high ground" in case a mega-quake creates a tsunami that leaves me only 15 minutes to find a local mountain top!  I'm considering writing off the Oregon Coast all together the rest of my life.  It's overrated.  Not even warm.  This, of course, was all going on in my head before I presented my plan to my husband who looked at me like I was crazy before saying, "You realize that there is like a billion percent more chance that we get into a car accident on the way to the beach?"  Good point.  Driving is overrated too. You know, I've been looking for some motivation to start the "Couch to 5K" program! Escaping an Oregon Coast tsunami may give me a renewed interest in increasing my stamina for long distance running.  Always a silver lining, right?  In 6 months I'll thank this fear for my stunning new figure!

So anyway, I'm not trying to scare anyone or bring you down to my level.  Please understand this fear is coming from someone who volunteers to hold coats while everyone else is going on Splash Mountain because that last vertical drop into the water makes me stomach quiver and cute little animated cartoons singing Disney songs hardly puts my soul at ease.  (Side note: If you ever go to Disneyland you might consider taking me as paid staff. I'll watch your strollers too!).  And I've actually been in Earthquakes before (practically sitting on the epicenter of that 5.6 in 1993....you Canby folks remember that?!) and it wasn't as horrible as I imagined. I just threw my covers over my head because if anything was going to protect me it was going to be a floral duvet cover!  And besides that, the only thing my recent research proved is that Geologists say a 9.0 could hit Oregon/Washington today or it could be another 700 years.  Yeah, they got paid Lord knows much to reach that conclusion once again proving that I picked the wrong major in college...

Talk me down people!  I can tell I'm overreacting because I made my husband bolt the playroom shelves to the wall!  Of course Luke told me he wasn't doing it because of my earthquake fears, but because more likely than that some kid was going to climb it and we would be forced to test the limits of our homeowner's insurance policy regarding accidental injury.  Really I think he just knows that bolting those things is easier than listening to me do my "move away from the shelf drills" with the kids on an ongoing basis which yes, I did do!

Speaking of homeowner's insurance, if anyone is looking for a new agent (Life/Home/Auto) my brother in law is featured in this month's Portland Monthly as one of Portland's best Insurance Agents!  Way to go Nate!! Congratulations! Here's to hoping I never have to call you to utilize one of my policies :)

Check Out Nate's Website Here!

Item of the Week

Well today was supposed to change my life, and it didn't.  So much for winning the St. Patrick's Day Million Dollar Raffle!  Oh well, living mortgage free is overrated, right?  It's a good thing I never started packing my bags for that Hawaiin vacation (I had already mentally purchased tickets) that I was going to use to celebrate our good fortune.  If you're not sad for me, you should be!  I'll have you know that I was going to rent a few houses for my closest friends and hold a huge celebratory party Island Style!  Of course my hypothetical party plan kind of ignored the fact that $1,000,000 after taxes might not totally cover the tab of what I deem to be "Island Style."  I guess I'll just hold onto our losing ticket so I can claim it as a deduction when I finally do win a jackpot.  Did you know you could do that?  As if when you win millions of dollars your first concern is going to be digging out and organizing all of your losing lottery tickets so that you can claim a $100 deduction against your winnings. Regardless, I'll hold onto it just in case.  It makes me feel like an optimist!

Maybe it's better that I didn't win because I would probably be one of those people who lost touch with reality and went all crazy.  My idea of crazy though would be spending $1.99 on a pack of foil star stickers for Emery's potty chart instead of making a special trip to the Dollar Store to save the 99¢ difference.  Speaking of the Dollar Store, I went there the other day for this exact reason!  I have a love/hate relationship with the Dollar Store.  For example, I love that I can buy a gift bag there for $1 instead of the $4.99 that Hallmark charges. I hate that it costs me an extra $4 to buy that bag when I get distracted by giant boxes of Mike & Ike's and Nerds. Another thing I hate is that there are times when I find myself mid-aisle staring off into space contemplating things like:

1. Whose idea was it to have "Item of the Week" and not make that item less than $1?  Imagine how much they pay to have those dang posters printed when it's not like some "extreme-couponer" (sidenote: has anyone seen that show??) is going to show up and clear the shelf out for their hoarding pleasure "stockpile".  Not when you can get the very same thing next week for........$1.

2. There may be some good deals there but there are some serious traps too! For instance, I saw another huge poster highlighting the fact that they have H&R Block tax filing software.  Imagine the convenience and savings!  Except.....it's Federal filing only and just in case you don't keep up on tax software, it's FREE online. All you get for $1 (in this case) is a CD that you can use as a pint glass coaster if you still decorate like it's your junior year in college.

3.  Who trains these cashiers? (Part I).  Instead of meandering through the whole store I thought to ask someone if they knew if they carry star stickers. I won't deny that the employee was incredibly eager to help me find them.  The only problem is that she finally caught up with me 10 minutes later to apologize that they don't stock them as I stood in the middle of their school supply aisle putting two boxes of said stickers in my basket.  "Whoa," she said!  "You better buy those now in case we don't have them later!"  Yeah, because I'm pretty sure the Dollar Store has a monopoly on foil star stickers?  "A" for effort on this sales pitch, but I'm not thinking a commissioned sales position is in her future.

4. Who trains these cashiers? (Part 2).  Why does it take so long to do the math for change?  Lady....I'm a patient person, really I am!  But we're working with WHOLE DOLLARS here!  I gave you a ten. I bought 3 things.  Why do you have a calculator?  Why are you using it?  I wonder if she applied in Washington but the sales tax tripped her up so she got demoted to Oregon? This state is probably the pit of Dollar Store employees for that very reason....

You know, there are some days when I feel really productive and like I have something to say that some of you might be interested in.  And there are days like today when I re-read what I wrote and slowly realize that I shouldn't admit I've given any topic that much thought.  At least those employees are working and contributing to society!  I, on the other hand, was just killing time writing this while I wait for my Net-Flix to get here.  Better go check the mail!

PS...I don't have anything against "extreme couponers" for a family looking to save some money.  But if you're hoarding 300 toothbrushes and 30 years of toilet paper just so you can brag that you saved $300 while having to buy a bigger house to store it all in....you have math skills that rival those of my last Dollar Store cashier :)

Are Quarters Magnetic?

So yesterday I took the kids to the mall.  Isn't it funny how that alone is worthy of a blog entry when there was a time (not long ago) when writing about going to a mall would be the equivalent of writing about the fact that I decided to have lunch on any given day? Regardless, that's where the story starts....at Washington Square Mall.

Now there are a few reasons I don't go to the mall anymore:

1. We don't fit. Have you ever compared the size of a double wide stroller to the size of an average shopping aisle? No wonder my husband was so quick to say yes to my request for a Double Bob!  It's the last thing I've ever bought because owning it makes it impossible to shop anywhere including places like Gymboree or Gap Kids where their marketing geniuses have yet to figure out that if they made the stores stroller friendly, they might sell more to (wait for it......) their target consumer!  Novel idea huh?

2. I don't have enough quarters.  I don't think I've ever lied about the fact that sometimes I'm more about sanity than teaching moral lessons in front of an audience of strangers.  For example, if I have to choose between teaching Emery that he can't have everything he wants like the "pay rides" (conveniently located next to the free play area) through his sobbing tears while holding a baby that just threw her bottle at a passer by....guess what?  I'll dig for 50¢, revel in the 20 minutes of peace it bought me, and save that lesson for a time when he wants something really dumb like that stupid remote control Bigfoot.  Hmmmm.... now that I'm thinking about it, Gap Kids should just hire the people who thought to put the pay rides by the free play area!  Those people knew what they were doing!  The only way to get quarters out of my pocket faster would be to install industrial strength magnets at the door.  (Wait....are quarters magnetic?  If not....for the sake of the story, pretend they are.)

3. Subway.  Who doesn't love $5 footlongs??  I'll tell you who! The Subway franchise owners at the mall!  You know when you see the $5 Footlong commercial and it says really small on the bottom of the screen, "only valid at participating locations."  Well guess which Subways don't participate?  Yup....the mall ones.  I don't know if it's my place to tell them, but being located next to a "hurricane simulator" should be reason enough to shed the superiority complex that is somehow developed by sharing your dining room with a Panda Express.  I'll just tell you that I could taste $2 of resentment on my $7 turkey sub. 

4. Shopping is a big tease.  Forget the fact that 99¢ of every $1 to my name goes to diapers and inflated preschool registration fees and (just for a second) pretend that funds are unlimited.  Would that mean I could shop to my heart's content?  NOT A CHANCE.  I did go into the new H&M just to check out it. However it took me a box of raisins, a bag of grapes, and some freeze dried apples just to get through the first 3 rounders of the clothing equivalent to Ikea furniture.  If you really think about it, that's roughly a $5 "snack tax" just to try and save $3 on a shirt.  Economics people....economics.  This is false savings!!  I did buy a few things, but in my haste didn't realize that I had multiple H&M store hangers hiding in the crevices of my stroller canopy until I made it all the way to the parking lot.  They'll make a lovely addition to my hall closet until I can rightfully return them when a) I go to the mall again and b) I remember to take them with me.  In all honesty, those two conditions are a perfect storm of "never going to happen."

So in a nutshell, if it hadn't been for the grand prize of getting to spend 3 hours with my sister, it would be a trip that I wouldn't have taken.  I did notice, however, that Nordstrom now has a complimentary 2 hour babysitting service for ages 3-8.  They also have a gigantic sign on the door that says something to the effect of "We won't take your kid to the bathroom so if you think you're dropping them of here fully loaded and it's our problem....think again!"   Still, that's a semi-step forward for any store! Now I can enjoy my God-given right to (window) shop for purses that I can't afford in peace!

Other than that, my weekend was great! Besides the fact that it was my own mother's birthday (Happy Birthday Mom!!) It was also my Mother-in-Laws birthday (as noted in a previous blog entry) and there was another surprise event for her. I hope Luke was taking notes because his father planned an all day wine escape complete with an amazing family dinner in wine country.  I say it was amazing because this woman raised 5 kids and every one of them could still read the menu after 8 hours of tastings. Although I realize the purpose of the day was to celebrate her birthday, this was the first entire day I have spent kid-free with my husband in a long long loooooong time!  Here is a picture of us.....together....without kids.  (Thank you "Amber" for holding down the fort at home!)

 

Cheers to the birthday girl!  We love you mama-Stacy!

Small note: 

I'm not ignoring my own mothers birthday.  She's a little under the weather so we have postponed her birthday celebration.  Feel better mom!