We need a meal plan. Definitely.
We tend to just go to the grocery store and buy whatever we want off the shelves. No bueno. We spend too much money on food that we don't even need.
So I've decided we need to meal plan. At least have two weeks worth of meal plans to go grocery shopping for. That way, we know what we're going to eat, when we're going to eat it and we know what to go shopping for.
Husband is behind it. He thinks that it'll be a good thing, especially because we've been like this for so long. No budget or anything, we just get what we want when we want it. And sad thing is, we really can't afford this. With meal planning (and couponing, another thing I wish to venture into this year), we can do our best to cut costs at the grocery store, instead of just going in there and spending willy-nilly.
I'd like to also sit down with my husband and set up a monthly budget, keep track of spending, stuff like that. Not only do I want to do this, but I feel like we need to do this. My parents never showed me how to manage my finances and for the longest time I had no idea how to. But my parents had two houses go into foreclosure, cars repo'ed, etc. I don't want to be like that. I don't want to set that example for Little Miss and any other future children that Husband and I have.
I want to grow up and be responsible. And seeing as I am the most disorganized person on the planet, I figure organizing things like meals and budgets and stuff like that would be the best place to start.
I'm looking online for meal planning templates, but I think I'll make my own. And I plan on getting a picture frame from the dollar store and turning them into a dry-erase board, so I don't have to print off several hundred of these things.
I guess I'm wishing myself good luck here. Hopefully I don't stray from the beaten path on this.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Complaints From Dog
This is Polly (or Miss Polly, Polly Pocket, Pollywollydoodle, Pollywogs, Pocket, or Mutt)
She likes sneaking into the recliner, barking at the Christmas tree (that we really need to take down), jumping onto the sofa (and everything else) and trying to get the kitties to play with her.
If we take her to the dog park, she'll find the biggest dog there and hump him until he falls over. If we go to Petsmart, she knows where to go to get treats and actually has a fan club there. I get yelled at if I go to Petsmart without her. At my In-Laws, she tries to dominate the house (and their chocolate lab) by peeing on their carpet (which goes over so well, let me tell you). Oh yeah, and if we go out anywhere, she prances on her tiptoes like a show pony, instead of running all over the place like a bat out of hell.
She's eaten countless amounts of toys (stuffed ones with squeakers, nylabones, etc.) and now only has one toy left which has survived several months of abuse, thankfully. She's eaten two leashes (we have a chain one now), two harnesses, several dog beds, shoes, tissues and tried to eat my gearshift.
Needless to say, a lot of my time going "Ah! No!", "Drop it!", "Leave it!" or even worse "Honey, do you know where the dog is?!" Because she's really sneaky and when she's quiet bad things happen. (This rule also applies to four year olds).
But Pollywog leads a good life. She's cuddled, hugged, kissed, fed, watered and even allowed to sleep in my wonderful bed on occasion.
Of course though, she obviously thinks that there could be some more improvements. That much is evident from the way she just lays around the house and whines pitifully for no reason. So, tonight's installment is Complaints From the Dog!
But wait! You say. Last night you wrote about your two cats and there were only two complaints. What makes the dog more interesting?
Because my cats are snobby and prefer to spend the majority of their time outside trying to kill Cardinals, so I don't know much about their complaints. But I did forget one, so there's now officially 3. I'll edit that later.
Anyway, to answer your question: Polly is a dog. That automatically makes her more interesting.
I'm a dog person, can't you tell?
She likes sneaking into the recliner, barking at the Christmas tree (that we really need to take down), jumping onto the sofa (and everything else) and trying to get the kitties to play with her.
If we take her to the dog park, she'll find the biggest dog there and hump him until he falls over. If we go to Petsmart, she knows where to go to get treats and actually has a fan club there. I get yelled at if I go to Petsmart without her. At my In-Laws, she tries to dominate the house (and their chocolate lab) by peeing on their carpet (which goes over so well, let me tell you). Oh yeah, and if we go out anywhere, she prances on her tiptoes like a show pony, instead of running all over the place like a bat out of hell.
She's eaten countless amounts of toys (stuffed ones with squeakers, nylabones, etc.) and now only has one toy left which has survived several months of abuse, thankfully. She's eaten two leashes (we have a chain one now), two harnesses, several dog beds, shoes, tissues and tried to eat my gearshift.
Needless to say, a lot of my time going "Ah! No!", "Drop it!", "Leave it!" or even worse "Honey, do you know where the dog is?!" Because she's really sneaky and when she's quiet bad things happen. (This rule also applies to four year olds).
But Pollywog leads a good life. She's cuddled, hugged, kissed, fed, watered and even allowed to sleep in my wonderful bed on occasion.
Of course though, she obviously thinks that there could be some more improvements. That much is evident from the way she just lays around the house and whines pitifully for no reason. So, tonight's installment is Complaints From the Dog!
But wait! You say. Last night you wrote about your two cats and there were only two complaints. What makes the dog more interesting?
Because my cats are snobby and prefer to spend the majority of their time outside trying to kill Cardinals, so I don't know much about their complaints. But I did forget one, so there's now officially 3. I'll edit that later.
Anyway, to answer your question: Polly is a dog. That automatically makes her more interesting.
I'm a dog person, can't you tell?
Complaints From Dog
1. They won't let me on the sofa. They keep telling me "Off!" I need to work on training my humans better.
2. They don't see the trash can as a never-ending buffet, like I do.
3. I hate my stupid crate.
4. I want to play with the kitties, but they don't want to play with me and now I have to get more band-aids.
5. They take me outside in the rain and the snow to go to the bathroom. They go to the bathroom inside and I don't complain, but I go inside and they get all upset at me.
6. Blankets, shoes, leashes, harnesses and gearshifts are yummy. They won't let me eat them.
7. I like cat food better. And table scraps.
8. The tiny human doesn't drop nearly as much food as I want.
9. If they didn't want me to chew on the toys at the Petsmart, they wouldn't have them at optimum chewing level.
10. The couch is SO much more comfortable than the floor. Why do they keep telling me to get off?!
11. I shook the stuffing out of that shark to make sure it was dead. Why is the tiny human crying?
And the list goes on and on and on.
Sigh.
Silly animals.
6. Blankets, shoes, leashes, harnesses and gearshifts are yummy. They won't let me eat them.
7. I like cat food better. And table scraps.
8. The tiny human doesn't drop nearly as much food as I want.
9. If they didn't want me to chew on the toys at the Petsmart, they wouldn't have them at optimum chewing level.
10. The couch is SO much more comfortable than the floor. Why do they keep telling me to get off?!
11. I shook the stuffing out of that shark to make sure it was dead. Why is the tiny human crying?
And the list goes on and on and on.
Sigh.
Silly animals.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Complaints From the Cats
See this cat?
This is Lucky Bear. He is a lover of sinks, the spaces between legs and tuna fish.
He's such a happy looking cat isn't he? I mean, all happy and smiling in the sink. The complete opposite of Grumpy Cat (whom I still love because, let's face it, she's adorable).
IT'S ALL A LIE.
This cat is obsessive and jealous - he hates it when Husband gets too close to me, walks me to the mailbox and back and absolutely DESPISES everything that takes me attention away from him.
Tonight Husband and I were talking about our kitties.
This is Lucky Bear. He is a lover of sinks, the spaces between legs and tuna fish.
He's such a happy looking cat isn't he? I mean, all happy and smiling in the sink. The complete opposite of Grumpy Cat (whom I still love because, let's face it, she's adorable).
IT'S ALL A LIE.
This cat is obsessive and jealous - he hates it when Husband gets too close to me, walks me to the mailbox and back and absolutely DESPISES everything that takes me attention away from him.
Tonight Husband and I were talking about our kitties.
Oh yeah. We have two cats. This is Brother Bear. He's a little bit...er...well, he's special.
We were talking about how even though our cats never shut up or catch mice or lay around the living room and kitchen acting like they haven't eaten in days and are starving, that they live pretty well. Very well, seeing as they both weigh upward of 15 pounds a cat.
But, we know, they have complaints. Everyone does, after all, no matter how well their lives are. Especially cats, because everyone knows that nothing is ever good enough for cats. However we don't think that they have much to complain about. So, for everyone's reading pleasure, here are
Complaints from the Cats!
- They have a tiny human. They give us less attention because of it. And they let the tiny human dress us up in humiliating outfits and brush our fur the wrong way.
- They have a dog who thinks we want to play. Guess what?! We don't.
See? Only two complaints. Unless I move Brother's box. Then he looks lost and stares at the spot where it once was meowing pitifully.
Next up: Complaints From Dog.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Just a Purple Kind of Day
Snow Watch has officially begun at my house. I'm pretty sure it started as soon as Little Miss woke up this morning.
So far, no sign of snow. Just a lot of rain and it's cold as hell, but we've been getting phone calls from various family members about how they're getting snow. Little Miss is starting to get very upset that we are apparently the only people in the state of Virginia without snow. Or so she says. I told her that we will probably get snow, just not right now. She asked why not? I told her that it's not cold enough. She told me to go tell God to make it cold enough for snow.
She's a sassy little thing. I think she wants to go out and play in her snowsuit that Grandmama got her this year and she's never had the chance to use because we haven't had any.
Polly isn't liking being cooped up either. She hates the rain and the cold and yet she wants to run around. So, we've created a living room obstacle course that includes stairs and jumps and tunnels and all sorts of things for the dog (and Lela) to run around in to burn off some energy.
It's pretty fun actually. And it keeps Polly from doing her newest bad habit. Ugh. I need to get lids for all of the trash cans now.
But anyway. I talked to my mother-in-law about organizing my house. Because honestly, my house needs it. She gave me a lot of tips and stuff, some of it new information, some that I already knew. But it was good information nonetheless. I've been going on nonstop about organizing the house and repainting and fixing up the house a little bit, especially since we're wanting to rent and/or sell the house sometime in the future.
Husband thought it was funny, or so he told me the other night in the car after spending two hours in Lowe's picking out new cabinets, paints, carpets, tiles, backsplashes, countertops, and various other things. He mentioned that he thought it was funny, in a good way, about how the closer Little Miss gets to starting school, the more I focus in on getting organized at home. When I asked him if that was bad thing, he started laughing and then proceeded to tell me how proud he was that I was "growing up."
Puh-leaze. He's such a nutbar.
So far, no sign of snow. Just a lot of rain and it's cold as hell, but we've been getting phone calls from various family members about how they're getting snow. Little Miss is starting to get very upset that we are apparently the only people in the state of Virginia without snow. Or so she says. I told her that we will probably get snow, just not right now. She asked why not? I told her that it's not cold enough. She told me to go tell God to make it cold enough for snow.
She's a sassy little thing. I think she wants to go out and play in her snowsuit that Grandmama got her this year and she's never had the chance to use because we haven't had any.
Polly isn't liking being cooped up either. She hates the rain and the cold and yet she wants to run around. So, we've created a living room obstacle course that includes stairs and jumps and tunnels and all sorts of things for the dog (and Lela) to run around in to burn off some energy.
It's pretty fun actually. And it keeps Polly from doing her newest bad habit. Ugh. I need to get lids for all of the trash cans now.
But anyway. I talked to my mother-in-law about organizing my house. Because honestly, my house needs it. She gave me a lot of tips and stuff, some of it new information, some that I already knew. But it was good information nonetheless. I've been going on nonstop about organizing the house and repainting and fixing up the house a little bit, especially since we're wanting to rent and/or sell the house sometime in the future.
Husband thought it was funny, or so he told me the other night in the car after spending two hours in Lowe's picking out new cabinets, paints, carpets, tiles, backsplashes, countertops, and various other things. He mentioned that he thought it was funny, in a good way, about how the closer Little Miss gets to starting school, the more I focus in on getting organized at home. When I asked him if that was bad thing, he started laughing and then proceeded to tell me how proud he was that I was "growing up."
Puh-leaze. He's such a nutbar.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Does This Make Me Weird?
Got the information for our health insurance plan today. We've got a bunch of forms and of course the booklet with all the information about it.
Am I weird that I know that I'm going to end of reading that cover to cover so I know EVERYTHING about our policy?
I'm sure that means that I'm actually being a responsible adult, but I don't know. To some people, it might be weird.
Hm.
Oh, and on a side note, Polly learned a new trick today.
No, not sit (which she does when she feels like it), Off (doesn't work at all, she keeps jumping on my furniture when she's not invited), or Down (she's never done down), but one that is apparently SOO MUCH MORE FUN.
See, I was taking her for her walk. It's raining and muddy and my driveway is slick, seeing as it's well, mud. So, naturally, I slip and land on my butt in the mud, while wearing Husband's fleece pajama pants, but hey, he wasn't home and they're comfy. I still have a hand on Polly's leash, because I will not let that go when we're outside, simply because I don't want her to bolt and get hit by a truck and/or chase her a half mile down the street again.
Polly looks at me, then sees a puppy, who has frequented our yard recently, but we unfortunately haven't caught her, at the end of our driveway and bolts. With me still attached to the other end of the leash.
So Polly's new trick is this: If I fall in the mud and she bolts before I can get back up, she can drag me through the driveway. That is, until we hit the gravel. I managed to get traction there. And bloody up my knee.
Little Miss thought it was HILARIOUS. So did Husband, when he called from work to ask how my day was. The only thing he was concerned about was if I had put a hole in his pants.
Maybe it won't be so bad being alone after Little Miss goes to school after all.
Am I weird that I know that I'm going to end of reading that cover to cover so I know EVERYTHING about our policy?
I'm sure that means that I'm actually being a responsible adult, but I don't know. To some people, it might be weird.
Hm.
Oh, and on a side note, Polly learned a new trick today.
No, not sit (which she does when she feels like it), Off (doesn't work at all, she keeps jumping on my furniture when she's not invited), or Down (she's never done down), but one that is apparently SOO MUCH MORE FUN.
See, I was taking her for her walk. It's raining and muddy and my driveway is slick, seeing as it's well, mud. So, naturally, I slip and land on my butt in the mud, while wearing Husband's fleece pajama pants, but hey, he wasn't home and they're comfy. I still have a hand on Polly's leash, because I will not let that go when we're outside, simply because I don't want her to bolt and get hit by a truck and/or chase her a half mile down the street again.
Polly looks at me, then sees a puppy, who has frequented our yard recently, but we unfortunately haven't caught her, at the end of our driveway and bolts. With me still attached to the other end of the leash.
So Polly's new trick is this: If I fall in the mud and she bolts before I can get back up, she can drag me through the driveway. That is, until we hit the gravel. I managed to get traction there. And bloody up my knee.
Little Miss thought it was HILARIOUS. So did Husband, when he called from work to ask how my day was. The only thing he was concerned about was if I had put a hole in his pants.
Maybe it won't be so bad being alone after Little Miss goes to school after all.
School Day Blues
I have recently come realize something that is a) motivating me and b) making me sad (not that it takes much to make me sad nowadays).
Little Miss starts school this August. August 12, to be precise. And I'm realizing that the time we spend together (all day, every day) and do all sorts of fun things together is coming to an end. I mean, we'll spend time with each other, but not as much as we do now.
I'm proud in a way. I've managed to keep a human being alive and well for this long. I've taught her numbers, letters, colors. I've taught her to love herself, to be kind, to think for herself. And trust me, at four, she doesn't want anyone thinking for her. But I can't help but think that soon, my days will be quiet. I won't have to watch Spongebob or Garfield or Dora all day long if I don't want to. I can run errands without taking ten minutes at each stop trying to convince a very stubborn little girl to get out of the car. I can clean my house without having it be destroyed five minutes later. I can go to the gym and for walks and out to lunch with friends if I so choose.
But I know I'm going to miss having my little shadow tag along. How I won't have anyone to cuddle (well, besides the kitty boys and the dog) in the afternoons when the world is gray and wet. How I'm going to be watching the clock, counting down the hours until she steps off of that school bus and comes home.
I'm starting to think that the transition from home to school will be easier for her than it will be for me. She loves going out, meeting new people. She's shy at first, but then really turns into this little social butterfly that loves everything and everyone. She will have no trouble making friends, I'm pretty sure.
I know it's January and I still have several months to spend with her. But on this dreary, wet, cold, gloomy Wednesday, where she turned down cuddling and movies to go play in her room without me, the realization hit me hard.
My tough talk about how I can't wait for her to go to school is a ruse. I dread her going to school. I wish she'd stay little and want to be with me forever, yet I know that it's impossible.
Little Miss starts school this August. August 12, to be precise. And I'm realizing that the time we spend together (all day, every day) and do all sorts of fun things together is coming to an end. I mean, we'll spend time with each other, but not as much as we do now.
I'm proud in a way. I've managed to keep a human being alive and well for this long. I've taught her numbers, letters, colors. I've taught her to love herself, to be kind, to think for herself. And trust me, at four, she doesn't want anyone thinking for her. But I can't help but think that soon, my days will be quiet. I won't have to watch Spongebob or Garfield or Dora all day long if I don't want to. I can run errands without taking ten minutes at each stop trying to convince a very stubborn little girl to get out of the car. I can clean my house without having it be destroyed five minutes later. I can go to the gym and for walks and out to lunch with friends if I so choose.
But I know I'm going to miss having my little shadow tag along. How I won't have anyone to cuddle (well, besides the kitty boys and the dog) in the afternoons when the world is gray and wet. How I'm going to be watching the clock, counting down the hours until she steps off of that school bus and comes home.
I'm starting to think that the transition from home to school will be easier for her than it will be for me. She loves going out, meeting new people. She's shy at first, but then really turns into this little social butterfly that loves everything and everyone. She will have no trouble making friends, I'm pretty sure.
I know it's January and I still have several months to spend with her. But on this dreary, wet, cold, gloomy Wednesday, where she turned down cuddling and movies to go play in her room without me, the realization hit me hard.
My tough talk about how I can't wait for her to go to school is a ruse. I dread her going to school. I wish she'd stay little and want to be with me forever, yet I know that it's impossible.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Tonight's Public Service Announcement to my In-Laws
When you call someone up and try to have a conversation with them, the right thing to do is to NOT yell at the person you're talking to before they finish answering your question.
If you had shut your hole and LISTENED then MAYBE you wouldn't have had anything to get your panties all in a wad over.
I know it's a radical idea. Yet another scheme from the crazy liberal.
But really. It works.
Trust me. I know that's hard for you to do, because I obviously live with my head in the ground and am so naive that I don't know which way is up, but you can trust me. I promise I am not a complete idiot.
If you had shut your hole and LISTENED then MAYBE you wouldn't have had anything to get your panties all in a wad over.
I know it's a radical idea. Yet another scheme from the crazy liberal.
But really. It works.
Trust me. I know that's hard for you to do, because I obviously live with my head in the ground and am so naive that I don't know which way is up, but you can trust me. I promise I am not a complete idiot.
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