Not Inadequate

A guest poster! After I talked a little trash about Extreme Couponers, Nicole left a comment saying, “…I coupon and feel that I do pretty well – I average 60-70% savings…”

Sixty to Seventy percent savings? I emailed her to elaborate. She says her grocery budget is $60 a week. Sixty dollars! For a family of four! How that is even possible, I do not know. I shop the sales and buy in bulk, but (being completely, painfully, honest here) we spend more on groceries and Walmart-y stuff than we spend on our mortgage.

I know.

I’m horrified too. I just don’t know what to do about it. But I want to do better if I can. I am a little skeptical that a food nazi like myself can really lower my food bill with couponing. I have observed that the people on Extreme Couponing buy a lot of stuff that I wouldn’t consider food. I don’t need 600 liters of off-brand orange soda, or 350 frozen pizzas, or 17 boxes of candy bars. Don’t get me wrong - before kids, we slammed down our fair share of Totinos and big-ass sodas from the corner store. But I am at a different place in my life now, a place where I want to feed my family Real Food. Minimally processed, organic if possible, mostly made from scratch, real food. Cooking 3 scratch meals for 4 people every day is a big enough pain in my butt, I can’t devote 30 hours a week to clipping coupons on top of it. Furthermore, the stores around here don’t allow coupon stacking, which seems to be an integral part of the Extreme Couponers plan.

But! Nicole was not daunted and says even with all those requirements, I can make coupons work for us. I asked her if she’d like to do a guest post on the subject, and she agreed.

Soon we’ll all be RICH! Richer than our wildest dreams!

Maybe not. But Amazon’s not getting enough of my money and I feel bad about it. If I can shave my grocery budget, I can recify that.

So here is a little introduction from Nicole:

I started couponing just over 5 years ago, when I changed jobs from early childhood to teaching elementary education.  I had made more money in the private sector and I needed a way to increase my family’s income without adding a second job. I learned by trial and error, and over the years I’ve gotten pretty good. I have a family of four, my soul mate of almost 10 years and our two sons, Bug (5) and Dash (8). My budget for the week is $60, but I like to keep it around $35/$40 to leave me room for eating out (which comes out of the same budget).

Over the next few weeks I’ll talk to you about how to understand the couponing mindset, choosing the best store, the power of coupons and how to shop smart.  I’ll share what works and what doesn’t, and try to help each of you find what works best for you.  I won’t teach you how to spend hours poring over inserts or websites to do this (although if you have that kind of time, kudos to you).  I spend no more than 1½-2 hours total a week on my couponing (not counting shopping), never more than a half hour at a time, and always while I’m doing something else. 

If you have any questions along the way, be sure to post them in the comments and I’ll try to get them all answered.  This weekend is an awesome weekend for couponing.  Depending on your region, you could get up to 6 inserts in your Sunday newspaper.  This many inserts is normally reserved for the beginning of the year and I can’t tell you how excited I am about it (wow, that’s kinda sad, really).  So I’d like each of you to go out and get a paper or two (actually, if you really want to do the couponing up right, you need to get one paper for each person in your family always in even numbers – I’ll explain why in the first post but if one is all you can do, then by all means do one.)  With my family of 4, I normally buy 4 or 6 newspapers (this week will be a 6 paper week) to get the coupons I’ll need to support my family.

Hopefully by now you’re as excited about this as I am about this.  Feel free to ask questions in the comments and I’ll get them all answered.  Our first post will be up early next week and will be on getting into the coupon mindset, I’ll also talk about how to plan ahead and organize your coupons.

Thank you, Nicole! I, for one, am very excited about this. Even if I only save 30% off what I spend now, that will still be hundreds of dollars a month.

Now to remember to get a paper on Sunday….

• Well, we found the defendant….Guilty.

Finally.

We deliberated all afternoon on Thursday and all morning on Friday. We almost had it worked out on Thursday, but the judge would not let us stay past 5:00. I laid awake all night worrying people would change their minds and we’d be at square one Friday morning.

It was hard work. Harder than I thought it would be. But I’m glad I did it. Several of the other jurors wanted to tell the judge we were hung and go home, but I wouldn’t let them. Turns out, bossing my kids around all day has made it easier to boss total strangers. I wonder if I can turn bossing into some kind of paying position…?

• During jury duty, I had one burning question: When it gets hot, does the judge wear a Grateful Dead t-shirt and shorts under his robe?

I asked him about it when the trial was over.

I don’t know what came over me. He said he hadn’t so far, but had thought about it.

• The other day, we hit the Starbucks drive-thru and got frappucinos and cake pops. My husband professed not to like the cake pops.

I don’t understand this.

We have been married 17 years. Now it’s like I don’t know him at all.

Hopefully, our mutual interest in brownies can sustain us.

• Another thing I don’t understand is why ANYONE, never mind AMERICANS give a flying crap about the Royal Wedding. Why? Why? Why?

•Plus also, I don’t get how to Extreme Coupon. I just saw a lady on teevee buy a ton of laundry soap for $4. How do they do this? One time I tried coupons, and there was a sale on barbeque sauce, and I tried to get, like 6 bottles. I had 6 coupons and everything. But the store would only let me use one coupon. I looked online and my Safeway does not allow “coupon stacking.” Still, I would like to get a year’s supply of laundry soap for $4. I don’t know if I am trying to spend 40 hours a week on couponing though… I saw another woman buy something like 64 bottles of Maalox. If I needed 64 bottles of Maalox, I might consider a gastroenterologist.

Anyway.

•For this week’s Completely Random Randomness, a useful tip: if you have a door that is swinging closed, take out the bottom hinge pin and hit it with a hammer until it has a slight bend. Replace it in the hinge. Ta Da! The door will no longer swing closed so you walk into it trying to go potty in the middle of the night. If your door still moves, take out the middle pin and bend that one as well.

Well, I’m pretty sure I’m officially a juror. I CANNOT believe how long selecting this jury is taking! The room was FULL of potential jurors when we started – about 60 people. There are about 6 people left to choose from. And each lawyer still has 2 peremptory challenges left.

It was really interesting in the morning, but the more my ass started to hurt, the less interesting it became.

Plus, the judge kept giving us the same instructions. I was all, “DUDE, I GOT THIS. Do you even know how many episodes of Law & Order I’ve seen?”

They asked us each a bunch of questions – name, age, occupation, education, did we have friends or family in law enforcement, etc. They asked a bit about our hobbies and what we read or watched on television. No one copped to watching television AT ALL, and most of them sneered at the very idea. I caught on to the anti-teevee vibe by the time it was my turn and resisted the urge to engage the judge in a spirited debate about the Real Housewives of Orange County.

One potential juror got herself excused by claiming she would not do a good job because she had a hard time paying attention. She elaborated with, “You know how youse guys was asking us guys if we ever knew any of the witnesses? I totally wasn’t listening when you were talking, holmes.” He spoke to her in his chambers. When he came back, he said, “Well, I made one juror cry so far” and told us he had dismissed her on account of she was a self-admitted dingbat.

Okay, he didn’t SAY dingbat, but I feel sure it was implied.

I don’t know why the guy doesn’t take a plea or something so I can come home and rest my ass. The defense asked some annoying questions during vior dire, like ”how would you feel if the prosecution presents her case and I just sit there and don’t present a case?” and one juror goes, “I’d feel like the defendant should get a better lawyer.”

Oooh! And plus! PLUS I saw not one, but TWO men with rat tails in court today! I didn’t even know people were allowed to walk around like that anymore. I’m talking full-on, patch of hair braided down past the shoulder blades, rat tails. Rat tails they’d clearly been growing since 1985. Commited rat tails.

Anyway. Hopefully we get some action tomorrow. Fisticuffs would be nice.

For those of you who did not win the Classroom Friendly Pencil Sharpener Give Away I did a while back, I’m giving away 2 more over at Heart of the Matter today!

We will accept entries for a week, so hop over there and try to win!

I have to go to Jury Duty today. The jury duty part doesn’t bother me – it’s interesting and I can pat myself on the back for doing my Civic Duty and all that – but there is NO PARKING at the courthouse, and they won’t even let me bring a bottle of water. No water! That’s inhumane. I drink a lot of water and the idea of being separated from my giant cup is making twitchy.

It’s all those damn terrorists fault.

And I’m gonna have to get up all early, too. Dadgum it.

Should I take knitting? They said no sharp objects. I don’t want my stuff taken away by some Visigoth who doesn’t appreciate hand knitting. I suppose I’ll stick with a trashy novel. I don’t even have a decent phone to play Words With Friends! Poor, poor, poor me.

Plus, I’ll betcha the chairs are uncomfortable. All chairs are uncomfortable when your feet don’t reach the floor.

If my ass starts hurting, I can’t promise I won’t whine about it tomorrow.

Blame the terrorists.

(oh lookie! I’m on a watch list now!)

• Last week I had to mediate a fight over the babydolls in the playroom. We have two IDENTICAL babydolls in the playroom. One of them is called Jayme and one of them is called Yaher. (Or maybe it has the exotic spelling of Jaher? She’s never said. I don’t even know where she’s from.)

I have no idea where these names came from. NO IDEA. But in that unspoken way of children, those have been the names of the dolls since we brought them home 2 years ago. Somehow, the kids can tell them apart; and there is never any confusion when they are playing and jabbering away in their strange secret sibling shorthand. There is another one called ZeeZee, but she is shunned.

ANYway, Big had Yaher, but Little took him away. Much arguing ensued, and eventually I got tired of hollering at them to Work It Out, Already! and went in there. I told Little that Big had the baby first, and that she should play with the other doll, which once again, IS IDENTICAL.

She said, “But I don’t want to play with Jayme! He always pukes all over me!”

• Also last week, I was rassling with the kids and Big took a flying leap, landing on my back. Now that I am old, this hurt. We had to switch to playing Mama Needs Medical Attention, and Dr. Big solemnly diagnosed me with Bad Butt-itis. This was remedied by a trip to the Butt Hospital.

I don’t know why I am telling you this. I thought it was hilarious, but perhaps it’s one of those locational jokes. Or maybe I’ve been spending too much time with a 6 year old boy’s sense of humor.

• I got an email from Twitter this morning telling me that someone called Roman Sandals is following me. Apparently they are a “Fashion Blog Focusing On Gladiator And Roman Style Sandals & Shoes. Follow Us For The Latest In Gladiator And Roman Sandals!”

Here’s the thing. First of all, are there really people out there who MUST KEEP UP with Gladiator sandal news? Is there really even such a thing as Gladiator sandal news? Also, why would the Gladiator sandal people be interested in me? I mostly think Gladiator sandals are UNBEARABLY HIDEOUS.

What do I know, though? My daily outfit consists of capri cargo pants, a men’s white t-shirt (3 to a pack!), and either the everyday Birkenstocks or the good Birkenstocks. Every so often, the good Birks become the everyday Birks and I rotate in a new pair. It’s very Exciting and Fashion Forward.

• For the final gasp of Randomness, I have some trivia for you: It is generally inadvisable to caulk around a toilet.

I’m sure by now everyone has heard about that school in Chicago that bans parents from packing lunches for their kids. Because OBVIOUSLY the same people that operate the DMV are better parents than the rest of us. Duh.

Over in Boston, the mayor has banned anything sugary from vending machines on city property – except at Red Sox Stadium. They are exempt (or should we say More Equal?) and will be allowed to sell soda. And beer. It makes perfect sense to stop the sales of chocolate milk (the tool of the devil), but you can’t go around banning beer from baseball. That’s just crazy talk.  I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with tax revenue, though. It’s a moral issue. Stop being so cynical.

While we here in the United States are busy stripping the rights of parents to give their kids a freaking SANDWICH, the government of Bolivia is granting rights. To bugs. That’s right – they are drafting a treaty for the U.N. that would give “Mother Earth” the same rights as people. They just passed a law domestically giving bugs and trees the same rights as humans and feel the the entire world should follow suit. I don’t know why we haven’t done this before, really. It makes so much sense.  I mean haven’t we all felt angst stomping the errant spider that finds his way into the house? Now we will finally have some guidance on the subject.

Barely Relevant Side Story:
My local knit shop is run by a lovely woman, K, whose husband is the Head of Psychiatry at a State Mental Hospital. One of the other knitters is an Occupational Therapist who works there. One night, I was showing my ignorance by asking them what an Occupational Therapist is. After they explained to me OTs help people with injuries re-learn how to do things like brush their teeth or whatever, I apparently made a comment that contained the phrase “so it doesn’t have anything to do with the crazy people.”

Cut to a week later, and the phone rings with another knitter on the line. I thought she had called to set up a play date with her daughter.

But no.

She called to tell me that she was offended when I used the term “crazy” at knit night a WEEK BEFORE. A conversation that neither included her, nor was about her, offended her. And she took time out of her day to call and tell me, “hey, by the way - you suck.”

I was all, “why were you offended, are you nuts or something?” But not with my outside voice. That would be mean. I apologized profusely and felt bad that something I said offhandedly upset someone for a WHOLE WEEK.

The more I thought about it, the more concerned I became that I had offended the knit shop owner. I like her, and it’s her husband who is the shrink, and probably I should apologize. So I go to the shop and I start my spiel and she goes, “oh, I heard all about this already.” Because of course the offended lady had to spread the news of my suckiness far and wide. Who wouldn’t?

It turned out K. was not offended, but I did get a tiny speech about how just because people have a mental illness, it doesn’t mean they are crazy. Which I knew, and hello – COLLOQUIALISM anyone?

The offended lady was at the following knit night and I was all awkward and spazzy. (Oh wait – can I say spazzy? SOMEONE NEEDS TO SEND ME A LIST)

As I was recounting all this drama later to my husband, it occured to me that when I used the word “crazy”, I said it in reference to the people at the State Hospital. 

The State MENTAL Hospital.

Where they keep the Criminally Insane.

As in: People Who Are Too Crazy For Regular Prison.

INSANE being the operative word here. Contextually, the word “crazy” was not incorrect.

And then I was able to let it go (clearly), secure in the knowledge that I was, in fact, right.

So hopefully no one is upset that I used the words “crazy” and “nuts” to describe how I feel about the government telling me I don’t know how to make lunch….but if you are, I’m sorry (not really) and IT’S A COLLOQUIALISM FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

Should I ever get invited to participate in a Baby Name Focus Group, I’ve made a list of the names I would share with the group. I have actually suggested most of these already, to a rather ungrateful pregnant cousin.

Barnaby (so out, it’s in)

Thursday (hipper than Nicole Kidman’s Sunday)
Persimmon (fresher than Gwyneth Paltrow’s Apple)

Cougar (just. plain. awesome.)
Banjo

I sent her several emails with some completely brilliant name ideas – I think I suggested Aquanetta (obviously for a girl), and Juniper. I thought about Feather, but that was a little too much. For a particulary painful birth, how about Pineapple? She had an almost violent reaction to the name Herman, which seemed a little harsh.

When we were choosing baby names, Jim had an uncanny ability to take practically every name and twist it into a cruel schoolyard taunt. He made elaborate rhymes involving either body parts or bodily functions. Is that a guy thing? On the other hand, a lot of the girl names sounded to me like I might as well name the baby Stripper and be done with it.

My mother-in-law pestered us constantly during my pregnancies to tell her the names, and I took a lot of delight in making up names that were crazy, but juuuuuuust plausible enough that she had to keep a straight face. It was fun. I had her almost believing we were going with Boutros-Boutros for a while.

Oooh – how about Celery? Nice and crisp. I predict a Celebrity Baby Celery in the future.

Bok Choy!

• We had a gigantic garage sale over the weekend. It was scheduled for Friday and Saturday, and I laid awake all night on Thursday worrying no one would come and I’d have to make a zillion trips to the thrift store to get rid of everything.

I shouldn’t have worried. Cars were marching down the street by 7am, and we had gotten rid of most of it by noon, in spite of failing to get the signs up until after 10:00. I forgot to take Before pictures, which I regret very much. We met our goal, even though we gave a ton of it away to cute little kids and old ladies playing the “I’m gonna donate this to charity” card. I finally figured out that was a negotiating ploy when the third little old lady suckered me with the same line.

Every single thing, except about 4 books, was sold.

We all got sunburns, and we made over a thousand dollars. I am still amazed by that.

• On Saturday, I took advantage of a slice of unexpected free time to catch up on teevee. I have discovered the Best. Show. EVER. It’s called Pregnant in Heels and it’s about really rich, really stupid, pregnant women and the Pregnancy Concierge who caters to their every whim (where do I get a concierge? I could totally use one of those. or just a regular minion. either way.)

It is AWESOME.

My favorite woman was pregnant with her third child. Sure, she knew all about strollers and car seats. What she didn’t know was what to name her baby. You see, a persons name is the very first impression you get of them. She was very concerned about developing the baby’s personal brand.

The Personal Brand! Of a BABY. What does that even mean?

And more importantly, did we make a giant personal branding error when we called our son The Super Puker for the first 18 months of his life? 

They hired a Think Tank to help them name their baby. The concierge assembled a team of “experts” (isn’t everyone who has named a baby an “expert”? Well, except for that one lady who named her little girl Latrine. I wouldn’t ask her for advice). They had a poet, a baby blogger, and a linguistics expert.

At one point the baby concierge offered her opinion and the mom was all, “we only want to know what the experts think. Know your place, lady.”

And I was all, “OH NO SHE DIDN’T!”

One of the experts was the vice-something-or-other at a Naming Company. Naming Company? Is that even a thing? Do people just make up job titles and then other people come running at them with buckets of cash? I could name stuff. How about Narcissistic Neon? Disingenuous Daffodil? Conceited Kiwi? Pathetic Pink? Self-Centered Sage?

In any event, the Baby Name Think Tank did not like the name the parents liked, so they dismissed them and got a focus group (I want that job. I would love to sit in a room and tell other people what they should do. or mock their choices. I would be great at mocking). The focus group also hated the name that the parents liked the most.

Obviously, these people didn’t “get” the parents or understand their “needs,” so they had a dinner party with about 16 of their closest friends.

Those idiots didn’t like the name either.

what to do, what to do….

In the end, they named the baby the horrid name that they liked (Bowen), in spite of what all the other people had to say. And it only cost them what – twenty-five thousand dollars?

Morons. I’d have named their entitled little precious for half that.

I think I have finally stumbled across something that my tiny picky eaters will eat.

Breakfast Parfait -

The granola is so easy to make, and my hubby can assemble the parfait whilst I remain in bed, clinging to every last possible bit of sleep.

I adapted it somewhat from The Hillbilly Housewife’s recipe for Skillet Granola.

Ingredients

• 2 Tablespoons oil
• 4 cups rolled oats
• 4 Tablespoons butter
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/4 cup ground flax

Toast the oats in the oil in a large skillet.

Melt the other ingredients (except the flax) in a small saucepan.

Add the flax to the oats and continue to toast for a minute, or until you say, “Holy Crap, I think the flax is burning!” This happens very fast, so I say that every time I make it. It always turns out okay – the flax develops a really nutty flavor. It’s delicious in this.

Pour the toasted oats onto a sheet tray. Pour the butter/sugar/honey sauce over the oats.

Stir. Cool.

Freeze for later.

Make another batch.

Serve with Greek yogurt, fruit, and a drizzle of honey.

I bought a bunch of fresh strawberries and blueberries, then cut the strawberries up and macerated everything with a bit of honey. I froze the berries in several quart sized freezer bags so we could make breakfasts easily.

Then my children decide they didn’t like the stupid blueberries. 

Even though they do, in fact, love blueberries – just not these ones.

You know, the ones that cost twelve dollars.

Fun Fact: After I took the pretty picture at the top, I had to pick out all the blueberries before I served it to my kids.

Dadgum kids.

Give this a try – it’s easy, it’s delicious, and it’s real food.

• I think we should all get together and decide how to spell Qadaffi. It annoyed me in the ’80s and it annoys me now.

• Our microwave will beep about once every two minutes after it’s done cooking. Here’s the thing, you stupid microwave – I’ll come in there when I’m damn good and ready, so shut the hell up already.

• I watched part of the Country Music Awards last night against my will. I do not like country music, and the stuff I heard did nothing to change my mind. That Honeybee song by Blake Shelton was beyond insipid. 

“You be my glass of wine / I’ll be your shot of whiskey / You be my sunny day / I’ll be your shade tree / You be my honey suckle / I’ll be your honey bee”

Seriously? All he did was list a bunch of stuff and set it to music. I made several rude pairings and sang them to my husband. I thought I was hilarious, but he did not appreciate it. This happens a lot. However, I persevere.

• I went to Sam’s Club and resisted the urge to buy giant bags of Easter chocolate or giant bags of potato chips or a giant box of ice cream. Now home, I stare into my cupboards forlorn and filled with regret.

• Sometimes I say stuff on Twitter and then when I go back and read it, I wonder if maybe I offended someone. I hate that dithering, self-doubt thing. If you’ve ever wondered if I was trying to be offensive – I wasn’t. Not only because I am Clearly So Swell (duh! winning!), but because if I am trying to be snarky and rude, there truly won’t be any doubt. I suck at hiding my intentional snark. Accidental snark should be interpreted only as Social Ineptness. I was homeschooled, you know.

• I got 500 hits last Thursday. That’s about a thousand times more than I usually get (okay, maybe not a thousand times more. leave me alone, we’ve only gotten to adding 9s over here). The Sir Ken video I posted a while back got some traction in a few corners of the internets. I lurked around in some of the chat sites, and was relieved there weren’t any “Can you BELIEVE she posted this? What a stupid cow!” conversations. On the other hand, none of the 500 people left me a comment, either. HEY NEW PEOPLE! THROW A GIRL A COMMENT! Maybe if I yell like that, they’ll hear me.