Food for thought

Okay, I must admit Halloween was a tad more stressful than usual around here.

I had continued to come up empty on the skeleton costume until just this week, but a friend found an awesome jumpsuit with front and back glow-in-the-dark bones, shoe covers, gloves, and a mask that X probably won't wear. (I may just stuff it, drape gummy worms out of the eye sockets, and put it over a winter hat as hey, it's going to be 40 degrees.) Thanks Pam!

Technically, I didn't buy it until all other options were exhausted. Although I could have sewn it, I was exhausted.

I'm helping with L's 2nd grade Halloween party this afternoon. Props for awesome party planning by Karen (check out her store at www.motherearthgardens.com ) but she is deathly ill so I'm pinch hitting.

I was on for making cupcakes, frosted a la zombie, which is all the rage. I used cream cheese frosting, a tad of red, yellow, green food coloring, and a piping bag. Mind you, I dreamed about how I was going to do these last night - including a confectionary catastrophe that involved a last minute trip to Michael's for supplies. So when I woke to find I really did not have the right piping tip for the frosting, it was a tad eerie. I had one of the flower ones, too ridgy for brains. I was inspired to make one out of plastic, but then just took some pliers and bent back the points on the flower tip, so it gave undulating irregularities. Creepy enough for you?

Some of you more anatomically-aware types may notice the prefrontal cortex is a tad underdeveloped. Well, it's the seat of judgement and isn't fully mature til your mid-20's, so there.

These will be served along with string cheese with carrot fingernails, and swamp juice (food coloring + juice + gummi worms).

Happy Halloween, everybuggy!

Ghost of a chance...

For some reason, I am out of steam with this project. Not the actual practice of buying second-hand, just the writing about it. I really thought I could make the year, and initially had little "aha!" moments daily that I would get inspired to blog* about. Not so much now. It seems like the same cycle of perceived need, attempt to rein in baser buying instincts, moderate compliance and occasional acting out. So consumer patterns are like any other human behavior, somewhat variable but always operating within individual parameters we're not aware of until we bump up against them...

* not an actual verb

I still struggle with the social pressures of consuming - and these most often come from social obligations and cultural traditions (eek! Halloween and Christmas). Hence, the birthday party gifts that I need to be more creative and proactive in obtaining through second-hand shops. That, in and of itself, hasn't been a challenge; thrift stores are treasure hunts for me. What I am having a hard time doing is letting go of the critical voice that reminds me how much better and more thoughtful a _____________ would be for darling _________.


Last weekend was a very cool birthday party at the U of MN Raptor Center, for X-man's buddy Will. Thumbs up on the emphasis on experience and education, not to mention supporting this really neat community resource! I planned to respond in kind, with giving Will a "coupon" good for an outing: lunch and shopping at the Mall of America. Not just any shop, but the hallowed halls of the Lego store, where you can buy wheels and windows in bulk!!! And like any 5 year old boy with a younger sibling prone to put small, chokey-type things in his mouth, Legos are the preferred medium for hours of creative enjoyment. Maybe it's the age, but I am acutely aware of how easily kids are disappointed - and opening a gift certificate pales in comparison to an actual rip-open-the-paper gift. Between that and a bit of a time crunch, I lost faith. My default setting - a quick trip to the Salvation Army.

For a measly $10, I found a brand-new-in-(somewhat crumpled)-box amphibious remote control vehicle. The exact one that the boys were fixated on LAST fall, in the deluge of Christmas catalogs. What are the chances? Quite the find, so I snapped it up. But my dilemma
wasn't over, as this would have been a great Christmas present for X. And to be brutally honest, I really wanted to play with it. After bitch-slapping my inner toddler, I resolved to make sure it found a home at Will's, and to include batteries. (Oops.)

They had a last-minute cancellation and were kind enough to invite L, so the kids proudly wrapped the present themselves. For some reason it also required a gift bag, so of course the one they picked out had a cartoon figure defecating with the word "Poo!" in cheery letters. Pretty darned appropriate for a 5 year old boy... sigh. It wasn't until after the party that X said how much he wanted to keep the toy himself. He didn't dwell on it, though, just consoled himself with the (errant) knowledge Mom could find another one by Christmas.

They really do believe we have superpowers. Humbling, isn't it?

But now I have a more pressing feat of derring-do - finding a skeleton costume. I KNOW I COULD MAKE ONE. Strangely, I'd rather take a nap. In desperation, I put out my plea as my Facebook status today: "Karen Mae Barnes is seeking a skeleton costume, size 6ish. Will see your skeleton and raise you a Supergirl, Batman, Jasmine, knight, fairy or Nascar driver."

So far I've struck out at Unique, Salvation Army, Savers and Craigslist. And I believe the time crunch puts Ebay out of reach. And yes, I will feel lame grabbing whatever I can find at Target. I guess that puts me in need of a black sweatsuit and some glow-in-the-dark paint. And some sort of amphetamine.

Gone crazy, back later.

Type A Minus

After 18 years of living in Minnesota, you'd think I'd learn.

Each and every year I fail to get the garden put to bed BEFORE it's covered in snow. Granted, this is pretty damn early, and hopefully it will at least stop snowing, and maybe even start melting sometime this week. Meanwhile, my garden looks quite festive, bedecked in snow balls.

Since we did invest a lot in the garden this year, I was hoping to mulch everything well and have lots of bagged leaves for next spring, especially the natives which don't do as well with bark mulch. Slight problem: leaves are still on the trees, only now they too are covered in snow.

I had also planned to bring the lavander indoors, to brighten up a gloomy winter - once I was done drying the blossoms and buds for potpourri. And a pot of mint for the kitchen - do you know what the street value of that stuff is in, say, February? There were green tomatoes to spare, and for my dad's birthday it's his favorite pie. Also basil for pesto. And more peppers than I know what to do with, so why not dry them and make ristras?

Who the hell am I kidding?

These are the projects that go through my mind, in no particular order, when I should be sleeping. And not getting to them in time is both a curse and a blessing. I'll never be out of ideas, but without the motivation to actually start any projects, I won't run myself ragged.

Yay me!

I was going to put photos in albums today and then design the custom photo calendars for Christmas. I think I'll just sit quietly until the urge passes, while watching the snow come down.

Emotional Accounting

Heck, October already???

I realize this looks bad. Me falling off the wagon with my Dana Buchman shopping spree and then the posts just... stop. I had expected someone to step forward with an intervention or at least a pleading missive to mend my ways. Apparently I overestimated my readership. Ah, well.

Was I consumed by guilt? Did I throw in the towel on this project, three-quarters of the year complete? Too ashamed to continue?

Actually, we went to DC for a week. And the kids got to spend time with a myriad of indulgent aunts/uncles/grandparents while Bob and I had an unprecedented 4 days together, child-free.
So you can imagine how disorienting all that was... plus the kids were just plain gorked, way off their schedules, and unbelievably whiny. This week I have accomplished very little, and it is enough that the urge to scream obscenities, put lambs blood on the doorway and run screaming down the street has abated, somewhat.

Excuses, excuses.

I am pleased to report I haven't purchased anything - new or used- in the last couple of weeks. Oh, wait, except for uniform shirts and socks for the kids. I have perused a few estate sales, because I am constitutionally ill-suited to walk on by. It's the voyeur in me, enjoying trying to piece together lifestories from so much stuff that's left behind. Then I look around our home - what is truly mine? What is of me enough that I'd want it forever?

As it turns out, not much. Nothing tangible, anyways.

Attempts at atonement

But first, more confessions...

In addition to my clothes shopping spree yesterday, I indulged the children as well. When I picked them up at school, we had an impromptu playdate which morphed into a visit to the ice cream parlor. And if you're at the ice cream parlor (www.Izzysicecream.com) , you are only a few storefronts away from the best train store ever, Choo Choo Bob's (www.choochoobobs.com) . Lately, I've been keeping the kids outside the store, watching the awesome model railroad sets run. And if you go into the train store, chances are you'll spend lots of time at the 6 back tables set up with all things Thomas, Brio, etc. An hour later as the kids are playing, you've had a nice chance to catch up with another grownup, and you're getting ready to leave but feel like you should buy something. (For some reason I put it in the same category as the imagined obligation to buy something or other when you use the rest room at a gas station.)

I've talked to the guys that run the place, and they admit that 80% of their actual sales aren't to parents that bring their kids to play, it's to the grandparents of said children. So I rationalized a small toy for each of them. L picked out a miniature set of Lincoln logs that fits in a small can - perfect for tucking away in my purse and whipping out when we need a small activity (restaurants, mostly). And X is all about the Legos: a little ATV kit with a figure. We're talking about $11 total, but we know it's not about the money, right? I guess I felt a tad guilty after buying unwarranted stuff for myself, so why not compound the error?

I know, I know. It's not exactly logical thinking on my part. But honestly - the hour or so of kids engrossed in their new toys pales pretty quickly in the face of the less-than-thrilled spouse. Bob reminded me that if I'm indulging them too much, he doesn't get to do it at all. Sigh.

Insult to injury? The hours that X spends with the Lego catalog saying "I want this set and that set and that set." And today, both kids sulked because I wouldn't take them to ice cream or Choo Choo Bob's. Indulging them leaves them feeling more entitled, whereas sticking to the deprivation approach means they eventually stop whining. One slip, I've wiped out my gains. And intermittent reinforcement is stronger.

My penance today: an entire trunkload to Goodwill, loads of recycling, and a giant bag of stuff in the trash. The alleviation of guilt should occur any moment now...

Thud.

Did anyone notice an atmospheric disturbance today? Sort of a sonic boom?? Yeah, that was me. Falling off the wagon.

Just to show you how disorienting back-to-school is, I was facing an ENTIRE DAY from 8 to 2:30 - with nothing scheduled. Adding to my novel freedom - the house was clean. Minimal laundry remained. Way too many projects but not much motivation to even choose one, much less complete it. What to do?

My dear friend Nina was up for 'lunch & whatever' but just had to make a trip to Kohl's to see if there were any must-have's. She had a coupon. There were sales. I didn't need anything in particular, so I thought I'd just be the helpful friend / comic relief.

(This is where I was going to write an amusing anecdote about Nina's shopping history. She begged me not to.)

The first thing I put in the cart I didn't intend to buy, really, but it was such a nice shirt for Bob, and I didn't get him anything for our anniversary and obviously had some unresolved guilt issues. I thought I'd just wander around with it for a while, before I wisely reconsidered. Bob is one of those people who really doesn't get excited about "gifts & crap" - he's equally noncommittal if I spend a bunch of time/money on the perfect whatchamacallit or just find something interesting at a yard sale. But some of his shirts could stand to be retired... So the justifications went.

Nina loves a bargain more than I do. She cruised the clearance racks - 60 to 80% off, plus she had a coupon for an additional 30% off. My math skills are kinda rusty, but doesn't that mean they owe you??? Lots of great deals, happy colors, but I resisted. For the first couple of hours.

We all have our limits. Not only did I meet mine, I invited it in for a nice long chat of mostly justifications. My tipping point? Dana Buchman.

Now I haven't shopped higher end stores for a while - or strayed from under my rock - so she was new to me. And I simply wasn't aware that she was designing exclusively for me. Seriously - colors, cut, fabric - I squealed. Repeatedly. And once that first dress was off the clearance rack and in the cart, others followed. Just like going off a diet and figuring after the first feedbag of cookies (hands free!), what's another 2 or 3? One sweater. Three tops. A glorious dress. All unbelievably cheap.

I EVEN FOUND A PAIR OF JEANS. This was a miraculous happening indeed.

I was heady with the hypomanic high of misbehavior. We had a heap at the checkout. And, surprisingly enough, I had little remorse. I joked about at least I'd have something to blog about...

Sound too good to be true? Yup - coupon wasn't good til tomorrow. They've got my things on hold; giving me nearly a full day to reconsider. Or re-justify.

So... Gentle Reader, should I walk away? What is this project worth? The jury is still out on this one. Operators are standing by.

And, oh yeah, they open at 8.

Unhinged

Apparently all the heady freedom of back to school week has warped my perspective. After my brief appearance at work today I stopped by my favorite thrift store. I found a belt for X, one of those ubiquitous braided leather ones that has no actual holes so that will make things easier for him. Hadn't really considered the differences in belt technology before... I found a great pair of shoes for X - barely worn ankle boots. And for L I grabbed the Phillip Pullman trilogy for a whopping $5.40. I love reading novels to the kids. We'll be taking a break from Harry Potter.

It's kind of amusing to look back a year or two, and I remember being at a bookstore and dithering over whether-or-not to purchase those very books. I was so proud of myself for the restraint, at the time. Now I almost feel guilty for purchasing them second-hand, because they aren't exactly necessary. (But awesome! Still trying to decide if I should see The Golden Compass film...)

My honey-do list today included getting replacement hinges for the bathroom cabinets. At Ikea.

Ikea is new to our part of the world, but mythological proportions in the collective consciousness of 30-somethings from back East who thrive on cheap furnishings. When it opened here, it was mobbed for months. I'm not much of a crowd person, so I avoided it for quite some time. Today, it was almost pleasant, meandering and looking at all the cool designs and vivid colors.

Other than the hinges, I was charged with getting a garlic press for my friend Nina. But I didn't make it out of housewares unscathed... I have been missing my kitchen shears for some time, and the empty hole in the knife block mocks me as I still reach for them almost daily. At $1.99, I doubt these will do much more than fill the void. But I bought them anyways. So there.

I wandered through the children's section and picked out a couple of small stuffed mice (one white, one grey) , $1.49 each. For absolutely no good reason. The kids loved them and treated us to a puppet show this evening. X named his Ruffles and L has yet to decide. Stay tuned.

After wandering the huge expanse of Ikea in my dress-up heels, I had some wicked blisters. By the time I made it to Returns, I was no longer in a great, expansive shopping mood. The line was long and my blood sugar low. Not a good combination.

The earnest "co-worker" in the unfortunate yellow polo was very sweet - looked at the hinge, vanished briefly, and returned with two replacement ones free of charge. Huh. Didn't see that coming. But it's Ikea, which is the Swedish version of Walmart, and it's easy to overindulge.

I limited myself to one cinnamon roll for the drive home. Mission accomplished.