working hard for the money

Tarzan and I had previously been big spenders and had the credit card debit and bad credit ratings to prove it, so we now live by a budget and a strict rule of NO credit cards.  We learned the pluses of living on a budget the hard way, though I am sure our parents warned us before leaving for college.  Cheetah has the joy of be raised by 2 cheap parents who refuse to give into his every whim.  It is so easy to get wrapped up in giving him everything he asks for, while we may not be made of money, he is an only child and it does have its perks.   

When Christmas came around Tarzan and I were appalled when Cheetah's wish list began growing by leaps and bounds, we decided that this would be the perfect time to try and teach him some perspective.  He had asked for the PS3 game called Skylander's, I was down for it until I googled it and realized it was a scam!  No only is the game $60 but you have to buy/collect all these different figures to complete the game.  Once again, Tarzan came to the rescue...he informed Cheetah that this was a rather expensive item for a Christmas gift (especially for Santa) but we could come up with a way for him to EARN the money for the Skylander game.  Cheetah wasn't thrilled but once he understood that he would have the game eventually he agreed to try to be patient and work for the money to spend on his game.

We came up with this chore list, things that Cheetah could do that would help us out and help him foster some skills of his own.  He could earn up to 12 stickers a day (additional stickers could be given if behavior warranted it) and each sticker was worth a nickle.  I was shocked to see such a swift change in his behavior,  we have had to endure quite a bit of conversations revolving around Skylander's over the past weeks but it was worth it.  If all goes well at school this week Cheetah will be buying the MEGA pack...and he is just beyond ecstatic!

This weekend we spoke of nothing but Skylander's and all the 'guys' he wants to buy, he said he'd be on his best behavior and work really hard!  I'm a bit concerned that he may be the best kid in the world and  that we'll be broke before next Christmas. 

Marriage often leads to roommates.

Being married is great; there is nothing like having someone to laugh with, watch tv with, and talk out your troubles with (to list just a few reasons)...BUT...just like every thing else there is a down side.  With a marriage usually comes a roommate, and with a roommate comes a boat load of new difficulties.

On your best of days you can overlook them missing the hamper, not putting away their belongings, or leaving dirty dishes in the sink.  The fact that they read 4 books a week is endearing but leaving them all over the house becomes irritating.  You breath deeply and decide to pick up the slack for a day or two until you become a ticking time bomb. You're secretly daring them to mention just one slip up you've made; you have all your artillery on hand, just waiting to pounce.  If left unchecked feelings of resentment can begin to bubble to the surface.  You've worked so hard to keep the house in order, you've cooked meals, and washed clothes...you're proud of all that you were able to accomplish in your waking hours.  You are shocked that your roommate wouldn't see what a sacrifice you've made to keep things in 'tip top shape'. 

I know all of these feelings ALL to well, and it's not because my roommate is crappy but because of my expectations.  I not only expect my roomie to understand feelings I haven't actually said aloud but I think he values things like a swept floor, clean counters, or sparkling tubs.  For all I know he may be walking through the house fuming over my 6 dirty cups a day, me leaving clean clothes in the dryer, forgetting to replace the toliet paper on the holder, or my piles of dirty socks by my bed side.  So today as I stand on the edge of the high dive just raring to take a leap into the deep end of crazy I must remind myself that I too am a roommate, and not always the best one either.

W.O.M. Part 2 - Completed

At the beginning of this year I decided that I would spend my time going places to visit my friends and family, try to make the effort to show people how much they mean to me.  Cheetah and I were so excited when we learned that we could squeeze in a visit with his Godmother AND my pledge sisters from college, not to mention the gift of a 'kid-free week' my In-Laws would be giving us the follwing week.  We began packing our bags when I came up with a cute list for Cheetah to do his own packing, he had a blast and I must admit he did a great job matching his outfits up.

Our trip up north ended up being a race, with one terrible storm on our heels.  It is being quoted as one of the largest tornado outbreaks in our history, there were 267 tornados and the death toll has reached 45.  The weather was terrible but we were safe and sound...please send prayers for all that were affected.

We had a great time visiting with our family Taunt Brandi and Uncle Carlos, Taunt Sally, Taunt Emily, and cousin Andy; I was a bit sad that Cheetah missed seeing some of the family but he was more than ready to head over to his Nana's house.  Before he left he made sure to point out how nice he was and how often he shared his toys with cousin Andy...'see I could be a big brother'...oy vay!

We had a baby shower for Sally and she got some really great gifts, the advice and conversations were helpful and giggleful for sure.  Missy made a WONDERFUL diaper cake, it was super cute and full of important tools of the trade. 

Afterwards we headed to campus to participate in our springtime college reunion.  To top off such a great day together, we ended it with doing shots of salsa from my favorite mexican restaurant.

Then off to one awesome dance party with the kids and doing some 'grown-up' shots when the kids went to bed.

It was a great weekend, I always feel so much better after our visits, even though I get a bit sad on the drive home.  I am so lucky indeed to have such a wonderful extended family of carefully selected friends.  Now I am off to enjoy my 'kid-free week' full of chores and relaxation.  I'll keep you posted.  :)

Put your hands in the air...

The move has made everything so hectic, this is the first time that we’ve moved with the boy underfoot.  It was surprisingly easy, thanks to family and friends things pretty much went off without a hitch.  We had help entertaining Cheetah, heavy lifting, unpacking, and cleaning.  For now we are presently on an unending quest for things that are taped up in boxes and we are wearing a path in the cement from the garage to the house.

Due to the stress of the move Cheetah has developed a fun new habit that has to be stopped.  The school has had to institute a ‘hand check’ rule, it seems Cheetah can’t seem to keep his hands off of the family jewels.  It’s all the time; standing in the store, riding in the car, watching tele, and eating any meal. 

It’s like he has the cure for cancer in there but just can’t seem to shake it loose.  We have tried the whole ‘do it in private’ talk, and the ‘put your hands in the air for a minute’ punishment.  Nothing seems to be working, I wonder if there is a book at the library that could point us all in the right direction.

The only saving grace during all the hooplah has been Mardi Gras.  We are able to take breaks from unpacking and penis talk to; yell our heads off for some cool loot, enjoy good food, get in some time with friends,  enjoy rides, and let’s not forget the cotton candy.

Cheetah’s school has closed for Lundi and Mardi Gras which means a 4 day weekend for me and plenty of time to catch up on laundry and harvesting empty boxes

A little of topic but very exciting…


Over a year ago I read an article the stated that a family could save over $400 a year by owning a bread machine so of course I had to add one to my ‘wish list’. This past weekend the Smith family received an AWESOME house warming gift from my fabulous Aunt.
 

We received a top of the line Cuisnieart Convection Bread machine, and as I sit here I am making my first loaf of bread.  I had no idea it would be the easy, who knew you could just throw all the ingredients in, press start, and boom…BREAD! 

Fuses are short and tempers are high...

When Tarzan and I agreed to move a little closer to what I call ‘home’ we decided we would just find something to rent and then as we became acclimated to the area we would look for a more permanent living arrangement.  Our 6 month lease turned into 2 ½ years in a 1,000 square foot apartment…as the walls are beginning to close in on us so is our lease.  For once we have no real ‘plan’, a friend of Tarzan’s heard of a house that was for sale by owner so we made some calls and did a quick walk through (in under 30 minutes) deciding that it seemed perfect for us.   We have put in our bid and now we wait for the ‘Loan gods’ to let us know the final answer…did I mention he have no REAL back up plan.  This is not like us, I used to be a by the seat of my pants kind of gal but since Tarzan and I got together he has roped me into his scrimp, save, and plan world and it has been very comfortable; these past 4 weeks however, have been hellish.  Our house is on edge, Cheetah keeps asking, “Where are we going?”  To which we keep answering, “To a new house somewhere”, deflecting his questions hoping to soon have a more definite answer.  We’ve told no one, afraid that it would jinx it (I knew I shouldn't say anything...damn) or maybe we would get too excited and then be disappointed.  

Maybe it’s our vagueness or the land of boxes we currently reside in but the boy has proclaimed, “I hate going to a new house.   I can’t find any of my stuff and we always have to clean and pack.”  I can relate; I am so tired of giving up my time to pack up more crap when I have no real idea where I am going. I am beginning to think that these ‘loan professionals’ are really S&M aficionados and are getting their ‘rocks off’ by watching us jump through hoops at their every whim.  We’ve answered the emails, phone calls, and countless ridiculous requests at a desperate pace; hoping to be done with it all in time to be out before our lease is up at the end of the shortest month of the year.  Every time I sit still or it’s quiet in the house I swear I can hear the tick of the clock warning me of the daunting time table that looms before us.  Stress is high and fuses are short. 

When I picked up the boy today he said, “I am not in mood for more attitude, can we just play outside tonight?”  Of course my answer was ‘Yes’ so I will  soak up some Vitamin D relax with my loves tonight until the monkey hits the sheets, then I’ll try to pack at least 2 more boxes before following his lead.  Keep our sanity in your thoughts, as soon as we hear from the   corporate offices for S&M we will sound the fog horns.

Merci, beaucoup!

Things in the Smith household have been running smoothly for quite some time now and I couldn’t be happier. And in the interest of science I felt I needed to pass along my findings from the ‘household experiment’ I was conducting. I have found the best tool at getting the appreciation and recognition needed to prevent any feelings of neglect or resentment. It all stems from enjoying some ‘female bonding’…

I was talking with a friend who was griping that all she wanted was a ‘thank you’ from her husband for taking on the responsibility of being the breadwinner of the family, she felt that he didn’t really appreciate the amount of stress that added to her load. Hearing her talk about how unappreciated she felt made me really take stock of my situation and do some serious damage control. Yes all I really wanted was for Tarzan to really realize what all I did for him and our family on a daily basis, but how could I expect him to take that step when I was unwilling to do the same.

What is it that makes saying ‘thank you’ so hard? All this time I was getting some sort of sick pleasure in knowing that I could do all the chores around the house, cook all the meals, get Cheetah ready for the next day, take care of the animals, and have some down time for myself. Why? To prove I don’t ‘need him’, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Wasn’t that the whole reason why I married him?? Not because I needed someone to help me live my life but because I WANTED him there, in my life, so why wasn’t I letting him be present in our life we had built together? Was the way he folded clothes, spiced supper, walked the dog, or cleaned the house really that important? No. What was/is important is that he DOES fold the laundry, cook supper, clean the house, and love Cheetah and I wholeheartedly.

That night I sat down beside Tarzan on the couch and held his hand, I looked into his eyes and smiled. I went on to tell him how much I valued the stress and worry that went along with being the breadwinner and how I knew I would never be able to understand what it’s like being in his shoes every day but that I appreciated him getting up every morning and going to work…for us and for our life. I wanted him to know how much it really means to know that someone is that invested in Cheetah and I, and that he makes his choice every day to work so that we can buy food, clothes, books, cds, and go on trips. He then went on to say how easy it was when I was there to make sure food was on the table, clothes were clean, the house was clean, and that he could count on me to help with Cheetah.

I really went about this whole ‘experiment’ in the wrong way. I didn’t need to find ways to trick him into doing chores or make a point (at his expense) so that he learns to do things on his own…I need to say ‘thank you’. What a difference two little words can make.

It was all in the name of 'science'.

Tarzan and I have always been very forthcoming with each other and it always seemed to work for us until recently. The change in the dynamic of our relationship is what urged me to start a blog, I felt like I couldn’t take anymore. I had tried the direct approach of asking for help and was tired of either hearing countless number of sighs or got tired of being told to write him a list, so I needed some sort of outlet for my frustrations. You can imagine my surprise when a mere two weeks after starting the blog the scales in my house were tipped. I’m not sure if he found out about the blog or if the release was just what the doctor ordered but I am welcoming the change. It’s nice not to want to smother you spouse as he sleeps noisily next to you (I kid, I kid).

The sudden change made me look back in some of my journals I used to keep, before the good old days of airing your dirty laundry and I realized a trend. The Smith household has a pattern of moods, if you will. For several weeks or months the house will run like a well oiled machine and then a gear gets stuck and production hits a snag. This is where I usually pick up the slack, without realizing it and everything continues as normal. We can go for several more weeks like this until the gas runs low and I begin to run on fumes. Then comes the blowup. For about 2 weeks the house is like a mind filed, just a misspoken word could warrant a full frontal attack by either party. It’s not pretty. Then one of us gives in, usually Tarzan, (I don’t always give him the credit he deserves) and the cleaning crew is called in and we are ‘business as usual’ yet again. So I have decided that obviously this needs to be addressed. If this is the SAME fight we have over and over again, it’s time to lay it to rest.

After a DEEP cleaning the house is where I (the stress should be on the ‘I’) like it to be and I plan on keeping it that way. I have decided to suck up my pride and deal with the heavy sighs and eye rolling that I get from Tarzan and ask (nicely and with NO nagging) to please help with daily tasks so things will never reach my land mind state. Mind you I have tried this before but I am up for giving it the 'good ole college try' and seeing if we can really push past this mess (pun intended).

So far so good, now mind you we are on week one but I am hopeful. I will make sure that I ASK for help and don’t attempt to do it all myself and I will allow for his need for a night off from chores every once and a while and his weekly boy’s night. Now who’s up for starting a weekly girl’s night? How DO you get one of those??

Picking your battles

I was so excited for a long weekend, I was looking forward to cuddle time with Cheetah, and I a lot of couple time with Tarzan at night watching movies. It was also the weekend that the Smith family would celebrate Cheetah's birthday, so a fun time would be had by all.

The 1st two nights went well. Tarzan was extremely helpful in getting the house ready for all of the Smith family and relatively well mannered as the family partied it up on Saturday. That is where my fantasy long weekend came to a screeching halt. Tarzan had borrowed a video game from a friend and I could only steal him away from it long enough to fold 4 loads of laundry and 1 load of dishes.

I had to wash dishes just so I could make a pitcher of tea...ridiculous. I drank as much of the tea that I could in the next day and a 1/2 and when I poured the last sip of tea, I put the empty pitcher in the fridge. To prove a point, of course. Two hours later he walked down the hall to our bedroom (where I was painting my toenails) and said, "Jane did you seriously put an empty pitcher BACK in the fridge?" "Come on, really?!?" I looked at him, shocked. He turned and walked away. I swear I was so pissed that I dreamed about that damn pitcher all night. I awoke with a plan. I wondered, would he react the same to other ‘tastes of his own medicine’.

He is always getting on to me for leaving condiments out after I fix my plate, I intend to be thoughtful and leave them out for his use, and I really don’t see it as a big deal. So on Sunday we made hamburgers and hotdogs, I was in the kitchen first to fix my plate. As soon as I was done with everything I put it back in the fridge. He walks in as I am sliding the ketchup in the door and he says, “Now come on, you know I was gonna need that.” I said, “Sorry you are always reminding me that I leave things out and I wanted to try to think ahead.” He responds, “Be reasonable.” Suprisingly I left this alone. I must say I am getting pretty good at this ‘biting my tongue’ thing, if I learn nothing else from this…I must say it’s probably worth it. Pick your battles.

Speaking of picking battles…Tarzan has this habit of hanging his clothes (freshly laundered) on the jam of the laundry room door (as well as on the shower curtain in Cheetah’s bathroom). At one point Monday night they were knocked down (I SWEAR that it was not me) and he found the dog laying on them in the hallway. He came to me (laughing) and said, "You owe me, the dog was laying on my pants (that were on the floor), I cleaned them off and hung them back up." I wanted to scream. Since when am I his maid? I responded, “Yeah you’re right, I owe YOU for cleaning your pants.” As he turned and walked away I gave serious thought to hurting him. LOL. How does it go from sweet, happy, loving, newlyweds to maid, cook, washer woman, and concierge?

All in all it was a good weekend, Cheetah and I cuddled as often and as long as he would allow it. His explanation for the shorter cuddle time was, “I’m older Momma, things are going to be different.” Oy vay. Tarzan and I did get lots of stuff done, we marked lots of stuff for our upcoming garage sale. It was a little hard to get it done though, between all the “killing” he did on the video game (insert sigh). Oh well, I guess we really all do have our own idea of a fantastic LONG weekend.

What will happen if I don't do it?

Since the dawn of man, I am pretty sure that all women have had a similar thought run through their heads, “What WILL happen if I don’t do it?” Out of frustration, need, or the desperate thought that it all HAS to get done we stay up late, skip out on relaxing, and skimp on together time with our families to try to make everything run more smoothly. So, out of desperation I have decided to turn my life into an experiment. I am going to attempt to ignore the call of the chores with an immediate chore session and give Tarzan and Cheetah the chance to help out.

I will see exactly what will happen if I don’t take out the garbage, don’t wash clothes, don’t cook supper, and don’t clean house. Will all the chores get done by that magic 'chore fairy' that has boycotted my house in the past? Maybe I’ll learn to let things slide, maybe I can learn why I feel the need to ‘do’ so much, maybe I'll learn not to feel guilty when things get left alone, or maybe I’ll just learn how to ignore that terrible sigh that Tarzan lets out when I ask him to help out.

Will the same chores get done, will there be a redistribution of labor around the house or will we end up being inspected by family services??