Tightening the purse strings.

This has been a big year for me and the Smith family, I'll expound on that in a later post, but one of the biggest occasions has been booking the Smith's 2017 trip to Europe. I was born in Heidelberg, Germany (my parents were stationed there at the time), in 1978, and I have never had the chance to return to my birthplace but that is going to change. We head abroad at the end of May, for a "quick" trip and I am beyond thrilled.

As you can imagine, the trip has been a very frequent topic of discourse in our household. For months now we've been discussing itineraries, flight schedules, passports, & rental cars. I have selected all the cities and sites (Disneyland Paris & the Neuschwanstein Castle made the list, of course) that are mandatory stops on my thirty-eight year old, Trip of a Lifetime; Tarzan is just happy to come along, he makes planning a trip such a breeze. Cheetah has added Rome, Italy, as his must see city on our European trek, and continuously adds new venues to our expedition through Europe.

Due to the hefty price tag that comes along with a trip overseas, we've been tightening the purse strings at the Treehouse. We've instituted meatless meals, elemenated eating out, greatly reduced our outside entertainment budget, and have begun keeping each other in check on our frivolous spending.

I began asking myself, "Do I need/want this? Would I rather _____ while in Germany or France?" - each time I consider purchasing new clothes or shoes. I have also been prompting Tarzan when he is contemplating a purchase and Cheetah when he is requesting a new toy or game, with the same round of questions and have found this practice to be the most helpful; until recently. I believe that I may need to create a different method to remind the family, The Boy especially, as to why we're currently sacrificing our wants for a future time and location:

One day as I reviewed the weekly grocery run with The Boy, we were both adding our lunch & dinner items when I mentioned needing to add tampons to the list. Without skipping a beat, Cheetah demanded, "Do you really need tampons, or can you wait to get tampons in France?"


It took several minutes for me to reign in the snorting and tear shedding laughter but I was able to smile lovingly at him and counter, "Yes my dear, I am sure that I need the tampons now. I may even need tampons while in France, too."

It can be tough on a frugal mom, check out this link for a little comedy relief.

Getting better with age.

People say that things get better with age: wine, cheese, sex, and beef for example. This is a sentiment that I can get behind. My life seems to get better the older that I get, I too seem to improve with age. Things just become easier, maybe it is due to repetition…the more we do something the easier it is, routine almost. Getting through a day becomes a cake walk, you may have your interruptions and delays but at the end of the day…you get cake. However during my short stint in adulthood I have found that there are three situations where I don’t get cake; selecting large pieces of furniture, making/retaining friendships, and getting older.

Picking out furniture for your home is one of the more difficult chores of adulthood. I find myself attracted to items that are not just esthetically pleasing but also quite useful. When I was asked for what gift I wanted for my baby-shower I opted for a glider. After very little consideration I chose a glider, I was pleased with my selection and still am. The glider I picked was like no other; it could be taken apart and washed to help maintain its polished appearance. Let me just say: Just because it ‘says’ it can be taken apart, laundered, and put back together doesn’t me it SHOULD. What bad idea.

Making new/retaining established relationships is difficult as an adult. I have my own theory that is based on the fact that we form kinships during hardships. We have our families that are there through it all, school friends that help you through the awkward years, and the early adult friends that are there as you are learning who you are; but once you have it all figured out how do you make time for the need of companionship? I am lucky that I have several ‘Beaches’ type relationship in my life and a 'Thelma' or two as well; but I could use a good ‘Rachel’, I need someone I can get together with a bit more regularly. I am searching for a local girlfriend who is willing to spend a small time away from the home and family. Someone who can easily get me sidetracked over a cup of coffee or froyo; I’m looking for laughs, monthly ‘girls nights’, and few family get-togethers to help add color to my daily routine. There should be an app for that.

Coming to peace with my age is something that has always come very easily for me; I have always enjoyed the fact that I get older. As mentioned beforehand I have just improved with each year I get to cross off, my thirties have thrown me for a loop though. It has been hard to convince my head that I am getting older. When I look in the mirror I can still fool myself into thinking that I could pass for someone in their twenties, late twenties mind you but twenties nonetheless. Then something very foolish happens, my body (forgetting all reason apparently) gives into my mind and I am coerced into thinking I am 10 feet tall and bullet proof. I will spend hours working in the yard; make countless ‘rounds’ through the neighborhood; or stay up past my bedtime during the week, and the next thing I know I am making inappropriate deals with my alarm clock. I find myself doing yoga in the bathroom just to loosen up my stiff back; turning my lunch hour into ‘nap time’; and making that 2nd pot of coffee just to make it till 3pm. I never expected my thirties to start the joys of middle-age; I assumed that’s what my fifties were for.

There are times when life doesn’t hand me lemons, it chunks them at me, repeatedly. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for the journey and the bumps along the way…it’s just getting hard to explain the bruises.

My spring has sprung!

The acquiring of the new house, packing for the move, and unpacking the new house has been ALL kinds of eventful; it’s becoming a comedy of errors as of late.  We are at the point where we are catching ourselves hysterically laughing for fault of having any idea of how to take things anymore.   Tarzan may be King of the Jungle but his back cried ‘UNCLE’ several weeks ago, my right foot has acquired a very interesting ailment (Plantar Fasciitis), and poor Cheetah is still having problems reeling his emotions in from time to time.  This family needs a break, and along comes spring.

Spring is one of my favorite times of year, I look forward to it annually and by the beginning of February I am in desperate need of it’s comforting breezes, warmth, and promise of ‘feet flirting’.  I have been preparing for spring’s happy arrival for several weeks now.  I’ve been busy dusting off my open toed shoes, shaving my legs (thank God for ‘no shave November’), pruning my yard, and loading up my iPod with all my sunny jams.  Tarzan, Cheetah and I are so excited to fully enjoy our new home and all it’s amenities that we are chomping at the bit to celebrate, ANYTHING.  We have people waiting in the wings to help celebrate any occasion we can come up with…the only problem you ask???



That would be the POOL.  Tarzan has been relentless in trying to schedule a pool guy to come out and get everything up and running with no luck; leaving messages these days is a joke.  So I decided I would try too, I have called 3 times now and I keep getting stood up!  What the heck people, I could probably get it clean and ready on my own if someone could just come show me how to use this pump!!  I am drooling as I pass the pool every day, I am getting desperate here.  As I begin to get busier at work I have days dreams of cool dips in the pool with Cheetah as we work off calories and start our annual OD of vitamin D…and here comes Mr. Disappointment with another day of no word from the ‘pool guys’.  So I am putting my foot down, if by this Friday I have heard nothing I may go into business for myself.  Go ahead and see if I’m bluffing.  I am warning you now ‘pool guys’; I am willing to work for money, I am great at customer service, I have an email address, and I return phone calls…I would be some very SERIOUS competition for you.  I have Google and I can read…those are the only tools I need in my arsenal these days.

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.

Wordless Wednesday - Oh how I need you!!!