This one's for you, MaryAnne.

I get it. It can be addicting. Once you've gotten used to paying less than $1.50 for cereal, it's hard not to run to the store to stock up when you find a screaming deal. Staring at a receipt reflecting that you saved more than you spent - truly exhilirating. You think, man, I may not be bringing home a paycheck, but baby, look at what I'm saving the family! A couple of months ago, I hit a department store during their end-of-season clearance. I walked out carrying Anna's entire wardrobe for next winter (and a few token items for the other girls, too). Twenty-one items for just over $70. How much did I save? $386. Never mind that I would never (ever, EVER!) have paid full price for even one of those articles of clothing, how could I not give myself a huge pat on the back for that! It was freakin' awesome, I tell you. The Fruit Gushers I got a few weeks back for only 10 cents a box - pretty darn sweet, too. And getting Old Orchard Juice concentrate for free (after coupons and catalina savings) - not bad, if I do say so myself.

So here's the problem. Several, actually. First, as a wife and mother of four children, I cannot help but factor in opportunity cost. In order to catch all the best deals, I could visit the store multiple times per week. Should I stay home and assemble a puzzle with my kids, or should I drag them all to Albertson's, ignore their needs while I fill my cart with items I don't really need right then, organize them into several transactions, and stuff a chocolate chip cookie into their mouths to keep them quiet while I pay for my groceries? Another scenario: would I rather kiss my husband goodbye after tucking the children into bed and spend a quiet hour at the grocery store stocking up on the week's deals or relax in his company after a long day of being away from one another? I've caved to both options - the latter of which seems to work better but I still think it's a wash. I'm an every other week grocery trip sort of girl.

Second, if it wasn't on my list in the first place, can I really justify spending money on it? Will the health of my family suffer if I stockpile sugar cereal and fruit snacks because those happen to be the products for which I can score a deal? I'm all for convenience foods, believe me. I have four kids and we are on-the-go a lot. But, couldn't the time spent surfing blogs, cutting coupons, perusing weekly ads, and shopping be better used making loaves of homemade bread with my kids, growing my own vegetables, and planning healthy meals from scratch? Wouldn't our waistlines thank us?

And finally, there's something to be said for "out of sight, out of mind". If I'm only going to the store once every other week, aren't I less likely to cave to a impulse buy? And even if I stick to my list religiously, the mere frequency of multi-weekly visits to the store means more money spent. It just does.

I don't pass any judgment on self-proclaimed couponing gurus. But I can't help feeling that a friend of mine, who called herself a "casual couponer" has got it right. Sure, I've got Lucky Charms up the wazoo in my storage room. But, in my unscientific cost-benefit analysis, the jury's still out.

I got no style.

I am every teenage daughter's worst nightmare for a mother. I can picture our future shopping trips. You know the ones where I hold up an item of clothing and say something to the effect of, "How's this?" and she responds by saying, "Well, Mom, it's cute for you." And that's if I'm lucky enough to have trained her in the ways of tact. I know this. I know this because I said the exact same thing to my mom 15 to 20 years ago. Apparently my sense of style was rather short-lived. And now I'm bracing myself for the reality that I will never be a "cool" mom.

Part of me wonders why one as fashion-deficient as me would be blessed with so many beautiful girls - I'm probably the envy of every "cute" mom out there. You know, the ones who comment that girls are so much fun! Their clothes are so adorable. The hairstyling possibilities are endless! I should be so grateful! And I am grateful - grateful that I have girls, but not for the above reasons. Because, as anyone looking at me can quickly tell, my appearance doesn't even fall into my top ten (I should post a picture here, for emphasis, but I'm out of town and don't have access to the real "winners").

Don't get me wrong - I don't assume that people who have style are shallow or that they place value on worthless things. Most of them have just got "the knack". And they can do wonderful things with those talents. But, since I don't have it (the knack, that is), choosing to spend my time trying to achieve it would be nonsense. I've got other talents.

So, while I think it's great that some people can do "cute", I can't. My girls will learn calculus, literature, cooking, cleaning, hard work, the gospel, gardening and music. If they want a sense of style, they'd better hope that somehow the genes aligned in their favor. Cause they don't stand a chance at learning it with me as their mom. Sorry girls.

P.S.

Now that I am no longer in a late night stupor, it has occurred to me that my oldest (and maybe the other two) would be absolutely mortified to find their friends watching their lovely display. Anna, in particular, is super-self-conscious. So please, in deference to her, do not share. Thanks.

Burning the midnight oil.

It's been a crummy week. We've been pretty much in lockdown mode since, oh, last Saturday. I'd like to thank Anna for bringing the lovely germs that have morphed into all sorts of fun around here - pink eye, ear infections, middle-of-the-night coughing fits. That's right, it's 3 am and this is the fifth night in a row I have been up (multiple times, I might add) with a screaming three-year-old. I went to register Lily for kindergarten today and it was about the most fun I've had since the quarantine begun. That is, besides scoring a million boxes of fruit snacks and Kellogg's cereal for mere pennies. But that's a story for another day. On the bright side - neither Tim nor I (nor Eve, miraculously!) has developed anything in the way of phlegm or eye goop. I'm still crossing my fingers. So here's to a week of bad parenting - dumping a Joy School lesson on another mom when she called me up to ask a favor (see if she tries that again), more hours of TV and computer than I could possibly count, threatening a protesting child that if she "spits out her medicine I will spank her" (yes, those were my exact words) and catering hand over foot to the needs of two rotten middle children while the more delightful(but not so sick) ones flounder in neglect. Cheers! Oh, and in other bright news, I have a new niece. She's beautiful! We wish we could have been there! But believe me, you're definitely glad we weren't. Here's our little pink, crusty-eyed gem. This was at the start of her woes. And then not even a personal nurse could have kept up with the green ooze. Here's Rachel. We weren't quick enough on the draw for naptime today. But hey, she's wearing something besides pajamas. Small victories. And step, touch, step, ball change and pas de bourree:

Dang, it takes a long time to post video. Love my girls. And my guy, too. But we're not talking about him right now.

And the winner is...

Only two people? Two? Wow, either my readership is way down, or you all just don't have much of an imagination (or time, and believe me, I get that). Well, Stephanie, marshmallows... sounds interesting. Mind if I try it? And Sweetest of All, Squash Bisque is healthy - something my kids would not touch. Although that wouldn't stop me from making it. Still, I don't know that I ever have. So, you're both wrong!

It was Chicken Tortilla Soup. I often make a Bean Tortilla Soup, so, to be honest, I have no recollection of making this particular dish. Which means, I can narrow it down to about the last year, since that's when I began this lovely tradition of freezing things. It wasn't bad... if a bit freezer-burned.

Mystery dinner.

Towards the end of my pregnancy with Eve, I began a habit of making double recipes of freezable dinners and putting one half in the freezer to be devoured during those bleak-dinner post-birth days. I had a stash of about fourteen when she was born, stowed away in foil containers so that could go straight from the freezer to the oven. Boy, those came in handy. Thankfully, the habit stuck. Pretty much every week I still make a meal large enough to split in two and save the extra for a later date. As a bonus, it makes it easy to bring a meal to someone in need, too. And, you don't have to eat lasagna for an entire week from your 9 by 13. I just make two 9 by 9's and freeze one. Unfortunately, I haven't caught onto the beauty of properly labeling said freezer meals. So today, when a Joy School lesson and four sick kids dashed my hopes of from-scratch minestrone, I reached into the farthest corners of my freezer and pulled out this. I have NO idea what it is. But it's for dinner. Anyone want to venture a guess? I'll give you an unmarked freezer meal if you guess right...

In the way of updates...

Over the past few months, some of the baby pounds have begun to slip away and my body has melted into a recognizable me. How have you done it, you ask? Well, it's simple. I'm neither nursing nor pregnant (and have been for some time now). So, here I sit, at a weight that my body seems to like and though I'm thrilled that my clothes fit oh so much better, I know that I could do better. Meaning, if I actually tried to exercise and eat right, I might actually have the energy to keep up with my kids. So, after I find myself a workout partner, I will be getting up at 6 a.m. to take a crack at this whole exercise thing. Anyone game?

In other news, we planted a couple of bareroot apple trees behind our property line -can you imagine soil so full of rocks and clay that a 3 foot diameter hole takes 45 minutes to dig? I don't have to. Looking forward to putting the kids to work in a few years during the September apple harvest.

I stayed home from church with all four little ones today. Lots of phlegm, goop in the eyes, that sort of stuff.

Tim is slowly checking things off the honey-do list. Here's the latest in the organizational madness: a wall-mounted coat rack. Yay! No more coats cascading out of their designated baskets beneath the laundry room counter.



Eve can sign a few important words like "milk", "food" and "more". As far as talking goes, she makes no sense whatsoever (though she seems to think so). I wonder what the sign is for "messy"? She likes that, a lot. Walking though? Not so much.

After a three-month hiatus (yeah, not sure how I scored that kind of break) I'm teaching Joy School this week. Seven preschoolers (and Rachel) learning about relationships and communication. Can't wait. No really. I love Joy School.

Now I'm off to end my temporary starvation... er, I mean, fast. (Oh, let's be honest, when you're home from church feeding the mouths of four sick kids all day, it's starvation, all right?) And on that note, here's a picture of the most adorable one-year old alive. It's easy to love life when you get a piece of this everyday.

Is honesty alive?

Last Friday I walked out of the grocery store with a carton of ice cream for which I hadn't paid. After packing the rest of the groceries into my trunk, I headed back toward the store to figure out what had happened, running into the people who had stood behind me in line. I asked the dad if they had tried to buy the carton of ice cream that had ended up in my bag. He replied, "no" and said "sweet" when I told him that the ice cream I was carrying wasn't on my receipt. I continued into the store and resolved the issue with the checker. I was a bit miffed by the fact that someone I know considers it a bonus to walk away with a "free" carton of ice cream. Nothing is free. Someone has to pay for it, somehow.

Saturday, as I followed the news on the earthquake in Chile, I was astounded that although initial reports focused on damage, loss of life, and a possible tsunami, later news articles highlighted the lawlessness that was rampant in the most heavily damaged towns and cities. I couldn't believe that less than 24 hours after the quake, people felt justified in ransacking supermarkets and even neighbors homes for basic necessities. Shouldn't this be a time to band together?

Now, I've only been in one major earthquake in my lifetime and, though the desperation/grief was palpable even hundred or so miles from the epicenter where I lived, I fail to understand how people can disintegrate into anarchy under such circumstances. I would hate to think that if such a disaster were to strike my hometown, that I would have to protect my 6-12 month supply of food at gunpoint. Seriously, people. I'd gladly give my stuff away, but to have it stolen? The thought is disappointing, at best.

Personally, I don't think that returning an unpaid-for item to the grocery store is something to be commended. And the events of the last week have given me pause - in fact, humanity has been knocked down a notch or two in my mind.

So couple all of this with the fact that I finished the Book of Mormon on Sunday. In one of the last chapters, Mormon is lamenting the degradation of his people, a civilization who, in a matter of a few short years, turned against God so completely as to be without civilization, their works so abominable that Mormon wept over them. Even so, he manages to find hope in Christ. He says, "My son, be faithful in Christ, and may not the things which I have written grieve thee, to weigh thee down unto death, but may Christ lift thee up, and may his sufferings and death, and the showing his body unto our fathers, and his mercy and long-suffering, and the hope of his glory and of eternal life, rest in your mind forever."

One only needs to watch the news to get discouraged about the state of the world. But I, too, find hope in Christ, that He lives, that He suffered the pains of all men, and that He will come again in glory. What a triumphant day that will be.