READ. THE FREAKIN. FINE. PRINT.

And no, I'm not talking about my husband's rock awesome book, The Fine Print of Christianity (onsaletodayatonlineretailerseverywhere), though you can read that too, cuz it's rock awesome.  What I'm really talking about at the moment is regular fine print.  Or small fonts.  On, you know, some things you use.

Sorry, let me explain.

I'm not cheap, and I'm not *devastatingly* poor.  I am on a budget, and it's totally different.

I never considered myself a big spender.  At least, I didn't consider myself a big spender until I had to learn to pay close attention to my spending habits.  Because even though I didn't buy tons of clothes or great shoes, if I saw something that appealed to me (especially if it cost under 20 bucks), I bought it.  New eye shadow? Gimme.  Different brand of facial lotion? Why the heck not. Cutesy holiday decorations?  More please!!

But now, I have a budget.  I can't just go buy a new pair of shoes, or an outfit for my daughter, or any dang thing unless I sit down during our monthly budget meeting and explain the need for the purchase (then make sure it gets paid for, which may I say, is difficult when you're paying huge maternity doctor bills and paying down student loans and trying to save a few bucks here and there all at the same time).

So in an effort to change my terrible behaviors, and to straighten up one of the nastiest parts of my home all at the same time, a few months ago I cleaned out my bathroom cupboards.  I found loads of make up, hair product, facial and body lotions that I'd half used and forgot about, or decided I'd like to try something else instead or SQUIRREL!    You get the point.  But now, instead of trying to budget in new lotions and products, I've been working through my old stashes.

One thing I like, nay, NEED to do is lotion up my hands and feet before bed every night.  My feet get hot, I can't sleep.  They need lotion.  So, upon running out of my regular lotion, I found half a bottle of Olay Quench and have been applying that every night.  Until last night, that is.  Because yesterday, I happened to take a looksie at the bottom of my left foot, only to discover, well, this:

That's right.  My feet were orange.  A disturbing, probably have some sort of terrifying medical condition shade of orange.  So after the initial horror wore off, I went back to my lotion, and reread the bottle three times before finding the itsy bitsy words near the bottom:  continually moisturizes and subtly enhances skin tone and color.  I have loads of problems with that list of words, but mostly these:  1-not subtle. Very, VERY not subtle. 2: I don't consider oompa loompa orange to be an enhancement on my personal skin color, but then, maybe that's just me.

Ah well.  On the bright side, it's January and I'm wearing exclusively foot-hiding shoes these days, and had I not just told the 10-15 people likely to read this post, no one besides my mortified husband would know what had happened to my sad, discolored feet.

So there's your weekend PSA folks, hope none of you get sneak-attacked by your consumer products!!

I'm dreaming of a plastic Christmas!

I wouldn't have thought so.  Growing up, I fought strongly on the side of real.  When my husband told me he grew up with fake, I responded with a level of emotion that would have been a little more appropriate had he just informed me that he spent his childhood being molested by his local religious official.  But he wasn't, so it's okay.

Point is, I never wanted a fake tree.  They seemed weird a cheap and trashy, somehow.  And you guys know me, it's high class all the way baby.

But then, well, stuff happened.  Stuff like living in rental homes wherein we were contractually obligated  NOT to destroy the carpet with tree sap.  Freakin landlord Nazis. So we searched every store we could find and found one we liked, 7.5 feet and NOT prelit.  (We didn't think prelit sounded good.  Prelit sounds like, will burn out every 1-2 years like all of our other Christmas lights, and will need frequent and expensive replacing.)

Anyway, as we unpacked our Christmas tree on the day after Thanksgiving this year, I had a thought.  Followed by, like, a bunch of other thoughts.

First thought: This is OUR Christmas tree.

This is our tree's fifth year as a part of our family.  We've had it a few months longer than we've had our cat.  Every year, we take the day after Thanksgiving, pop in the same Christmas CD, and assemble OUR tree.  We're actually getting pretty good at it.

Our family is a fake Christmas tree family.  Our kids won't have memories like mine, of wandering through a parking light fighting over the merits of flocking, of spending three straight hours trying to find the least bald side and the least leany angle.  They won't have feet stabbed by pine needles that have dried into tiny, sharp weapons and hidden themselves in the carpet.  And they will never have to worry about their tree drying into a terrifying brown fire hazard before Christmas day.  They'll have memories of pulling OUR tree out of storage, and putting it back together with family.  They'll get to have a Christmas tree up for a month or longer every year because why not?  It's not like it's going anywhere.

It seems my bias has become no less intense, I just sort of switched sides.

And to understand why, Let me show you the tree that stole my heart.

It cost 79.98.  I know this only because it's emblazoned on the box we keep repacking it in every January.  And once again, this is year 5.  That's already only $16 a year.  So instead of spending money on throw away trees every year, we buy ourselves and our child(ren) each an ornament that somehow represents the year.  Our kids will get theirs, each marked with their names and years, when they grow up and move away some day.  In other words, we may not have a real pine tree, but our home is filled with PLENTY of sap. Hey-o!

And yes, the trunk-stick-thingy wrapped in what seems to be a close cousin to pipe cleaners leaves a little to be desired.  However, keep in mind that I have been a super present buying ninja the past couple of weeks, and it won't be long till those babies are wrapped and that stick is appropriately hidden.

So now that we've entered the holiday season and my living room has taken on a distinctly Santa's Workshop-ish vibe, I thought I'd write a little love note to that big hunk of metal and plastic I've become so fond of.

Hope you all are enjoying your Thanksgiving weekends and finding something to love as well!  Also, I hope none of you got trampled to death on Black Friday, or got in the way of that woman with the pepper spray.  I swear, there are no amount of savings that I probably can't find anyway that would get me out in that lunatic mess again.  You people be crazy!

And then there was time to chillax

So in terms of the root canal,  it seems I'm officially off the Tylenol!  As long as I'm careful not to chew on the right side, or let any food wander over there well I'm chewing on the left side, or squeeze my jaw, or close my mouth to quickly or touch my teeth together while talking, I think I'm okay.  So two days of varying degrees of throbbing pain, followed by intense contact sensitivity until the crown is placed (I'm assuming). Can't wait till Wednesday!

Anyway, here's yesterday's thrift store shirt.

I decided to change up my poses a bit, for your viewing pleasure, and, you know, to diversify my portfolio in case the Goodwill is looking for a new model.  And in case you're reading this, The Goodwill, I'm just putting this out there, I'm available for print ads, and can also do a little acting, in case that helps!

So this shirt (still only cost $2.95) is Calvin Klein, a very light cotton blend that feels incredibly soft, cool, and flowy, but wrinkled immediately when I held my daughter for a minute or two.  I think those fell out pretty quickly though, so no love lost.  This one seemed to get the strongest reception from the viewing public and the husband, so I suppose it's the current thrifty-winner.

Today it's back to layered rib tanks, as it is a non-work day.  And as the daughter is napping and I have chosen to be a lazy sack of human parts, I'm looking a little bit like this:

Ah Friday, Friday.  Fun fun, fun fun.

Hope you ALSO get sometime this weekend to lounge on the couch and watch really bad TV!

Strappin on my cheap-skates

So I've done two slightly odd and very "college" things today.  The first, was shopping.  Not that shopping is odd, but my shopping choice was.  After a stop at the bank to collect my weekly Benjamin (or 5 Jacksons, as it were), I headed to the Goodwill.  I've had a dilemma lately.  I need shirts that fit, and aren't falling apart because I've had them since high school.  On the other hand, I've committed to spending less money.  Focus on the debt.  Become a grown up.  I decided I wanted to spend very little money and get a lot for it.  I wanted to spend $20.  That felt reasonable.  Even at Target though, that's MAYBE one shirt.  I tend to avoid thrift stores since my post-teen years.  I feel weird about them, like I'm stealing from poor people, or like maybe I'm homeless.  But today I swallowed that last bit of pride.  I hit up the Goodwill and got 5 nice quality, attractive, great fitting, work appropriate tops for a grand total of $14.75.  I am officially in love.

The second thing is that I dyed my hair.  More though, I dyed my hair blonde.  Scratch that, I dyed my hair Ultra Light Ash Brown.  Scratch again, pretty sure I dyed my hair crazy.

Last time I dyed my hair, I picked a medium ash brown.  Ash is supposed to minimize redness, and redness is my biggest annoyance with hair dye.  Of course, as some of you so astutely pointed out, the last dye job came out, well, red.  Maybe auburn, okay, but definitely red-familied.

I chose today's color for a few reasons.  One, the Crack-addict version of Mrs. Robinson  on the box cover actually seemed to have (what I assume to be) my natural color.  Apparently, I have a Ultra Light Ash Brown hair.  I'll need to remember that, next time someone asks.  It should sound a lot better than saying "dunno".  Next, it was a color that proclaimed to be specifically FOR those of us with darker hair.  And while it specifically warned against using over hair that had been dyed anything darker than medium brown, I thought, well shucks, lucky thing my last dye job was a medium!  I figured this box was meant for me.  Thirdly, even though the last ash-dye was a miserable failure, I chalked it up to the brand. L'oreal certainly won't fail me.  Certainly.  And lastly, well, I just like the word ultra.  It sounds powerful.  It sounds electric and exciting.  Exactly what I think of when I think light ashy brown hair.

So I did it.  And the results are, well... I don't know.  I'm scared.  It looks ridiculous wet, like, strawberry blonde roots and nearly black the rest of the way down.  And I followed the instructions on the box!  I'm... pretty sure I followed the directions on the box! Start at the ends, do the roots for the last ten minutes, right?  Ah well, I'm hoping it'll look better dry, but I'm just too nervous to accomplish that.  Plus, we're watching The Postman Always Rings Twice, and it's a riot, so I'm not going anywhere.

If you think I'm terribly upset about this, then it seems you don't know me.  I consider a bottle of hair dye  an adventure.  The color never looks anything like the picture, and you could come out looking like a complete imbecile.  It's almost like some cross between a Choose Your Own Adventure novel and Russian roulette.  I guess this particular bottle may have been the loaded chamber.  Just the same, I bought a back up bottle.  If it's as bad as I suspect, it'll be nearly black again within a week or two.  Just the same, it would have been nice to go au'naturel again, if only for a little while.  Seems I may not have the patience for that.

Another reason I'm not concerned though, is that I've firmly decided to not ever go to a salon again.  Or at least a while.  It's been over 10 months since I paid for a haircut, and I'm shooting for at least 2 total years.  I'll dye my own hair, the same as I cut my own bangs, and suffer any consequences that follow.  I don't like going to salons.  I don't like paying $100 for a cut and color.  I have no idea how much to tip a hairdresser.  I don't even know why we tip a person who sets their own rates.  And to top it all off, I can't help but feel that they're constantly judging me.  Sometimes I even tip more than I think necessary (of course, what the heck do I know) just to make them like me.  Because here's the thing.  Every hairdresser I've ever met is amazingly cool, WHEREAS, I am a raging dork.  Somehow, it always feels like high school again.  And anyway, who really cares what your hair looks like?  Am I going to be socially shunned for having roots lighter than my tips?  Well by golly, it's a little too late for that, again, DORK.

Anyway, I'm back home for good now, and I've been marinating LOTS of thoughts, so stay tuned in for lots of chatter in the next couple weeks!

Hope you're all having a honest to box-picture kind of day!

Budget-cation. Also, I got fat again. Bums-ville.

Hello old blog-friend, I missed you.  By way of explanation for my blog-quitting, it should be said that today is my first full at-home day since Memorial Day (I've been working a TON during the last 2 weeks of school since I had some extra childcare), and we had company at our house then.  And the week before that, we were on vacation.  Basically, I haven't been on my normal life/work schedule since mid May.  This ALSO means that I've neglected my blog, my reports, my Bible reading, my exercising, and my house cleaning.  Oh, and the lawn is starting to look all "Welcome to the Jungle".  So.. can you guess what's on my To Do list for today?  Potato chips and couch-lounging, here I come!!

Anyhow, onward and upward.

This is week TWO of my cash budget living and it's going.... pretty well.  Pretty well?  Yeah... I think so.  Yeah.  I'm definitely making money-saving choices in life, I switched to cheaper coffee creamer, and I'm noticing the "little extras" that I'm inclined to go to the store for, and am now forced to choose not to.    In essence, life has become a zero-sum game.  You want to spend extra money on X?  Well then you won't get Y.  And as we're going on vacation AGAIN next week (Seriously? Who have we become?) there has been extra stuff we need, and no extra money to buy it with.  Sorry local restaurants, we won't be patronizing your fine establishments, well, maybe ever again at this rate.  It's going to take some time getting used to, some time till I get really good at this, but I think it's possible.  And in the mean time, we're still saving some money!  Debt-free future, here we come!!

Oh, and are any of you still interested in my weight?  Well, with all of our vacationing and celebrationing and what not, I gained some weight back.  I'm sitting rather solidly at 150.  Not. Going. Well.

Oh number two:  Vacation is not TECHNICALLY a vacation.  At least, not for Shane.  It's Hi-Camp.  Maddie-pants and I are coming along to vacation in the vicinity of Shane's strenuous work week.  It's gonna be AWESOME.

Hope you're all having a faux-cation worthy week!

Getting Budget-Faced

Why hello there!  Hey, remember when I used to post everyday?  Yep.  That happened once upon a time.

Well, we're home from vacation, and empty homed now that our parent-visitors have now all left.  Whew, what a week!  Lots of fun, lots of crazy, and it's time to get back to it.

One way in which I thought I'd help us "get back to it" is to institute our first official cash budget!  ::Trumpeting fanfare time is now::  Now I have found that I have the ability to do all of our grocery shopping for about 50-60 bucks a week.  This CAN include all of our little possible extras, toiletries, makeups, pet supplies, baby wipes, whatever shopping must be done CAN be done for that amount.  If I focus.

Because if I DON'T focus, I find myself making loads of unnecessary trips to Target through the week buying. . . I don't know.  Target stuff.  Oh, and we start "picking something up" when I am too lazy to cook the stuff I so frugally planned for earlier in the week.  Laziness is expensive.  Laziness is officially banned from the Miller house.

So, as of yesterday, we are now officially spending no more than 100 bucks a week on variable expenses, including everything except gas for our cars.  So any food, clothes, shopping, gifts, dates, etcetcetc, have to fit in that $100.  And I'm carrying it in cash, so that I can feel the painfully clear stop sign at the end of the money.

My first experience of this, was that it was thrilling.  Because I'm an idiot.  I got the cash out of the bank, and ran straight to Target to purchase some printer paper, my weeks supply of slim fast bars, and diet soda.  But guess what?  Target carries SOOO much more stuff than that!  The demon in my brain started pointing out all the extra stuff I could buy.  "Hey, as long as it's not over 100 bucks, it's no big deal!"  Because buying a purse or cute top in lieu of groceries this week makes tons of sense.  Right.  Thankfully, I made it out of Target with only the few items I'd gone in for.

I'm going to have to get used to this, but it's kind of exciting.  I couldn't do all the ridiculously specific budgeting at the beginning of the month, but I know we'll do away with tons of thoughtless junk spending this way, and I get to know exactly how much money I have to spend (as opposed to the previous mindset: spend as little as possible and feel really guilty about it).  I get to make decisions each week, for any monies above the regular grocery budget.  New jeans for the husband?  Cute earrings for me? Date night? Family trip to the zoo?  Save it up for next week and go on a crazed 50 dollar shopping spree?  Ah, the possibilities are nearly endless.

Oh, and Grandma, (who won't read this, as she doesn't have the internet because she believes it may be infesting her home with bugs.  No Grandma, that's not what "bugs" means.) you've convinced me.  All the adorable thrift-store dresses that you've purchased for my daughter has finally gotten through my thick brain, that Target trips are no longer necessary for my life. Wow.  Can't believe I just said that.

Have a wonderful week y'all, hope you're finding the bestest ways to spend YOUR blow money!