G’morning! I am not in the best of moods today because I woke up at 3:30 am and couldn’t go back to sleep; I am also cramping like a mofo and am ill that J was so pissy this morning.
I grocery shopped yesterday. No, I didn’t take photos, but I did have some funny thoughts. I had a list of what I needed, and I compare prices between sizes and brands to get the best value.There are certain things I am willing to pay more for, such as fresh fruits and veggies versus canned (but we eat canned too!) and products without high-fructose corn syrup. Somethings I am completely happy to buy store brand because the value and quality is just as good as the more expensive stuff. That said, I was imagining the mindset of someone who loves to shop and spend money. Do y’all know someone like that? Ahem. So I’m standing in the baking aisle because I needed a bottle of oil. I knew that I would buy the store brand vegetable oil as I use it for baking and frying. For salads, sautéing and what have you I am loyal to a certain brand of EVOO. Anyway, I channeled a certain mindset and had this conversation in my head as I browsed the oils:
OK, the store brand vegetable oil is $2.49. A bottle of Crisco vegetable oil is $4.89, and Mazola corn oil is $5.19. Whew. Is it getting warm in here? OK, a heart-healthy mixed blend oil is $5.25, and organic sunflower oil is $5.99 for a small bottle. Oooh, my nipples are getting tingly. What else do we have here? Organic grape seed oil for $7.29…..Mmmmmmmmmm……Organic peanut oil is $9.99…….ooooooooooooohhhhhhhh…….Organic virgin coconut oil is $15.99 for a peanut butter-sized jar! YES!! YES!! DON’T STOP!! YES!! For that price I better buy four more! OH GOD!!!
Anyway, that was how I approached grocery shopping yesterday. You’re welcome.
I got a haircut and eyebrow wax Wednesday. With tip I paid $28.95. I always get a rash from the wax and have to use hydrocortisone cream for a few days so it is imperative that I don’t wax for several days prior to having major plans. It is ugly–I have angry red skin and bumps above, below, and between my brows otherwise I would have taken a picture of them for you. Instead, feel free to enjoy this photo of Footlong in Las Vegas modeling a hot body shirt:
I know, I know. He’s a babe. I can’t believe that Footlong is going to be 7 in about a month and a half. Seems like yesterday I was pregnant with him and enjoying every little bump, thump, and hiccup. He loves the first grade, and he takes his work very seriously. His handwriting is improving so much, and I love looking at his math papers where he has to draw little piggies, fish, stars, hearts, kittens, and other things as he learns addition. He seems to have quite an ear for music and picks up song lyrics easily. His favorite song is “I Wish” by Matt Palmer, and he sings the shit out of it.
6-inch and I have fun spending our days together. At the grocery store yesterday I picked up a squeezeable pouch of pureed strawberries and bananas and squirted some in his mouth. I could only push the cart a few steps at a time before he would whine for more. Poor kid couldn’t figure out how to squeeze it himself! I was happy to oblige, and by the time we were at the register he had eaten the entire pouch. I was so freaking happy that I had to call J and tell him. Today we’re not doing much; I need to clean the house and organize some baby clothes we’re selling. Tomorrow we are spending the day in Mesa with our good friends and celebrating their son’s birthday. Sunday we will just chill at home, and that suits us just fine.
I have not heard back from my insurance company or the bitchy woman at the doctor’s office, so I still don’t know if I’m going to have weight loss surgery or a small intestine endoscopy. Your guess is as good as mine.
I want another glass of Diet Coke. Be right back.
6-inch is singing a baby opera in his exersaucer. It alternates between dramatic wailing and melodious giggles. I want to go in the other room, grab my phone and take a video, but if he sees me he will stop. I’m content to sit here and listen. I guess I will go in there and sing along with him since every opera has a fat woman singing, right? LOL