The Nuts and Bolts of Shopping

Okay!  I get it!  Now I officially know how painful it is for men to go shopping with women.  The other day I tagged along on a trip to town and ended up walking into what can only be described as a "Man Mall."  As soon as the sliding doors opened I was met with a whoosh of scented air.  Only this time the scent was not Chanel...it was....hmmm....I'm not really sure.  I do know that it was repulsive and I found myself trying desperately not to inhale.  It had a hint of rubber with a top note of gasoline.  This tool warehouse had everything a handyman could ever want.  And get this...it was a discount store!  I guess that's where the similarity lies between men and women and the whole shopping experience:  we all love a good bargain.  There were aisles and aisles of compressors, ratchets, drill presses, and pliers.  No matter where I turned I was met with hardware.  There was not a soft item to be found.  I couldn't breathe.  I had to get out of there.  I actually did what a lot of men do when shopping with women:  I sat down in one of the display chairs.  It was a nice folding lawn chair that came with it's own drink holder and folding table attached.  It was beneath a canvas canopy.  It afforded me a nice view of the socket sets and metal ramps.  So, needless to say, I learned my lesson: always, always, always go shopping alone...or else bring along your best girlfriends and frolic in the makeup and clothing departments knowing there isn't a chainsaw blade or wheelbarrow tire in sight.

The Long and Shorts of it

Oh the weather outside is HOT!  So off I went to buy some shorts for the kids.  Is it just me or are the girls' shorts getting shorter and the boys' shorts  getting longer?  When I held up my son's shorts they looked like capris on me!  And when I held up my daughter's shorts they looked .... well...we just won't go there! 
It's times like these when it is fun to have "one of each"...a son and a daughter.  I obviously don't have to listen to fights about having to share clothes.  But I do enjoy having a boy and a girl in my life.  Their interests and their personalities never cease to warm me.  They have inadvertantly opened my eyes to the differences in the sexes.  On a daily basis I am reminded of just how body conscious girls can be and how oblivious boys are.  I see first-hand how guys grab an article of clothing off the rack and buy it while girls have to finger every item in the store, try on one of each color, debate over an indecipherable hue difference, and then 'narrow it down' to the "final 15" choices.  Boys can get by on two pair of shorts all summer long while girls need multiple shorts in multiple lengths, colors, and textures.  And so the saga continues well into adulthood.  There is no use trying to figure it out....we are the way we are because that's just the way we are!
(That being said: this girl will not only be purchasing longer shorts this summer but they will be camouflaged as well!)

The Price Is Right

In my constant quest to pull off a high-dollar look without actually spending the money I am forever on the look-out for a bargain. My efforts were rewarded the other day when I finally "allowed" myself to enter into a real, true store. A store where I did not have to mix my khakis with my kiwis. That's right folks, I ventured out into the "Real World." Reality Check: The "Real World" stinks! Are you Serious, people?! You actually expect me to pay $60 bucks for a pair of pants?! Whatever! But wait...is that a Markdown I see?....a double markdown nonetheless?! I'll take one in every color!

Room to Grow

I am sitting on the floor in front of the girls' dressing room at a local department store where I am practicing parental patience breathing techniques. My twelve year old daughter is behind closed doors trying on clothes...need I say more?

We have been here all of 9 minutes and my pulse is excellerating. I fear being rolled out of here atop a gurney...the day I don't have on so much as under-eye concealer but I do have on three-sizes-too-small undies. When asked if I have an existing heart condition I'll feebly raise my palid hand and point to my preteen. When pressed for more details I'll be forced to relive the moments I was forced to endure the irrational illogic that can only spew forth from a girl in a dressing room who wants the way-too-tight/too-small pair of jeans; insisting that it doesn't matter because her yet-to-be-purchased tops will cover them up. After a VERY slow and deep inhale and exhale (and with the deliberate ommission of the oh-so obvious notion that the jeans cost money and will be outgrown BEFORE school even starts) I simply said, "No." (This would be the part where the drama kicked in).

Yes, people, I remember what it was like to be that age...I STILL feel that way! I still want to look like the actresses in the movies; I still try to copy the models in the magazines. However, I have yet to figure out a way to actually afford it all...other than bargain hunting, making do, or doing without. (It is important to note that one would be hard pressed to convince a twelve year old girl to adopt any one of the three above-mentioned options).

It has now officially been an hour and "we" have only been trying on pants.

...6:00 p.m....still here...

Okay...I caved on one pair of skinny jeans, but held firm on the flare legs (I know...I know...it should have been the other way around...), she got her way on a pair of denim capris (but only because they were the last ones and in "her" size), but I did my best to convince her that she really looked better in "the next size up" pair (keeping my fingers crossed on this one).

Myself...well...I was in need of a new black belt and a new brown belt. In true "make-do" fashion I found a reversible belt that served both needs. Now if I can just keep myself from passing up the last notch on the belt it will have been completely worth the trip!

Found It

I found the darn receipt. It was in my briefcase---the SAME briefcase I ransacked in the parking lot---YESTERDAY. It was safely tucked away in the little zippered side pouch---the one designed to hold IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS LIKE RECEIPTS!
The trouble here is not with the briefcase but with ME. You see...I tend to obsess when it comes to bags. Every day I change bags. I change the bag I haul all of my shtuff around to and from work. I change the bag I call my purse. And each time the bags get bigger and heavier. The muscle between my neck and my right shoulder blade is ON FIRE right now because of my compulsive need to lug not only shtuff, but HEAVY shtuff to and fro. Anywho I switched out bags yesterday because I was in much more of a "leather briefcase" kind of mood than an "embroidered canvas tote" sort of mood. Turns out the canvas totes are a lot like the ugly shoes...unforgiving but oh so practical. Had I stayed with the tote I would have simply dropped the receipt into the cluttered abyss where it would have surely been easily retrieved. But, NO, I had to go and screw things up by trying to appear organized and put-together. I even went so far as to utilize the zippered pouch. Never again.

Do You Have Your Receipt?

I save EVERYTHING. And I save it ALL in my purse. You would be amazed at the things I can pull out of my purse. It is somewhat reminiscent of Mary Poppins’ magical carpet bag...you know...the one she pulls a FLOOR LAMP OUT OF?! However, even though I may keep everything I never actually seem to have thething I need when I need it. Take this afternoon’s out of the way excursion to the big city. I had two and a half hours to kill before I had to drop one of my kids off for bible study and I wanted to return an impulse buy I snagged on the fly last week (plus there was a new book I wanted to grab at Barnes & Noble). So I decided to make the trek in the name of multitasking. Seeing as the item I needed to return was located at the store farthest away I went there first. As usual I was "on the clock" -- it was getting close to the end of the day rush hour and I did not want to get stuck in traffic---with, what looked to be a storm brewing. As soon as I parked the car I sent the kids on inside while I rummaged....and dug...and cussed...and searched. NOTHING. This can't be...I purged the trunk and even dared to stick my hand underneath the driver's seat. STILL NOTHING. Determined I went on inside and did my best "I just drove ALL the way in from OUT OF TOWN and I can't seem to find my receipt...but I know it is in here somewhere" routine. This usually does the trick at Wally World but it didn't really work with "The Manager" in the big city. Stubbornly I plopped myself down on the floor and proceeded to take EVERYTHING out of my HUGE purse. There were over five receipts from WALMART, one from Walgreen's, and three from a department store....just NOT from THIS STORE! I also had a baggie of almonds, a bottled water, two bottles of allergy medications, seven different lip glosses (though I never wore any today), ANOTHER PURSE, a book, and countless other odds and ends that I obvious felt compelled to bring in the event that I NEVER RETURNED HOME AGAIN.
Ultimately it came down to the fact that I would not be able to get my money back; I could only receive an in-store credit. NOT! I straightened my posture and looked The Manager in the eye and told her that I Would Be Back Because I Do HAVE THE RECEIPT! Hmmmpppfffffft.

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Have you ever noticed that when your clothes no longer fit you suddenly feel the need to go shopping?! Shopping for things like shoes, purses, jewelry, and hair care products? These are all things that help us to feel and look pretty....okay...sometimes just feeling pretty is enough. Even when we have a strong self-esteem it is frustrating to not look the way we feel. And so, we reach into the back of our closet for "those jeans"...the ones that are so damn comfortable (because they are our current size like it or not). These jeans, for a moment, make us feel good because we can actually fit into something...something not so restricting. When we are constantly aware of our breath, our posture, and the way our inseam feels ... well ... it ain't pretty. And so we put on one of "those tops" that are flowy and long...way below the butt long. We avoid those ridiculous full length mirrors and instead refer to the one the size of our face...the make up mirror. This circle of light allows us to focus on the color of our eyes and the glow in our cheeks. We can check out our earrings and we can pucker our lips. We can cover ourselves in a shower of our favorite perfume and we can curl or straighten our hair to our heart's content. We can store all of the above products in our new purse and we can hold our head high knowing that there is still a part of us that is intact.

Bag It

I snuck out of the house today at noon. I locked myself into my car and drove off with the sunroof open and the radio on. I called my kids to let them know that I was on my way into San Antonio once I knew I was a safe distance away--the point of no return. I really did not know what I was going to do, where I was going to go, or when I would return. I did know that I simply wanted to be alone and I wanted to amble at leisure. I thought briefly about taking in a movie but decided against it since there was not anything I was eager to see. I ended up in the bedding department at TJ Max. My son sleeps in a twin bed with our old king sized comforter draped over it. Since there were some good after Christmas sales going on I decided to get him a proper bed in a bag. I found one that I liked...very cozy and warm. It had "circles" of tan, beige, and chocolate brown all over it. I had a slight hesitation about buying it since I didn't really shop around--knew better than to buy it just to buy it. But, in the end, I figured what the heck...it beats the way-too-big comforter he uses now.

I was actually a little giddy at the prospect of surprising him with a new bedspread--especially since he has finally finished cleaning out his room (this has been a HUGE undertaking...one that has taken up nearly every weekend in November and December!). While he was outside I made his bed and set his pillow atop it all just so. Later, when I heard him enter the house I came out of my room smiling and followed him to his room...anxious to witness his surprise and excitement.
"Get that thing off my bed!" were his first words.
"But, feel it ... it's soooo soft," I tried.
"Yeah, it is soft...but I don't want it in my room."
After that mother-son bonding moment I started to see that the "circles" did look a lot more like polka dots ... especially in the eyes of a thirteen year old boy...a boy that was covered in camo from head to toe...with a pellet gun slung across his body...and dirt everywhere the camo was not.
So his room is not Pottery Barn perfect...
So I'm not Martha Stewart...
So what...

Calling a Spate a Spade

Upon first glance you see two beautiful Kate Spade animal print purses...but, after a careful, second glance you'll notice that only one of them is the real deal. The other purse is actually a Kade Spate purse. Perhaps that is why I was able to purchase it at a thrift store for $1.50. Truth be told I thought I had just made out like a bandit. I handed over my dollar and two quarters and snatched my overlooked treasure out of the sales clerk's hand as quickly as I could and practically ran out the door and into my car--locking the doors for good measure. It wasn't until almost a year and a half later that my eyes noticed what my dyslexic mind had missed.

Another year later found me on the receiving end of my younger sister's cleaning frenzy. As I dug through the black Hefty trash bag I squealed with delight at the Ralph Lauren tote bag and the Nike back pack. I giggled with glee upon spying the brown leather Kenneth Cole belt and the aqua blue Gap shirt. And there, lying at the bottom of the trash bag was the animal print Kate Spade purse. I read the label over and over--I could not believe it: the t and the d were in the correct places! See--it's true: good things come to those who wait...or at least to those who are too cheap to buy name brands!

Making Cents of a Book Fair

I just wrapped up a week's worth of book fair excitement. There is something magical suspended in the air during this special week each school year. I feel very strongly that children should have magical moments in their lives while they are young so that they have lasting memories they can revisit later in life. Being able to garner sneak peeks into the lives of children on a daily basis is one of the neatest gifts I could ever receive. Many parents send their kids off to school and do not know all that goes on in their child's life. I think it is important for this to occur because it is my opinion that kids need to learn how to grow and 'become' in the absence of their parents. That being said, I consciously make an effort to lay low while at work because I want my kids to have some school time without Mom looking over their shoulders. But that is not always easy to do considering the fact that I work at their school. But, because I work at an elementary school I am privy to all kinds of interesting childhood moments.

One day last week I had a second grader approach me at the cashier's desk while clutching tightly to a ziplock baggie that was filled with coins. "I just want to know if I have enough cents," he explained. Boy, don't we all, I thought to myself. Even though I knew that I certainly didn't have enough sense to do many of the things I attempt on a daily basis, I patiently counted out his coins. So many kids came into the library skipping and left shouting "I got a book!" Many others strategically divided their loot so that they could purchase a book for a sibling. Still others kept buying until the last penny was spent. I did have one fourth grade boy ask me if he could use a credit card because he knew his mom's credit card number along with it's expiration date-OMG!

I spent a large portion of each day desperately trying to explain the concept that a five dollar bill would not be enough to purchase a $4.99 book because of little word called "tax." I guess I didn't do that good of a job because at the end of the week I owed Scholastic close to $50.00 for all of the students who were short on change!

I overhead many parents bargaining with their kids saying things like, "...you can get these two, but you have to put that one back." Or "...well...how about if you just don't get an allowance this month?" Or "...You already have 6 diaries at home that you haven't even written in...you don't need another one...pick out a book with WORDS in it." Most parents want to expose their children to all forms of literature. They want to foster a love of reading. They are strapped for cash but always find a way.

Both of my kids read in the car the entire way home. My son spouted out facts and statistics and my daughter stayed up late reading and couldn't wait to share with me the details the next morning. I learned of a student who spent the night we were open late for Family Night drawing sketches after reading his new drawing book. I saw kids reading their new books while waiting in the bus line and at the cafeteria table during lunch. I watched normally rowdy boys sitting quietly on the floor hunched over a cool book. I witnessed friends giggling over some funny pictures, and ultimately ended up buying the same books. Hearing all of the ooohs and ahhhhs this past week was better than any movie soundtrack. It made all of the extra hours and frenetic activity completely worth it.

I hope that over this three-day weekend many kids will fall into a good book and get hooked on reading!

Just Right

Once upon a time there were 3 bears...sound familiar? Well I felt like I was living out this fairy tale as I was shopping for shoes. Everything was either a little too big, a little too small, a little too expensive...nothing was ever just right. Sometimes an 8 fit...other times a 9 1/2 fit...what is a bargain hunter to do? You see, I am extremely intimidated by the "maul" and all of its perfect displays and pricey items. I feel uncomfortable knowing that everyone else can afford the goods. For one reason or another I always feel like I snuck into a club and am trying to take it all in before being found out.

That is why I shop the strip malls...the outlets...the Marshalls of the fashion world. I feel comfortable among the disarray. I feel like a card carrying club member in these stores. In a way I feel like I am rescuing the clothes that just didn't make the "mall cut." Here is where I finally stumble upon Goldilock's cottage. And if I rummage through it long enough I often find something just right for me.

a la cart

Yesterday, while digging through the racks beneath a sign that reads: "Bienvenido a un mundo de ahorros" (translated as "Welcome to a world of savings") my jaw still drops and my face still contorts when I flip the tag and read that "they" want $19.99 for a shirt. Granted, in the "real world" (translated as "money is not an issue and off brands are not even an option...GAWD, can you even eeemadgine it?!") the original price tag would have read $79.99. Am I cheap? I don't think so. I know a good thing when I see it...I just want to have a lot of good things. Therefore I focus on quantity AND quality. And so, in order to do this, I must shop in un mundo de ahorros. This means shopping with the masses. This means pushing a blue plastic shopping cart (strip away the blue pastic and it is, in fact, a GROCERY cart) that has a six foot pole attached to its front..hell all it needs is a small, fluorescent orange triangular flag at it's top, a few streamers coming out of the cart's wheels and...BAM!...let's race!) This makes it extremely difficult to discover a hidden gem before any of the other three hundred and ninety five shoppers crammed in the store with you do. It also makes it hard to make a mad dash out of the store in an effort to pull a once over on the cop who guards the door. Of course, even if you did rob el mundo you couldn't wear your loot...unless you like those damn plastic theft deterrants that somehow never sound off when all of the alleged shoplifting occurs, but always forces the sensors to scream when I walk out of the doors even though I actually paid for my two-season's ago clothes. That, or else the clerk conveniently forgot to use her secret magical sensor slider thingy while swiping my clothes. It's funny, really, how I now shop for my clothes with a grocery cart but buy my groceries using soft, canvas totes.
Let's face it...I'm a Ross Dress For Less Girl in a La Cantera World.

Less is More

What a day! I spent the entire day with my daughter and my mother. We are all very close and yet very rarely do we take the time to spend the time. Today I am glad that we did if for no one else than for my daughter. She has had a rough string of days of late and to see her bouncing with excitement and sheer bliss meant so much to me. She is always asking for a "girl's day" but her mother is always playing catch up at home (note to self: you'll never catch up).

My mother has been wanting to go shopping with her granddaughter and to have her spend the night and today was "the day." My daughter did not know about these plans until late last night. When I told her she began shrieking and jumping up and down. The best part was when she kept saying, "I'm so excited! I'm so excited!" (Although when she said it it sounded more like one long word: I'msoexcited!...and it was said with a smile so wide it made me wishing I were a kid again).

The first thing we did after picking up my mom, Grandma, was to park at one end of her town's Main Street and shop hop. We oooohed and ahhhhhed at all of the way too expensive items and touched everything we could. As soon as one of the three of us were on opposite ends of the store one of us would call over to the others to "come see!" For the most part we had the stores to ourselves as it was a "work day" (hee hee). After all of four stores we were hungry! We drove over to a Chinese Restaurant and each had a plate of sesame chicken; our favorite! We had to drive back to Mom's to put all of our leftovers in her fridge before heading off to S.A. My daughter kept hinting that she wanted a frappacino, "..since it's such a special day you know." I'm not real keen on getting a habit like this started (I didn't even start drinking coffee until I was close to 30). However, something deep within tells me that she is not going to let something as trivial as my rules keep her from doing what she wants (pray for me now). And so, in the end, I agreed and we ended our night at Starbucks (I have close to 10 gift cards from students) sipping caramel frappacinos (my first). We are such social losers that Mom and I had to call my sister and my sister-in-law to get coached on what and how to order. When we requested that our drinks be caffeine free we were told that they were all out of decaf. WHAT? We had to wait 10 minutes before they could "mix it up" for us. I'm telling you...stick around with this blog and you will learn that these sort of "things" happen ALL THE TIME to myself and my family.

All in all our stops in San Antonio included Justice for Girls, Ross Dress for Less, Target, and Barnes & Noble/Starbucks. We walked into Justice (my daughter's favorite place to look) and right away she wanted the entire outfit on display. For those of you without young kids, a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a single pair of tennis shoes does not at "outfit" make. Kids these days must wear layers of clothes thus translated as: $$$. One must have the coordinating headband, shoes, bangles, earrings, tote bag, leggings, mini skirt, tank top, t-shirt, and jacket. Please keep in mind that these kids grow hourly. My mother and I did what we thought best: we stood my daughter in front of the mannequin and rattled off the price of every single item...out loud. When the total came to $90.00 FOR 1 OUTFIT we gave her the look that includes the raised eyebrows and the tight-lipped smile with a slight downward nod of the head. She got the message and we walked over to Ross Dress for Less.

Today was truly her lucky day because EVERYTHING my daughter tried on not only fit but looked fantastic on her. Earlier in the morning I had prepared her for the fact that just because we were going "shopping" didn't necessarily mean we were going to be "buying." But when you're hot you're hot! The little stinker ended up with an entire new wardrobe, probably close to 11 outfits (that are all interchangeable), and we only went $35 dollars over the cost of the single outfit at Justice! She even walked out of Ross with 4 pairs of shoes! "Train a child in the way he should go..." Amen!

I had fun waiting for my daughter to come out of the dressing room each time she tried on a new outfit. Usually I am in the room with her, but this time Grandma and I sat in the room opposite her's and were her captive audience. We could see her ankles only but knew she was happy by the bounces, twists, and pivots.

We giggled and we held hands. We hugged and we tugged. But mostly we shared time and love. I am very grateful that I have a daughter to experience these moments with...and I do appreciate that they are just that...moments. I know to hold them close because they may not happen has often as I would like...but then again...maybe they will.

I did not get home until after midnight and when I called to let everyone know I was home safe and sound Mom told me that she and her granddaughter were probably going to stay up one more hour. They were giving each other massages and telling stories. My daughter told me, "Mom...I am SO EXCITED!"

Maybe that is why I am not even sleepy now at 1:57 a.m. I, too, am so excited that my mom is able to spend some time with my daughter and my daughter is able to spend time with her grandmother. There is nothing that makes me happier than knowing that my kids are happy. When I walked in the door of my house a little after midnight all I could see was the blue flicker of our television. My son's head was craning over the back of the chair searching for me. "I've been waiting for you to get home" were his first words to me.

My family may be dressed for less but my heart runneth over.

Shopping With Kids...Not Recommended

What has happened to me? I am sitting on my bed drinking a beer in a floor length, zippered, velour robe (and that’s only because my family is home). I do not want anything touching me. I took off all of my jewelry; including my earrings (and I always wear jewelry). I even went so far as to take off my favorite raspberry toenail polish. My face is washed and my hair is clean. So why am I so desperate to cleanse myself and rid myself of … well…myself? I’ll tell you why. I went to San Antonio with my children today. For you mothers out there that sentence should pretty much sum it all up, but for those without children, or heaven forbid, those of you with perfect children let me “take you there.”

It all started with a 9:45 doctor’s appointment for my son. As simple as that may sound it wasn’t (as you’ll come to find out reading my blog nothing in my life is simple). To start things off I had to bring my daughter along (read: sibling rivalry…make that brother/sister rivalry). To complicate things (on a double standard level) my husband was not going to be home (although he is off from work today)…therefore he would “not be available” to watch our daughter. He made it very clear that since he was “on vacation” he needed to go into town to take care of some business (clothes and tool shopping). Thus the first pebble was released into my shoe. Seeing as I am “on vacation” too I needed to take care of some business too (like taking our son to the pediatric cardiologist). A few echocardiograms and dopplar sonograms later I decided to make the most out of our gas tank and knock out some shopping.

This did not bode well with the kids…my son especially. I don’t blame them, but geez louise…if I didn’t go then who knew when my “next chance” would be? I needed to pick up a birthday present and I quite simply just wanted to know that “everything was still there.” I looked at several purses and started to openly recognize this as a sign I was crying out for help (I have ENOUGH bags already!). I had to put up with grunts and groans and constant whispers of “…it’s time to go now…it’s time to go now…” Every time I turned around I bumped into one of them. They were practically stepping on me. All their life I had taught them to “stay close.” Today I was given the evil eye by store employees and other shoppers (sans kids) as I continually yelled at my kids to “Go Away!” In all honesty I wanted them far far away because I wanted to fondle merchandise without anyone else’s comments. I wanted to make a decision without a spy or tattletale. I wanted to be a grown up.

Looking back I should have gone straight home after the doctor’s appointment (that’s why I had originally scheduled it so darn early in the morning in the first place!). It’s just that while my husband can come and go and do what needs to be done on a whim I am never able to. Yes, I’m jealous. Yes, I’m pissed. Yes, I’m already planning my getaway…and when I do…I already have the perfect purse to take me there!