Family Vacation Extravaganza!

My baby sister called me a year ago to tell me some thrilling news but her voice didn’t hold the excitement I felt it should have. A couple from their church invited my sister and her pastor husband (whose rapper name is Big Sexy but that’s not part of this story) on a two week cruise in the Mediterranean with 3-day stops in Venice and Paris. A DREAM vacation! I am pretty sure I was WAY more excited than she was about the cruise! I have taught Renaissance history… there are about 27 million places, buildings and works of art that I would kill to see. Well, maybe not kill, but close. Maim. Yeah. Maim.

My baby sister lamented, “I don’t think we should go because then we couldn’t come home to Arizona for Christmas next year.” I laughed loudly in her ear. A three week trip to Europe or Christmas with the cousins??? Seemed like a no-brainer to me. I felt like asking, “Are you dumb?” but I’m the nice sister, so I refrained. Then I remembered that we were going to Canada for Christmas and wouldn’t even be in Arizona. That encouraged her just a tad to consider the magnificent adventure at her finger tips.

The fervor had not returned in her voice. Still sounding forlorn she asked, “What would we do with the kids for three weeks?” HELLO!? You live in Maui. I WILL COME! Hence yesterday’s blog about Hana, the beach chair, returning joy and cat barf. So they went.

Knowing that we would be staying in my sister’s home, which is the parsonage twelve steps away from the church they pastor, (which consequently used to be the offices for a sugar cane plantation 50 or so years ago) I began to have visions of our own Crosby Family Vacation Extravaganza!  Whooo HOooooo! With some cousins thrown in! Party like it’s 1999.

Mr. Wallet and I discussed the opportunity and we enthusiastically presented it to the kids one night at dinner. Here is how it went down:

Me: (Can’t stop smiling!) Your Auntie and Uncle are going on a trip next November and have asked us to go over and take care of your cousins for two weeks. So we are all going to go and have a blast in Maui together!

(No one cheered.) (Maybe they didn’t hear me?)

Our 17 year old son: I don’t want to go. It is my last state band competition for high school.

(Again, I am weighing the alternatives: band or Maui?) (No brainer.)

Me: We could go the last two weeks so you could do the state competition and then go.

Our 17 year old son: I don’t want to go then either. That would mean I would have to have my 18th birthday in Maui.

(And the problem is?????) (I am pretty sure my mouth was hanging open.) (Well, that just saved us $600!)

Our 19 year old son: Yeah, I don’t want to go either. It would be hard for me to get my jobs covered and I’m driving bus for the homeless on Sundays.

(Since when did ministry come before self indulgence?) (KIDDING!) (Another $600 saved!)

The 12 year old Colombian princess: Do I get to go? 

(Didn’t I say FAMILY vacation?)

YES!!!! Her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face. That’s my girl.

THEN a few months into the planning, Mr. Wallet counted his vacation days and decided he was going to save another $600 and stay home. What the heck? How can all these men be related to me? I live for vacations! My sons had free food, lodging and flights to Maui but turned them down. I just don’t get it. I am pretty sure when they are 40 they will regret the foolish decisions of their youth.

You guessed it… GIRLS TRIP! Nora and I are having a blast! She hasn’t flown on a BIG plane since she came to America six years ago, so of course she had to tell me all about them…. trays that come down out of the seat for your table… tiny bathrooms… free nuts! So many things to look forward to!

Oh, you know I’m posting pictures of facebook, snapchat and instagram and tagging my sons. BEST GIRLS TRIP EVER!

Living Room Make-Over…. TA DA!

We painted our entry, front room and stairwell a brown-paper-bag color nine-and-a-half years ago.  I figured out I didn’t like the poopy color before it was dry….. but there it hung for almost ten years. I was swayed by popular color choices… earthy tones and textures… that I never really liked.  They were just IN. I’m not sure why being IN was a concern for me… it’s never been before. It was a dumb decision, but it is now in my past.

For more than five years I have dreamed of having a light turquoise room in our home for my own eye candy privilege. There’s something delicious about turquoise. To say that I love turquoise would be an understatement. Turquoise is the color of the ocean and Lake Tahoe and Greece and Colombia… all of my favorite places. Those who know how to decorate and coordinate have cautioned me that it could look like a little boy’s room… and quite frankly I don’t care. I just love turquoise. So there.

2014 was a hard year for me. I have not fully recovered from the March 2013 car accident and then my big slip-in-the-mud-cut-my-knee-open episode in October slowed me down even more. Constant low-grade pain wears on you! I didn’t do a creative thing in all of 2014… and creativity makes me happy. I needed some happy. So, in the dark of the night, when Mr. Wallet had his belly full of Mexican food and he was half asleep, I asked if we could paint the living room. He said YES! What he didn’t realize was that “Paint the Living Room” = “Get New Furniture and Wall Decore and Get Rid of EVERYTHING in the Living Room”.  Heh heh heh….and the scheming preparedness began.

The scouring of magazines commenced. The collection of paint cards grew. The measuring of furniture and walls happened. And then Mr. Wallet escorted me to the paint department of Lowe’s.  Be still my turquoise-loving heart. Painting began.

Second-hand furniture shopping began for end tables. Then painting furniture commenced.

A fabric painting tutorial was watched and then BAM, I was painting fabric like a pro.… an unskilled, untrained pro.

And more projects were found and purchased at Goodwill.

The entryway was completed first. I was still in hot pursuit of a white couch for $25… well, not exactly but real close. Mr. Wallet likes a good deal.  A REALLLLL good deal.

Finally, last night, the white couch from my dreams appeared in my turquoise living room and all is well in my world. Merry Caribbean Christmas to me!

The maps behind the French doors are my favorite. Their order, however, caused some stress for my 10-year-old nephew as they are not all on the same scale and they are definitely NOT in the correct places. He stood there in shock and disgust….”Auntie Linda, Mexico is NOT under England. And the Philippines are WAY too big and shouldn’t be at the top.” His tone implied, “I thought you were a teacher!” I tried to explain that I picked the maps for COLOR… I like turquoise, remember! And I randomly placed them… because I had to do it from the backside. I did make sure the important places are all accounted for: Canada, USA, Colombia, Maui, Greece and the Mediterranean Sea.

Every morning I descend the stairs and I smile. Thank you, Mr. Wallet.

Ten-Year-Old Money Management

“Mom, my size eight underwear is too tight.  Can we please get me some more?”  Of course this was only uttered in complete isolation from her brothers.  Of course.  She is mortified if I say the word “bra” out loud whether we are alone or not.  It makes me want to work “bra” into every conversation.  Which I am capable of doing, but I’m trying to be the nice mom (in a white bra.)

So off to ROSS we went.  Dress for less.  That’s my idea of a good time.  And Mr. Wallet’s too.  Straight to the back of the store to the girls department we hightailed and bee-lined to the clearance section.  There is ALWAYS underwear on clearance, which I don’t really understand because they don’t go out of season. Ever.  (Well, except for a season in my teenage son’s life when he wore bathing suits for three months…. but I digress.)

BINGO!  Five multi packs to choose from.  All the right size.  All were five pair for $3.  All were cute colors.  All were bikini (which is apparently highly importante for the Colombiana!)  (When she has her first love in college, and he finds this blog, she’s gonna kill me… but that is so far off, I shall continue.)  I wanted to yell, “Sweet Jesus! We scored in the clearance section, folks!” but I did not, only because I noticed something was amiss on my daughter’s face.  She was not as exhilarated as I was with the undies find.  After questioning her dislike for my super saver bargain, she explained that the sudsy, mini yellow Chihuahua in the bathtub pictured on the first pair of panties in the multi pack was no bueno! I countered with an explanation that she could have five pair for $3 and wear the Chihuahua or she could stay snug in her size 8s.  The little doggie grew on her, as I knew he would.  Plus out of the five pair only ONE had the doggie!  The rest were boring… albeit in cute colors.

She was not done. Oh no. The bubbly Chihuahua was not going down without a fight. Turning to the non-sale section, she pointed to some cute sets of pink undies with turquoise lace gracing the top. Seriously, the ones she picked looked like they were strays from the racy lingerie section of the ladies department.  Why do they even make little girls underwear resemble Victoria’s Secret garb? Pointing out the $6 price tag for TWO pair, I asked her how many doggie panties we could buy for six dollars.  She thought for a moment and answered correctly, mumbling defeat, “ten.”

I explained that it is not a wise use of our money to buy two pair of fancy duds when ten serviceable ones would do.  I suggested that if she really wanted the lacy ones, she could use her own hard-earned money. (Insert eye roll here.) Utterly ridiculous! She would not pay $6 for two pair, even though she wanted me to. No way! She even made a little snorting noise in disgust.

And the underwear lesson went down in the history book as a frugal find but a fashion failure. Egads… a bathing Chihuahua… can you even imagine?!? Disgraceful!

 

Chicken Coop Construction

Third time’s a charm, right?  I hope so!  This is our third attempt at raising chickens.  The other two tries were highly successful and with each adventure we learn a little more.  Nov. 25th, Nora’s Gotcha Day, we bought some new chickies.  Darling little fluffy peepers…. soon turned into noisy, smelly growing birds.  But we love them.  Truly.  From that day, I knew I had approximately three weeks to get a coop built.  Time got away from me… and I ended up purchasing a bigger plastic storage tub to make my planning/collecting/building time last a tad bit longer.

My sweet supportive husband did not want chickens.  At all.  He didn’t even care if we would eventually get two dozen eggs a week.  Nope.  He is scarred from having to clean out maggoty chicken poop a long long time ago in a galaxy far far away.  It’s okay.  If I were born in a different era, I’m sure I would have fit right in with Little House on the Prairie.  Oh to have a free range flock!  I dream of wearing fashionable rubber boots and collecting eggs in a hand-woven basket from my huge coop at the back of the grassy property.  But no.  I’m in Phoenix.  In an HOA, nonetheless.  But it’s all good.

Being non-supportive, Mr. Wallet didn’t feel the need to “invest” in chicken coop construction.  Go figure!  The one I would love to build comes in a tidy box with a shiny picture on the front of a two story coop with a run, shutters, metal roof and wood paneling that I admire with ogling eyes.  For a mere $249, it could be gracing my backyard!  Trying to keep peace on the farmstead, I have been pouring over Craigslist, an online garage sale…. particularly the FREE section.  She shoots, she scores!  I found a 3’x3’x3′ wooden shipping crate!  PERFECT!  I did talk my sweet supportive husband into dumpster diving with me in the next neighborhood where new homes are being built.  We totally scored some 4×6 treated beams and a bunch of other useful pieces of wood.

Yesterday was spent removing nails, measuring, sawing and praying.  Today I called my two nephews and niece over from across the street to help me and three of my kids get the legs on this baby.  We should have video taped the whole ordeal.  They are ALL sarcastic and funny and loud.  I was explaining the procedure, “Two of you need to lift the crate,” before I could breathe my eldest nephew named his sister and cousin for that job.  Hardy har har.  The four remaining cousins were to hold legs in place while I screwed it all together.  They were all in place but talking so loudly I finally pulled the trigger on the drill and yelled something …. nice… like “Please use your inside voices” or some other such nonsense.  They all laughed.  In my face.  Anyway, we did get the coop duty done.  Tomorrow is front door construction and heat-lamp hole drilling.

The girls are getting all feathered out already!  HURRY!

Guess who’s graduating??!!??

Yes, my first baby girl!  Larisa!  Distinctly I remember the day I took her to Walmart and had this photo shoot done.  We lived near Edmonton, Alberta… where the weather can be less than congenial at times.  And Larisa’s blonde hair could be limp in minutes… so I brought the curling iron and hairspray INTO Walmart for final touches.  I found an outlet in the middle of the children’s clothing section and she sat in the cart while I fixed the golden curls to perfection.  She posed up a storm…. like a true beauty queen.  I didn’t even do any coaching… she had the moves even at two year old! 

When Daddy got home that night, for some reason I decided to tape record Larisa telling Daddy about the Walmart photo shoot.  We still have it.  It is PRECIOUS!  Her little scratchy voice saying, “Affer Mommy do the curlen iron in Wamart, da laby take my pichers. Den I went like dis.. and like dis… and like dis….” And she re-enacted the entire posing scene.  A cherished family memory for us.

A week later when we took Daddy into Walmart to help us choose the three photos that were included in the cheapest package…. he stared at each one of the 15… then uttered the unthinkable words for Mr. Wallet, “We will take them all.”  Unbelievable.

We may have a re-enactment of that extravagant purchase when Larisa’s senior pictures arrive!!!  Please stand by.