Every year I kvetch about the preparations for my son’s birthday and how I’m not going to go crazy with it all and EVERY YEAR I IGNORE MY OWN ADVICE. (Warning: overuse of the CAPS LOCK button ahead.)
It’s like I get amnesia every March when I start thinking about the birthday planning. Or maybe it’s that the relatives start asking me in November what I’m doing for the upcoming festivities in APRIL and I can’t help but get into hysterics. Remember? I have lots of relatives, none of which who live here.
This year, though, because of my frugalness, and because he’s only going to be THREE, I vowed to tone it down a bit.
Meaning of course, instead of ordering invites from my favorite website, I handwrote all THIRTY invites. (It’s called the “No Child Left Out of Birthday Parties Act” that our preschool class rigidly enforced. I was all for it until my hand ached so bad I had to ice it the next day. And realized it basically threw my budget out the window)
Thank you to @Uniball_USA for the awesome pen used to handwrite all invitations.
I did, however, come up with a brilliant idea for the aforementioned preschool class wherein all the moms pitched in $10 to avoid spending a ridiculous amount of money to buy 16 separate birthday presents (he has 14 friends outside of his class, what can I say?). This not only saved a huge headache from gift shopping, but it also allowed me to avoid getting my son a birthday present.
There, I said it. Everyone else’s kid got a box of Magnatiles, and we, cheap frugal parents that we are, are going to give him his old Hanukah presents that I forgot to get out of the basement closet in December. And maybe a $20 Little Tikes swing he HAD TO HAVE out of the new catalog.
He’ll never know what he missed out on until he can read this post.
I also decided to schedule his birthday party from the hours of 4-6 pm. This way, I figure, I can really cut down on the amount of food (food= MONEY) the adults will eat at the party. Because we all know how much pizza I we all can scarf down during those “lunch time” parties. (At 11 o’clock I can eat at least 4 pieces, hello!? They’re kiddie size.)
I figure those adults who want to join the kids eating dinner at 5 pm will really stand out. It just screams “I’m on kiddie time” if you can force your body to eat that early. I’m not above it (I usually start getting hungry around 4), but I’m thinking some others won’t admit that.
As far as party favors, go, though, I couldn’t totally skimp. But instead of ordering $100 worth of tchotke from Oriental Trading Company, I found these really cheap cute cups and plates from everyone’s favorite store, Party City. And because I gave them my email address, I got $5 off my total bill. And probably sold my soul to the devil.
I’m guessing for $1.99 a pop these aren’t BPA and lead-free. The kids will live.
This has gotta be the cheapest most hassle-free and fun birthday yet. At least for the neurotic Jewish mother living in a posh neighborhood trying not to look like a cheapskate set.
There’s only so many hours in my day, and only so many funds in my bank account to pay for babysitters. I have to use my free time efficiently and effectively. Unfortunately, I’m finding this means I’m spending more time shuttling between the grocery, dry cleaners, and car wash and less time doing what I set out to do when I quit my job: volunteering.
The recession has impaired not only my shopping budget, but my ability to give of my time and self to others.
I’m a selfishista. A cheapista. A narcissista. I can’t get past paying the babysitter to stay a few more hours so I can do something besides accomplishing my bare bones needs.
When I stopped work, I made a pact with myself to give back to the community considering my new ”lady of leisure” status. I was elected to a local board, joined my Temple’s membership community, and got involved with my son’s preschool. But while I thought that all this volunteering would just cost me time, I’m found myself adding more and more babysitter hours to fulfill all my non-paid commitments.
The belt tightening around my house didn’t necessarily mean I had to get rid of my babysitter altogether (hello, I can be cheap, but I still need my sanity), but it does mean that I have to make tough choices. And the grocery, even though I loathe it, will win every time.
The selfishista has arrived, and unfortunately, volunteering is going to take a hit. Anyone else out there cutting back on the unpaid commitments too?
[Begin blog pimping]
I don’t usually take freebies given to me through this blog, but in this crap economy, if something passes my way, and I know my son will absolutely enjoy it, I’ll try it out.
We love to read in our house, and when Nick Katsoris contacted me about his newest book in the Loukoumi collection, Loukoumi’s Good Deeds, I had to bite. I met Nick about two years ago and loved his book, Growing Up With Loukoumi. In his newest book, Loukoumi the lamb learns how to do nice things for other people. Besides having a great concept at the heart of the book, my son wants to read it over and over and over.
We also love to watch TV and when I got wind of an Elmo DVD product review I was like, “hello! I’m here!” The generous folks at Genius Products sent me a copy of a new Elmo DVD, “Elmo Loves You.” I actually think I liked it more than my son (coulda been that guest appearance by REM), but we all (me) appreciated the cuddly-time it promoted with my little man.
Anyway, Nick and the folks at Genius Products were kind enough to offer up a giveaway for their products on my blog. Leave a comment and you could win the book or DVD!
[End blog pimping]
Tagged as:
Elmo,
Nick Katsoris
I have this thing about my hair. I always change my mind about what kind of style I want. Currently, I’m in the midst of wanting my hair to be super long.
I actually once had really long hair. With bangs! (collective gasp begin now)
I’m fully blaming “new mom brain” for this look.
A few cuts later and it was the Katie Holmes bob-o-rama of 2007
I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.
Which brings me to 2009 or, Operation: Growing It Out. Otherwise known as a painful ordeal where I partially revist “The Rachel” cut. Not on purpose.
Had I known I was going to go back in time with my hairstyle I WOULD HAVE NEVER CUT MY HAIR!
Of course, when I found out this week that Katie went from bob to bombshell overnight with magical hair extensions I went loony. Now I only have one mission in mind: Must Look Like Holmes Again.
It’s just not fair that us frugal peons have to do the grow out the old-fashioned way.
I know PunditMom and ChickyChickyBaby are also leading the quest for long hair. Are you? Let’s all share photos of our progress. We can live in grow-out misery together.
Until then, I’m wearing my hair back and in headbands daily.
Sometimes I feel like this frugal thing is making me a lonely lame-ass.
“Want to go out to dinner tomorrow night with the kids?”
“Uhm, only if it’s Man Jo Vin.” (Where everything is under $3. And greasy)
“Want to make a lunch date?”
“Want to come here and eat?”
“How about a shopping excursion?”
“I’ll come watch you.”
As if motherhood is hard enough, now I feel guilty making plans that involve money. And we all know that when it’s nice out on a Tuesday morning there’s no better way to kill time than to sit at Starbucks with a friend and watch your kids eat their scones and make a mess on somebody else’s floor. And then make a fast getaway before all the employees realize it’s your hellions who’ve ruined their floor.
There are only so many times a bag lunch will cut it.
In fact, when I busted out the turkey slices, cheese and clementine today at the zoo, all I got from my son was, “I want to eat out somewhere.”
It’s all I can do to not grab him by the arm and say, “do you know how lucky you are to be able to eat overpriced organic no preservative turkey?!”
He doesn’t yet, but I know that even though we’re eating out less, we’re very lucky. We have our jobs, our health, and the ability to spend $44 on one bag of groceries at Whole Foods that we’ll actually eat and not totally flip out. Yet.
There are two things I’ve been thinking about lately. First, I think my last post about quitting one’s job may have been a little bit bullish. The smart and sassy Kim brought my bullish-ness to my attention when she remembered something I said a long time ago – that re-entry into the workforce wouldn’t be an issue for me because of my fabulous part-time arrangement. She thought I had it all figured out. I think basically I sound like a big asshat. (Truth be told, my word du jour is “daft prick” but I’ll save that discussion for another day.)
Did I really mean to be so confident about my chances of re-entry? Because I didn’t. I guess I didn’t forsee the whole part-time work thing not working out the way I planned and that I’d be getting more itchy over time for some real work. And yes, I admit it. I’m now really itchy for more work and sort of feeling more unsure about my possibilities than ever.
Which brings me to dinner parties. (Yes, these two topics are related, they really are.)
Whenever I go to a dinner party for my husband’s work I always get a case of the insecurities. He works with so many smart, engaging and interesting people, that I’m always worried about how it’s going to look when I answer the question,
So, do you work?
Not that they care, nor do I really care what they think. But I really wasn’t in the mood to discuss the mommy wars with the really smart lawyers around the room.
So imagine my delight when another SAHM at the dinner party sat right across the table from me on the other side of a really smart lawyer. She was older, wiser, had somehow gotten her kids into private school. Wow, I thought, I hit the dinner party jackpot.
But all we ended up talking about was potty training, after school activities, and playgroups. I kept trying to include the really smart lawyer to my left involved in the discussion, but really, what 60-year-old man wants to engage with two neurotic Jewish moms?
Any bullish feeling I had about myself evaporated at the table last night just like that chocolate mousse cake off my plate (my g-d was it good.) I left wishing I had more to add to the conversation than my thoughts about the Ferber method.
There’s always the next party, I guess. Either that, or I’m going to have to become a really good liar.
