Mascara Madness

My momma always said that I was a natural beauty.  I needed no makeup to enhance my face.  Well, mothers are supposed to say things like that, and for self esteem reasons, I’m glad she did.  I don’t wear much makeup, I am just lazy about it.  I don’t make the time to paint my face unless there is a very special occasion to attend (which is never due to having 5 children). So needless to say, my version of putting on a face is mascara, and some foundation on those little red areas that have appeared in middle age.

My problem with makeup is that I rarely remember to take it off before heading to bed.  Have you ever done that? It really stinks to awaken and find that half of my face is still on the pillow, and the other half is a gooey mess of smeared blackness on gloppy lashes making me resemble a “Walker”.

There are a ton of products out there that claim to be the best at removing your mascara. Everything from Maybeline to Vaseline, but I have a way that doesn’t cost you anything extra. WATER. Plain and simple. It really works!  Here’s how:

• Turn on the warm water from your favorite sink
• Lean over sink and get your hands wet
• With your thumbs and index fingers, gently rub back and forth on upper lashes
• Re-wet your fingers often and repeat until you see no more mascara on fingers
• Do the same on bottom lashes
• Smile at your beautiful naked face in the mirror

You aren’t going to buy a new car with the money you save from this little tip, but every penny counts in my house!

Water They Do Without Me

 

For the love of cheese, flush the deuce down.

Why is it that my children feel it necessary to override the warm apple pie scented candle in the living room with the scent of swamp butt in the bathroom?  How does one forget to flush all of that down? Doesn’t their nose clue them in to that conditioned response that was taught so long ago?  Didn’t a famous little tiger on PBS teach them to “flush and wash and be on your way!” ?

I wish I could sit here and solely blame them for this gross habit of abandoning a full toilet, but I’m afraid the only person I have to blame is myself.  You see, I really like to save water. Water is my friend and should be yours too. He’s nice. He hydrates me; cleans me.  It is a sweet relationship we have and I don’t want him to run out.  So much water is wasted washing hands, brushing teeth, showering, watering plants, etc. I’m just addressing the commode today.

Now, don’t judge me right away.  Listen for just a moment before you make up your mind.  If you have multiple children, you understand the enormopotomus amount of water that a family goes through in a day. If you have an older toilet like me, flushing merely once uses 3 gallons of that glorious H2O. Newer models use approximately 1.5 gallons per flush.  Four of my five children are able to use the toilet, AND I have a husband. If we all go to the bathroom once in a day (not the baby) that is a whopping 18 gallons of water dashing down the drain. Third grade math is as far as I go.  But we don’t go just once, we go several times per day. I prefer not to do any more math. It’s a crap-load of water guys. The three year old probably goes potty or tries to go potty 17 times a day. He used to flush every time, regardless if he peed or not.  It was a great habit in theory, but not if you are water conscious like me.  I had to do something.

Nowadays, if we are heading out the door to go shopping,  or to an event, or to McDonald’s, I highly encourage everyone to visit the porcelain god and not flush until the last person has relieved himself.  As long as it’s #1, there is no need to have a clean bowl every time if you are family. We also try to only flush a few times during the day if we are home. We save so much water these days and I can feel like we are helping to make a difference.  I would like to mention that we have told our children to flush when visiting other peoples’ houses or businesses. I don’t want any hate mail or bags of doo-doo on my front porch for raising animals.  Meanwhile, I just grit my teeth and shout out a reminder to the stinkpot who didn’t flush after smelling up the bathroom, and remind myself that it’s my fault, and I can live with that.  Would you ever try this?

Fabricated Fabric

Deep down, I would love to rock my booty in a pair of designer bedazzled jeans.  It would be a nice switch from the ragged yoga pants I usually wear. I just can’t wrap my head around the prices of popular brand names these days. Sheesh, I say “these days” like I’m 80 years old, but 40 is pretty close.

For instance, take a pair of True Religion super skinny jeans for women. Stores want $278.00 for one pair!  Or Miss Me Jeans for $99.50! It’s ridiculous.

I could fill an entire shopping cart at Aldi’s grocery store, top and undercarriage, for what it would take to buy a pair of fashionable  jeans.

When I was a freshman in high school, Guess was the brand name of choice for boys and girls jeans. We were a thrifty family of 4 and lucky to wear blue jeans to school.  Like most teenage girls, I wanted to fit in and look like everyone else, so I went to the Goodwill with my mom and started my search for a used pair of Guess  jeans. It didn’t matter if it was 3 sizes too small or a mens jean size 44. If it had that upside down triangle emblem on the back right pocket, I was in business.  I just needed to find any pair of Guess jeans so that I could cut out the brand name with my fabric scissors, and hand stitch it to my nominal ass.  My search was successful in that I found a pair of mens jeans with a mint condition Guess patch on the rear.

The following day, according to herd culture, I looked cool like everyone else and strutted myself down the hall to Economics class with my secretly fake jeans.  You can do this too! It takes time to go through rows of jeans in the resale shops, or bins of pants at rummage sales, but worth it if you’d like to be in fashion.  Let me know what you think, or if you’ve tried this trick!

 

Don’t Smell My Head

“WE NEED TO GO NOW, NOW, NOW!”

I knew for certain, in my mind, that I had set the alarm on my cracked and ancient iPhone to 6:45 a.m.  On any other morning, it would not have been a big deal to sleep in an extra 15 minutes. This is not one of those mornings. Today I need to get 4 school-aged kids to 4 different schools, and a baby to an appointment to see the pediatrician shortly after 8:00 a.m. Normally, my husband would be the taxi driver and I the Sous-Chef and morning drill sergeant,  but he has an earlier obligation today.

PANIC!

I really need a shower, but the spare minutes are soaked into my still warm pillow. Breakfast consists of peanut butter toast (thank you to whomever invented the 4-slice toaster) and milk.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ( peanut butter was already out, right?) a granola bar, and yogurt are tossed into 4 lunch boxes. The begging and pleading for the 5 year old to please wear pants, and the drama of what shirt to wear from the 10 year old is not amusing. Not to mention, I’m still in a robe.

UGH, BUT AHA!

I see my reflection in the toaster and I’m not impressed. My hair looks like a bunny was trying to nest on my head, but there is no time to shower.  I don’t want to look disheveled for the pediatrician! If she sees me like this….it won’t matter one bit, but STILL!

I have the solution to day old, greasy hair ladies and gents.  Some of you may already know this, but some of you younger readers may learn something today.  Don’t spend your hard earned cash on expensive dry shampoos to rejuvenate your hair. Simply find that container of BABY POWDER hibernating under the sink or in the lower cabinet of the bathroom. Pour a small amount onto your roots in sections, and massage the powder in until you no longer see it. It will soak up the oil in your hair until you can wash it later that day or the next day. Cheap, yet effective.

The family and I scrambled out the door almost on time, and with most of our shoes, ready to tackle the day ahead. And speaking of ahead, don’t smell mine.  I hope you enjoy your day!

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Five kids and one paper plate

 

I stretch the dollar, and I mean stretch as in yoga style. I’m the downward dog of dollar spending and proud of it!  As a foster mother of 3, and a biological mother of 2, it is necessary to find ways to make that green stuff last as long as possible.  It takes creativity and patience to captivate, feed, and clothe this family, and I want to share all of the tips I have learned or developed along the way. Call me cheap or frugal, I won’t mind one bit.  I’ll also throw in an occasional story of the things that the children in our house have said over the years for pure entertainment.

 

My hope for this blog is to inspire you, humor you, and show you that it’s okay to buy used clothing, darn holey socks, and cut one paper plate to feed 4 children goldfish crackers.