eatthefrostingfirst

Let's face it, raising children is pricey. Being a stay at home Mom is pricey too because I often find the only therapy that works is retail therapy. That being said, I've compiled a list on how to save money. Do not sign your children up for extra curricular activities. A 30 minute session of Karate is going to cost me $237 for two boys, 4 week sessions. Do not send your child to summer camp. See previous post. Home school. This way your children wont be tempted for the above mentioned because their friends at school wont be talking about it. Do not take your children food shopping with you. You inevitably will buy much more than you intended to buy. Cut coupons and don't be afraid to use them. Times are tough; the cashier at the supermarket checkout will not look at you twice, believe me. Do not give up necessities like cable TV or the occasional trip to the mall. After all, we all need an escape. Our children? Don't worry. They get escapes elsewhere by

It's not even March and already I'm stressing out over summer plans. Reminder: type A woman here. I found out they cancelled my summer camp option for Youngest. They also cut Oldest's "summer school" down to 3 1/2 weeks. Summer is 13 weeks total. I admit I was always a bad math student but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that leaves me with a lot of weeks of nothing to do with my children. I am not that Mother who looks forward to school vacations and summer breaks. I am not that mother who thinks it will be wonderful to have no schedule, no restrictions. I love restrictions. I have been furiously typing away at my computer looking for options and unless we take out a second mortgage on our home, it's pretty much me and the boys this summer. I cannot believe how expensive day camp is. Sure I have the option of our town rec department, which is what I will opt for, but it's not ideal. As they get older I realize that I need to start

I went for Genetic testing two weeks ago; suggested by my oncologist and surgeon. Apparently, I am at higher risk for carrying a Breast/Ovarian Cancer gene because of family history as well as because I'm Jewish. Yup. Read that right. Being a Jewish woman from Ashkenazi descent puts me in a higher category off the bat. Us Jews have always had it rough! So for two weeks I patiently waited. I had already made my decision what I would do if I was a carrier. The ovaries would come out. I wouldn't opt for another mastectomy because I'm already being watched closely but the ovaries...they were goners. Genetic counselor called this AM while I was on my way to Roche Brothers. "Is this a bad time?" she asked. I thought for a moment if I would be crying in the fruit aisle if the news was bad and figured I'd already come to terms with things so, no, this time was fine. She opens the envelope while on the phone with you. We find out at the same time so th

Youngest asked me today "Mommy, when do I get to make the rules?" "When you're a Daddy" I say. "When I'm married, I get to make the rules?" "No honey. Then your wife makes the rules" He ponders for a minute. "Well then I'm never gonna get married because I want to ALWAYS make the rules" PART TWO Dear husband comes home from work and asks youngest to clean up before heading upstairs. "No Daddy. I wont. You dont make the rules in the house. Mommy said she does" Okay, how do I get myself out of this one?

I need to go pick up my four year olds Kindergarten packet today. A packet that ensures me he really is going to school next year. In order to get said packet, I need to bring proof that A) We live where we say we do and B) A birth certificate I opened the safe where we keep our "important stuff" and found the envelope marked BIRTH CERTIFICATES. I opened it slowly, taking a deep breath, as I knew what I was about to find. I first came across Oldest's. I forgot the actual time of his birth (8:15PM) and glanced over the part that mentioned he is a twin. My signature has changed from a neatly written name to a now, illegible scribble. I neatly folded it away and pulled out the next one. I hoped it was Youngest's so that I would have a reason to put it away afterwards. But it wasn't. Zachary Jonathan Stern Born 8:11PM. August 7, 2003. Twin. Attached to the birth certificate was his death certificate. They called him Baby Zachary Jonathan Stern (whi

I joked with BIL and SIL to be that this should be their wedding song. Truth be told; I wasn't really joking. I don't mean this in a bad way but it is true..your world is about to change. Not so much the marriage thing. Sure you need to get used to sharing a kitchen, making way in the bathroom medicine cabinet and cohabitating but the kid thing, that's where your world becomes not your own anymore. I used to be able to pack up a weekend bag and head away for a night. One bag. Going to my in laws the other day we packed 4 bags. It appeared as we were spending the week as opposed to one night. Snacks, video games, books and crayons filled the "car bag". This sat in the backseat yet I needed to turn around every 15 minutes to grab something out of it for dear children. Naturally both boys needed to bring their own backpack filled with two friends each along with the necessities. On top of that I needed to bring the following: 1 nebulizer machine 2 albut

Spent the afternoon with the poopy doctor. I kid you not. There really is such a thing. Technically the clinic is called the PIP clinic ( pain and incontinence program or as they joke, poop in your pants program. Come up with your own fun name. It's endless) 230 apt and the clinic was filled. Some obvious developmentally challenged kids, some clearly stubborn and strong willed like my youngest. 45 minutes later we are seen. Poopy Dr apologizes profusely and even allows youngest to refer to her as the poopy doctor . There's immediate rapor. I cut to the chase. I let her know I'm not a moronic mother. I've done all the tricks (bribery, punishment, begging and pleading. Aside from locking him in his room until he goes in a toilet, I've done it all) She sits and listens. Examines my four year old and assures me there is hope. Poopy doc promises me he will not go to college in pull ups and suggests a sticker chart. Okay, we were getting along great up until now.

Youngest wanted me to write a list of all of his friends (aka stuffed animals) so in case he went on vacation, he wouldn't forget them all. (Seriously, where does he come up with this stuff?) "Mommy, how do we spell Henry Bear? H, E then what Mommy? I already wrote H. E. N? How do you make an N? Like this? Is this an N? " After spelling Henry Bear over 10 times I decided it may be easier to write the list myself. After all, the kid has over 15 friends alone that sleep on his bed. Let alone the nameless ones on the bookcase that apparently we needed to include. "Mommy. There's a little bear on my bookcase and a bigger little bear.So dont forget to write them down." The list now sits on my desk in front of me. I'm sure it will get lost in a day or two and he will be frantic looking for it. I envision needing to make another list. I better put this one on the hard drive. Day one continued with oldest yelling at youngest that he was NOT in charge of

Dear husband grew up in New York City. In Manhattan. He didn't have a backyard until the age of 30. There was no cub scouts, no trick or treating at the neighbors houses, no riding around in your car after math class let out in high school. I married a city guy who, thankfully, wanted the suburban life. My in laws are still there so we go to visit. My blood pressure rises every time we cross the bridge into Manhattan. We spend lots of money going from point A to point B because you can't just hop in your car, you must take a taxi. Or the subway (which we don't do much of). Or you walk. A lot. Which I admit, is actually refreshing. The suburbanites don't walk enough. We get into our SUV's and our minivans and we drive around the corner to drop off our child at school or a play date. We walk to the local drugstore because it's cold out or because it's further then a few minutes away. We are spoiled. And possibly heavier then most New Yorkers due to th

Let me count the ways 1) I love you by allowing you to snore through the entire night so that you can get a total night sleep while I toss and turn in the guest room night after night. 2) I love you by cleaning up the toilet you pee in, cleaning the germs from your sink handles, vacuuming the floors you walk on, and cleaning the water marks from the mirror that you shave in front of. What? You thought these cleaned themselves? 3) I love you so much that I ignore your burps, your cursing at TV's during sporting events, your desire to make my children into YANKEE fans, your forgetfulness to turn on the disposal even though you swear to me you hardly ever forget. 4)I love you so much that I remain sober every night so that I can help you put the children to bed when in actuality I should be drinking a bottle of wine because I had THAT kind of day. Every day is THAT kind of day when raising two young boys 5) Finally, dear husband, love of my life, I love you for who you ar

I've talked about this before but it bares worth repeating. I'm not getting the parents who are loving the idea of a snow day. To boot, a snow day two days-- TWO DAYS , before school vacation week. Seriously parents, what am I doing wrong? How am I not feeling the joy about a snow day? I'll tell you how because I know this is what my day would look like. 610AM - Daddy. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Two adorable boys, ages 4 and 6, stay in jammies while Mommy sits and curses at the TV. 800AM - Dear husband leaves to go to work. Leaving Mommy behind with the above mentioned adorable boys. 810AM - Mommy. What are we going to do today? Mommy want to play Candyland? Want to play chutes and ladders? Can I play computer? Can I play leapster? Mommy. Jared's taking my leapster. Don't do that Jared. Jared, move. Jared I'm playing 830AM. Mommy can I watch a show? Jeremy picked a show last time. It's my turn to pick a show. Not that one. I already watched that

Patrons of the Children's Museum in Boston today. I apologize for my 4 1/2 year old son for pushing your child today when he was busy hogging the Curious George Elevator. He didn't mean to yell NO into her face and then ever so subtly, push her out of his way. See, he is....okay, 4 1/2, and should know better. You are right. And to the people who were trying to eat lunch at Au Bon Pain, my apologies for interrupting your light conversation over bagels and coffee while I carried my son out of there screaming and tantrumming like a two year old. You see, he decided that spitting his tongue out at his parents would be the best way to handle his disappointment that they didn't carry the OAT bagel he wanted. Those of you waiting in the lobby with your happy and excited children, I apologize that you needed to see my youngest throw his Curious George brochure across the floor and proceed to scream at me. He was, after all, expressing anger over the fact that his behavior didn&

I lost 7.5 lbs and the only people who have noticed are my Mother and my son's bus driver. I'm thinking I need to get out more. I could potentially eat a whole bowl of raw cookie dough. I'm afraid to say it out loud but am thinking that the tamoxifen is helping my migraines. Could Breast Cancer actually bring some good to my life? I'm going to NYC next weekend and dropping the boys at my inlaws. Dear Husband and I will spend the day shopping, eating and a night at a hotel. The one thing I cant wait to do...trip to Dylan's candy store. I'm a gummy candy fanatic. Found my 4 year old putting his hand in the toilet. Again, I ask, is this really my life?

True fact. There's a Daddy Boot Camp. As a matter of fact, I know someone who went to one. It was a while ago so not sure if they just changed a bunch of diapers on a doll or not but I'm thinking Boot Camp should be mandatory for Father's and Husband's. How great would that be? Topics would (and should) include the following: Patience How to not lose your cool when your 4 year old asks you the same question 100 times in a row. Remember, he is only asking you 100 times in a row because you are either: A) ignoring him B) not giving him the answer he requires. Above also applies to the nagging wife. Nurturing There's no doubt in anyone's mind you love your family. We see it with an occasional slap on the back or praise when your kid brings home a good report card but are you wondering why they always cry to Mommy when they hurt themselves? Why is it that Mommy always needs to make the pain go away? Because we are Mothers. We get the maternal nu