Babblings
2004-07-28 at 9:53 a.m.
Today is M's birthday. Hard to believe I have a 22 year old stepson. We're taking him to dinner at J0e's Cr@b Shack tonight. I hope he's okay with the fact that that's his present.
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I finally have current tags on my car. They wanted proof of two years past personal property taxes. This is the most ridiculous process and I think Missouri is the only state still twisted enough to have it. Personal property taxes, that is. We could only show proof of last year's taxes being paid and like K told the clerk - obviously we paid the year prior or we wouldn't have been able to get tags last year. She agreed. Now I have to figure out how I'm going to pay for my insurance this time around...
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K took E to the Hair Saloon for Men a few days ago and they got haircuts. K got his usual flat top and E got the best cut he's ever gotten. Usually, when we take him for haircuts, I have to point out that he has a cowlick at the crown of his head and that his hair needs to be kept longer in that area. This girl spotted it before K even said anything and cut accordingly. It's short on the sides, longer on the top and can be combed flat to the side or spiked. He looks so adorable! J got his cut last week, so all we have left is G.
I'm dreading that.
G will be three in 11 days and he's never had a haircut. I mean... I've trimmed it up a few times, but he's never had a professional cut. He needs one, desperately. He looks like a sheepdog, or one of C!ndy Crawford's kids. I know he isn't going to sit still for any length of time and I foresee us leaving the salon with G kicking and screaming and half a head of hair still intact. Not to mention a scissors wound or two.
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I'm making a real effort to try to save our money. I'm meticulous about logging in our checkbook register all the checks and debit card expenses we incur. It doesn't help mat-ters any when K comes to me at the end of the week and hands me a stack of debit card receipts from lunches out, stops at the convenient store for coffee and other miscellaneous and unnecessary shit. In an instant, what I thought was a buffer to buy groceries until next payday, is already gone and we're in trouble again. Who's fault is it? Mine. Because I control the checkbook. Mine because of suggesting we go out to eat once or for buying curtains on sale 60% off.
It infuriates me when I'm sharing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and leftover spaghettios with three kids, that K gets to go out four to five times a week to fancy, child-free lunches with his co-workers. At $9 - $12 a pop, this adds up quickly. He tells me, "It was so-and-so's birthday! We had to take him out!"
Why must everything have a social component? These same people likely wouldn't say hello to him on the street, but he's required to take them out for their stinkin' birthdays?? He's not their fucking boss, why do co-workers have to foot the bill? How hard is it to say, "Oh happy birthday! But I brought my lunch - I'm staying in the office. Have fun!" I know he just wants to feel as if he's part of the group, but how fair is it that I'm at home eating a 12 cent bag of Ramen noodles while he's getting gourmet hamburgers?
Which all leads me to wonder if I ought to be working. I mean, I know I can't work outside the home. Period. It would be ridiculous for me to try. With what I'd spend on daycare for G (to which I'm adamently opposed anyway)and after school care for J, gas for my car and a new wardrobe to replace the sloppy housewife clothes I currently wear... I'd barely break even. And that's if I had any skills. I doubt there are any openings for someone who can change diapers in record time or mop the floor with her feet while she plays a game with one child and reads to another. I know where my talents lie, but there just isn't a need for them in corporate america.
I wish I could find something I could do from home in the evenings that paid well. I know, I know... me and every other housewife in the world.
Well, I better go get the house straightened up before our guests tonight. See ya.