Materialism

Okay, I admit it: I'm totally materialistic. I don't know how to fight it. I'd like to say I'm not, but I am. I want nice stuff. I want more nice stuff. Probably you're thinking, who doesn't? But I know some people who don't even care.
I want my boys to look cute. I buy my 9-month-old shoes. He's not even crawling (give him a break, his head is HUGE -- his doctor even said, "Wow, he has a HUGE head!"). I buy my 2-year-old shoes. Lots of shoes. I have to stop myself from buying him shoes. How many pairs does he need?
I buy myself shoes. Cute shoes. How often do I get to wear cute shoes? If I'm going to a playgroup, I don't wear cute shoes. If I'm going to a storytime, I don't wear cute shoes. Yesterday I had an interview and I wore cute shoes. So I get to wear cute shoes once a month or maybe twice, when I work or when I go on a date with my husband. Otherwise I work from home. I'm barefoot right now.
Here's a list of things I want: a new set of phones for the house (ours are crackly and also there's a Cheerio stuck in the little hanger part of one), a new TV (really, MrDartt wants one but that would be okay with me), a playset for our yard (you know, with swings and a slide and stuff), more shoes, more clothes (I need some new jeans that look nicer -- mostly the knees are worn off from playing on the floor with the boys), a new car (why not?), a new trash can (ours is SO HARD to get the bag out of), a new dishwasher (ours doesn't fit that many dishes). I can think of more stuff but you get the idea.
Anyway, is everybody materialistic? (As I said, I don't think so.)
And how do you fight against it? Because how do you ever save for retirement if you are spending all your money on stuff, stuff, stuff?

My dad calls them The Oblivious and The Rude

Here's what I don't get: how can so many people in one place at one time a)be so oblivious or b)be so rude that I can't get my grocery shopping done?
The other day MrDartt and I went on two separate shopping trips. He and Big Boy went to the Home Depot and I took Little Boy to the grocery store.
It was my job to get food to feed the dads for Memorial Day.
I have to say that when I first approached the grocery store, a very nice man helped me detangle two shopping carts since my hands were full and I couldn't get them apart one-handed. So that was very nice. He was one polite person out of 853 I ran into inside the grocery store.
First, I went to produce to get salsa makings. My first mistake. I encountered two women in their 40s to 60s, shopping together. One was wearing one of those leather cowboy hats. I don't know if they were friends, sisters, a couple, what, but each had her own cart. They were examining the tomatoes. A box of 4 tomatoes was on sale for $1.50 or something. Good price, but these two women were standing there, blocking the entire walkway between the tomatoes and the next bin, and blocking the entire tomato display so no one else (including me) could get to the tomatoes. Remember these two women.
So then, I went to walk along the back of the store, to get to the next aisle. A man was standing at the deli counter and another customer was standing exactly next to him, so no one, including me, could get between them to walk from produce to the next aisle. So I excused myself and one of them moved. In the next aisle, I walked about halfway down, and two women were examining the canned fish. Their carts were side by side in the aisle so no one, including me, could walk past them to get through the aisle. As luck would have it, I, too, needed canned fish. MrDartt wanted it for a make-his-own pizza. But I couldn't even look at the canned fish.
Things went on like this. I wanted to go to the meat section to look at the ribs (baby back ribs: buy one get two free!). Sure enough, at the meat section I ran into the two women with the two carts and one cowboy hat. Blocking another aisle! They were standing between the cheese display and the rib display so once again, no one else could look at either display or walk past. Seriously.
Then I went to the dog food aisle and there were no big bags of dog food. Just not even there. A grandmother stopped to talk to Little Boy and tell me all about her own childbirth expriences and about her own grandchildren. That was okay until another lady came down the aisle and couldn't get past. I moved my cart so she could get through but she couldn't get past the grandmother's cart. I was embarrassed. The grandmother just ignored her so I said, "I think this woman is trying to get by." She just kept talking to Little Boy! Believe me, he's 8 months old. He's not much of a conversationalist.
Grandmother told me the big bags of dog food are at the front of the store, in front of the cash registers. So I went to the front of the store, and a cashier yelled at me, "You have to put your basket on THIS side!"
"Just getting dog food," I muttered.
Then, when I went to go through the line, the cashier grabbed the basket before I had a chance to grab Little Boy and sometime between that time and the time I finished paying, he'd spit out his pacifier and lost it.
When I finally got to the car I realized I forgot mushrooms but I drove to a different store to get them.
Is it like this everywhere? Or did I just get to the store at a bad time on a bad day with bad people?

Reading the Dictionary

My husband, as I write (type), is sitting on the couch reading the dictionary. Seriously.
I just asked him what a good topic would be for today's post and he said, insane children (Big Boy has been crying off and on, hitting constantly, and on time out all morning). Then he said, "Yep, 'bodhisattva' is in here."
I looked over and he was reading a dictionary.
I said, "There's my topic for today. I never thought I'd marry a man who sits on the couch reading a dictionary."
He said, "Have me smoking a cigar, too, or something. And don't make me look dumb. I'm sure everybody who saw 'Point Break' knew what 'bodhisattva' meant."
Earlier during the week, my husband was reading "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," and he saw the word "bodhisattva" in there, with an explanation of what it meant (by the way, it means, "one whose essence is enlightenment" according to Webster, and its roots relate to Buddha).
When he saw the word in the book, he got so excited that he ran up and told me a 20-year mystery was solved. When he originally saw Point Break, with Keanu Reeves, he didn't know what that word meant. He never looked it up and so earlier in the week, while reading Zen, he recognized the word, learned its meaning and was VERY excited.
I certainly didn't know what "bodhisattva" meant -- I'd never even seen the word.
I urge each of you to go out and use it today, in a sentence or two. See how many people know what it means.
And just like my husband said, "I can't believe any movie with Keanu Reeves would have word like that in it."
Go figure.

Customer Service

My mom's birthday and Mother's Day are periously close together.

This year, all us kids decided to get her a Nintendo Wii for both holidays. We don't usually combine the two but it gets difficult to think of something to get her and we thought if we all went in together this would give mom and dad something fun to do besides go to movies.

So, I was in charge of going to buy it. I stupidly went to KMart in Stupid Town. Every time I go there, about nineteen people are standing in the one open cashier line and about ten employees are wandering the store putting stuff away while the line extends.

I went to the electronics section where a gentleman was helping a young man and the young man's mother look at digital cameras. They were looking at a lot of cameras. I had big boy in a shopping cart and we walked up to the camera counter. The worker did not even acknowledge us for at least seven minutes. Then he said he'd be right with us. Then a teenaged boy came over and started butting in, asking the worker questions. Then the camera boy asked the worker questions. Then a teenaged girl came and asked the worker questions.

So finally, I said, "I just want to buy a Nintendo Wii, is there someone else I need to ask for help?"

"Oh!" He jumped as if he'd forgotten I was there and my question had startled him. He asked the camera boy and his mom if he could help me very quickly. So he put away the cameras and as he was walking over to help me, the teenaged girl from before cornered him and asked him a question. About a ten-dollar phone case. So what do you think he did?

I'll tell you.

He walked over with the teenage girl and helped her with phone cases for probably another five minutes. Then he walked back over to the camera counter and started talking to the interrupting teenaged boy about when he'd be working. The camera kid and his mom were still there. So I walked across the department, back to the camera counter and stood there for another three minutes before the worker asked me, "What did I forget?"

AHHHH! Are you kidding me?

So he forgot the $250 sale while he was busy helping to NOT make a $10 sale. The teenaged girl with the phone case didn't buy a thing.

He ended up being very nice and friendly after he finally got me the darn game and let me pay for it and get the heck out of there. But come on!

So for real this time, I will not be going back to KMart in Stupid Town. Ever. Again.

A Dance Party

Big Boy and I (and the giraffe) just finished having a dance party. Awesome 80s music, rocking out. Seriously.
Even though I was a dancer throughout my childhood, I never felt comfortable dancing at school dances. I'd dance with my friends but usually it was totally goofing off. I felt comfortable enough if I had something coreographed but you don't typically go to social dances and perform choreography. And if you do, you're a big dork.
So this morning, we opened a CD Big Boy got in a Happy Meal (yes, I fed him McDonald's for lunch the other day so I could get through Wal-Mart while he ate his chicken nuggets -- kept him in the basket happily, with his mouth and hands full -- no yelling and no hitting mommy). We put it on, and it's a bunch of songs from my childhood. We started dancing and it was SO fun! I was swinging my hair, throwing my head back, shaking my bootie (as Big Boy instructed), and not a care in the world.
I never did that when I was in high school. Or when I'd go to clubs in college. Maybe a little when I was single and went dancing with groups of girls after college, but still, I'd be looking around, making sure nobody noticed how stupid I looked.
But this morning, with only my two-year-old as an audience, I was having a blast! My point is that I wish I could be this uninhibited all the time. I wish I could go to the grocery store without mascara on, or sing at the top of my lungs in the drive through line when my windows are rolled down.
For now, I'll have to content myself with being uninhibited around my family. Because soon enough, my boys will be kids rather than a baby and a toddler, and they'll think I'm goofy.
Or maybe, just maybe, they'll think I'm cool.

The Universe: providing character building

After the universe provided some fencing for me on Thursday afternoon, it provided some character building exercises on Thursday evening.

When I spotted the fencing, I was on my way home from music playgroup and a trip to the grocery store. I'd bought supplies to make green enchiladas from scratch.

I got the boys fed and down for naps by 1:40 p.m., and thought, "I'm going to eat lunch and then start making my enchiladas while they sleep."

Ready to relax, I ate some spaghetti while reading my romance novel. I finished lunch and started chopping. I chopped tomatillos, onions, garlic, jalapenos. I cooked chicken. My good mood had carried over from my fencing find. It was a very pleasant afternoon. Then the boys woke up.

First, Little Boy insisted on being held. Big Boy was still sleeping, so I held Little Boy so he wouldn't wake Big Boy. I also was trying to finish cooking chicken and then shred it. That's hard, one-handed. Then, Big Boy woke up. He wanted to watch a movie, so I let him so I could cook. But Little Boy was fussing and fussing and fussing, so I was having a hard time cooking. I put him in the front pack and then had to fight against him grabbing for the knife, the cheese, the tortilla wrapper, you name it. I still had cheese to shred, and roasted vegetables to puree to make the sauce. I still had to fill the enchiladas and roll them up in the pans. I started the rice.

Big Boy decided he wanted a snack. He came to sit on the barstool while I was cooking. Then he stood up on the barstool, and said, "I am not going to sit down, yet." I said, "Why not?" He said, "Because I'm poopin'. I can't poop while I'm sitting down." I said, "Oh, too squishy on your bottom?" He said, "Yeah. I'm just going to sit on my knees for now."

I finished making the sauce and took Big Boy downstairs to the diaper changing station. I pulled off his pants, and dragged poopies down the front of his left leg. I cringed. I took off his diaper. Never, NEVER have I seen such a huge poopie. "Wow," I said, "This is a HUGE poopie!" He said, "Wow! I'm gonna have to show THIS one to grandma!" I got him cleaned up and put a clean diaper on him. All this time, Little Boy was screaming and screaming, laying on the futon. Big Boy wanted to put sweatpants on, but of course did not want my help. So we carried his sweatpants upstairs. On the way upstairs, though, he said, "What's this poopie doing on the stairs?"

Yes, his poopie had come out of his diaper on the way downstairs. And he found two more poopies in the hallway. "Are these cat poopies?" "No, they're Logan poopies." "Whoa, that was a HUGE poopie."

Big Boy decided he was ready for dinner -- and of course my enchiladas were taking WAY longer than I anticipated. He wanted frozen spinach so he got back on the barstool and started eating frozen spinach. He got down and took off his diaper. "I want to eat naked," he said. Climbed back on the barstool. Dropped spinach all over the floor and all over the kitchen counter. Asked for shredded cheese. "The cheese is getting on my pee pee," he said, adding, "Silly cheese." Cheese everywhere.

Funny smell. Rice burning. Totally hard and stuck to pot. I swear I followed directions. LittleBoy screaming. Rice pot in sink, filled with water. Filling enchiladas. Running out of chicken. Thawing out beef. Beef leaking beef juice all over microwave. Little Boy screaming. Big Boy wanting hot dog. Heating up hot dog. Hot dog too hot. Big Boy spitting it out. Big Boy eating spinach. Uh oh, Big Boy spitting spinach on counter. Hot dog and spinach in garbage ("We don't spit our food out. You must not be hungry."). Big Boy crying.

Enchiladas filled up. In pans. In oven. Bath time. Little Boy tipping over. Face in water. No reaction (thank goodness). Time to get out (thank goodness). Little Boy in bed (thank goodness). Fighting with Big Boy to get jammies on ("I'm struggling with my jammies," he said, because he read in his Curious George book about the ostrich struggling with the bugle he swallowed). Reading books with Big Boy. Big Boy in bed (THANK GOODNESS!).

Enchiladas done. Don't even want the damn enchiladas. Kitchen a disaster. Disaster. Eight loads of laundry done and waiting to be folded.

I don't know how some stay-at-home spouses do it. They spend all day with the kids and then manage to have dinner on the table when their spouses come home from work. They have kids screaming, pooping, spitting, eating, wanting milk, wanting dinner, wanting attention, wanting food. It's amazing. This is why we usually eat leftovers during the week. MrDartt isn't usually home for dinner and it's just too darn character building to cook every night.

The Universe: the ultimate provider

Haven't you ever heard that if you want or need something, you should just ask the universe, just put it out there, and you'll get it? Well, it's true. I know it sounds New Age and spiritual and kind of nebulous, but it's true. I'm a believer. Call it what you want -- God providing, the stars aligning, whatever.

Here's a good example, which happened to me yesterday. Over the weekend (that wasn't yesterday but it's the beginning of the story), MrDartt and I priced out some fencing because we want to make a dog run that will give the dogs shade and keep them away from the road, since Lola barks at every car that drives by going more than 10 miles per hour, as well as any people that walk by, as well as any horses people ride by, as well as any bunnies that hop by, as well as any birds that fly by. Anyway. we think moving them over to the side of the house might decrease her barking. And the amount of dog poopie in the front yard.

Sorry, got sidetracked. So the fencing, plus the stakes and the gate, were going to cost $300. So we put that project off for a while, since property taxes are due and we have a few medical bills to pay from Big Boy's ear tube surgery.

Then yesterday, I was driving home from music class playgroup and just a few houses down from my house on my street, I saw some big rolls of fencing on the ground outside someone's yard. They had signs on them that I couldn't read from the main road, so I turned off thinking, "No, this can't be. Too good to be true." Nope, it was true! The signs said, "Free Fencing." !!!

Since my mother-in-law is using our truck during her stay here and she was at her other son's house yesterday, I immediately called my nextdoor neighbor (my dad) and asked if we could borrow him and his truck. We got one big roll of fencing into the bed of his truck, but the second roll wouldn't fit. So I suggested tying it onto the truck and dragging it home (after all, it's only a few blocks). "And you call ME the redneck," he said. I didn't want to make two trips because Little Boy had been crying for the whole drive home, wanting his lunch. And I wanted to get the fencing right away for fear of someone else coming along and getting it.

But my dad, good sport and redneck that he is (just kidding, dad), did it. So I was very pleased with my find, and I was following him up our very bumpy dirt road, watching both rolls of fencing bounce, increasingly higher, as we made our way towards home. Suddenly, about 25 feet from my driveway, the roll in the back of the trunk bounced right out and the roll on the ground snagged on a spike in the road (why there's a spike in a dirt road, I have no idea), and both rolls broke free. My dad and I jumped out of our cars and loaded the big roll back into the truck and I dragged the little roll into my driveway.

And I forgot to mention that as we were loading the fencing, the man giving it away came out and said he also had a gate, more fencing and some stakes we could have. AWESOME!

So I saved us at least $275 -- we'll still have to buy some stakes and some doo dads to hook the fencing onto the stakes. I was so pleased with myself and with my find -- and with the universe!

This isn't the only time this kind of thing has happened. My mom has always told me that you should just relax and trust God, and things will work out for you. I don't think it's exclusively a religious thing -- this applies to everybody.

So the universe provided at 1 p.m. yesterday. But wait 'til you hear about the rest of my day. That'll have to wait until tomorrow's post.

main players -- human

Four humans, two canines and two felines live in our house. And various houseplants in varying stages of the life cycle. I thought you should know more about all of us (except the houseplants -- I'm kind of embarrassed to elaborate):

First, the humans:

There’s me, Mrs. Dartt. I’m a 20-something (almost 30!) wife, mother, writer and optimist who likes pretty much everybody but also has quite a list of pet peeves.

Then there’s Mr. Dartt. He’s a 30-something husband, dad, hard worker and pessimist who is surprised when things turn out well and is grudgingly accepting optimism as a good lifestyle.

Our two children, Big Boy and Little Boy, are 2.5 years old and seven months old, respectively.

Big Boy is a rambunctious, ever-moving firecracker who enjoys going down slides, singing and running on the treadmill (he only got to do it once under Mr. Dartt’s supervision before Mrs. Dartt found out about it and laid down the law – what a party pooper, right?). He loves Curious George books. He talks nonstop and has only recently discovered that he likes to sing.

Little Boy is relaxed, smiley and cuddly (all unlike his big brother). He spits up constantly but seems to enjoy it. He also bursts into tears when certain friends and family members speak to him. I'm hoping this is just a phase and that he will not continue to do this throughout his life. I hope he outgrows it before a girl he is dating when he's a teenager brings him home to meet her parents. "Hello, Little Boy, nice to meet you." (Eyes squint shut, mouth opens and screams ensue.)

Check in later for introductions to the canines and felines.

Hope everybody is having a wonderful day -- and looking forward to a relaxing weekend!

Introductions

Welcome to my blog, DarttBoard. Thanks for stopping by! I hope that you will find something you can relate to, or at least something you can enjoy, in reading snippets from my life, my experiences and my thoughts …

Here are just a few things I think you should know about me before we get started:

One. I love being a mother. Love it. Even when my two year old asks for blue milk and then refuses to drink it because it’s blue. And then throws his sippy cup on the floor because he wants regular milk, and blue milk is not his favorite any more. And then cries when I put the blue milk in the refrigerator because he wants blue milk and he is so thirsty.

Two. I love my husband so much … and I know I don't express it often enough or well enough. I rely on him more than he probably knows.

Three. I am addicted to saving money.

Four. I almost always smell like spit up.

Five. My forehead is so wrinkly that I had to cut bangs. Every time I cut bangs, I hate them, because they never look right. But vanity won out. Bad bangs beat wrinkles, I guess.

Six. I am not a very good housekeeper. I avoid hand-washing dishes, and I don’t iron. I do pick up toys and wash and fold laundry.

Seven. I kill houseplants. I don’t sneak up on them in the dark with a weapon, but I slowly overwater or underlight them to death, or expose them to a toddler’s deadly whims. It's a wonder I've kept two human children alive.

Eight. I drive a Volvo. This has many implications, I know. But the worst is that I am a hypocrite. Throughout my young driving years, I constantly made fun of Volvo drivers for driving the speed limit. And now I’ve joined them, driving the speed limit. Most of the time.

Nine. My sophomore year in high school, my graduating class' homecoming theme was Peter Pan, and our float was a pirate ship. During halftime at the homecoming game, as I rode in our float around the football field, I mooned the oppsoing team's spectators through a porthole.

Ten. Last night I ate two (yes, TWO) pieces of chocolate cake.



That's it for now. I hope you will check back often and share your own thoughts, feelings, advice, pet peeves and secrets!