I'm Cheating on Costco

I love Costco. In fact, I wrote a love letter to Costco. How many of you can say that? I do all my shopping there, with the exception of items I get at the local produce market. But I have a new boyfriend on the side as of tonight. Shhh, don't tell!

I wasn't intending to cheat. I know, I know, that's what everyone says. I wasn't even out looking or anything, I swear. It just happened. How?

Well, I'm a little overscheduled, I suppose. I've not really left the house since last Wednesday due to ill children. Today I left the house at 6:15 to go to work and didn't get home until after 5. I made the choice to do yoga (yay me), and tomorrow only gets worse. I have a PTO meeting at 10am, and at 2:30 I am driving to my office to get a flu shot (all the other options are when we're on vacation) and then driving back in time to host playgroup at 4 before my co-op meeting at 7.

Oh, and I need to provide food for the playgroup. I'm famous for the spreads I put out, and people count on it now. I can't let them down. However, I know I'm really pushing it on food to serve to company (except for the fixings for some great quesadillas).

So the plan was to go to the half price Monday sushi place by my gym, order my sushi and then head to the fresh market across the street for some inspiration while I wait the half hour for my sushi to be made.

One little problem with that whole theory. The sushi place was nearly empty -- I'm blaming it either on people panicking after the market today or more likely, people watching the White Sox lose. My sushi was going to be ready in four minutes. Oops.

As I headed back to the parking lot, I discovered that there is an Aldi in the same outlot. I've somehow never noticed this one before, but I'd mentioned awhile ago that one opened up near my parents and I was interested in trying it out. Much closer than the across the street Caputo's that actually involves a five minute drive due to the way the road it set up.

So I headed in with my reusable bag, taking a deep breath at the door and forgoing a cart.

I found white chocolate chips for $0.89. Hey, if I can find rice Chex-like cereal, I can make my white chocolate mix! Yep, Chex-like cereal for $1.79. Ooo, and baking powder. I'm almost out, you know.

Oh yeah -- Mister Man is in charge of snacks for his class this week! Granola bars for $1.89. And apples for everyone for $2.49. I debated over the fruit snacks for $1.69 but decided they weren't healthy enough.

Oh! And they have frozen spinach for $0.99! I can make spinach artichoke dip with the artichokes and cream cheese I have in the fridge.

Hmmm, those nectarines for $0.39 per pound look fantastic! And plums for $0.39, too? And peaches for $0.49? And grapes? Hmm. Fruit salad!

Pair that with the pretzels and animal crackers I have sitting in cabinets and the quesadillas I can make, and I think I'm set!

Total cost for everything I bought? $10.92.

So ummm sorry Costco. It was a quickie compared to my visits with you, but man was that satisfying. I may have to cheat again. I promise though, you were my first love!

Keep Me Away From The Papers!

I did it again. I read something in the newspaper, and now I'm totally paranoid. Ironically enough, this time it came from the Lifestyle and Entertainment section. It sounds innocuous, right? Ha!

The article in question is about hair loss. Well, I'm a woman in my early thirties; this shouldn't be an issue right? I didn't think it was either, but I read the article because I generally read all articles that have any modicum of interest to me ... and it's possible that my husband's pate isn't quite as full as it was when we were dating.

The problem? It was all the statistics and information they provided.

As a teenager, the average person has about 100,000 scalp hairs. Nearly everyone experiences some hair loss with age, but for people with pattern hair loss - a genetic condition inherited from one's parents that causes hair on top of the head to gradually fall out - the problem is more noticeable. About half of men have significant hair loss by about age 50, and 38 percent of women have it by age 70.

Wait a minute. Almost two in five women have significant hair loss by age seventy? Eek!

Pattern hair loss is caused by a gradual shrinkage of hair follicles on top of the head, so they become less effective at sprouting hair. Normally, each hair grows for two to six years, rests for several months, and falls out. Then a new hair emerges. In a healthy scalp, more than 90 percent of hair follicles are in the growth phase.

But as our hair follicles shrink, the growth phase gets shorter and the resting phase, longer. The result is double trouble: not only are the new hairs shorter, but there are also fewer of them. These older, smaller follicles also produce thinner hair. Men with pattern hair loss (and a very small percentage of women) have a third problem: the follicles shrink so much they stop producing hair altogether, so the bald patch starts to take over.

Now I'm thinking about how I have all these hairs on the side of my head and by my forehead that are tiny and short and fine. And never grow. Ever. OMG, I'm experiencing hair loss!

Still, the cause of women's pattern hair loss is less well understood. Researchers believe that several enzymes and hormones may combine to produce effects that are similar to DHT. Estrogen seems to be protective against hair loss, so some research suggests that the estrogen-to-testosterone ratio may be a factor. Although hair thinning can occur at any time after puberty, many women first experience it in their 50s, possibly as a result of ebbing estrogen levels.

Wait a second. I'm having these non-growing hairs at 32 (ok, so maybe I've had them for awhile) and most women don't get it until they're fifty. What does this mean for me? Am I having estrogen problems now, too? I need to talk to my ob/gyn.

In the early stages, you can minimize hair loss by treating your hair gently. Hair is more fragile when it's wet, so it's important to softly dry it with a towel - and don't pull at it with a comb or brush. Twirling your hair can twist it off its follicular moorings. Head scratching may help you think, but it's hard on your hair. If you've got an itchy scalp, the hair-friendly solution is to use some kind of anti-itch shampoo. Hairstyles with braids - indeed, any style that pulls the hair back - can speed hair loss because they tug on the hair.

You're kidding right? Don't brush or comb my hair when it's wet? People, I have somewhat curly hair. If I don't comb it when it's wet, I'm totally sunk. WHO doesn't brush or comb their hair when it's wet?

And no twirling? I twirl my hair all the time! I need to stop this habit immediately.

Head scratching is a problem? Seriously? I don't do it that often, but now I am completely conscious of every single time I touch my head or scratch it. Guess what happens now that I know every scratch of my head is damaging follicles. I am becoming completely paranoid about scratching my head for any reason. How about you? Think about how important it is to not scratch your head. Raise your hand if your head isn't itching just thinking about needing to not scratch it. I didn't think so.

No braids? No pulling my hair back? I'm a mom! What do you think I do with my hair five or six days a week? And I just realized that I put my hair into a ponytail (unconsciously obviously) when I went out to garden this afternoon. And now it's out, and I have messy loose hair. I have to put my hair up when I work out or it drives me nuts. On the plus side, maybe this is a good reason to quit working out. Or not.

My other issue is sleeping. I'm a very active sleeper, and I roll over a lot. And I move my head around to find just the right spot for my head on the pillow. Now all I can think about is the damage I'm doing every time I move my head. Obviously, I've made this problem in my head much bigger than it actually is.

BUT I will say that my hair is definitely less thick than it was before I was pregnant with Mister Man.

Reading through the rest of the article doesn't give me much faith. The cures you read about don't really work. Hairpieces are not an option. And the medicines that do work only work for as long as you use them. If you stop, the hair goes away. I don't think I'd ever go the route of medicines anyway.

This is why I need to cancel the paper. I don't need something silly like this to occupy my thoughts. I'm perfectly capable of coming up with some dumb issue all on my own, thank you.

Worth a Listen

A friend of mine sent this to me, and I actually spent the hour listening to it. It's fully worth the time to get some more info on what's going on with the financial crisis and some educational talk around it.

And my personal opinion? This is bad. I work in the financial industry, and I can see what's happening. I am watching what's going on behind the scenes where companies that have cash won't lend it because it's too risky to lend it to anyone, and companies that don't have it (be they large ones like Citi that had a hard time raising capital a year ago, God forbid they try now, or mom and pop companies) can't get it or can get it only at onerous rates that make it infeasible.

The bailout is not perfect. It won't be the magic elixir that fixes everything. But the wheels were not turning, and the Super Glue was almost set. Had the financial wheels stopped turning, well I can't picture the catastrophe that would be -- or rather, I'm afraid to. The bailout provides some WD-40. Will it keep things turning for now? Yes. Is it the best solution? Probably not, but it's the best we've got in our toolbox now.

Railing about the companies that made it happen and how we're rewarding them for their mistakes feels good but doesn't help. The horse is out of the barn, and if we don't do something, we're going to burn the barm to spite ourselves. If the company you work for can't get a loan to cover the operating cash it needs to, just as it's always done, what do you think is going to happen?

Anyway, just my thoughts above.... This NPR show is definitely worth listening to.

An Accidental Escape

Right about now, I should be getting near whatever suburb my husband's family reunion is in. I should be crammed into a car with my husband, wee ones and in-laws.

After all, this family reunion was a big deal. My SIL isn't going (she went to the Michigan game instead), and my FIL's plan is to write her out of the will -- not that they have much to leave, but this is the attitude towards the family reunion. Lucky for me, it just so happened to fall on the one weekend this college football season when Northwestern has a bye. Otherwise, we'd probably also be written out of the will.

Wait, I said should, didn't I?

We aren't there. In fact, we're at home. Both the wee ones are napping, and I'm making myself some lunch (yes, I know it's 2:49 but when you've been sick for awhile, sometimes you forget about meals since you don't eat much anymore) while watching some football.

That doesn't sound like I'm about to arrive at a family reunion somewhere in southern Illinois (don't ask, I truly don't know where) in about ten minutes, does it? It doesn't sound like we got in the car at 5:30 last night to drive six hours down to St Louis either. Or like we've spent the morning with my in-laws.

Yep, it's been one of those weeks, but this was all my husband's call. Skipping the family reunion of your spouse's family is not really the decision you want to be in charge of, and luckily I didn't have to be.

On Tuesday, Mister Man's nurse at school called me at 3:36. Since school ends for him at 3:30 (technically 3:40 but since they want the kids on the buses pulling out at 3:40 it now ends at 3:30 -- no further comments from me on that), I wasn't too concerned and figured she was calling to tell me that he had fallen or someone had scratched him or whatever.

Not so much. He had managed to puke all over the hallway, and they (understandably) don't send kids home on the bus after they've thrown up. I was stuck in a traffic jam trying to get to my house by 4 when his bus would normally drop him off. North of my house. The school is about 25 minutes southwest of my house. Luckily, my husband was able to go pick him up.

Mister Man continued not feeling well the rest of the week, and he hasn't been to school or daycare since. It hasn't really been anything too bad. He wasn't throwing up, he just had a really low grade fever, and the biggest problem seemed to be that he was coughing a bunch, which wore him out.

On Tuesday night / Wednesday morning around 3am, Little Miss woke up crying. Yep, she started vomiting (phew -- thankfully Daddy was around and able to take care of her so I didn't have to keep my gag reflex forcibly in check) and had a 103 degree fever. Perfect timing, really, right?

Needless to say, Little Miss also stayed home on Wednesday and Thursday, but she seemed to perk back up. Usually I'm most worried about her since she only weighs 26 pounds (at 3) and she's had pneumonia twice so we know these things go to her lungs. Oddly enough, she's totally fine. In fact, I sent her to school yesterday and swim lessons today.

The biggest issue was really going to be the reunion. Even though Little Miss seems to be on the mend enough to do some things, riding in the car for six hours there and back knowing they each get carsick wasn't really something I was looking forward to.

Plus, my in-laws live in a tiny ranch house with paper thin walls. And they stay up late at night. And never turn off the tv. And are partly deaf. And there are no beds for the wee ones. You can see where I'm going here on the sleep thing, right? Yeah.

The reunion was scheduled for 3pm, an hour from my in-laws' house. That means no nap for either wee one. And with it just starting at 3, I don't see my in-laws being willing to leave at 5 or 5:30 so we could get home for a decent night's sleep.

Fortunately, this also worried my husband enough that he called his parents yesterday morning to tell them we weren't able to come. So far as I know, we're still in the will. With Mister Man's birthday next Saturday, they were also planning to celebrate it with us (retired folk drive up here to visit us? Surely you jest!) this weekend.

This morning, our decision to not go was validated.

I awoke to Mister Man in his bedroom screaming for MOMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY! Knowing what was likely coming, I sent Daddy. I made the right call. Mister Man was again ill but was able to make it to the bathroom.

Once finished, he wanted to come rest with me and snuggle -- which I have never let him do since I was nursing. After an hour or so, he was ready for a piece of toast, which he ate with his head on the table. He then requested permission to go back to bed. About twenty minutes later, he screamed and ran to the bathroom. This time he made it to the bathroom but didn't get the toilet lid up in time.

Now, I'm not a mom who takes her kids to the doctor in situations like this usually. I've gone too often before and paid the lovely co-pay and been told there's no problem. And I've been sent home with my face burning in shame over my panic.

However, I vaguely remembered that my doctor had an acute illness clinic before regular hours M-F and mornings on Saturday. I called to verify, only to discover that the acute illness clinic apparently doesn't start until November 1. Bummer.

Since I'd gotten that far, I decided to leave a page for the doctor to get someone's opinion. Thirty seconds later, my phone rang. I spoke to the doctor who suggested bringing him in. I sort of gave a quizzical response, and she informed me that they have an acute illness clinic from 8-11 on Saturdays and it was only 8:42. Huh. Apparently the voicemail message needs to be updated, but I'm good with that.

I felt sort of silly taking him, since he actually was willing to walk into the doctor's office -- versus me carrying him up and down the stairs the past couple days. The doctor saw us within about three minutes and ...

he has bronchitis.

Whoops. Now I feel like a bad mom. How long has he had this (ok, more days than necessary, which is really all that matters, right?), and why didn't I go on Wednesday or Thursday or Friday? Poor kid! No wonder he was so punked out.

Needless to say, I'm feeling really validated by our decision to not head down to St Louis, even though I tried to get the wee ones to make a video to send to their grandparents saying they were sorry they couldn't come and hoped to see them soon. My husband wouldn't let me send it though since they didn't look sick on the video.

So who's placing bets that Little Miss, who has had pneumonia twice (and yes, we have our own nebulizer) will end up with it working its way to her chest now? I know which way I'm leaning.

I am sort of sad that I won't be able to meet "all the hillbilly folks" as my husband described them. Only six other people attending the reunion had I met before, so this would have been interesting one way or the other. I had been planning to bring my camera, too! Next time.

And You Thought I Forgot

Ok, so maybe this week has been a bit chaotic. I have been sick since Monday, Mister Man since Tuesday at 3:30 when he puked all over the gym floor and had to be picked up -- had he waited twenty minutes, he would have been home on the bus! -- and Little Miss since 3:30am Wednesday. Plus, Tuesday was my PTO coffees (am and pm), I worked Wednesday and Thursday, and Wednesday was also our Back To School night. And you wonder why I haven't fully recovered yet (physically or mentally, of course).

Enough whining though.

On Tuesday, I closed the PIF contest. Of course I didn't pick the number until today, but I had fully intended to. Besides, it's ok if you have to wait a couple more days for the anticipation to build, isn't it?

So the winner is comment number 8. Oh wait. That was my comment. Yep, I can't win. Per my rules, I skip over that comment and the next one is the winner. Phew. The Post Office people (as lovely as they truly are at my PO) would certainly have given me an odd look if I mailed a package to myself!

So really, that makes it Irene! Yay!

Bob, tell Irene what she's won.

Well, Michelle, today Irene has just won herself a Dora cup that holds snacks and a drink! It's a Sip and Snack Canteen, the latest product from Zak Designs! (oooooo from the audience):

And that's not all. We're also throwing in two lovely books. As usual, we have found a Sandra Brown book, and we're also tossing in The Stone Diaries! (ooooo, ahhhhhh)



For the smaller members of the family, we're also including 4 Strawberry Shortcake gel pens for each girl. The dollar section at Target had some lovely items this week. (squeals of joy)

And finally, Michelle, Irene will be receiving three blank notecards. These notecards are handmade and have several special embellishments. Irene was so kind as to comment on the thank you cards that some cards simply had to be added into the prize basket. (Oooooooooo)


Michelle, back to you.

Thank you, Bob. Irene, I am sending you an email to get your contact information so I can get these out to you. If I don't hear from you by Tuesday next week, I'll select another winner. Thank you to everyone for playing, and I really appreciate those Disney tips!

And while we're on the subject of contests, this is a perfect contest for Irene except that I'm sure she already has it. The SITS girls are giving away a copy of Photoshop Elements 7 and Photoshop Elements 7: The Missing Manual here.

Shhh! Don't Tell

Do you ever have the urge to mess with people? Or just to pretend you're someone else? Maybe it's just my twisted personality, but when I'm in a situation where I'm never going to see someone again, sometimes I have fun pretending I'm someone entirely different.

I remember when my mom took me to Regina High School for a visit to see if she was going to send me there. Yes, I went to Catholic school up until 8th grade when I refused to go back to the school I had been going to where I would have to take Spanish from a woman who didn't speak it herself among other indignities.

Before I started junior high though, my mom looked into some schools as options for me. Regina, shockingly an all girls school, was one of those.

For some reason, I pretended my name was Stephanie. I loved the name at the time (and I'm still a fan now). I told everyone I introduced myself to that I was Stephanie. I wrote it on my nametag. I had glorious tales about myself and how I loved to sing in the choir and was really interested in history and all sorts of things that nuns love to hear.

And would never suspect to be false.

All was going well until the principal Sister ummm Someone (like I said -- people I'm never going to see again. Sue me, I don't remember her name) walked up to my mom and started talking to her. I didn't notice the conversation at the time, or I might have intervened.

The sister talked to my mom about her daughter Stephanie and how wonderful she was and how great it would be to have such an addition to the choir at the school and how excited she was to have such a great student coming.

My mom is quite polite. Picture Donna Reed (including the pearls and flip hairdo), and you've envisioned my mom. The poor woman kept trying to tell the sister that she had the wrong family, but to no avail.

The sister finally pointed me out, and it clicked in my mom's head. All I know is that I heard a very shrill "STEPHANIE" in my mom's voice. I froze and turned my head only to get the death look.

My mom politely smiled at the sister, and thanked her for her time. She marched over to me, grabbed me in the meat of my arm with a pincer grasp and dragged me out of the school building, muttering at me through her gritted smile.

Oddly, Regina was never an option going forward. Instead I stayed at my tiny local parish school for another year and then ventured into the public school system. After the tongue lashing I got and punishment so horrible I've blocked it from my mind, you'd think that I'd have learned.

But nope. On airplanes I'll pretend to be an architecture professor from Ohio State. Or at a play, I'm Sara with my husband Bobby. Sometimes, it's just fun to step into other people's shoes. I just make sure that my mom's not around when I do it now!

Out Of Touch

This is going to be really short, as I have a massive headache (thank you, sinus infection) but somehow my life doesn't feel complete without posting something. How wrong is that?

Anyway, Mayor Daley has always been a bit of a clown in Chicago. He wields great power and has been mayor for years, but really stupid things sometimes happen on his watch. You should go Google his quotes sometime. He's got some doozies out there.

And the foie gras ban happened on his watch. And he bulldozed an airport in the middle of the night by putting big X's on the runways. Bye-bye Meigs Field!

But the latest one really has me cracking up.

I'm sure most of you have been to a sporting event at one point or another. And while there, many of you may have imbibed. Just a little, of course; you wouldn't want to overdo it. And maybe a few of you have even happened into a bar to watch a game where some imbibing occurred.

When you go to the game, they cut off alcohol sales near the end of the game (middle of the seventh inning for baseball, end of the third quarter for football, and end of the second intermission in hockey -- no, I don't do basketball so I have no idea). That makes sense to me, as when the game ends, they pretty much herd you out of there and you head on home, frequently by car. We don't want drunk drivers, so cut off the drinking. That makes complete sense to me.

Now let's pretend you're in a bar. You're watching the game. The game ends. Your team won -- or maybe it didn't win. Me, I don't immediately leave. It's a bar, and I'm having fun hanging out with my friends. We don't leave immediately.

Besides, not everyone in the bar is there for the game, right? Some people are just here in the bar in general. This is why they don't stop liquor sales in bars until closing time.

Except in Chicago. When a Chicago team is playing a series clinching game. On the north side (apparently this doesn't apply to bars where Sox fans are hanging out).

Yeah, the bars in Wrigleyville have agreed (one owner put it that there wasn't much of a choice) to cut off alcohol sales in the seventh inning of any clinching game. Mayor Daley's argument is that the bars have made enough money already. Really? Since when did he become the arbiter of appropriate profit? And our kindergarten teacher?

I'm all for no drunk driving (or even driving after drinking in general, regardless of the BAC). However, bars 365 days a year are required to monitor their patrons and not overserve anyone. Now, on the nights that they can make their largest profits of the year -- in a bad economy -- the city has essentially forced them to cut off the patrons.

Raise your hand if you see lots of hoarding and drinks slammed just before the seventh inning. Keep your hand up if you see that potentially creating a worse problem. Yeah, me, too. Way to solve a problem that didn't exist, Mayor Daley.

The good news is that after the game is over, the bars can resume alcohol sales. Wait, huh?

Of course, given that the last I heard the Cubs are down 6-2 in the first game that was the one game they were "sure to win" maybe this won't be an issue after all. It sure would be a shame if they were swept out of the playoffs for a second year in a row (says the not at all disappointed Twins fan).