It seems a little silly and irresponsible to be posting about an expensive tea set that I foolishly bought for Baby Bug a day after I post about my family’s financial troubles but… well, I have no excuse. I shouldn’t have bought it. It was just so cute though.

It was supposed to be a birthday present. See the candles? How perfect for a birthday! But then it was back ordered and I forgot about it. Then after Baby Bug’s birthday, Oompa emailed me saying it was back in stock and click click click I bought it online before my rational judgement could set in. It really is true that Mommy bloggers are a major sector of the online consumer market. It’s just too easy.

So here we are today feeling guilty for spending $45 ($50-something with shipping) on a wee little wooden tea set that Baby Bug does NOT need… How many tea sets does she have now? Three?!!! BUT ISN’T IT CUTE?!!! Doesn’t it just give you a toothache looking at the little flower spoons that scoop up the wee little sugar cubes!!! Oh my goodness, I love this tea set. It is totally worth the fifty big ones I slaved away all night to earn.

The question is, who likes this tea set more? Baby Bug or me? Hmph. Baby Bug seemed to really like the candles that you can put in and out of the little slices of wooden cake. In fact, they were a bit of a problem because they are REALLY LITTLE! Like tiny enough to put up your nose and end up in the ER with. Not that that happened (it didn’t) but I am aware of their dangerous potential.

Thankfully Baby Bug is mostly past the putting everything in her mouth stage (and not quite to the putting-everything-up-your-nose stage yet) but I decided right then and there that this is a toy that stays in its box and gets put away after we’re done with it. Mostly because I think it would hurt me a little bit if we lost a piece. I need to re-think this gift. Maybe it is more for me.

It says on the box for ages four and up. OR you could be like me and read that little symbol to say “Fun for Four or MORE!!!” Wooo Hoooo bring on the party! Oh, there are only two tea cups. Oh well. We can share. One sugar cube for you, one sugar cube for me, lah-di-dah-dee. But really I think they are right on this one. The parts are way smaller than I expected.

It would probably be a perfect gift for my five-year-old niece who likes to play restaurant and pretend to be a waitress every day (and don’t get me wrong… she’s totally doing calculus on the side of her order-taking ticket book). But on the other hand I think by the time Baby Bug is five she will be bored with this set in about five minutes. She’s going to be playing with her chemistry set by then, don’t you know? So these age instructions are a bit tricky. I think this toy will be perfect for Baby Bug in a year or two but between then and now it will be perfect for US to play together.

Cheers!

I’ve had a post on my heart for months now. I’m not exactly sure how to write it. I’m not even sure if I should write it. It’s one of those things that is so close to home that I just can’t see the forrest for the trees. And it involves my family and maybe they don’t want me to write it. Maybe I need to respect their privacy. But at the same time it’s really hard for me to sit by and say nothing.

As you may know… times are tough. My brother is unemployed and has been on and off for as long as I can remember. He’s moved in and out of my mom’s house so many times, nobody keeps track any more. My brother also has two beautiful daughters and an amazing wife*. They are riding this roller coaster life with him. I don’t know what to say about why this happens. I don’t want to judge his decisions in life, although I am the big sister so of course I have a million nosy opinions that are not that appreciated I’m sure. I just know that it hurts. It hurts everybody.

It comes in handy when I’m walking out of the grocery store and somebody holds out a can asking me to donate money to this cause or that. I can look them in the eye and say with a clear conscience, “I have my own charity, thank you. I’m trying to keep my own family off the streets.” And it’s true. I am. But I’m not. Not in a way that is making enough of a difference anyway.

You see, I’ve been scraping by all my life to escape the poverty I grew up in. All my growing up years my Dad pounded into my head that I had to go to college so I could live a life that was better than his. Every time a collection agency called and I had to close the bedroom door so I didn’t have to listen to my mom sobbing, I became more and more resolute that I would not live this way. My dream in life was not to live in a fancy house or drive a fancy car. I dreamed of not having to worry about money. That was my dream.

In a way my dream came true. I was lucky. I was blessed. And I also worked really really hard. I graduated from college and found work that paid well. I learned to live below my means and that was probably the best lesson I ever learned. Then I met Toby and together we finally figured out a way that I could be a mom and not have to work (though it’s like pulling teeth to get me to stop).

But even though I’ve managed to pull myself to the other side of the poverty line, my heart is still very much tied down to it. In order to escape I cannot always help my family out when they are in need. If I helped out financially as much as there is need, I would still be stuck. The pit of need is so deep there is no hope of ever filling it. We would all be pulled down to the lowest common denominator. We don’t all live out of the same pot. We are not communist.

I also have to think of the future. I know things are going to get worse. The real estate crash is just starting to rear it’s ugly head and soon California is going to be in a depression. Not to be an alarmist but we have to be smart. We can’t just let history broadside us.

I know my parents health is going to steadily decline. I don’t mean to be a pessimist but I know the odds of someone being struck with cancer or some other deadly disease is very likely. If we’re smart we should almost just start planning for these things. Not to create a self-fulfilling prophecy but to just save money like crazy. It only takes one snowball to roll you under.

I don’t know exactly what to do. I wrack my brain daily with ways to save my family. My brother is about to be evicted from his apartment and will probably have to live in a shelter. This is not the end of the world. Maybe once he is actually “homeless” he will finally be taken seriously enough by the paper-pushers that run government aid programs. Maybe they will get a social worker who actually can help them for a change.

Even though it’s a really bad idea (for my parents who are struggling and have no hope of retiring until they are 104), my mom’s house is still open to my brother and his family. My nieces can stay there any time. There is always enough love to go around. There just isn’t enough money.

Where do I come into this picture? I don’t know. I’m constantly trying to think of money-making ideas for them. My brain is spinning a mile-a-minute all the time. It’s almost an obsession for me.

We visited a screen printing shop over the weekend (I’m trying to get some Gumball t-shirts printed) and immediately I fell in love with the idea of buying the business from the old man who was running it. Of course this is silly because A. I do not have the kind of money it takes to buy a business and B. I don’t think it was for sale.

How fun would that be though? I could make the designs. My mom and my sister-in-law could run the office. My brother could do the manual labor and keep the machines running. I could make every kind of t-shirt I ever desired! Of course my brain immediately started day-dreaming about painting the little shop and what kind of landscaping it needed because I am just so out of touch with reality when I dream…

It probably will never happen. It will get cast aside like the other five-thousand-and-nine ideas I’ve come up with. There is no easy way to get rich quick. I know absolutely nothing about the screen printing business. I don’t know what kind of overhead a business like that would have. If some punk rock kids could become millionaires printing t-shirts out of the back of their van, could we do it too? I probably will never know. It’s too big of a risk. But it’s an idea.

Fortunately, unlike money, ideas do grow on trees.

*Yes! Please do click on her site. She has ads and every little bit helps.

Living Room Waltz from secretagentjo on Vimeo.

A little something until I write the big pot of post that has been stewing in my head…

This movie makes me happy because 1. I love the song. 2. I was having a rare good hair day (Whoorl didn’t tell me this texturizing business would require regular UPKEEP! Ack!) and 3. It makes me proud to be a mom.