I'll admit up front that this will be obnoxious and hypocritical. Now, with this disclaimer in place, let me brag about my first foray into "saving more than you spend" CVSing.
My purchases:
Two Puffs brand tissue boxes at 99 cents each
One 12 count Charmin at 9.99 - 1.00 coupon
One 12 count Bounty Paper Towels at 12.99
Minus
7.99 rebate from prior purchase on Blink Tears
2.50 rebate from prior purchase on Glide floss
$4 off $20 purchase CVS coupon
Grand total: $10.94 out of pocket
But wait, there's more! We earned $10 extra bucks from purchasing $25 in P&G products (the tissue, paper towels, and TP before coupons/rebates). Woot, woot.
I get it now. We also have another $4 off our next $20 purchase.
So... in essence we 'spent' .94 cents with the $10 extra bucks. So we have $14 'bucks' to spend. :) I don't mind spending $6 bucks for a whole bunch of stuff we consume. Especially if with a rebate the item will be 'free'. (I do realize that our level of consumption is sick compared with those people who live ANYWHERE outside the U.S., but I digress.)
I also did a BOGO on deordorant at Publix and with my $3 off 2 sticks, I paid .50 each! I also got a free 3 pack of Pampers wipes with a value pack which I had a $3 coupon on. I spent $17 for the 76 count Pamper pack with a 'free' 216 count wipe pack. Yes, I do know how many wipes and dipes I'm getting. This is serious.
Alex did this last week at CVS and got eye drops, Pampers, wipes, floss and with his CVS extra bucks and rebates he had to buy some candy because you can't be given money back!
Word. Live and learn. And don't knock those crazy couponers.
I'm sorry, couponers. I put my hand to my mouth and lower my head in penance. I was wrong.
Coupons work for me.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Mom Monday
I love the expressions in these last two shots. Guileless. Sarah is now 7 months. She has been sitting up since 5 months and seems on the verge of crawling. Her first upper tooth has cut the surface in the last two weeks. She is really babbling now, and making the 'da' sound. She inhales her jar food and can pick up puffed rice with her fists.
Jay has his open house tomorrow. I say that owning up to the fact that I used to think preschool for children under the age of five was absurd. I was wrong. Mea culpa. Well, it is a luxury, and certainly he'd be just fine without it, but I'm really glad for him and for me. I look forward to him making some buddies and having a little world of his own. He can count to 14, and recognizes some letters and sings parts of the alphabet song. He can recognize red, green, blue, orange, and pink. His most frequent sentences are: "I get the car," "Want it," and "More Toy Story." I'm working on scaling back the cartoons. It's hard!
He remembers a lot more than I would imagine. We've been to the car dealership 3 times this year for maintanience and he knows that there is a cart that should have popcorn. There was none made this visit and he inquired about it no less than 50 times. We pumped the snack machine with money twice. We also checked out the Z370 convertible.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Ms. Neal and the Easter Bunny Basket
Here's my Flashback Friday...
I'm a big reminisce-er. As my little one begins his long sojourn in education (or plays puzzles and eats snack with other two year olds), I'm reminded of my wild elementary school days. I'm sure they (the college of education) tell young elementary teachers that they must scare motormouths into compliance. I once was a motormouth, but the system broke me. I know that is harsh, and I love teachers (and I am one), but it seems to me that all my primary school teachers wanted me to sit down and hush up. I didn't get my "All A" hat in third grade because Ms. Ford gave me a C in conduct. Because I talked in line. I'm working through it.
Which brings me to Ms. Neal. My first grade teacher. Me: pale little white girl. Scared during the meet and greet time at big church. Ms. Neal: large and in charge. Gregarious, single, black lady (is it okay not to say African American? 'cause I don't think Ms. Neal would mind). Now, as a first grade teacher, I know Ms. Neal was kind and patient. But I have three strong memories of her. One was when I told my mom that it was MISS Neal, not MISSUS Neal. That was important to her. Second, I still have my Christmas ornament, a picture of me and Ms. Neal, framed in green felt, that still hangs on my parents' tree each year.
But the stand out memory is the bunny basket.
For some reason, I did not want to bring in a empty, 2 gallon milk jug to cover with pink cotton balls for some Easter celebration. Day after day passed and I did not bring in my bunny jug. Finally, Ms. Neal made me STAY BACK from recess to decorate a jug she provided. I don't know why this stays with me. Maybe bunny jugs are a 1st grade standard. A rite of passage. I don't know. This was my first foray into getting on the teacher's list. A rebel at six.
I'm a rule follower. Just don't make me craft. Unless you're MISS Neal.
Sending lots of love and pink cotton balls wishes out there to all the hard-working, grief-taking, under-paid, under-appreciated, but very needed and truly heroic teachers. May your tribe increase.
I'm a big reminisce-er. As my little one begins his long sojourn in education (or plays puzzles and eats snack with other two year olds), I'm reminded of my wild elementary school days. I'm sure they (the college of education) tell young elementary teachers that they must scare motormouths into compliance. I once was a motormouth, but the system broke me. I know that is harsh, and I love teachers (and I am one), but it seems to me that all my primary school teachers wanted me to sit down and hush up. I didn't get my "All A" hat in third grade because Ms. Ford gave me a C in conduct. Because I talked in line. I'm working through it.
Which brings me to Ms. Neal. My first grade teacher. Me: pale little white girl. Scared during the meet and greet time at big church. Ms. Neal: large and in charge. Gregarious, single, black lady (is it okay not to say African American? 'cause I don't think Ms. Neal would mind). Now, as a first grade teacher, I know Ms. Neal was kind and patient. But I have three strong memories of her. One was when I told my mom that it was MISS Neal, not MISSUS Neal. That was important to her. Second, I still have my Christmas ornament, a picture of me and Ms. Neal, framed in green felt, that still hangs on my parents' tree each year.
But the stand out memory is the bunny basket.
For some reason, I did not want to bring in a empty, 2 gallon milk jug to cover with pink cotton balls for some Easter celebration. Day after day passed and I did not bring in my bunny jug. Finally, Ms. Neal made me STAY BACK from recess to decorate a jug she provided. I don't know why this stays with me. Maybe bunny jugs are a 1st grade standard. A rite of passage. I don't know. This was my first foray into getting on the teacher's list. A rebel at six.
I'm a rule follower. Just don't make me craft. Unless you're MISS Neal.
Sending lots of love and pink cotton balls wishes out there to all the hard-working, grief-taking, under-paid, under-appreciated, but very needed and truly heroic teachers. May your tribe increase.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Works for Me...
I haven't posted anything lately and I know all three of you missed me. :0 ) I have a friend who writes a funny blog Monday through Friday with each day on a theme. So today, I'll do a "Works For Me" Wednesday. Maybe I can keep it up Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
The backstory:
Ever since I graced my first maternity store, I've been wearing a half camisole under my shirts because 1) most maternity tops are low cut and 2) everything expands during pregnancy. The brand I found in the store, Noppies, is a European brand and about $30 for one camisole. I haven't be able to find another similar camisole until NOW. I've found that I still wear my camisole every. single. day. and its getting a little sad looking. I think I will need extra 'help' with my underpinnings all the days of my life. Here's my find.
The Bandini by Barely There, sold at Kohl's at about$ 16 for a two pack. Comes in various colors (black and neutral are best) and though it is marketed as a alternative for your traditional support garment (SG), I highly recommend it in addition to said garment. I think they are snug, so buy one size up for the recommend size on the package. They run XS to XL. I still have about 15 S.G.s that I need to burn because they are useless, but that's neither here nor there.
Since I'm on a roll, here's the sweet little preschool backpack I bought Jay. I know. He's two. He's too young for a pencil pouch and protractor. But if you've got to carry your own underpants, you might as well look good doing it.
The backstory:
Ever since I graced my first maternity store, I've been wearing a half camisole under my shirts because 1) most maternity tops are low cut and 2) everything expands during pregnancy. The brand I found in the store, Noppies, is a European brand and about $30 for one camisole. I haven't be able to find another similar camisole until NOW. I've found that I still wear my camisole every. single. day. and its getting a little sad looking. I think I will need extra 'help' with my underpinnings all the days of my life. Here's my find.
The Bandini by Barely There, sold at Kohl's at about$ 16 for a two pack. Comes in various colors (black and neutral are best) and though it is marketed as a alternative for your traditional support garment (SG), I highly recommend it in addition to said garment. I think they are snug, so buy one size up for the recommend size on the package. They run XS to XL. I still have about 15 S.G.s that I need to burn because they are useless, but that's neither here nor there.
Secondly, I made some delicious cheese and chocolate fondue for my birthday. Both are simple recipes. The Gruyere cheese is a little high flutin', but the end result is worth it. Oh, so good. I ate the leftovers at breakfast, lunch, and dinner the next day. Obviously, my wistfulness for toned arms is not a serious goal yet.
Since I'm on a roll, here's the sweet little preschool backpack I bought Jay. I know. He's two. He's too young for a pencil pouch and protractor. But if you've got to carry your own underpants, you might as well look good doing it.
Bras, fondue, and backpacks. It's a good thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)