So, a friend of mine told me last week that I could save quite a bit on my electric bill if I started doing laundry and running the dishwasher during off-peak hours. Here's how my experimental week went:
Sunday Night - towels in washer and washing during off-peak hours. Yeah Me! That was easy. Dishwasher set and ready to go with delayed start. Yeah Me again! At this rate, the electric company will be paying me to use their electricity.
Monday Morning - go to fold clothes in dryer and move clothes from washer to dryer. Then remember new plan, so decide to leave everything alone. I can fold the clothes tonight, right?
Monday Night - getting kids back into routine is hard, really hard. We have a little homework, a lot of paperwork...let's get the dishes into the dishwasher and get to bed - after we read our required 20 minutes.
Tuesday Morning - no laundry, it's peak time!
Tuesday Night - ewww!!! Wet towels need to be re-washed. Load dishwasher, set it for time delay right before going to bed.
Wednesday Morning - oh, thunderstorm during night caused brief power outage, resulting in dishwasher being turned off. Dishes are still dirty and must wash, even though peak time. Bummer.
Wednesday Night - meeting at school, but cannot leave towels until tomorrow. Throw clean but now wrinkled clothes that have been in the dryer onto the top of the washer and finally dry towels. It was a good tv night, so I would much rather watch my DVRed shows than go upstairs and get a load of laundry to wash. Besides, I just tucked the kids in and wouldn't want to disturb them.
Thursday Night - Don has a dinner meeting. We have spelling tests and French tests to study for. Who has time for laundry?
Friday Morning - youngest cannot find clean underwear...this new system isn't working. Peak consumption be damned! I've got laundry to do - all day! I'll just wash in cold water instead:)
PS Everyday I try to remember to thank God for creating people smarter than me to invent things like electricity, automatic washing machines and clothes dryers. Without these things, my children would wear even dirtier clothes...
My family recently moved from the Boston area to the Greater Toronto Area (GTA)...here I will attempt to chronicle our adventures (and misadventures) as Americans in the Great White North...
Friday, September 24, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
A-Weigh I Go
I am on a diet. Well, maybe not really a diet. I'm on a quest to fit into all the clothes in my closet that are too snug right now. I'm trying to eat better and exercise more. And lose the flabby upper arms and avoid the old lady "extra wave" that occurs every time she waves her hand and her upper arm continues to wave for 30+ seconds.
I weigh myself nearly everyday. I wrote down my weight in a little notebook. One month per page, days 1-15 in one column (16 if there were 31 days in the month, 14 if it was February and not a leap year) and 16-30 in the other column (17-31..well, you get the picture). I still have the notebook. It dates back to 1991, I think. The bummer is, the point where I was at my lowest weight I didn't record it. I was a little over-stressed and weighing myself didn't even register as a "to do" item.
Well, I used to weigh myself everyday. Back when my scales worked. Then the battery died, I gain some weight and I didn't want to know how much I weighed. I bought a fancy scale that measures body fat and tracks your weight and three other people's weights (note to bookclub: that might have been handy one night when we drank more wine and discussed way more than books). It's so complicated that I have to get the owner's manual out just to figure out how much I weigh. I decided to go "old school". I've given up my older, digital scales that required a battery (because I keep buying the wrong size). I've also given up the fancy one that I've owned for 6 years and never figured out how to use. I'm going old school with a scales that only requires me to step on it. No tap to turn it on, no instant read weight. No BMI. No 30 day history of weight. Just a scales I step on and the dial swings ominously as my weight is determined. It's like the Wheel of Fortune wheel or the Price Is Right Showcase Showdown wheel. Where will the final number stop? Is the low number just a teaser? Is the high number that it jumps to before it settles on a slightly lower one just a reminder that "Hey girlfriend, that will be your weight if you don't step away from the chips?" Yep, old school scales are so much easier. Scales, paper, pencil. History of my weight. The high, the low, the acceptable.
And now, I'm off to bed because I did The Biggest Loser Body Sculpting DVD earlier today and I'm beat!
I weigh myself nearly everyday. I wrote down my weight in a little notebook. One month per page, days 1-15 in one column (16 if there were 31 days in the month, 14 if it was February and not a leap year) and 16-30 in the other column (17-31..well, you get the picture). I still have the notebook. It dates back to 1991, I think. The bummer is, the point where I was at my lowest weight I didn't record it. I was a little over-stressed and weighing myself didn't even register as a "to do" item.
Well, I used to weigh myself everyday. Back when my scales worked. Then the battery died, I gain some weight and I didn't want to know how much I weighed. I bought a fancy scale that measures body fat and tracks your weight and three other people's weights (note to bookclub: that might have been handy one night when we drank more wine and discussed way more than books). It's so complicated that I have to get the owner's manual out just to figure out how much I weigh. I decided to go "old school". I've given up my older, digital scales that required a battery (because I keep buying the wrong size). I've also given up the fancy one that I've owned for 6 years and never figured out how to use. I'm going old school with a scales that only requires me to step on it. No tap to turn it on, no instant read weight. No BMI. No 30 day history of weight. Just a scales I step on and the dial swings ominously as my weight is determined. It's like the Wheel of Fortune wheel or the Price Is Right Showcase Showdown wheel. Where will the final number stop? Is the low number just a teaser? Is the high number that it jumps to before it settles on a slightly lower one just a reminder that "Hey girlfriend, that will be your weight if you don't step away from the chips?" Yep, old school scales are so much easier. Scales, paper, pencil. History of my weight. The high, the low, the acceptable.
And now, I'm off to bed because I did The Biggest Loser Body Sculpting DVD earlier today and I'm beat!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Randomness
Today I did a little yoga video with a few friends. And now, I hurt. In places I didn't think I could hurt. Like my feet. Seriously. My feet. It's that downward dog thing. And the other one that requires me to lay on my stomach and the lift up my torso and thighs. That's a lot of pressure on the tops of my feet. I may or may not be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning.
Baseball for the boys resumes tomorrow after a summer break. Hat? Check. Pants? Check. Shirt? Hmm...I think that's a check. Baseball Glove? No where to be found. I've searched and searched and searched the house, the garage, and the yard. It hasn't been found yet. This is a problem. Why do they give the kids the summer off anyway? So they can lose their stuff. That's my theory.
And on the topic of baseball, I'm hoping that scientists soon confirm my theory that baseball caps are capable of reproduction. In my search for the baseball glove, I didn't find the glove, but I did find four baseball caps throughout the house. And that doesn't count the caps that are actually hanging where they belong.
You many wonder why my post is so discombobulated today. Well, for one thing, my blogging inspiration, The Pioneer Woman, wrote a list of ten tips for bloggers and aspiring bloggers. One tip was to keep writing, even if it was just something short. So, here you go. The second reason my post is discombobulated is because after the whole yoga thing, my brain feels a bit discombobulated too.
And now, I'm hobbling off to bed with dreams of being able to spring out of bed in the morning.
Baseball for the boys resumes tomorrow after a summer break. Hat? Check. Pants? Check. Shirt? Hmm...I think that's a check. Baseball Glove? No where to be found. I've searched and searched and searched the house, the garage, and the yard. It hasn't been found yet. This is a problem. Why do they give the kids the summer off anyway? So they can lose their stuff. That's my theory.
And on the topic of baseball, I'm hoping that scientists soon confirm my theory that baseball caps are capable of reproduction. In my search for the baseball glove, I didn't find the glove, but I did find four baseball caps throughout the house. And that doesn't count the caps that are actually hanging where they belong.
You many wonder why my post is so discombobulated today. Well, for one thing, my blogging inspiration, The Pioneer Woman, wrote a list of ten tips for bloggers and aspiring bloggers. One tip was to keep writing, even if it was just something short. So, here you go. The second reason my post is discombobulated is because after the whole yoga thing, my brain feels a bit discombobulated too.
And now, I'm hobbling off to bed with dreams of being able to spring out of bed in the morning.
Monday, August 30, 2010
It's The Most Wonderful Time of The Year
I'm almost ready to turn the calendar page to September - my favorite time of year. I love back-to-school season. I loved school when I was a kid - perhaps it's because I grew up in the country and lived pretty far from most of the kids my age.
I loved going to school.
I loved learning.
I loved reading.
I still love learning and reading.
I love freshly sharpened pencils.
I love to open a brand new box of Crayola crayons.
I love the smell of paste (do they even make paste today? I never understood the kids who ate it, but I definitely loved the smell - just not in an appetite-stimulating sort of way).
I really love new tennis shoes...no scuffs, no dirt...I take a picture of my kids' new school shoes every year.
I love that Halloween is right around the corner.
I love the incredible colors as the leaves change.
I love the crispness in the air.
I think the thing I love most about back-to-school is that it's an opportunity to start fresh again. I like it better than New Year's Day. New Year's Day is all post-holiday let down, post-overindulgence of food and beverage, post-too-much-family, -too-much-travel, -too-many-parties, -too-much-money-spent, etc., etc. When I flip the calendar from December to January, I'm still living too clearly in the past...all those "posts" are still fresh in my mind, my clothes are still too snug, the holiday spending bills are just being received, my lost luggage is just being returned by the airlines. January is a clean month, but there's all those leftovers to deal with.
But September...that's a different story. September follows a glorious summer of fun. Even when I was working full time and didn't have children, summer was fun. Week-ends away, a vacation to visit family. FUN! When I flip my calendar to September, it's really a chance to start fresh. There aren't as many leftovers in my life. I buy a new calendar. I set new goals. I start fresh. It's a new year in my mind.
So here's to Fall! Here's to the kids going back to school! Here's to me taking a writing class! Here's to a new plan for getting in shape, organizing some closets, finishing some scrapbooks and enjoying life! Happy Back-to-School!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Pop Quiz
It's back to school time for some (not us, of course...we go back September 7th), so in the back-to-school spirit, I thought I would spring a pop quiz on my small readership. Good luck, and may the force be with you:)
1. There is supposed to be a photo here, but it didn't really turn out, so picture this in your mind: kitchen table with three cereal bowls and an opened box of Fruit Loops, floor littered with Fruit Loops - some whole, some crushed - at 8:30 Monday morning. What was the last date that I vacuumed this floor?
A. Sunday evening, after everyone had gone to bed.
B. The last day of school, June 28th.
C. 11:00 Friday morning...I vacuum the same day and time every week.
2. Who was eating breakfast at this table?
A. Pigs
B. People
C. Little People
3. At one time was the floor vacuumed again?
A. It hasn't been. It looks the same.
B. 8:35 a.m Monday
C. It hasn't been yet because I'll vacuum again at 11:00 on Friday morning, just like always.
D. It hasn't been vacuumed, but it looks like it since the dogs cleaned up the Fruit Loops for me.
4. The photo below (ok, again, picture is not that great, so visualize it, please) is a paper chain we made to count down the days until school starts. This is clearly an example of:
A. A mother who has way too much time on her hands.
B. Children who are ready to go back to school and ask on a daily basis how many days until school starts again.
C. A desperate cry for help.
5. The paper chain was made:
A. by the children, all by themselves.
B. me cutting the paper with my paper cutter so that all rings were the same width and length, then the kiddos stapling and labeling the rings.
C. solely by me because I'm such a control freak.
D. same as B, but the fact that the numbering is all wrong is making me completely crazy.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Rainy Days & Mondays Always Get Me Down
Rainy Days & Mondays Always Get Me Down....not exactly true, but this rainy Monday has.
I'm feeling a bit homesick. I miss walking out my front door and seeing someone I know and having a pleasant conversation about kids, the real estate market, renovations, and what new stores are in Linden Square. Here, I walk out my front door to an empty front yard and a quiet neighborhood. I miss having the neighbor kids walk right in without even ringing the bell because they feel at home here. I miss having an impromptu cookout in the driveway on a Friday afternoon. I miss my friends.
To add insult to the homesick injury, I learned today that the people who bought our house have trimmed the front yard tree and removed the tree swing. I know. I know. It's not my house anymore, it's theirs. And since it's their house, they can do what they want. I know. I know. It's perfectly reasonable. But still. The tree swing. The tree swing...we required the boys to wear a bicycle helmet when swinging so they wouldn't hurt their head while swinging when they were really little. The tree swing...where the neighborhood kids would line up and wait patiently for their turn to go "really high" and have a "super duper spin" when Don gave them a push. The tree swing...where all the great summer memories started and where fall would wrap up with one last swing. The tree swing...where even the mommies would take a little break and go for a swing. It's a loss for the neighborhood, but an even bigger loss for the new people....they will miss out on so much fun.
I am certain that the sun will come out tomorrow, we will meet more people, and turn this house into our home full of memories...but for now, I'm feeling a bit lost.
I'm feeling a bit homesick. I miss walking out my front door and seeing someone I know and having a pleasant conversation about kids, the real estate market, renovations, and what new stores are in Linden Square. Here, I walk out my front door to an empty front yard and a quiet neighborhood. I miss having the neighbor kids walk right in without even ringing the bell because they feel at home here. I miss having an impromptu cookout in the driveway on a Friday afternoon. I miss my friends.
To add insult to the homesick injury, I learned today that the people who bought our house have trimmed the front yard tree and removed the tree swing. I know. I know. It's not my house anymore, it's theirs. And since it's their house, they can do what they want. I know. I know. It's perfectly reasonable. But still. The tree swing. The tree swing...we required the boys to wear a bicycle helmet when swinging so they wouldn't hurt their head while swinging when they were really little. The tree swing...where the neighborhood kids would line up and wait patiently for their turn to go "really high" and have a "super duper spin" when Don gave them a push. The tree swing...where all the great summer memories started and where fall would wrap up with one last swing. The tree swing...where even the mommies would take a little break and go for a swing. It's a loss for the neighborhood, but an even bigger loss for the new people....they will miss out on so much fun.
I am certain that the sun will come out tomorrow, we will meet more people, and turn this house into our home full of memories...but for now, I'm feeling a bit lost.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
No Comment...or if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all
I'm baaaaccckkkk. Sorry, it's been awhile. Vacation will do that to you. Or is it really vacation if you spend the entire time at your in-laws, making your own bed, refereeing your children, doing laundry...it seems to me it's just same stuff, different location. I think I read once, "Same circus, different tent."
Anyway, I was avoiding cleaning and organizing the craft room for another day by trying to catch up on US news on the New York Times website. And it happened again, I read one tiny article (this one on the new movie starring Annette Bening and Julianne Moore)...and spent the better part of an hour reading all the readers' commentary that followed. People are frightening. The hatred and vitriol that is spewed in these comments are awful.
Then, I was checking Facebook to see if my friends are doing more exciting and fun things than I am (which, of course, they are - people are on the Cape, snapping adorable pictures of their cute little munchkins while I am at home refereeing my children), when I saw a post from Lands' End announcing a "Design a Tshirt" contest for kids. Seems innocent enough, doesn't it? Yeah, you would think so. But, you would think wrong. Canadians are complaining because they aren't allowed to participate (and I join those complaints, silently of course, because it just doesn't seem right - I am still an American). Home schoolers are questioning what happens to the prize money if their cherub wins, since the prize is to be awarded to the art department of the child's school. Parents of younger children (age 2-3) complain because their children aren't eligible - this is direct quote: "There are some really smart and talented kids their age, too. It's amazing what having artistically talented and educated parents that are involved can do for a young child." - seriously, get over your artistically talented and educated self (and by the way, I'm not a grammar expert, but I think it should read "who" not "that"). Those over the age of 14 complain because they are too old to participate. And then there's the whole group of smarty pants who are quick to point out that penguins live in the ANTartic, not the Artic. Umm....people? it's a drawing contest for children. Have your little mini-Van Gogh whip out his/her Crayolas and draw a cute little picture and mail it in. Shut up already. If you have that much time on your hands, book a trip to the Gulf and go wash the oil off a couple of birds.
Anyway, I was avoiding cleaning and organizing the craft room for another day by trying to catch up on US news on the New York Times website. And it happened again, I read one tiny article (this one on the new movie starring Annette Bening and Julianne Moore)...and spent the better part of an hour reading all the readers' commentary that followed. People are frightening. The hatred and vitriol that is spewed in these comments are awful.
Then, I was checking Facebook to see if my friends are doing more exciting and fun things than I am (which, of course, they are - people are on the Cape, snapping adorable pictures of their cute little munchkins while I am at home refereeing my children), when I saw a post from Lands' End announcing a "Design a Tshirt" contest for kids. Seems innocent enough, doesn't it? Yeah, you would think so. But, you would think wrong. Canadians are complaining because they aren't allowed to participate (and I join those complaints, silently of course, because it just doesn't seem right - I am still an American). Home schoolers are questioning what happens to the prize money if their cherub wins, since the prize is to be awarded to the art department of the child's school. Parents of younger children (age 2-3) complain because their children aren't eligible - this is direct quote: "There are some really smart and talented kids their age, too. It's amazing what having artistically talented and educated parents that are involved can do for a young child." - seriously, get over your artistically talented and educated self (and by the way, I'm not a grammar expert, but I think it should read "who" not "that"). Those over the age of 14 complain because they are too old to participate. And then there's the whole group of smarty pants who are quick to point out that penguins live in the ANTartic, not the Artic. Umm....people? it's a drawing contest for children. Have your little mini-Van Gogh whip out his/her Crayolas and draw a cute little picture and mail it in. Shut up already. If you have that much time on your hands, book a trip to the Gulf and go wash the oil off a couple of birds.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)