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Free Advice Friday! Primping in Poverty

Dear Kim,

I’m a stay at home mom and our family is on a tight budget. My husband and I are trying to figure out where we can save money. He’s suggested that I start doing my own nails and hair, but those are the only things I do for ME. I really don’t want to give that up. What do you think? Should I “take one for the team”?

Sincerely,

Primping in Poverty

 

 

Dear Primping,

OH HELL NO! Tell Doug (that’s the name I’ve given him) that every mommy needs that little bit of pampering, it makes all the slave-like duties seem tolerable.

Is there something else you could give up? Heat? Hot water? Besides, if you start doing your own nails and hair, it’ll look like shit,—-> you’ll feel unsexy —->Douggie poo won’t be gettin’ any (granted, this argument only works if he’s gettin’ some now).

Let me tell you what happened when I tried to save a buck on my body. Consider it a cautionary tale:

My nails:

When I was in college, I once applied my own acrylic nails in an attempt to save some money. I have to say, they looked pretty damn good as I have an artist’s touch…but what I didn’t have was quality glue. At the time, I was working at Candy Kitchen and in charge of the Swedish Fish…the red Swedish Fish…I wore red nail polish…do you see where this is heading? The first time I dug into those fish and pulled my hand out, I was missing a nail. So I dug in again, hoping to retrieve it, only to lose another one. This went on until the fish were wearing a full set.

You’re probably thinking “oh, I see, saving a buck cost you your job.” No, I never told anyone…but the guilt haunted me for several minutes.

 

My hair:

I was tired of paying a stylist tons of money to apply color to my hair, after all, how hard could it be? So I went to the drug store and purchased a dark brown color( because I wanted to go dark), and did it myself. The result? Well, the box promised “Warm Chestnut” but I’d probably call it more of a “Warm Baby Shit”. It had that brownish-green color that you only see in the stool of a 6 month old baby obsessed with strained peas.

Not thrilled with the “shitty diaper” look, I went to a salon that specialized in hair color. Well, I assumed they specialized in hair color because the salon was called “Colours”. I can now tell you that it should’ve been called “Dysfunction”- the stylist left me over-processing at the sink while she had a mental breakdown in the back room. For almost an hour, I could hear her screaming & crying while the owner kept repeating “shh, there there”. I imagined the owner holding and rocking her, it was all very touching.

Next stop, the most expensive salon in town to correct the damage done from “Colours”. Primping, it only took all of my savings, my hair being chopped off, and 1 year of professionally applied temporary hair color to end up where I started. Have I scared you enough? No? Read on…

Tanning:” What? You want to charge how much for a professional spray tan? Hell no, I can apply that shit myself!” is something I should have never said…

 

Primping, I hope that I’ve convinced you that beauty is not the place to save a buck. Try eating less or growing your own coffee beans. And for the love of god, don’t attempt your own bikini wax, you’ll rip your vagina off!

I have to go now, my bathtub lady’s here. She watches me soak, so I don’t drown.

Kim

 

Do you have a question for Free Advice Friday? I bet I have a crappy answer! Submit your question here.

One Classy Holiday Letter 2018

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Happy Holidays!!! I can’t believe another year has flown by! 

In an attempt to justify having two mortgages, we spent last New Year’s Eve at our beach house in front of a fire, hunkered down under too many blankets, and proceeded to eat copious amounts of food while sporting leisure wear with elastic waistbands. We didn’t know it then, but the gluttony of that evening would set the tone for the rest of the year. I can only hope next year’s holiday letter starts off with our family’s favorite Paleo recipe and our cult-like obsession with CrossFit.

February was exactly like January, only colder. And despite knowing it would spell certain doom for our planet, we spent every day collectively yearning for an acceleration to global warming. Ideally, we’d like to feel like we’re in Florida without actually moving to Florida.

In March, Brian was awarded a work incentive trip to Hawaii!!! We unbundled the children and told them the good news, “Kids, you’re going to see the sun again!” After a grueling 13-hour flight (I’ve had babies in less time), we spent a week driving around the entire Big Island of Hawaii. And let me tell you this, Hawaii is beautiful but deadly. On our drive we encountered several signs: Danger! Falling Rocks, Heavy Fog for the Next 8 Miles (and yes, we couldn’t see for 8 miles), Banana Virus Quarantine (OMG. Had we eaten bananas?), Slippery Rocks. Climb At Your Own Risk. People Have DIED, and my favorite, a sign on the public beach that read, “WARNING! Former Military Training Area. Unexploded Grenades May Be Present”. Needless to say, we did not encourage the kids to dig for sand crabs.
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By the time we arrived at Volcanoes National Park to see Hawaii’s Kilauea Volcano, Ana was so traumatized that she refused to get out of the car. She had to be pulled from the vehicle yelling, “It’s going to explode!!!!”  We told her to stop being so dramatic.

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It exploded 49 days later.  

According to the Smithsonian:

The eruption has forced the evacuation of thousands of people, and 700 homes have been destroyed by lava flow. Clouds of toxic “laze,” which is formed when blazing lava hits the ocean water, posed an acute health threat. Much of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, which has been hit by 18,000 earthquakes in the past month alone, has shut down.

I still say she was being overly dramatic.

In the beginning of April, Ana had a palate expander put in her mouth in preparation for braces. It’s basically a modern-day dental torture device that spaces her baby teeth farther and farther apart with every crank. She hated it, but adjusted quickly. On the 20th, she turned 9. Her party was held at the roller rink and, in lieu of gifts, she asked her friends to bring canned dog food to be donated to a local animal rescue. I was so proud of her selflessness. And at the end of a fun but exhausting day, I smiled at my kind-hearted, animal-loving girl and she smiled back, sliding a slice of birthday cake between her two front teeth.

Ahh yes, May.

“There is one thing stronger than all the armies in the world, and that is an idea whose times has come” – Victor Hugo

And on Memorial Day, the time had come to debut my 15 ft x 12ft x 10 ft inflatable pink flamingo raft. Collin, understandably nervous, helped me inflate it, while Brian hid indoors and Ana went to gather her friends. We then docked it next to my neighbor’s fancy boat, creating the most wonderful juxtaposition on the water – Class vs Trash.

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We loaded it up with bottled water, sunscreen, life preservers, kayak oars, neighborhood kids, and after tethering it to the dock with 50 feet of rope, we set sail. After about 5 uneventful minutes, we got bored and someone yelled, “CUT THE ROPE!” (it could have been me) and so I did. That’s when we discovered that kayak oars are about as useful as wet noodles when trying to steer a thousand pounds of floating poultry. Despite our frantic paddling to reach the dock, the current took us in the opposite direction. Neighbors, who had originally come out to take incriminating pictures to present at the upcoming homeowners meeting, soon realized we needed rescuing. Ropes were thrown, along with curses, and we were pulled in. Her maiden voyage lasted all of 15 scary minutes. She was then deflated and packed away, as were my dreams for her.

In June, Collin started his first job at Candy Kitchen! We were so proud of him! It just so happens that Candy Kitchen was my first job at the beach, and I regaled him with stories, including the time I lost a red Lee Press-On Nail in the Swedish Fish. He said he already heard that story from management and added, “You’re the reason we have to wear food safety gloves. Thanks a lot.” I’m also the reason they need a doctor’s note when calling out on Memorial Day weekend with claims of being in a coma. But I kept that to myself.

Most of July was spent at the beach. I can’t remember the kids doing anything of significance, but I know for a fact that Brian perfected his margarita recipe, complete with fresh lime juice. You know how a cat comes flying at the sound of a can opener? That’s me when he starts up the juicer, running from anywhere in the house at breakneck speed. It’s probably the only fitness program that I have any chance of sticking with.

In August, Brian and I went back to one of our favorite resorts for our 17th anniversary, the Rosewood Mayakoba in Playa Del Carmen.  I wish I could tell you we did something exciting like zip-lining or scuba diving but the truth is, that vacation was a competition to see who could do nothing the longest. We both won.

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Just before Labor Day, Ana entered 4th grade and Collin started high school. Ana LOVES her teacher and classmates, recess is her favorite subject, pigs are her favorite animal, and she’s still tearing it up on the soccer field. Collin joined the high school football team and stands at 5’11”. That’s all I know about him as he only dispenses information on a need-to-know basis. We’re starting to suspect he considers us a source of embarrassment.

In September our master bathroom was renovated. Despite walking around a 6ft double vanity, stacks of subway tile, and chrome plumbing fixtures sitting in the middle of our living room for 3 months, Brian seemed completely caught off guard by this project. But to be fair, I may have led him to believe the living room was just a very elaborate three-dimensional vision board – I know how he hates change.

October was nothing but football and soccer. Collin turned fifteen and went to his first Homecoming dance – we took formal pictures in the new master bathroom as it’s now the best room in our house.

Whenever there wasn’t a football or soccer game in November, we snuck away to the beach. Unfortunately, this caused us to miss our neighborhood block party, which was a rare opportunity to find out why our neighbor no longer speaks to us.  We don’t doubt we did something to deserve it, it’s just the not knowing which thing we did that’s killing us. Unlike our beach neighbors, where we’re fairly certain it was the flamingo debacle.

*If you’re reading this letter you aren’t that neighbor. So, do me a favor, don’t call and offer to tell me why you hate us.

In December, our homeowner’s insurance paid to replace our dilapidated, untreated cedar roof due to “wind damage”. We were thrilled! For once, mother nature and complete owner neglect conspired together to work in our favor. Now we just need a little tornado debris to break every crappy window in our home…

As far as Christmas preparations go, it’s December 21st and the tree is up but not decorated, unopened Amazon Prime boxes litter our house, and I still haven’t sent out our holiday cards. It’s going swell.

As for gifts, this year I’m just going through everyone’s rooms collecting and rewrapping last year’s presents that were never touched.  Shhh…someone’s about to get flash cards for the third time.

As this year is coming to a close, we want to say thank you for being a part of our lives. Whether near or far, yesterday or yesteryear, you are always in our hearts. May your 2019 be filled with an abundance of love, laughter, health, and happiness.

Love,

Brian, Kim, Collin, and Ana

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