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Free Advice Friday! Primping in Poverty

March 22, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

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.

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Free Advice Friday! Not living the life you imagined? sucks to be you.

March 1, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

Dear Kim,

Sometimes I get really disappointed about where I am in my life right now. When I was younger I thought I’d have this great career, a house with a picket fence, and a nanny to take care of my 2.5 kids. Instead, I’m wearing sweat pants everyday and wiping asses while staring at my home’s 20 year old original appliances.

I love my family and the ability to stay home, but sometimes I have trouble appreciating it. Help me see things differently.

Living the unglamourous life,

Debbie in Downerville, ND

 

 

Dear Debbie,

Mind if I call you Little Debbie?

 

 

 

 

Those delicious little snacks bring back fond memories of middle school and my flirtation with childhood obesity. Good times.

LD, you’ve come to the right place! Shortly after “leaving” my position as head anger management counselor due to a “misunderstanding” (how a client can be a no-show 3 times in a row and my boss NOT expect me to throw a chair, is beyond me), I became a life coach. My thoughts were this…I’m living a life and I’m good at telling people what to do, how hard can this be? Turns out, pretty hard LD, pretty hard. Setting up my practice “SUX 2BU” was easy, talking to these people was a nightmare.

I thought it would be as simple as telling someone “Get a new job”, “Move out of your mommy’s house”, or “Stop eating glue” and they would do it…problem solved. But nooooo, these people wanted to “blah blah blah” week after week without making one single change- ain’t nobody got time for that! Well…technically they had an hour.

I found that most of my clients came to me with problems that stemmed from deep rooted issues, issues that could take years or even decades to resolve. As a results oriented person, this was very frustrating. That’s when I developed the DWIT technique. Don’t let the acronym intimidate you, the DWIT (Deal With It Tomorrow) technique is just a fancy term for a common sense approach to most of life’s problems.

As an example of how this works, here’s a transcript from one of my sessions:

 

Me: So what brings you here today, Bill?

Bill: I’ve put on so much weight. I’m stressed and I find myself overeating all the time. Plus I can’t find time to go to the gym.

 

Now your average life coach would tell Bill to figure out what’s causing the stress, he’d suggest ways to better manage the stress, and he’d probably give him ideas on how to incorporate exercise into his daily routine. But poor Bill isn’t going to change a damn thing. Instead, he’s going to feel crappier about himself for not making any changes and letting his coach down, this will compound his stress, causing him to eat double time, leading him to gain more weight, thereby raising his blood pressure, which will ignite a heart attack and. He. Will. Die. Good job Mr. Life Coach, you killed Bill.

Now here’s the DWIT approach:

 

Me: Bill, I understand you’re stressed and out of shape. That really sucks. This is what I want you to do…nothing. That’s right. Make a decision to put it all on the back burner today and deal with it tomorrow (DWIT). And when tomorrow comes, relax and say “I’ll deal with it tomorrow” and so on.

Bill: I feel better already!

You see, there’s always a tomorrow…until there isn’t -and then who cares? That’s some goddamn heavy brilliance right there! (P.S. Don’t tell Bill I shared this with you.)

 

LD, I recommend applying the DWIT technique to your situation. Need new appliances? You’ll shop for them tomorrow. No nanny? You’ll start interviewing tomorrow. Want a career? You’ll find one tomorrow. Today, put your feet up and watch your DVR’d Dancing With The Stars episodes while eating Kit Kats.

Remember, with a little discipline and the right life coach, you can keep putting off these bad feelings indefinitely!

 

Good luck tomorrow!

Kim

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Free Advice Friday! Anger Management Skillz

February 15, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

Because last night was Valentine’s, I told my hubby that I wasn’t going to spend the evening writing (yes, this crap may seem simple, but it takes me hours to write…mostly because I take a lot of pee and wine breaks).  Of course, I could have written a Free Advice Friday in advance, but I didn’t because that would be both organized and efficient, adjectives I would never use to describe myself.  Besides, I like my shit to be fresh.  So instead, I’m putting an oldie but a goodie up here and hoping that you laugh at it for either the first or second time (if you’re 1 of my 20 original readers-thank you by the way). Enjoy!

Psst…FYI- whenever I repost something I always make changes. If you want to have some fun, you can go back to the original post and see what’s different.  It’s kinda like a “Where’s Waldo” for really bored people.

 

Dear Most Brilliant Mom Ever,

How do I get myself to stop freaking out in front of my kids? And by freaking out I mean..totally screaming SO loud and scaring the children into tears while losing my voice and making my face go numb.

Please advise,

Mom of 2 Crazies.

 

Dear Crazy,

The most “brilliant mom ever”? Wow! Thanks for the undeserved compliment, unfortunately it  won’t make my advice any better. Sorry. But it just so happens Crazy, that your question falls right in my wheelhouse.

Did you know that I once taught an anger management class at the nearby community center? I know what you’re thinking, “A mother, wife, professional trampolinist, Little Miss Delaware 1979, rescuer of dolphins, shampooist…is there anything she can’t do?” Yes Crazy, I can’t remember the passwords to any of my accounts: email, bank, computer login, etc.  Instead, I always choose the “forgot your password?” button. It’s an inefficient way to live.

Anyway, I’m proud to say my Anger Management classes were popular and well attended by members of my community.  Of course, most of them were required to attend through court order, but I like to think that they really enjoyed the program. We did a lot of singing (“If You’re Happy and You Know It” was popular), role playing, and expressing our feelings through art.  Needless to say, I saw my fair share of macaroni middle fingers.

I ran the classes for about 3 weeks before it was “suggested” by my boss that I look for employment elsewhere.  He said I became too angry when students missed my class. Damn right! How would he feel if he had to skip the ending of “One Life to Live” every Wednesday only to find that some “angry ass” (as I called my students) didn’t bother to show?

Well, this one time I had to leave my house seconds before finding out if Cord was the father of Tina’s baby…and goddamn it if there weren’t 3 no-shows to class! WTF! Right?  I got so pissed that I started throwing the metal folding chairs all around the room while my students stood there chanting “Who’s your daddy? Who’s your daddy? Who’s your daddy?” over and over again. I think they took some sick pleasure from it.  In fact, had I not flipped over the complimentary Coffee & Donut table, they probably wouldn’t have ratted me out.

I tried reasoning with my boss, but apparently my “Do as I say, not as I do” philosophy was not embraced by the Sussex County Community Center.

This, of course, was all pre-kids.  I knew that if I wanted to be the best mother ever, I needed to stop drinking, swearing, and throwing chairs.  I can help you with the throwing chairs part.

Here are a couple tricks I use to control my frustration and anger level…

A Padded Room

Think of this padded room as a “time out” for you, an escape if you will. Just before you’re about to go bat shit, I want you to quickly and quietly flee to this room for your safety and the safety of those in the house.

I realize that it’s hard to find a house with a padded room (unless you buy one of my old homes) but don’t worry, you can create one on a budget.

I took an ordinary spare bedroom and covered the walls and floors with those foamy egg crates meant for the bed. This absorbs my screaming and protects me from the screaming of my children.  I then added a second layer of goose down comforters because they are soft, warm, and effectively soak up my tears (unlike poly-fill). You’ll also want to add an additional lock on the inside of your door, maybe a deadbolt.  It’s been my experience that your children can open the regular lock by inserting a tiny screwdriver or a bobby pin from Baby Hathaway’s hair into the doorknob.

Once you have the foundation for your room set, you’ll need to go about filling it with things that make you happy and/or calm you down. My padded room is filled with food and beverages that make me feel indulgent and occasionally buzzed.  In addition, I leave inspiration notes to myself all around the room. You can either hand write these notes or go to a website that sells motivational posters and purchase some.  It really depends on your decorative budget.  I like www.successories.com for my posters as it allows you to narrow down the choices through categories.  I always go right to the “WTF? This Isn’t What I Signed Up For!” section.

Here’s one corner of my room:

I pipe in Enya because it mimics the crying of my soul.

 

Displaced Aggression

This involves finding something that you can take your anger out on without the cops or Family Services coming to your home.  It could be something as simple as kickboxing, or digging a grave in the backyard to bury your sanity.  It’s a very personal choice.  I like to do something a little more sadistic… look at this before and after pic:

 

This plant thought it was going to a good home.
It was wrong.

I am the plant torturer.  I buy the plant and then… if I’m having a good day I water it, if I’m having a bad day then I don’t.  I think you can tell by the pics how the beginning of the school year went.

Tip: If I’m really pissed off I leave the watering jug next to plant where it can see it, and running my fingers up and down the handle I say “It sure is hot out here, I bet some water would feel refreshing.” and then…and here’s the best part…I pour the water onto the asphalt next to the plant and say “Oops! Darn, that’s all the water I had. That’s a shame” – then I make a sad face and leave!  …..I just leave!…… It’s like the opposite of waterboarding.  I could probably work for the CIA if I didn’t have such loose lips.

Crazy, I hope I gave you some ideas that you can use.  Just remember, they’ll only be at home until they’re 18 and then again at 35 when they get a divorce, so you’ll have 17 good years without all the bullshit soon enough.

Kim

 

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Free Advice Friday! Keep your kid’s hands crap free.

February 8, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

Dear Kim,

I dared to venture out to the local mall ” to get out of the house” with not one but two children, a two and a half year old and a 4 month old. I rarely take on this feat solo and told myself “the woman across the street has five children…what’s my excuse”.

As I was browsing the Disney store it hit me…like a knife stabbing….if I didn’t swoop up the toddler now I was going to shit my pants. What do I do? Brave the public restroom with two kids or “bet on black” and attempt the ride home (1/2 a mile). Well…I wasn’t making it out the door so I sprinted with a two man snap and go and verbally prepped the two year old” do not touch a thing in the bathroom, you sit in this stroller and keep our hands to yourself”. I was desperate…the thought of bringing them into a public restroom made me want to vomit at the same time.

I barely made it…ever time my daughter would move I would yell ” don’t touch a thing”….followed by an assplosion. The dirty was done…I felt filthy and violated. I think I’d rather shit my pants and deal with it later. So, the question is…how does such a classy lady handle a public restrooms with young children?

Desperately seeking answers,

Mom of 2 flagged kids in Shitcinnatti, OH

 

Dear Flaggie,

You’ve come to the right place. Did you know that, in some circles, I’m known as “The Poopologist”? I have an uncanny ability to determine what you’ve eaten and the current state of your health by merely glancing at your crap. It’s truly a gift. I’m like the palm reader of the fecal world.

As a poopologist, I’m all too aware of the diseases that can spread through shit. That’s why, when Ana accompanies me to a public bathroom I have her wear the “Shit Mitt”.

The Shit Mitt is simply an over-sized pair of gloves clipped to the child’s sleeve. This will prevent the child’s hand from coming in contact with any cooties that happen to be laying around. When you’re done using the restroom, just remove the Shit Mitt with a doggie poop bag, and throw it in the washer upon returning home.

*When choosing your perfect Shit Mitt, make sure they are durable enough to withstand multiple washings and the occasional bleaching.

 
For those children who are Shit Mitt savvy, I suggest using Chinese Finger Traps.

Hey kids, Chinese finger traps are a fun and festive alternative to touching diseases!

Now occasionally, I’ll come across the kid who throws off the Shit Mitt, figures out the Chinese finger traps, and defies all reasoning by licking the bathroom floor. For that child, I’ve developed the Fecal (does) Matter Program.

The Fecal (does) Matter Program is a “feces centered” scare tactic program that I created with help from some of the top Google results pages in the country. It skillfully addresses both public restroom germ education and prevention.

I can’t tell you the details of my program without you first sending me some money, but I can tell you that every participant receives a “Fecal (does) Matter” preventative t-shirt (sm-med. sizes only). This t-shirt carries our logo and is cleverly designed with sleeves that have been sewn shut. Simply slip it over their heads when you’re in a nasty stall and it’ll keep those little hands from touching disgusting bathroom stuff.

 

A happy graduate of the program!

I’m proud to say that I’ve traveled to many schools delivering my presentation with a high success rate. Alright, maybe they were home schools…and maybe by home schools, I mean homes…and by homes, I mean 1 home…but that kid was very receptive. In fact, he now refuses to even touch a toilet. Sure, he’s back to shitting his pants, but his hands are germ free and his parents couldn’t be happier!

Flaggie, I hope I was able to give you some ideas and options that work for you and your little germ catchers. Let me know if you’d be interested in receiving a free trial Fecal (does) Matter DVD, it’s basically a slide show of me using antibacterial soap but I think it’ll give you a real feel for the program.

Until then, keep your ass clean and your kids cleaner,

Kim

 
Psst…if you enjoy reading my blog, could you take a moment and click on the button below to vote for me as one of the Top 25 Funniest Mom Blogs? You can vote once every 24 hours, contest ends Feb 13th, 2013. Thank you!


 

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