The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor


The Architect


Perceived Perfect

My childhood hometown is drying up. The downtown is no longer bustling with shops. The big department store on Maine Street is being converted into The First Baptist Church, the Dairy Queen was torn down and storage units were built, all the local clothiers have long since abandoned their store fronts. It’s all gone. Well, except Klip-N-Kurl, where I went to get a $35 spa pedicure. This beauty shop has been around for a long, long time. It’s moved from one spot to another, but always on Maine Street.

I was greeted by Sheila. She hollered at me to come on back. We conversed about who my folks were and then she asked how they were doing, because of course she knows them. She asked if I worked, how many children I have, where I live, etc. Then out of the blue she said, “Don’t tell me you homeschool too? Cuz that would just make you way too perfect.” Okay, so I had a moment of do I lie? I don’t know why she asked me. It was very strange. I chose to tell her that in fact I do homeschool my children, but there is nothing glamorous about it and many days I’d like to slit my wrists. I live in a big community of homeschoolers; my children have been to public school and private school, blah, blah, blah what else can I say to not make this woman think I’m better than she? Her very polite comment to me was, “Well, around here your life would be perceived as perfect.” Whoa.

So what’s the perfection? That I chose to educate the kids? That I work very part-time and still take care of the kids? I don’t get it. I know I have looked at women and thought her life is so easy, she doesn’t know what it’s like to have to do this or that. But, I think I’ve been around long enough to know that there isn’t always a sweet gift inside the beautifully wrapped package.

There is no perfection about me or my home. It truly is perceived. Oh, but my kids, they are perfect and so is my husband. Buhwa ha ha ha ha!

Proof that I am a snob.

1. I ask for my dressing and sauces to be in a small ramiken on the side of my dish. Don’t drown your food (remember that commercial?).

2. I am offended when there is only powdered milk products offered to put in my coffee.

3. I’ve started asking for S. Pellegrino or Perrier Water with a twist of lime. That alone could be the only item on my list here and I would say, “you snob!”

4. I think Iceberg lettuce is some form of man made food product.

5. I won’t let my children consume; pop-tarts, juice boxes or any sugary cereal.

6. I don’t prepare food from mixes. With exception to mac & cheese.

7. I am disappointed when I have to eat with plastic utensils on a paper plate. I must always have a knife and fork, I eat somewhat like a preying mantis.

8. I wont use a plastic cup if a glass is available and I don’t care that you would have to wash it for me.

9. I sneer at people that bring desserts in a foil pan to a party. It’s all about presentation. It is not hard to get a pretty tray out and line it with a doily, arrange your store bought assortment of Peppridge Farm cookies in the shape of flowers and garnish with a few sprigs of mint. Now, that wasn’t so hard, and don’t the cookies look so much prettier and taste better?

10. Coffee or tea is a must with dessert, no exceptions. And you had darn well better have some half & half or 2% milk or I will go to the store and get it for you.

Maybe I’m not so much a snob as I am a food critic. Okay, so never mind.

But, today I thought I was pretty snotty when I found myself in a gas station wanting so much for the coffee choices to not be in a styrofoam cup with a plastic soda lid and the powdered creamer crap was overly abundant. I even went so far as to purchase milk to put in my coffee and ask the cashier if the lid I put on the cup was in fact for coffee. She said “yes”. I sulked out, got in the van and continued to be so disappointed that I missed the on ramp to the Interstate.

Okay, I know I’m not the only snob out there. Come on let’s hear it…. what little offenses are you thumbing your nose at?

I’ve gotta golden ticket…la la la la la la la

Soooo, even though I think that those Croc shoes are the most ugly things since Jellies (you know, those plastic flats that girls wore in the 80’s, no? You didn’t have them? I did, in clear and glitter pink), I am displaying it with a big swollen head about the size of Isaac’s.

Here’s something I learned on the back of a Honey Nut Toasted Oats box from Aldi’s…
“Blondes have more hair than people with dark hair”

Okay, so yea for me, again. Except they didn’t specify where on the body the extra hair is. I’m pretty sure mine is not on my head but rather sprouting from my jaw line and chin. Are sideburns and goatees hot or what? Yea, I have more hair than all you little dark haired 12 year-old boys wanting to shave. Whoopee for me!

Saturday my parents drove from my sister’s house, where they watched one of my nephews play ball, to my house to watch Seth play a ball game. I was going to send my four kids back with them to my sister’s house so I could have just one day…just one, measly twenty four hour period to get something done without interruption and then I would drive five hours to get my kids listening to music and thinking deep thoughts and eating the snacks I like without having to share and not stopping unless I needed to. But, when they got to my house all four of my nephews piled out with them. Surprise!!! Okay, so yea for me, again. I got to clean up after eight kids, feed eight kids and then drive five hours with an 8yo, two 4yos and the baby. Yea, freakin’ for me…again!

After listening to Levi wail, scream, grunt, and moan for the last 40 minutes of the trip I arrived at my sister’s home in time for her to tell me that I had interrupted her movie. She then made fun of my son’s haircut (which I’ll give her that), made fun of homeschoolers (uh-huh, I’ll give her that too) and yelled at me for not immunizing my children (I know, you all can yell too). And what did I do? I made fun of her hair dyed hair…..ooh, I’m so quick with the witty comebacks. But, she was still so mean to me that I finally said to my mom, “Maaaaaaahhhhhhm! Rechelle is being mean to me.” And then she shut her mouth. Yes, I am a child and still need my mother to intervene for me.

Now, enough of that complaining. I did get the boy’s room put together and now all the blue bedding is where it should be. I got the brackets partially painted for the shelves in Ellen’s room, that was one of the things I thought I’d finish on that “day off” hahahahahahahah. My sister is so gonna pay! Ahem, I mean I will just get those done some other time in the next decade or so.

In the day or two that I am at my sister’s house I am going to plant a poopy diaper in an air vent and maybe she won’t be able to find it. What’s that? I’m evil? Vindictive? Where’s the love? Hehehe, you don’t mess with the April.