My Husband Is So Cool He Wears Designer Jeans To Mow the Lawn

A number of years ago, we were out shopping together when I spied them.

Alfani jeans. On sale for around $20 a pair.

I begged with my husband. I pleaded with my husband. I cajoled my husband into buying some. They were stylish. They were hip. They were a far cry from the usual Kirkland Signature jeans he always bought. And insisted on wearing. Everywhere.

Oh, the fashion horror!

So, he bought a couple of pairs, and they quickly became his favorite jeans. Duh!

He wore them everywhere. They were dress-down-Friday-worthy. They were church-worthy.

Until one of the knees finally ripped out.

Now, they are only good for mowing the lawn in.

Now, my once-stylish husband owns only one worthy pair of Alfani jeans.

So, when those are dirty, when those finally give out, guess what he'll be wearing?

Kirkland Signature.

*sigh*

I knew it was too good to last.

A Recipe You Probably Don't Want to Taste

I make my own laundry soap, and have for the best part of a year. I find it works really well (even with my extremely hard water) and is very easy and inexpensive to make.

Laundry Soap

1 bar of soap (you can use any bar soap you want, but I prefer Fels Naptha)

1 cup of washing soda (you need actual washing soda, not baking soda)

1/2 cup of Borax (this isn't necessary, but I find it adds that little extra oomph)

4 cups plus approximately 4 gallons of water

Container(s) of some sort, either a 5-gallon bucket or 4 milk jugs (I've used an old, clean cat litter bucket, and I've used old, clean milk jugs. I prefer the milk jugs. Costco jugs are the best because they're slightly larger in volume than a gallon.)

essential oils (optional, but they give the soap a nice smell. Use about 10-12 drops per every two gallons.)

1. Grate soap (I use a cheese grater I bought specifically for soap making) and add to 4 cups of hot water. "Cook" over medium heat until soap is completely melted. Remove from heat.

2. Add washing soda and Borax and stir until completely dissolved.

3. If using a bucket, pour mixture into the bottom of the bucket and add 4 gallons of warm water. Stir to mix. Add oil if you want. If using milk jugs, divide mixture evenly among the 4 jugs (so, about a cup per jug). Fill jugs with warm water (no need to measure). You may need to fill them several times as the soap will foam up. Fill almost to the top, but make sure you leave enough room to be able to shake the contents. Add oil if you want (5-6 drops per jug). Shake.

4. Let soap sit 24 hours. When ready to use, mix/shake thoroughly. It will probably be lumpy and slimy, but that's normal.

5. When ready to use, pour soap in washing machine before adding clothes. It works best this way.

I use 1/2 cup of homemade soap per load. I also throw in some Oxy Clean for a little extra boost. When I remember, I pour half a cup of distilled white vinegar into the rinse cycle instead of using dryer sheets. If I forget, I still don't use dryer sheets.

This recipe will last me about 3 months, so it's very cost-efficient!

One extra note:

If you're going to make your own laundry soap and wait until you're completely out before making more, don't enjoy your laundry-free 24 hours too much. Because if you do, you'll be paying for it when those 24 hours are up. Believe me. I had to wash 5 loads of laundry yesterday to make up for not doing any on Tuesday. And today, I have another 3. All because I waited until I was completely out. Oh, well. I sure enjoyed Tuesday!

Wordless Wednesday--Sunset Through My Window

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For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom

or Look What Mom Found...and Dad Too!

The Legend of the Hose

In a certain house in a certain town, there is a legend, the Legend of the Hose.

It all began one day 4 or 5 years ago when the Daddy was taking a break from his parenting duties to take care of business. He stood there, silently, letting nature take it course when he was shockingly interrupted. There, out of the blue, clinging to his leg lovingly and pointing determinedly was his little girl.

The little girl asked, innocently, "Daddy, what's that?"

The Daddy answered unthinkingly and hurriedly, "That's my hose!"

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Fast forward a couple of years, and the little girl's parents brought home a new baby sister.

The little girl was, of course, enraptured with her little sister. She was fascinated by all parts of having a sibling: feeding, clothing, bathing, and, of course, changing.

During one of the baby sister's very first diaper changes, the little girl pointed and asked nonchalantly, "Where is her hose?"

The Mommy, a pro by this time, answered, "She doesn't have a hose; she's a girl."

"But, Daddy has a hose."

"Daddy is a boy."

"Oh. When I grow up, I'm going to have a hose."

"No, Honey, you won't have a hose when you grow up. You're a girl."

"Oh."

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Fast forward 18 months, and the little girl's parents brought home yet another baby, this one a boy.

The little girl was, of course, enraptured with her little brother. She was fascinated by all parts of having another sibling: feeding, clothing, changing, and, of course, bathing.

During one of the baby brother's very first bathtub baths, the little girl pointed and asked nonchalantly, "What's that?"

The Mommy answered, "That is his hose."

"Oh. I don't have a hose. My little sister doesn't have a hose."

"That's because you're a girl."

"I know."

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Fast forward 17 months, and the little girl's Daddy was bathing the little brother.

The little girl came in to watch, naturally, and after a few moments of quiet reflection asked the Daddy, "Why is his hose so small?"

The Daddy answered, "Because your brother is still little."

"When he gets bigger his hose will get big, like yours."

"Uh, yep."

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And thus continues the Legend of the Hose.

And So It Finally Happened

I went in to get M up this morning and smelled something.

Something bad.

Something yucky.

Something that would require my immediate attention.

Something that no one wants to deal with first thing in the morning.

And then I saw something.

Something worse.

Something gross.

Something that would require more than my immediate attention.

Something that no parent wants to deal with. Ever.

Poop. Everywhere.

On hands, on feet, down legs, on face (*gag*), on bedsheets.

Good morning, Mommy!

It's Been Awhile Since I Confessed Anything, So Here You Go

I have a confession to make:

I actually like going to the dentist.

Heavy-handed assistant aside, I've always had rather pleasurable experiences at the dentist. Growing up, we went every six months, religiously. Even in college. There may have been two years in there where I only went during the summer, but once I got married, it was back to every six months. Religiously. I actually found us a dentist before I found myself a doctor.

Sick, I know.

I love the feeling of clean teeth. I love the look of whiter teeth.

Now, I'm not the greatest caretaker of my teeth, but I definitely don't neglect them. I use a Sonicare, but I'm not a career flosser. I usually only floss regularly for a couple of weeks after my latest appointment and the week before my next appointment.

(Please tell me I'm not the only person who does this!)

The weirdest thing about me liking the dentist so much is that if anyone has reason to dislike having somebody stick metal instruments in her mouth, it's me.

I've had permanent teeth pulled. I've had wisdom teeth dug out.

I've had braces. Twice.

And oral surgery. Extensive enough surgery that my jaw was broken, moved, and screwed back together. Extensive enough surgery that two screws were drilled into my jaw from the skin-side (and yes, for a awhile I could actually feel the tiny screw heads with my fingers when I ran my fingers over the skin on my jaw). Extensive enough surgery that it took an entire year for all of the swelling to go down.

And yet, I still like going to the dentist.

I don't like the actual process of having my teeth cleaned, but I've developed coping mechanisms, which usually involve grabbing onto the bottom of my shirt so I can discreetly clench my fists when needed.

I like having the dentist come over and check my teeth. I like that he likes looking at my x-rays and commenting on all the metal in my mouth. I like that he agrees that the surgery was worth it.

And I love, Love, LOVE running my tongue over my smooth, clean teeth.

That feeling alone makes it all worth it.

On Turning 32

When you turn 32, it's not that special.

When you turn 32 and your birthday just happens to fall on a Friday, you still have to clean the house, even though it's your "special day."

When you turn 32, the kids will still argue, will still need their diapers changed, will still demand your time.

When you turn 32, the world doesn't stop for you to take a break.

When you turn 32, dinner out with your husband and free babysitting are just about the best presents you could ask for.

When you turn 32, you realize you wouldn't change what you currently have for anything.

Happy Birthday to me!!!

My Little Girl

Do you see this little girl?

This is my little girl, my "momma's girl."

She is me as a child.

I don't remember my early childhood very well.

But I will forever remember hers.

In My Defense...

...my fridge is already stocked with fruits and veggies. And I did get milk and yogurt, too; they were buried. Just so you know.

Yeah, you who looked my grocery cart up and down and didn't like what you saw;

yeah, you who peered at my kids eating free bakery cookies and saw the take-and-bake pizza sitting on top of my cart;

yeah, you who eyed me buying frozen nuggets and fries;

yeah, you who assumed I'm one of "those" parents who only feed their kids crap.

In my defense:

my kids only get a free cookie if they behave in the store (they almost always do, even without the promise of a cookie);

the pizza is for family movie night, which we do every week;

I buy nuggets and fries maybe three times a year;

my kids actually like fruits and veggies and almost always eat them first.

So there.

It's Party Time!

Oh my goodness! It's party time again, and I haven't decorated, or styled my hair, or even blogged in forever!

Oh, well. What you see is what you get, I suppose.

I'm Hillary, aka Mrs. Einstein. I'm a former English teacher with a math degree married to a former math teacher with an English degree.

I know. Don't bother figuring that one out. It's just how we roll around here.

Mr. Einstein and I will have been married 10 years this August. We have produced three children together, two girls and a boy: E is 6 years old, C is almost 3 years old, and M is 16 months old.

I'm currently a SAHM and a student. I have hopes of opening my own Etsy shop someday soon. I'm really interested in becoming a certified doula. I'm the women's ministry leader at my church.

I love to read and make cards. I love to cook and bake. I make my own laundry soap.

Ants are my nemesis; I take it personally when they get into my house.

My current obsession is my new camera, a Nikon D5000. It's a fantastic camera! I'm really loving dabbling in photography. I just don't have the time to devote to it, though I'd really like to get more into it.

Well, that's me in a nutshell. Thank you for stopping by!

Happy partying!

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Oh, and let's not forget the prizes! *squee!*

Here are my top 5, since I can't choose just 3:

US1: $150 gift certificate to Pedal Cars and Retro Collectibles, donated by 5 Minutes for Mom

US3: $150 gift certificate to A Rocking Horse to Love, donated by 5 Minutes for Mom

USC43: 3 personalized plates/placemats, donated by Olive Kids

USC11: $50 gift certificate to Priddy Creations, donated by Priddy Creations

USC57: a pair of Eleven shoes, donated by Wishing Penny

And others I am interested in, in order: US6, US16, US33, US58, US72, US22, USC8, US112, USC37, USC3, USC15, US75.