I’ve spent the last couple days in sort of a general fog and funk – it’s what happens to me when I stay in the house for more than 24 hours straight. The irony, of course, is that once I have been home for 24 hours straight, I sort of never want to leave. Is there a personality type called “circumstantial extrovert”? Because I think that’s me.

Yesterday I didn’t get out of my pajamas at all, though I did clean the house and wash clothes and take care of my “chores.” So at least I haven’t been unproductive. I’ve just had too many nights in a row with not enough sleep and too many days of busy-ness when awake. I believe that’s what the experts refer to as “life.” And yesterday, life caught up with me. As Diane would say, I was TARD.

Then last night I was fixing supper, and I decided to bake potatoes differently than I normally do – all because of something I saw on Food Network (note: when I’m in fog and funk mode, my television doesn’t budge from HGTV or Food Network unless something REALLLLY special is happening on another channel, like, say, the “Project Runway” casting special, but that’s another post for another time). Anyway, my fancy new potato cooking method caused my entire house to smell like Old Burned Oil, which left me slightly out of sorts because I had spent the whole day cleaning, and THIS was my reward? To be trapped in Old Burned Oil House? With nary a hint of April freshness?

So finally around 11 last night I just got in the bed, which prompted D. to look at me and say, “Um. What are you doing?” Keep in mind that I am Official Night Owl in these parts, and I don’t go to bed before midnight if I can help it.

My reply? “I’ve had enough.”

So today I got up to a house that still smelled of Old Burned Oil, at least until Alex’s breakfast was ready, at which point the house’s smell magically transformed into Old Burned Oily Waffle With Syrup. And this was before Alex had an accident in his big boy underwear, but I can’t talk about that right now or I’ll throw up. And really, I’d rather not add that to my plethora of olfactory sensations (don’t all these delighful smells sound like a recipe for some exclusive air freshener? to be sold in specialty boutiques nationwide?).

ANYWAY, after lunch D. took Alex to run a few errands (ah, the perks of a husband who works from home – perks for which I will be forever thankful), and I decided to, you know, bathe. And change out of the pajamas that I’d had on since SUNDAY NIGHT (I’m hoping you won’t be appalled – surely you’ve been in the same boat at some point or another – but if you haven’t, please don’t judge me, I beg you).

A bath! Even though I didn’t have anywhere to go!

So when D. and Alex got home just a little bit ago, D. said, “OH! Did you take a bath?” Apparently the very notion that I had Chosen Cleanliness was surprising to him, given the fact that I had seemed pretty content to be in a foul mood and wear the same hot pink tie-dyed t-shirt for the last 36 hours. I was proud to tell him that yes, I had in fact bathed – and felt much better as a result. Clean helps, you know.

And an olive oil and coriander candle that Emma Kate’s sister gave me helps, too. Because the Old Burned Oil smell seems to be fading. Of course, it’s being overshadowed by the smell of Hot Boiling Chicken, but the candle has definitely helped. In case you were wondering.

And I feel like my regular extroverted self again. But I’m soooo getting out of the house tomorrow.

So how are y’all?

No, not THAT kind. :-)

Every Sunday our church provides us a little sheet of paper with a sermon outline. And it’s great, until the little slips of paper start filling up your Bible and falling out in your car and curling around the edges.

So I went to Walmart, bought a little plastic binder that’s the size of the sheets – and voila – instant sermon journal.

In the front I keep the outlines, in chronogical order, of course (would you expect anything less from this OCD girl?)

In the back I have blank notebook paper – because sometimes we don’t get outlines when we have a guest speaker and because I typically need more room than those little outlines allow.

In the front pocket I keep my Scripture index cards, a pen, and maybe an outline or two that need reinforcements over the holes or that I want to look over again.

And then, in the back pocket, I keep a notepad with my name on it. We go to a big church, and if I find myself in a conversation with a visitor or in a meeting with people I don’t know very well, the personalized notepad enables me to jot down whatever information they need from me – and prevents them from having to wonder, “Hey, who was that woman who wrote down the chicken and wild rice casserole recipe for me?”

But my favorite thing about my little black book? It’s something we can pass down to the little man one day – all sorts of Biblical wisdom in one convenient little notebook.

And that most definitely works for me.

Earlier today Alex and I were upstairs. He was in the playroom, and I was putting away clothes in his bedroom. Once I got everything squared away, I figured it was as good a time as any to make up his bed.

So I did.

A few minutes later, when the little man walked in his bedroom and surveyed the wonder of his newly made bed, he jumped up on the footboard and said “OH, MAMA! MY CLEAN BED! THANK YOU, MAMA!”

Then held out his arms so he could give me a big hug.

And I realized that there was no way, no way at all, that my heart could possibly process even one more ounce of love because the child, in that 30 second exchange, split my heart completely in two.

Those seemingly ordinary moments that suddenly turn into something spectacular and consequently take your breath away?

The best.

No doubt about it.

Since some of y’all haven’t been reading my blog very long, this (and by “this” I mean “this day when I have had not one original or creative thought”) seems like an excellent opportunity to familiarize you with the history behind what I like to think is some astoundingly average writing here at BooMama.

And since a few of you have emailed me with questions (by the way, do you have any idea how many emails I’ve gotten in the last week with the word “pickle” in the subject line?), or you’ve asked me questions in the comments, or you’ve made some suggestions that, while oh-so-very-kind and appreciated, are way outside the realm of possibility, I want to take time to answer them since I am a good Southern girl and all.

So in order to address all those things, let’s step back into the archives, why don’t we? It’ll be a win / win for everyone: a trip down memory lane for those of you who have been reading here for awhile (okay – maybe not a total win for y’all)…a chance to get up-to-speed for those of you who haven’t been here very long…and an embarrassingly easy cop-out for me writing-wise.

Fun for all!

Or, you know, not.

“Where did you get the name BooMama?”

Well, it all goes back to our time in south Louisiana….

“I’d buy a book if you wrote it.” (Most encouraging comment ever, by the way.)

Well, that’s real sweet and all, but since I have no imagination at all, it’s not gonna happen. It would be painfully bad and people would laugh at me, as you will see after reading this.

“How do you find time to post so often?”

It helps when you only have one child and no social life whatsoever.

“Why don’t you ever use your real name?”

My real name isn’t common. My husband’s name and my child’s name are. I can use their names without giving too much away. But my name? Not so much. So it seems that the best way to protect our privacy at least a little bit is to keep my name off of this blog.

And then, of course, there’s the secret stuff that I don’t talk about here.

The bottom line is that I try to be specific enough on the blog that it’s readable, but not so specific that I give away too many identifying details, especially in regard to some ministry work that I do. I’m just more comfortable that way. And I think it’s the right thing to do for my family.

“Why don’t you post more pictures of yourself?”

Um, read that last paragraph.

“Why does your tagline say ‘Read by tens of people each and every day’?”

Because for the longest time, it was true. It was probably took three months for my Site Meter to climb over 1,000 visitors.

Plus, it’s an oddly comforting phrase to me – it reminds me of how many bloggity doors God has opened since last November. But if you have another suggestion, let me know.

“What’s your favorite post?”

Okay, no one really asked me that, but I needed a way to wrap up this post.

So I’ll go ahead and answer anyway:

Why, yes, I do.

A couple, in fact.

:-)

See y’all later.

Since I grew up with a daddy who is as frugal as the day is long and a mama who would rather stay inside the house indefinitely than to leave it wearing a Cheap Shirt, I am a unique financial personality: someone who likes good, quality stuff but doesn’t want to spend any money on it.

A salesman’s dream!

You can imagine how fun Christmases could be during my childhood with Mama’s and Daddy’s polar opposite money personalities: Mama would give Daddy an expensive suit that he would in turn vow could be found down at the men’s discount store for a fraction of the price, and he would buy her hubcaps for her car because, well, she needed them.

Mama still hasn’t gotten over Hubcap Christmas, by the way. Even if it was twenty five years ago.

So I don’t think it requires much of a mental leap to realize that growing up with those two people definitely shaped my deep desire to find quality products (Mama) for inexpensive prices (Daddy). And when I do? I’m GIDDY.

A couple of years ago I was in Steinmart shopping for a comforter set for our guest room, and I always think of that particular shopping experience as a highlight of my bargain shopping. I found a Ralph Lauren comforter set that had been $399.99, then marked down to $279.99, then marked down to $189.99, then marked down to $139.99, THEN marked down to $99.99. I practically skipped to the front to buy it.

But wait! There’s more!

When the cashier rang up my purchase? There was an additional discount.

Unadvertised. Which I feel is the most beautiful of all words in regards to sales or specials. Melodic, in fact.

So the comforter set cost me $70.00. Marked down from almost FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS to SEVENTY DOLLARS.

I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure that I heard angels singing.

These days, though, aside from finding a cute jacket on clearance or a having a particularly good run with coupons at Publix, I haven’t had many banner bargains cross my path. And truth be told, I don’t really think about it as much now that Alex is here, because 1) it’s harder to shop when he’s around and 2) if I need baby wash, I just need baby wash, and I don’t find entertainment from running all over town to find the best baby wash price. (But, in case you’re wondering, it’s the lavender Target brand – only $.99 – works just as well as Johnson & Johnson’s – not that I pay attention to that kind of stuff anymore. Or anything.)

ANYWAY, today Alex and I had to make a trip to Walmart. I wasn’t really happy about going, because I wanted to stay home and clean and nest today, but I was out of some of the supplies required for cleaning and nesting. Like, you know, Endust and vacuum bags and detergent and fabric softener and dryer sheets, not that we need to open up that whole laundry quandry again. ;-)

We drove to Walmart, went inside, started making our way through our list, and I spied some items that I thought were certainly mispriced…but upon closer inspection, I realized that no, they weren’t mispriced, it’s just that they’ve gone all cuckoo and bonkers at Walmart and have obviously decided to practically give away the merchandise.

(And now I feel sort of bad, because MY WORD this is a lot of build-up for what I ended up buying, because you’re going to think I found a car for, like, five dollars, and that’s so not what it is, so just remember that I LOVE ME A BARGAIN, especially when it’s a good product.)

So here is what I bought. For Alex. Not for me.

A 24-pack of Rose Art crayons for TEN CENTS. TEN CENTS!
A 150-sheet pack of notebook paper for FIFTY CENTS. FIFTY CENTS!
A 10-pack of Rose Art markers for FIFTY CENTS. FIFTY CENTS!

It’s prices from YE OLDEN DAYS!

For $1.10 (plus tax), I purchased what amounts to Big Art Fun for the young’un.

Aren’t y’all excited for me?

Of course – as is always the pattern in Walmart – I had $59 worth of other random things that were NOT on sale, but still. I’ll take my bargain successes where I can find them.

And I thought, when I got home, that those three items would make both my mama and my daddy happy…Mama because they were “real” brands, not some beige cardboard carton with “MARKER PRODUCT” written on the outside, and Daddy would love them because, well, they cost A DOLLAR AND TEN CENTS.

So I’ll wrap this anti-climactic post up now, because I need to have a little art time with Alex.

And he’d better enjoy it. Dadgummit.

Because we’ve got a dollar and ten cents’ worth of quality merchandise on the line. :-)

A friend just emailed me this picture:

OH, THE HORROR OF IT ALL.

Some of you may have seen this picture via email, too – it seems to be making the rounds now – but can you even imagine? Where would you start?

Oh, I will be HAPPILY dusting this morning.

Maybe even cleaning the baseboards, too. :-)