Magic shoes for under ten dollars.

That's what I was hoping I'd find when my ugly six-year-old sandals finally did this to me:


Today I had to go to the mall anyway to get batteries for Isaac's birthday present, and I was certain I'd find an end-of-summer-super-blowout-clearance sandal sale.

But no.

Noelle, however, has once again renewed her relationships with the mall manequins now that school has started back up:

Um...Noelle, you already have a mommy. I'm right here, babe.

Hugging.

Dressing.

Reveling.

Hand holding.

Kissing.

Petting. The dog.

Anyway.

After searching for two hours I did find a decent pair of sandals for $25, but I just couldn't bring myself to part with that much money. Not when I had my heart set on $10 or less.

And mostly I was money-mad (you know the feeling...it's when you're mad that you have to spend money) because the toy we bought Isaac for his birthday (the one he asked for specifically) required four of those tiny little circle batteries. Like the ones you find in watches. Apparently those little guys cost four dollars...EACH! Whatever! Like I'm going to spend SIXTEEN DOLLARS for two hours of playtime.

Originally we purchased the two-inch remote-control droid to the left because it was only $17 (even though it LOOKS like it should cost $7), but I ended up changing my mind and springing for the cooler, bigger R2D2 version on the right that cost $25 because it required 4 AA batteries instead. I thought the extra eight dollars spent was worth the investment.

And that was my sad experience at the mall today.

If any of you happen to see an amazing shoe sale (the under-ten-dollar variety) in the next few weeks...or days, preferably...you will let me know, won't you?

First Day of School OR the Equivalent of Disneyland for Parents

The kids, just before breakfast:

(Oh, how Lincoln hates when I bring out the camera!)

Walking to school:

Lincoln imparting some last words of wisdom to the kindergartener:

Ready to go. No problem. Get lost, Mom.

Night--I mean, Day--at the Museum

Lincoln, showing his patriotism.

Two-Part Recession Fun

The Historical Society Museum

1) It's free

2) After a visit, whenever your kids complain about anything (like dinner, or how few toys they have) you'll forever be able to moralize about how much more kids have now than they did in the past.

Here's Laura at the Mormon handcart pioneer display. She's smiling, but the manequins actually creeped her out a bit. Also, if you push a button it plays, "Come, Come Ye Saints", which I started to sing outloud but stopped and felt stupid when I realized there were other people in the room besides us.

Isaac was excited by the milling stone, though he didn't know what it was. Once I told him, he lost interest.

Noelle and a really old bike.

Lincoln loved the old typewriter he could actually type on.

Fun for the kiddies. (Though Laura wouldn't let us touch anything! She's so strict!)

The collections room. They are actually looking for volunteers...my dream job! So in ten years, stop in and wave at me through this window. (And, yes, I am really an 80 year-old in a 32 year-old body. Except when I watch Hannah Montana...but I only watch it at 10:00PM when Steve's at work because I get scared after the kids go to bed when I'm alone.)

The cool car museum next door.

Only you'll get in trouble if you let your kids do this:

(So why do they even have those kid-tempting fun machines, you ask? I wondered that myself. However, I did feel bad and made sure the older gentleman witnessed us dropping a dollar bill into the donation box.)

Then we thought we would cap off our historical adventure with a visit to the old Coralville Schoolhouse on 5th Street, which was built in 1876 (?).






The shady, grassy area next door (no doubt where students a century ago played) just screams "Next time bring a picnic!" We're going to have to go back one of these days.

Laziness

What you can't see behind these five open boxes of Rice Chex on the top of my fridge are four more boxes, also opened. Actually they're all empty...except for one. I just have been too lazy to pull them off the top of the fridge, throw out the inner bag, cut off the Box Top square and compress them down for recycling.

Laura caught me this morning trying to guess which box of the nine boxes was still full so that I could pour myself a bowl--a little game I play each morning--and I tried to engage her in my game: "Tell me, Laura, which one should I pick? The one on the end? Smack dab in the center? Which one looks like it has a greater gravitational pull than the others to you?" She did not think I was funny. She started making suggestions. "Why don't you just keep the full one in the same place everytime?" She does not understand that that would totally defeat the purpose of the game. "Or better yet," she continued. "Why don't you just throw out the empty boxes?"

Um, probably for the same reason that I am blogging about this, Laura, instead of washing these:

(In case you were wondering, the non-empty box is exactly in the center. And now I must go wash some dishes, darn it.)

Heaven to me.