Day of the Fiscal Rollercoaster

So it turns out that being a grad student means you are poor.

This morning, while looking for a bag to bring with me on our trip, I found a one hundred dollar bill. For real! It doesn't get any better than that, right? And it was timely, man was it timely. So the girls and I dropped Steve off at work, deposited half the money in the bank and took the other half to the evil empire (aka WalMart) where we bought some coloring books for the plane and a few last minute Christmas items.

Then we went across the street to the grocery store where we picked up a few things for Christmas morning and snacks for the trip.

Oops! Card declined.

We tried it twice. The cashier was super nice about it, but we had to leave our food and go back to the bank to find out what had happened to the fifty dollars I had just put in our account.

Oops again. They closed at noon today. Damn. That meant that the money was unavailable, for whatever reason, until after Christmas, which meant not enough cash left to put gas in the car in order to get to the airport tomorrow afternoon. Damn. I checked my balance at the ATM: 84 cents. Damn, where was my fifty bucks?

Swearing at the bank under my breath, we turned around and drove back to the evil empire, where I returned everything I had just bought and got my money back. Just how I wanted to spend Christmas eve. The return process was actually fairly simple, for which I was grateful. I don't like being grateful to the evil empire, but hey, it was a grudging kind of gratefulness. Back across the street to the grocery store I scaled down our purchases to the bare essentials and then filled the car with gas. Heading home all I could do was hope that nothing else would come up that required money in the next day and a half.

In the mailbox was a letter from the bank. Our account had been overdrawn by $49.87. The letter did not offer any further explanation.

Sigh. No money. Oh well, I'm pretty much used to it. Shopping this Christmas has been an exercise in frugality, and to tell you the truth, I think I'm getting pretty good at strategic gift buying.

At home the girls and I ate leftover macaroni and cheese and I sat down at the computer to check my email and the weather. Again. Not thinking there would be anything there, I checked the other bank account, just to see. And guess what? We have money! Not a lot, but my assistantship check went through, so we're not totally broke, yay!

As relieved as I feel, I am also exhausted. When Steve gets home from work I am going to the store and I am going to buy us a nice bottle of wine, and we'll drink wine and eat cheese while we relax by the Christmas tree... okay, fine, while we wrap presents from Santa and steal his cookies.

I need at least a few hours before tomorrow's Day of Traveling Alone with Two Small Children.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

And since the rate at which I have been posting really is that slow:

Happy New Year!

Doesn't every party need one of these?

Me: Hey girls, let's finish cleaning and make tonight really special for Daddy, we'll make the house all nice and serve hors devours and everything!

Matilda: I want to be the girl who is the waitress!

Freya: I want to be the girl who tells people what they want!

Tonight's Conversation with the Small One

Freya has adopted the official position that there are exactly three reasons why people might not eat all or part of their dinner.

1. They have a tummy ache.

2. They are full.

3. They are not hungry.

(After listing these off for us a few nights ago she then firmly announced, "and I do not have a tummy ache.")

Sometimes, when she's not eating her food (which seems to be more about power and control than any of the above reasons) she will perform magic tricks, illusions, if you will, during which Steve and I must close our eyes and wait for her signal. When we open our eyes - get this - the bite in question has disappeared!

Tonight was not a magic show night, however, so I decided - after telling her in no uncertain terms that her three ultimate reasons were not going to cut it - to try to explain why her body needs different kinds of foods to grow and be healthy.

"I am four," she says, holding up two fingers on each hand "and on my next birthday I will be five," she adds a finger, "that is how I grow."

"That's how you get older," I say, "but to grow and be healthy your body needs all different kinds of vitamins and nutrients."

"People get bigger because they grow, soooooo.... and I am up to here," she puts a hand just below her eyes, "on my sister and soon I will be up to here." The hand moves up about an inch: right in front of her eyes.

I agree that she is getting big, but insist that this is not a valid argument for avoiding her vegetables.

"Okay, Mom, okay," she says, holding up her hands, "how about this. You close your eyes and dream that I am eating kale and spinach and lettuce and..." she pauses to consider her options, "carrots... and apples-"

"-and oranges," Matilda adds helpfully.

"Matilda! I couldn't eat that much! Okay, Mom, you can just dream that I am eating all of those things, okay?" She settles back in her chair, apparently confident that she's wrapped up this particular argument quite nicely.

"Uh, Frey? Do the things that we dream really happen?" I ask, clearly with a right answer in mind.

She give me an exasperated sigh, "Just use your imagination!"

I didn't have a rebuttal for that one and resorted to the tried and true (and often inadequate), "Just eat your greens, Freya."

"Okay," she says, "I will, but first can we keep talking about this for a little longer?"

I think that in the process of choosing a preschool program we might want to find out which one has a debate team.