And the Mother of the Year Award goes to....

Yesterday I was in Target, and I was right behind a lady and her son in the checkout line.  This lady was BEAUTIFUL.  I mean visually stunning; somewhere a magazine was missing its cover model.  Her son was freaking adorable, in a little jon-jon and saddle shoes (SO CUTE!).  She was dressed to the nines and had perfect hair.   And I was thinking, "I bet she's patient too, and never yells at her kids."  And sure enough, here she goes, "No, buddeeee, we're just going to give all these things to the nice lady here, not throw them, okayyyy?"  While her son continues to throw all the things she's brought to the checkout out of the cart and onto the floor.  Fling.  Fling.  Flingy fling.  So then she starts looking around at the cashier, and then me, and then the lady next to her, and then the other cashier, and everywhere but this little boy.  Like any of us are going to do anything; heck, we're waiting to see what SHE'S going to do.  Maybe we'll learn something.  And he's just happily throwing things to the floor while she's flipping out.  She's smoothing her hair and crooning to him, "Now let's just let Mommy have that, okayyyy, honeyyyyy?" while he's totally getting into the flinginess and is now jumping up and down vehemently in the back of the cart. In the middle of all this she stops to tie his little saddle shoe that's come untied and smooth his hair back down, because believe me, he's totally feelin' the moves.  And this goes on and on until she and the cashier finally retrieve everything, she pays for it, and off they go.  

Here is the time where I judge.  But no, I'm not judging HER.  I'm busy judging ME.  Seriously, if that was my kid, I'd 'a whacked him on the behind LONG AGO, maybe 2nd fling.  And I think, "Geez, could I really be that patient, as patient as HER, with my kids when they're misbehaving like that?"  The answer is no.  And I know, I've read all those articles about how mommies should stop judging each other and give each other a break, we need to lock arms ladies, SOLIDARITY 'TIL EIGHTEEN, we will prevail, these children will not break us.  But the thing is you are CONSTANTLY comparing yourself to each other and your kids to each others' kids, to figure out if yours are average, or above average, or freaks of nature.  You can't help it; it's ingrained in you from grade school when you all start comparing report cards.  It's like that in adulthood, only your kids and the way you keep your patience is what you're grading each other on.  Old ladies judge you.  People without kids judge you.  And even if they don't say it, you KNOW they're thinkin' it.

So compared to this lady, I'm wondering about myself.  You know I'm not a fashion plate.  If I never had to wear a dress again that would be A-OK.  I will take my jeans and my Converse ANY DAY.  She's fashionable AND in public.  WITH a kid.  I run to Target in mini-bursts when I don't have a child with me, even if it's 8:45 at night, if that's what it takes.  I have got the speed trip DOWN.  Plus she's totally not losing her temper even though her son is acting like a rabid animal.  People, I just cannot put up with crazy.  If my kids can't behave in public, we are totally leaving, I don't care where the cart has to go, we are GONE.  But the thing that gets me is that in the middle of this awesome display, she's worried about his tiny little SHOE and whether his hair is in place.  NOW I feel like a jackalope, because MY kids ate dinner butt naked last night at the dinner table because they'd just gotten out of the pool and we hadn't yet made it to the bath and everybody was hungry.   Sometimes I KNOW they forgot to brush their teeth but I'm just too freakin' tired to get everybody out of the bed again.  I've fallen asleep in the middle of a story.  I've fallen asleep in the middle of a story I WAS MAKING UP.  I've let them swim when the pool was green.  They've had processed, sugary, diabetes-inducing sugar-crashing powdery-heaven donuts for breakfast BECAUSE KRISPY KREME.  I've let them run around the yard in their underwear in a rainstorm and jump in puddles probably full of every horrifying microorganism there is, even the ones with fangs.  I HAVE FORGOTTEN THE TOOTH FAIRY.  

But I am seriously learning to embrace all the differences between us mommies, and when I hear of a cool new idea that I think could really help me, I give it a whirl.  When somebody lets their kids talk to them in a way that I know I would have gotten the crazy-eyes-defcon-8-look from my mother for, I just tell myself, "nope, couldn't take that, but you do your thing, girl."   I AM NOT OPEN TO CRITICISM, lady in the bathroom with the opinion I didn't ask for.  The answer is, "You're doing a beautiful job."  That is always the answer, lady.  Just like when you're pregnant.  "You got a basketball under there?"  I'M TRYING TO STEAL A BAKED HAM AND THANKS A LOT FOR DRAWING ATTENTION TO IT.  "You are beautiful."  THAT is the answer.  I try to keep them from breaking necks and having any organs visible on the outside, but I also try not to hover or gasp audibly every time they jump into the pool or balance on the curb.  It's a fine line, people.  I have children with no fear, no visible trepidation of any kind.  I'm trying to not impart my crazy on to them but let them take their own path to the therapist.  We are stringent about the basics but we're a little lackadaisical if nobody's eyes are going to get poked out.  I try to let them reason out how to handle things on their own and I try to think of times growing up when I had a similar problem, if it'll help.  And sometimes I lay down the BECAUSE I SAID SO because that's the answer.  

So I snapped out of my Target envy and got up to the cashier, and she said, "Can you BELIEVE that lady?"

Sigh.  I am so FREAKIN' glad I left my kids at home with Daddy.

Rachel and Leah and Goats

So much of the Bible is weird to me; talking donkeys, people cutting off ears, people dropping dead, people being turned to pillars of salt.  Half the stuff, I’m looking in the notes trying to figure what the heck that was I just read.  “Life Application” my butt.  If anybody comes looking to cut off my ear, I’m running. 

But I had another a-ha moment the other day where I finally understood something. We were reading the Jesus Storybook to the kids; we do that every night, and woe be unto you if you are tired and want to skip it. This story happened to be about Rachel and Leah.  It's in Genesis 29 and it talks about Jacob, who goes to work for his Uncle Laban.  Jacob works for Laban, and in return, Laban asks him what he wants for wages; he wants to marry Rachel because she's just so beautiful, he can’t stand it.  "²⁰ So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her."  Men are like that.  Wave some booty and they fall apart.  Ask me how I know.

So Laban says “Work for me for seven years and you can marry Rachel.”  Jacob does that, he works for seven years, and on his wedding night Laban sends Leah to his tent, not Rachel.  Now I guess it's pitch black dark in there, I don't know, and nobody talks (which I find hard to believe), but somehow he doesn't realize that it's Leah that he got, not until the early morning, after they've already done the nasty. And then Jacob goes to Laban all worked up, saying, “I served you for Rachel!  What the heck?”  (This is kind of like the Message.  “Dude, what up, you jerk!”)

Laban says, “We don’t give the younger daughter away first.  Work for me another seven years and I'll give you Rachel.”  No explanation for why he couldn't have said that up front, why he sneaked Leah in there.  No Steve Urkel, “Did I do thaaaat?”  Seven MORE years until Jacob gets Rachel, like Laban couldn’t have ever MENTIONED the fact that the oldest goes first?  For Pete’s sake, I’d have given you an extra cow if I’d known that, you know? 

The Bible says that God saw that Leah was not loved. Now it doesn't say what's wrong with Leah, other than she has “weak eyes,” it just says that she wasn't loved.  And we already know that Jacob didn't want her. I don't know if she had horns or was just butt-ugly or had some giant disfigurement or what her major malfunction was.  Apparently the main issue was that she wasn’t Rachel.  I try to imagine what she must have felt like; not being loved or wanted, married to her cousin (ew).  I don't think I'd have a happy life if I married somebody who straight up said he didn't want me. But the thing that I'm struck by is that through Judah, Leah’s son, came the line that would give us Jesus Christ.  How crazy is that.

I’ve heard that when we suffer or when bad things happen that we can't see the big picture; that only God can knows the purpose of our suffering.  Sometimes bad things or disappointing things happen in your life and you’re crushed, and maybe later you see how that worked out for good, days or years or whatever.  Example.  When we were just moving back to Jax, Dallas was promised a job. Then suddenly they decided to offer that job to someone who had less experience but also was cheaper. At the time, and for a few months later, he was devastated because he was counting on that job and he was really looking forward to working there.  But out of that disappointment came the job he has now, which he absolutely loves.  And through which we've been blessed to meet some very special people.  Later he was fine with not getting that job, because he enjoys what he's doing so much; God had something better.

But Jesus came through the line of Judah, and obviously Leah had no idea about that, that was WAY down the line.  She spent her entire life knowing she wasn't loved, with her weak little eyes and her horns and whatever.  The most awesome thing that came out of her life, and she never saw it!  She never had a clue, she’s just living her unlovable life, popping out a bunch of children and selling herself for mandrakes.   It's just one more reminder that even though I don't always see it and I can't understand it, I have hope that there's a larger purpose at work.  Ya just never know.

Minor epiphany aside, I'd like to leave you with a conversation between my three children. Yes I said three.  Eli is half mine, just like mine are half Sandy and Ron’s.  Eli came to spend the night the other night and on the way home they were all just being crazy, so I told them they should play the alphabet game.  We do this a lot in the car, mostly just to keep the kids occupied in the car so they don't drive me crazy, and here's how it goes.  For each letter of the alphabet, you have to think of an animal you're going to ride on, a place you're going to go, and something you're going to buy when you get there. This is the conversation.

Carter:  I'm going to ride a...

Eli:  Goat!

C:  No, hush, I’m thinking. 

Lots of giggling.

C: I'm going to ride a…

E:  GOAT!

C:  No, I don’t want a goat, I’m going to ride a….

E:  GOAT!

Hilarity ensues.

C:  Hush, Eli, I’m going to ride a gorilla.  And I’m going to go to…

E:  Georgia.

C:  Not Georgia.  G…g….g….guh guh…guh…

E:  GEORGIA!

C:  NO!

E:  GEORGIA!

C:  FINE!  I’m going to Georgia.  Mama, Georgia is G, right?
Me:  Yes, you can go to Georgia.

C:  Eli won’t hush.  Eli, hush.  *sigh*  I’m riding a gorilla and I’m going to Georgia and I’m going to buy a….

Sarah Cate:  A GOAT!!

Extemporaneous jocularity commences.

Randomosity

Good grief.  It's about a thousand degrees.  I'm hahhht.

One week Dallas was off, so we took the kids downtown to ride on the sad little Skyway that cost the city 40 quadrillion dollars that nobody ever rides.  But they love it, and it's kinda handy, but it doesn't go anywhere but downtown.  How pathetic is that.  We got to eat lunch at the Southern Grille, where our beloved Miss Jill works.  On the way Carter and Sarah Cate peppered me with questions:

"How many wheels do really big trucks have?"

"Why do they have two wheels next to each other?"

"Is that a Z or a U truck?"  (I used to work for CSX, and we learned that trucks with codes on the back that end in a U are containers; Z means a trailer.  Ever since I told Carter that, he is obsessed with finding the codes on the back of big trucks.)

"How many cylinders do cars have?"

"What's a transmission?"

"Why do trains have so many cars?"
"Why isn't the caboose red?  It should be red."

"I love this bridge!  Can we turn around and go back over it?"

"How do helicopters turn?"

Constant questions.  Some of the car questions, I'm like, Can't we just call Papa and ask him all these?  I don't know how cars go or what a carburetor does or why gas stinks or any of the other myriad of questions I'm asked on a daily basis.  The best I can do is, Let's Google it.  Dear Lord, we thank you for Papa and Mr. Google and the internet.  Amen.

I'm going through a mid-life crisis.  Since Carter was born I've been doing volunteer work somewhere; first it was with Department of Children and Families, a few in the middle, and now the mission I told you about.  I know my job is important to companies, they need what I do, but I feel like I'm not doing enough for people who really need a hand up.  Not that I think I can save the world or that I want a career in social work so other people's problems can suck the life out of me; I just think that the work I do that really counts is about at 5% vs. the paycheck I bring home is 95%, and I need it to be more like 50/50.  Over the last year or so, it's really become a compulsion.   I'm a relatively intelligent person, I got MAD SKILZ, surely I can find a position somewhere at a non-profit or a hospital or something; I don't have to be a missionary in Outer Slobovia.  But, I love the people I work for.  Seriously, there are not better bosses out there; I have the absolute best.  I don't particularly want to leave them.  And I still need a paycheck.  But I've got to do something or I'm gonna DIE.

So I'm looking into other avenues.  I don't know what that is, or what it's going to look like, but I'm hoping I'll know it when I see it.  I don't know how long it'll take, to find that THING.  But I'm willing to wait for the right THING, whatever that is. 

I met some more folks at the mission that I can tell you about.  There's Mike -- he was in phase 2, where they go to work on the farm, and he got colossally drunk one night and they kicked him back down to Start.  At least he's stayed in the program.  I sat down to talk to him and a guy named Bo, and Mike said, "I feel like I recognize you."  So I was like, "Really. I must just have a familiar face."  And he goes, "No, you look like my buddy's old lady."  Seriously?!  Who says that any more?  I gotta check with the old lady before I go out drinking tonight.  Isn't that from like, the 1950s?  I look like somebody's old lady.  How NICE.

I  met Joseph.  He told me he doesn't want to talk to anybody else about why he's there, but he wants to talk to me because he can tell I'm a Christian.  How he can tell that I don't know; I slop food around and clean tables, the hallmark of every God-fearing person, I guess.  He told me he's drunk most of the time and he finally decided he can't take it anymore.  His girlfriend tells him he comes home and yells at her and throws stuff around, and he doesn't remember any of it.  But he told her he was going to the mission, and she's so proud of him so he's trying to stay.  He said, "Look at my eyes, can't you see the bags under them?  I can never sleep when I'm drinkin'.  They're usually worse than this."  So I told him he has to stay, his girlfriend knows what she's talking about; he needs to be here.  He said, "yeah, okay, I might do that."  And I'm like, "NO.  I mean it.  YOU HAVE TO STAY.  I'll be here next week, I expect to see you.  If I don't see you I'm gonna hunt you down."  And he gets this huge grin on his face and he says, "Yes ma'am."   Guess what happened the next week -- no Joseph.  No Joseph since.  His girlfriend took him back.

Matt (the one that said his big belly was prettier than having track marks) went to the hospital for a week; I don't know for what, but Nehemiah said he called every day, so I was hoping he'd come back.  Not only did he not come back, he took somebody in the program with him.  Grrr.

And still no Cameron or James.  *sigh*

Next time I'll tell you about Cowboy, because he's had an amazing life.  And Nehemiah, because he's embarking on an amazing life.

But let me tell you what happened today.  I went to a volunteer project management class through one of the local service organizations.  I walked in to the class, and it was in a conference room with only one other girl.  Another girl came in, in a black dress.  Then a few minutes later a guy in an orange shirt came in.  Then two guys who were leading the class came in.  And we all sat there chatting before the class was supposed to begin, until Black Dress says, "I have to tell you about the weirdest thing; I was coming here, looking for a place to park, and there was a lady walking around the parking lot.  I stopped to ask her if she needed anything, and she said 'I'm looking for a way to kill myself.'"  We all just looked at her, and then Orange Shirt says, "Yeah, I saw her too, right out front.  I asked her if she needed anything but she said no."  So here I am thinking, I must have misunderstood.  So I said, "She's out there, wandering around, and she said WHAT?"  Black Dress repeats her story, and I said something like, "We've got to go get her."  I don't remember exactly what.  So I stood up, grabbed my phone, and went off into the parking lots looking for her, and the rest of them are just kind of following me around.  Long story short, we couldn't find her, and I couldn't find her later just driving around in the parking lots after the class, but WHO DOES THAT?!  Who talks to someone who says "I'm looking for a way to kill myself," and DRIVES OFF!  Then you sit in room full of people for 10 minutes before you say something?  ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

People are INSANE.  Freakin' insane.

Stuff and Things

Yes, it's been a while since I've updated but since nobody but me ever reads this, it's hardly a travesty.  And really you haven't missed much.

So summer's here.  The kids are out of school.  Carter is very excited about this; Sarah Cate not so much because she's missing her friends.  And Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Taragjini, her teachers from last year that we had to say good morning to and goodbye to every single day THIS year.  They've been in the pool practically every day since we put it up in May.  Me, I'm working.  Dallas is working.  We have responsibilities.  We don't get to play in the pool every day, which sucks.

But there's this new thing I'm doing that I wanted to tell you about.  And I kinda wasn't sure I wanted everyone and their brother to know about it, but now I do because I really think there's a huge opportunity here for you people who pray.  I've been volunteering at the Trinity Rescue Mission in downtown Jacksonville.  It's a homeless shelter for men and women and children, but with a Christian bent.  I serve dinner and clean the kitchen and talk to everybody.  It's not any different than anything I do at home but they say thank you.  There's the difference.  Anyhow, now that I've had a chance to get to know some of the guys there, I really think they could go on your prayer list.  

Everybody who's in the "program" has a job every day and their day is scheduled down to the minute.  They don't leave the shelter and they don't have visitors and they don't talk to anyone who's also not in the shelter.  They start the day with a Proverbs Bible study, then they eat breakfast, then they work.  They have a different guest pastor every night give a sermon and they do music  before they eat dinner.

There's Cameron, who worked in the kitchen.  Cameron was from Tampa but had moved around to several states, "following girls," and ended up in Jacksonville with nowhere to go, high on I don't know what.  He'd been in the program for 50 days -- which means he was more than halfway through it, and clean for 50 days, and on his way to the next phase, where he'd get more freedom.  One night we were serving dinner and he said something about another guy and I asked him, "Who?" and he said, "That guy that just came to the door totally trashed."  One of the other guys in the kitchen, James (who's about nine feet tall) said, "Yeah, he used to be in the program but he just walked out one day and now he's just an overnighter; he's trashed all the time."  Cameron then said, "I don't mind seeing him like that because it reminds me how close I am to being trashed all the time.  Everybody here is one day away from that."

The next week Cameron was gone.  Apparently something happened, I'm not sure what, and they kicked him and James out.  All I could gather was "not following the rules."  He hasn't been back as an overnighter (just someone who comes in for dinner and to sleep; they make them leave in the morning).  I'm praying he comes back.

There's Matt.  He's 34 days sober and says, "I just try to follow the rules so they don't have any reason to kick me out."  He's gained 30 pounds in the month he's been in, but he says "my gut is prettier than track marks."

There's a guy named Warren who says, 'but you can call me Cowboy."  Because he was a cowboy.  He rode bulls on the rodeo circuit.

And then Mike.  He looked so sad sitting at dinner that I asked him if he was okay.  He sighed and said, "Bad day, I guess.  Bad week.  Bad life."  Apparently he's in construction and had a job, but there wasn't enough work.  He lost his house and his car.  We talked for a little while, he asked me to pray for him to get a job, and then by the time he left to go to bed he was smiling.  

So pray for these guys if you do that sort of thing.  Life's a little rougher for them right now.  Maybe next time I'll tell you about someone else.

How Much is Enough?

Mary Poppins said, "Enough is as good as a feast."  I struggle with that, even though I think it's true.  Food and money are my weak points -- I always want more of both.

We just finished a couple chapters in our Bible study on contentment and giving, more specifically grace giving, and the chapters covered things like using resources wisely, what belongs to God and what belongs to you, tithing, being happy with what you have, etc.  I don't know about you but these are areas I've always needed help on, especially since having children tends to be a rather expensive endeavor.  They're not cheap, and I want them to have everything they need and a few things they want.  But there's a balance that must be struck, and there's a message you want to send.  They pay attention to how you spend your money, whether you think they do or not.

I recently watched an episode of Hoarders.  It followed the story of two people who just couldn't help themselves with acquiring STUFF.  One lady used copious quantities of coupons to get hundreds of dollars worth of stuff for something like $1.98.  Which I heartily applaud; any time you can lower your grocery bill like that, I genuflect in your approximate direction.  I have nothing whatsoever against using coupons, either -- I use them when I have them and I dearly love that whole buy-one-get-one free concept.  But this lady clipped EVERY coupon she saw, and bought hundreds of dollars worth of deodorant.  Scads of cans of artichokes, gaggles of green beans, prides of soda, armies of bug spray, flocks of toilet paper.  Then she brought it all home and just stacked it in piles (because the shelving, or cabinets, or wherever you put stuff had long since been buried in stuff).  How many artichokes CAN one eat, anyway?  Another lady shopped consignment sales and thrift shops, and I think her issue was just that she loved getting a "deal."  She walked around her house and could tell you what she paid for just about everything, and it was $1 - $2 type stuff.  She loved buying purses; I couldn't tell you how many she had.  Maybe a hundred?  She would go to thrift shops and pick up anything.  It didn't seem to matter what it was or whether she needed it, it was just whether or not it was a "good deal."

I think most of the people on this show have mental issues.  Seriously; it seemed like they all had a traumatic event at some point in their lives that they could pinpoint when their problem started.  And I'm not knocking that because I get it, they need help.  But I also totally get the draw of finding a "deal."  When you get something for less than retail price, you kind of feel like you've won.  But shopping shouldn't feed your emotions or fill a hole, and that's where I take issue.  I enjoy a trip to Target as much as anybody (especially without kids; do not judge me), but I have to guard against just buying stuff because it's a good deal, because I think that's where you get into trouble, financially speaking.

Our Bible study talked about contentment, specifically godly contentment, and this is something I strive for and don't always quite make.  It's being happy with what you have, independent of circumstances and conditions.  It's so easy to look at what somebody else has, or is, and find yourself lacking.  Their hair is cuter, they dress nicer, they have a bigger house, their kids have more to play with.  It's also easy to find yourself making up for a childhood where you had nothing.  I spoke to a lady at church about this one time and she mentioned that having grown up during the Depression, she had less than nothing.  When she grew up and got married and had an extra income, she found herself buying things she didn't even need, just because she could.  It filled a hole inside, just having the ability to pay for something.  That minute at the checkout was golden; it made her forget how poor her family had once been, how deprived they were, sometimes of even the most basic necessities.  It was like winning.  But when she got home, she said, the guilt would set in.  She hid how much she spent from her husband.  She was embarrassed at how much she spent, but she couldn't help doing it.  It also didn't help that when she and her husband retired, she had less income but more time to shop, and that was entertainment for her.  She told me she'd rationalize it -- she was buying this for someone else; she had every intention of donating it to charity; the product she had really needed to be replaced.  But she had so much STUFF that the garage was so full they couldn't park in it, and they had to buy a little outdoor shed just to hold all her STUFF, and it was all random stuff that she couldn't remember what it all was until she went out there to look at.  And she's telling me all this like, "Yeah, I know I've got issues but I'm not going to change."

The Bible study had a line, "To be content with little is difficult for us because we fail to trust God to provide what we need.  Instead we worry and plan."  That, and "The more one has, the more one wants."  I find those two statements to hit a little hard, because I think they're true.  It's difficult to truly be content where you are, with what you have, all of the time.  And I'm not saying shopping can't be entertainment, because I think it can.  But when that entertainment becomes a way to fill a need, when God should be the fulfillment of that need, that's where I think you get into trouble.  Or when it becomes a distraction from dealing with something, you know, retail therapy, that's when you have to start paying attention.  Over the years I've struggled with remembering that all my resources are really God's resources; that He's given me everything I "have."  Yes, I work for my paycheck, but who gave me this brain?  Who gave me this job?  Who made me healthy so I could work?

I really have to pay attention when I walk into a store.  Do I really need this?  If I'm buying something for someone, is it something that I think they're going to love because it's perfect for them, or am I letting the fact that it's a really good deal drive my purchase?  Am I buying something because I "deserve" it?  Am I celebrating?  It's really hard to stick to a list, but I try to do that.  I desperately want to ensure that I'm using my resources the best way I can -- and even though I don't always get it right, it's something I keep praying will get easier.  In case you're someone who also struggles with this -- here are some other things I've done, or considered:

1)  Stay out of the store.  You can't spend money if you're not there.  Stay off the internet.  Find something else to do.  Play Candy Crush and tell me how to get past level 162.  BECAUSE IT'S IMPOSSIBLE.

2)  Make your list before you go, and if you're going grocery shopping, don't make that list or go shopping when you're hungry!  And don't take Dallas with you because you will hit the ice cream aisle HARD.

3)  If you've found yourself picking up something you really want and it's not on the list, ask yourself if you really truly want this item.  Do I have something just like it at home?  Why exactly do I want it so bad?  Or is this more of an emotional purchase?  If it's going to make you happy to buy it and then when you get it home you're just going to feel guilty about it, maybe don't buy it to start with.

4)  When you get home, show your purchases to your partner.  It doesn't matter if he/she cares.  Just own up to what you bought.  Except the tampons, because he probably doesn't care about that.  Or the M&Ms.  Because he will eat them.  Hide those.

5)  If you've bought something you really don't need, take it back immediately.

6)  If you're buying something for someone else, consider whether it's something they are missing, really want, would use, and the purpose behind the purchase.  Are you ingratiating yourself to them?  Are you just trying to tell them you love them?  If so, just try saying that to them.  Are you trying to control them?  (EG, buying clothes for your teenage daughter because you think she dresses like a tramp.  Wait -- no, definitely keep the clothes if she dresses like a tramp.)

7)   Review your shopping cart before you check out.  If there's anything in there that's not on your list, chuck it.  Or do what my mom does -- take everything you have just hauled around the store and put it back in some incredibly random place.  (She knows we kid her about this -- and we've all picked up the same habit -- so I'm not talking behind her back.)  Or get this -- take your random things and make piles to freak people out.  A bottle of wine next to a pregnancy test kit next to the baby food.  Put a book about how to take care of your pet snake next to an empty animal carrier with the door open and a flashlight.

8)  Ask yourself if you're shopping because you're bored, or if you're trying to escape something.  I feed my face when I'm bored.  Can you do something else instead?  If you find yourself in stores a lot for this reason, can you do something else, like volunteer somewhere?  Can you find another way to spend your time that benefits somebody?

9)  Do you need to switch currency?  Sometimes paying with dollars hurts more.  It's easier to see that pot of money go down when you have cash in hand, more so than by swiping a card.  Dave Ramsey envelopes, anyone?  Maybe you could pay someone in pennies and make them crazy.  Small victories.

10)  Be aware of the emotional context of the purchase.  Are you trying to fill a need?  Exactly what purpose does the purchase serve?  If you just like the feeling of spending money, can you spend it in a different area?  Can you try limiting your feel-good spending to a certain amount per month?   Allow it, but don't go overboard to the point where you feel guilty about it?

It's so easy to be discontented in this world.  And it's easy to overlook your own inadequacies and own up to them.  But do try to be honest and ask yourself whether you're using your resources wisely and for the right purposes.  Except for M&Ms.  Always buy the M&Ms.