Mama Nuggle

Perhaps it’s odd that my first conversation with you discusses the financial costs associated with having children. Note: I did not say raising children… referring to the lifetime commitment of providing for their well being and fulfilling their needs. That is a post for a different day. Nope, I meant the sheer act of welcoming kids into your home.

I had a moment yesterday in which I realized that – duh, here’s a newsflash for ya –
Kids are expensive.

My moment of clarity occurred just after spending $249 at Super Wal-Mart.

I am a Wal-Mart addict. There, I’ve said it.

The conversation with myself went something like this, “How the hell did I spend $249 - in less than an hour? After just having spent $106 at Costco? And $52 at the grocery store? What did I freaking BUY???? Oh yes, I remember now… this is what happens you buy 3 kinds of diapers for two kids … and formula… and coffee to get through the wee morning hours… and conditioner guaranteed to make hair grow to “beautiful lengths”… and that special UVB-blocking, anti-aging sunscreen (because who wants a wrinkled toddler?)…and milk… and food for a cookout with my in-laws this weekend… and two gift cards for wedding anniversaries… and bottled water to make the formula because we have never – in four years – replaced the water filter on the fridge and I couldn’t possibly feed my precious baby girl tap water, could I? And the list goes on.

Let me back up just a bit and introduce myself properly. I am a full time working mother (currently on maternity leave) to a toddler boy and an infant girl. I am also a step-mom to a teenage girl. My husband and I have been married for nine years. When we first met, all Jeremy had in his fridge was a six pack of Diet Coke, a box of wine, and a bag of animal crackers on the counter. His stove only had one working burner. The oven didn’t work at all. Bats lived in his attic. That should have told me that food and entertaining were not high on his priority list.

And this summer, our house has been, to put it nicely, Grand Central Freaking Station. Jeremy and I are… ahem… homebodies. We like people, we really do. We just don’t enjoy entertaining that much… because, quite frankly, having “company” is expensive, and a lot of work. Really, we love our friends and family. Have I convinced you yet that I am not an anti-social bitch? The truth of the matter is that Jeremy and I are just a little OCD about cleanliness and order…

OK, we are very OCD.
Yes, I said it.
Out loud, and in print.
Kind of like that guy Jeff on Flipping Out. But not that bad. Just kinda.

And well, the only way to maintain cleanliness and order in a house with three minors is to just have people – (*gasp!*) – stay home.

Cue the music from Jaws.

I have come to realize that the chaos that is our house right now has absolutely NOTHING to do with Jeremy and I, and everything to do with the kids. We were NEVER this popular before having kids. (There comes a point when every adult realizes your parents created you just so that you could produce grandchildren. In that shocking moment of clarity, you suddenly realize that no one gives a flying fig Newton about you. It’s all about the kids / grandkids. Do I sound bitter to you? Nah, I’m just being snarky – and realistic.) Anyway, we have burned through copious amounts of money in the past 6 months. All because of the kids. Well, mostly anyway.

For starters, in anticipation of the new baby, we redecorated all of the kids’ rooms. Meanwhile, Jeremy and I live with my childhood furniture (But honey, it’s an antique now!) Then, we (and by “we” I mean “I”) purchased excessive amounts of clothes for baby-Caitlin-on-the-way because, seriously, I couldn’t expect her to wear those hand-me-down “future quarterback” onsies, now could I? The kid now has a wardrobe to rival Paris Hilton and a shoe collection to make Imelda Marcos envious. I mean, hello, Eva Longoria’s stylist called, and asked if she could borrow Caitlin’s gold, sparkly, three inch stiletto Jimmy Choo’s “just this once?” (Ok, maybe Caitlin doesn’t have Jimmy Choo’s. They are really Christian Loboutain’s. Just kidding. Sorta.)

My shopping sprees included several to the Mecca of consumer excess (AKA ToysRUs) so we could celebrate Ty’s second birthday with about 20 friends and family members. My entire family stayed for the weekend. We ran out of beds. Someone got the couch. My mom. Happy Mother’s Day. Ouch! This over-the-top Disney production was then followed by a rock-star worthy surprise baby shower at the house, for me.

It was a very cool shower, and it came none too soon, for the next weekend we unexpectedly welcomed baby Caitlin. Six weeks early(!) Caitlin then spent 23 days in the NICU. (A really long story for another day. I shudder to think what the bill for that adventure will be.)

Meanwhile, to help us with Ty, our moms came and stayed while we made hundreds of trips to the hospital to see baby girl. For two people who suck at making regular meals a priority (What do you mean Diet Pepsi and Doritos snarfed down while driving to work are not a well balanced breakfast?!?! I beg to differ) we actually had to plan and provide meals. At normal times, like real adults do. And not on TV trays. (What do you mean 11 PM isn’t dinner time? It is ‘round here, yo.) And yes, that meant shopping for food. I could hear the cash register cha-ching-ing each time I buckled up my seatbelt for another trip to Super Wal-Mart to find provisions for the troops.

Oh, did I mention that Jeremy and I had a wedding anniversary in there? And Jeremy’s 36th birthday? And a new preemie at home? And we booked Chani on one… two… three… count ‘em… FOUR flights this summer to spend time with us and other far-flung family members? And it was her 14th birthday the day she arrived here? And she got a party, along with a PSP, a new haircut, and an entire new wardrobe (because, seriously, she like, NEEDED clothes, or so she tells us.)

It was at this point that VISA called, to inquire about “excessive and suspicious activity, of a potentially fraudulent nature.” I wanted to say “Hell no, it wasn’t us. Go catch the bastards running up my bill!” But then I had a vision of Jeremy being surrounded by sheriff’s deputies with weapons drawn as he tried to fill up his Dodge 1500 Ram truck with gas costing $4 a gallon. (I won’t even go there on current gas prices.) And realized I could get arrested and go to jail for making a false report. And then who would go to Wal-Mart for the family?

Why didn’t I realize how flippin’ expensive kids were before we had them? Well,
A. I am a moron.
B. I wouldn’t have listened anyway.
C. I wouldn’t trade them for the world. They just won’t get an inheritance.

By the way, did I mention that (post-Caitlin) I have decided to get an IUD to prevent further overspending? Is it just me, or has any one else ever found themselves having these “stop the insanity” moments? Please, help a sista out here…. let me know that I am not alone on this one!
Drop me a note, if you get a chance. I’ll respond as soon as I get back… from Wal-Mart.

Next up: the emotional cost of having kids.

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