“Hon, if you want, you can take $25 from my paycheck and spend it at the bookstore.”

He didn’t understand why this made me laugh.

I love to read. LOVE it. I’ve been an avid reader as long as I can remember. I often have two or three books going at once - one for the van, one for my bed and one downstairs. I read magazines, blogs, catalogs - if nothing else is available, I’ve been known to flip the cereal box and read it. I’m not a fan of the library - often, I want a specific book and I want it immediately, preferring to possess it rather than wait the (sometimes interminable) time frame for those popular books. I just prefer to own them. I know, I know -paying for books instead of borrowing them isn’t good common sense. I can’t help it.

Purchasing so many books can occasionally backfire, however. The storage aspect can be challenging, the possibility of purchasing an already owned book (don’t laugh, I’ve done it more times than I care to think), and on and on. I was wracking my brain as to how I could bring more books into my house, barring the skimpy $25 that I was offered, when I remembered about all the books listed here on Zwaggle. Books are easy to ship, not heavy enough to be cost prohibitive, and even better, I could post all of the things lying around this house my kids are no longer using and use those Zoints for more books for myself… I mean for my kids.

That measly $25, with which I could purchase one book at the bookstore, could bring me in more than ten, if I played my cards right.

I can’t wait to go shopping in the book section. Care to join me?

Last week, I planned a special getaway for my family. I’d completed our taxes, and we were due a refund. We were badly in need of some family time, and so I planned a trip to a local indoor water park. What else is refund money good for, right? I mean, really, it was either a family trip or new shoes for myself, and I can’t always be selfish.

I told no one where we were going; just advised each kid to pack an overnight bag. At the last minute, I ran back into the house and grabbed everyones bathing suits. When we arrived, there was much rejoicing and shouting, and we quickly changed and jumped into the pool. On our way downstairs, we spotted numerous kids with plastic wands. Aiming the wands at pictures, treasure chests and movie screens produced amazing effects. The treasure chests opened, jewels lit up, and fairies tumbled through the air. We finally determined that the plastic wands were the reason, and detailed questions led us to the gift shop. We prepared the kids by warning them that, if the wands were at all pricey, we wouldn’t purchase them.

Well. At $15 a piece, that was a price we could live with - for one kid. So we told them we’d buy one and they could share. Except that the wand needed to have a game loaded on to it - for $10. So the wand, made of cheap plastic from China, cost us $25, and we used it for two hours. Two hours during which time the four younger kids fought incessantly over who’s turn it was to use the wand, when it would be their turn next, all served with a side of, “Let me toss myself on the floor so that all in the area will know my agony of having to take turns.”

Yes, indeed. It was a spectacular waste of time and energy, but most of all money. If anyone is going to the same water park, let me know and I’ll post the wand on Zwaggle. Hey, maybe we should have a category here - amusement park paraphernalia. Think of how much money we could save each other!

The thing about having a family is that they seem to need to eat OFTEN. I’m not kidding - it seems like every time I turn around, I’ve run out of one thing or another. We have a larger size family (right now we are holding steady with six kids, and no further plans on the horizon), so that computes to a gallon of milk a day, 2 loaves of bread, a dozen eggs and 3 boxes of cereal in a week. Not to mention my daily need for lots and lots of coffee. All of this food - not to mention the paper products and the personal stuff - means that I find myself in the grocery more than once a week. Part of that is my own disorganization, and part is that we just run out of food at an alarming rate. Teenagers will do that to a fridge.

I have been a mother long enough to know that I don’t do well with a baby, toddler or preschooler at the store. The crying, the fussing, the tantrums - and that’s just me. No, I leave the littles at home, and rarely take the others, preferring to enjoy my kid free time. You know, if you wear an iPod and bring a coffee, restocking the shelves can be almost enjoyable. But my oldest, my teenage boy, really wanted to shop with me and so I brought him.

Arming him with his own cart was my first mistake. Instead of walking sedately behind me, he ran ahead, popping wheelies on the cart and careening down the frozen food aisle around the little old ladies. He tossed in freezer pops, sugary cereals and chips, claiming that he’s been waiting all his life to have this type of shopping experience. Well, yeah, I’d love to shop on someone else’s dollar for junk food! He teased me with rude comments, unrolled the foil, bumped me with his cart, and generally made a nuisance of himself. He argued in favor of Pop-Tarts and against whole wheat pasta. Much like a preschooler.

No, the kicker occurred at the checkout. I placed a bag of chips on the conveyor belt - open and half eaten. Same with the loaf of French bread, the cheese sticks and the granola bars. When he handed the tortillas to the cashier, he asked if she’d give them right back, so he could eat them on the way home. With raised eyebrows, she asked, “How much of this food will make it home?” Not much, my friend.

You know I’ll be back next week, but I’ll be going alone next time - not sure my pocketbook nor my sanity can handle the hit.