February: Blowing Through the Green Stuff

As of today, I've been sick for pretty much 26 days straight, not that I'm counting.

Yes, the month of February was a rude reminder of just how much green stuff the green stuff costs. After a smashingly good start on our own little version of Oprah's Debt Diet in January, we're ready to write off February. We're also ready for that Jean Chatzsky to dump that woman who yelled at her in a hair salon and take up residence in our (almost) germ-free household.

Last weekend, absolutely sick and tired of being sick and tired and with Twin A and Twin B acting like raging lunatics, I looked at them and asked if they had ever seen a mommy's head spin around super fast and shoot off like rocket. They said no. I told them to stay tuned and to watch out for all the green stuff that would likely shoot out of mommy's head.

And, then I wondered, if I really could do that, thinking it would an efficient way to rid of the never-ending amount of mucus that clouded my head -- and my judgment. Yes, apparently, at some point, frustrated with pretty much everything, I decided the thing that would make everything better was a new pair of jeans. I peeled out of driveway, headed for the nearest Old Navy and limped in.

February started with a me developing nasty case of strep throat, which is nothing like "just a sore throat" as a friend thought. No, no, no. This was so intense and horrible that at one I point I was Googling "meningitis" convinced I was going to die. Truly. It was a happy moment when the swab shoved down my throat revealed only strep and the doctor assured me I would live.

They sent me home with antibiotics which I promptly took and then promptly developed hives due to an allergic reaction. Not sure how someone gets to be my age and finds out they are allergic to all things in the penicillin family, but that's another Google search all together. They gave me another drug, which I was also allergic to and they tried a third, which did the same so I gave up. The doctor told me that strep would likely come back if I didn't "finish the course."

But, of course, there was no time to finish and no time for allergic reactions, because I was set for surgery on my foot. Well, my toe really. With age comes glamorous things like bone spurs and bunions. And after years of suffering in the name of fashion in trendy shoes, I succumbed to orthodics, decided to make Birkenstocks an "all-occasion" shoe and scheduled the surgery.

After drilling on my toe bones like a dentist might do on your tooth and not quite fully recovered from strep, I started on a course of narcotics for the pain in my piggies. And while I wasn't allergic to the narcotics, I did manage to lose about three days of my life. I popped a pill and I was out. Gone. No clue. With the buffet of pills on my bedside, Husband was convinced I overdosed, was mixing meds and contemplated calling poison control. And as spacey as I was , I wondered if my head really did spin off like a rocket and landed somewhere in outer space.

But the narcotics made me forget the strep throat pain and my foot no longer throbbed with every beat of my heart and just when things were looking up the entire FrugalJo Family developed The World's Longest And Grossest Cold, lasting pretty much the entire duration of the Olympics.

The the volume of green stuff in our home was truly stunning. Between actual green stuff and the vomit from coughing up green stuff, we could have filled a five-gallon bucket. Husband and I were so out of it that we could barely find the energy to make fun of the cheesy Olympic coverage which, to us, was a sure sign of truly being sick. We called in reinforcements and our parents drove hours to takes shifts until they all became sick, despite being armed with Purell, Lysol and Vitamin C .

I'm certainly not a superhero (despite my trying by wearing Supergirl underwear everyday), but with me pretty much out of running the household for a month, and with a sick Husband and sick kids, it made for an interesting month financially.

While Husband has paid time off when he's sick, SAHMs don't get "time off," time laying around certainly isn't paid and there aren't any coworkers to pick up the slack. In fact, having a SAHM down and out costs big.

We relied on take out food -- a lot-- since I had no energy to meal plan, grocery shop and cook. And it seems like we were at Walgreens every other day and being at Walgreens waiting for prescriptions meant wandering the isles which meant some Valentine items, a couple cheesy magazines, some magnifying glasses for Twin A and Twin B, seven boxes of Puffs Plus with Lotion, countless over the counter medications, some lotion for Husband's cracked thumb and one Stack and Spin storage contain system that we saw on TV and convinced ourselves that if we could organize our storage containers that maybe the rest of lives might follow suit. Tack on six doctor visits, eight different prescriptions, and a surgery -- all when our deductible hasn't been met and well, the month was a financial fiasco.

And so last weekend, still hobbling from toe surgery and with head full of mucus and a pocket full of tissues, I limped into Old Navy, convinced that buying new jeans would make me feel better about all our expenses. The Stack and Spin was fun to assemble and it felt great to get rid of some melted Rubbermaid lids, but there was a still a void that could only be filled with something super cute. Intellectually, I know new jeans will not make anything better, but emotionally, well, for the first time in weeks, I was excited to get up the next morning. And if a $17 pair of pants from Old Navy gave me that motivation, then, for me it was worth it.

And while I may be able to justify the one pair of jeans, I haven't come up with any logical rational for the two other pair of jeans (40% off) the clearance skirt (last summer's style and just .50!!) the belt (70% off) and the four books for the kiddos ($5 each). It was bad and not in the budget. But neither was strep, the toe or the Olympic-size colds. I have buyer's remorse but removed all the tags, and hoped to save the books for birthday presents, but caved and let Twin A and Twin B have them that night.

Yes, we blew through the green stuff in February. And with March upon us, the Cheese Puff Theory will be back in full force. Purell will be considered a necessary purchase and we'll be running to the mailbox every day, hoping the green stuff from Uncle Sam will soon appear, relieving both our financial headaches and sinus strain, allowing us to breathe a little easier.

Lyrics to Rocket Mom, by Elton John, tweaked by FrugalJo

He packed my bags last night pre-foot surgery
Zero hour nine a.m.
And I’m gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the earth so much I miss my husband
It’s lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight

And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the mom they think I am at home
Oh no no no I’m a rocket mom
Rocket mom burning out my fuse up here alone

Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don’t understand
It’s just my job seven days a week
A rocket mom, a rocket mom

And I think it’s gonna be a long long time...