week nineteen: no more pedicures

DIY Pedicure instructions can be found here, y’all!

In the process of cleaning out my house and re-examining the stupid shit I’ve purchased (and still continue to buy, let’s be real), I’ve also come to realize that I not only spend MONEY on dumb shit, but also TIME.

It can be overwhelming to manage all of the upkeep involved with being a woman. I mean, look at all of the miscellaneous crap we have to do just to be reasonably hot:

1. Hair did. (In my instance, this is not just cut, but cut pretty frequently as it’s super short AND two-hour bleaching sessions as it’s platinum blonde. The payoff being that it basically looks cute without much fuss. At least I think so, maybe I look like Kate Gosselin. Who knows?)

2. Waxing. Choocha, brows… and yes, upper lip. Sorry! My mom is Portuguese, what am I supposed to do?!

3. Pedicures/Manicures. OK, to be honest I never get manicures. I think painted nails look kind of lame and they never last anyways. I keep mine short and they look OK. Maybe a bit boyish, but whatever.

Those are in my regular rotation, along with other services here and there – a facial, teeth cleaning, that sort of thing. Y’all bitches might have other crap on your to-do list – but essentially what I’m saying is that grooming seems to take up a lot of my free time.

And nothing shines a big spotlight on your frivolous use of time like being a mom, let me tell you. I get about 37 minutes of “free” time a day – that is, specifically, time when I’m not with the baby, making food, working, doing laundry, updating the family blog for the grandparents, writing thank you notes, paying the bills, yadda yadda yadda. Please don’t get me wrong – women that aren’t moms are crazy busy, too. It’s just for me, it didn’t become overwhelming until baby entered the picture.

So when I needed a pedicure and couldn’t get one scheduled due to husband’s crazy work schedule and lack of babysitting options, it occurred to me that a fucking pedicure is not that hard. DIY that shit!

I decided I wasn’t going to outsource pedicures any more. Not necessarily from a money standpoint – although saving $42 on each one sounds awesome! (And yes I realize that’s insane person money for a pedi, but I just can’t get on board with those strip mall fungus emporiums, and I patronized the fancy lady pedi place.)

So saving money is good, but really, I am looking to save a bit of time. A pedi by itself isn’t a huge time sink, but the 40-minute roundtrip drive and the purtying up I had to do beforehand cost me valuable free time. Free time I wanted to spend doing something else. Plus, I have to get someone to watch the baby, and I hate wasting precious babysitting favors on “errands.” I want my mom to babysit so I can go to the track and drink margaritas, bitches!

So I gathered up all my materials – and surprisingly, I had just about everything I needed for a decent pedi DIY. I soaked, filed, exfoliated, pumiced, base coated and painted. From start to finish it takes me about 25 minutes. I do it during baby’s second nap and put terrible, god-awful TV on and turn my brain off. Next time I’m making a margarita!

Bonus: Over my blogging break, I took another carload of crap to the thrift store, yay! I think that makes six total. Also sold a bit more junk on eBay, made $100. Although I spent it before the Paypal payments even rolled in on three dresses from the Gap Outlet. We’ll see if they were a wise investment. Now that I’m typing it… maybe not so much.

week eight: the cure for the common medicine cabinet

As I opened our medicine cabinet (not really a “medicine cabinet” per se, more like a shelf in a cabinet in our kitchen) multiple times this week, a nearly empty box of Claritin would fall out. This scenario repeated itself about three times before my slow ass brain connected enough neurons to realize the medicine cabinet was stuffed with worthless shit and was ideal for a minimalism attack. Hellloooooo, week eight!

I read up a bit this week about minimalist medicine cabinets. Pulled up a lot of articles with people brushing their teeth with baking soda. Huh. Not for me. Plus, this isn’t like a bathroom medicine cabinet where I store my deodorant and butterscotch-flavored lube, it’s the place where we keep prescriptions, pain relievers, etc. And for some reason, four sets of fingernail clippers. (???)

I wanted a couple articles on the “must-haves” for a medicine cabinet/first aid station. I found Faith Janes’ Minimize Your Medicine Cabinet article at Minimalist at Home, and she had some great points. Mainly that you don’t need a cure on hand for every little thing. Pick some basics. It’s not like you can’t go to the drugstore if you wake up and need something specific. Additionally, the buying in bulk strategy may not be best when it comes to meds. If your family is going through a 1000-count bottle of ibuprofen in a year (hell, in THREE YEARS), you might have a problem. Keep it small to keep it simple and space efficient.

I also liked this article from LifeScript on the 10 items that you should have in your medicinal arsenal. I didn’t end up stocking everything on the list, but it was a handy reference list.

So here’s a before pic…

And here’s what I tossed:

1. A crapton of expired medicine.

2. Vitamins. Maybe I should take them, but I don’t. I just DON’T. I figure we use the juicer a couple times a month, so I’m good. Frozen yogurt is full of vitamins, anyways.

3. Boxes. I like using a lazy susan in the medicine cabinet and it works well for bottled meds. But cold medicine, Claritin, etc., comes in ginormous stupid boxes that tip over easily. So I tossed like items into small, stackable containers and threw out the giant half-empty boxes. I did make sure all the unboxed meds had instructions and expiry dates printed on the blister pack, though.

4. Fingernail clippers. They belong in the bathroom, not the kitchen. (I AM TALKING TO YOU, HUSBAND.)

And here’s the after pic:

Here’s my list of stuff I kept:

1. Cold remedies. This includes a bit of NyQuil/DayQuil, Zicam and a variety of Cold-Eeze lozenges. Note: if you don’t use Zicam and Cold-Eeze the minute you think you’re getting  cold YOU SHOULD GO BUY SOME RIGHT NOW. That shit is the shit. The Zicam tastes like hippie ass (seriously), but it WORKS. I found the rapid melt tablets were the least offensive and least likely to cause retching. Worth it though.

2. Ouchie boo-boo fixers. I rounded up the four half-filled bandage boxes (clear, neon, Star Wars and Hello Kitty) and combined them with a tube of Neosporin in a bin. I figure if I need Neosporin, I probably will need a Band-Aid, too.

3. Basic pain relievers. Ibuprofren, Tylenol and a small thing of low-dose aspirin. One for muscle pain, one for headaches and one in case some old person is hanging out at my house and has a heart attack.

4. Baby shit. Baby Tylenol, baby Orajel (don’t judge, it works) and hippie dippie homeopathic teething tablets. (See? We like to mix our modern medicine with a bit of annoying ass “progressive” alternative therapies.)

5. Random prescriptions we’re currently taking. Pretty much I’m talking about the Codeine-esque stuff I got post-partum that I hoarded, thinking it would be really nice to take one with a glass of wine and watch Inglourious Basterds… you know, like when our baby slept. Haha! Turns out he didn’t sleep until he was about seven months old and now I’m too tired to get faded. I’m hanging onto them, though. They’re good for another year so maybe I can abuse them in the future. Fingers crossed!

6. Tummy tamers. Gas-X and Tums are my friend.

7. Miscellaneous pregnant lady supplements. Folic acid, iron, etc. Hopefully it’s not too long before I’m pregnant again so I’ll hang onto these for now.

8. Also I posted some emergency numbers and medicine dosage info inside the cabinet as well, just in case. Seems like an adult thing to do.

So much cleaner and easier to find what I’m looking for. Plus, there’s plenty of room for additional meds as we need them. Just have to be vigilant about tossing expired stuff – that seemed to be the worst offender. And for reals, go out and buy the Zicam. Every once in a while, the hippies get it right.