My mom and I are collaborating on a yard sale later this month.

I have given away arm loads of outgrown baby rompers, tiny shoes, and board books, but I’m hoping to making a little cash from some of our larger items.

There’s the once versatile jogging stroller that is collecting dust since Miss A would rather run or cruise in our more spacious convertible bike trailer, the red Dora potty seat she no longer uses, and the musical table toy that I helped Miss C unwrap on her first birthday.

Although these are just material things and I am more than happy to move clutter out of our home, I occasionally get a wistful twinge of time remembered when I see something that belongs to another era of parenting.

Now the girls are sharing most of their toys, although sometimes begrudgingly, and I no longer need a diaper bag of gear for a short trip out. The mish mash of squeaky baby toys and bag of Cheerios stashed in my purse have been replaced with hair accessories and plastic bracelets, and hot pink Hello Kitty sandals, not soft-soled baby moccasins, adorn the girls’ feet.

While I am happily reclaiming my purse, the girls are gaining independence and confidence and their own collection of purses. I work to achieve the balance between bystander and nurturer, between friend and parent. My daughters no longer need me to stand beside them and hold their hands as they find their footing; they need me to stand at a safe distance and watch them run, arms wide open, toward whatever life has to offer.

Talbots taste, Target budget? Visit me at Blissfully Domestic, where I wrote about putting together a fashionable black-and-white look for work, without forking over major cash. Be sure to read the comments as I mention a couple of great websites for finding fun jewelry on a budget.

Speaking of major cash, I freaked out early this week while looking at our grocery and dining out expenses so far this year in Quicken. We have a little over $500 less going out per month now that Miss C is in kindergarten and we’re not writing daycare tuition checks, not to mention Miss A is diaper free, but we are spending money left and right on groceries and dining out.

I finally checked out our local Aldi as my mom always has the most incredible avocados and other goodies from their store (and my blog buddy Amy is the Aldi queen). I loaded up my cart Tuesday and spent a whopping $33. It seems I can’t get out of Publix for a quick bread and milk run for less than $50. The store was clean and well organized. Although they have a variety of miscellaneous bargains in the center of the store, I didn’t feel compelled to shop for 9 million other things like I do at Wal-Hell, where I’m convinced they pipe subliminal messages throughout the store sound system so that you’ll spend at least 45 minutes and $100 in the store.

I am a huge fan of Publix, especially for seafood and meat and the girls are addicted to their free bakery cookies, but I’m going to try the Aldi’s experiment for a while. So far the girls love their cereal bars and generic strawberry Newtons, and we had a Southwest style chicken salad with a black bean and corn relish and blue tortilla chips last night and Tuesday with all the ingredients, except for the chicken, from Aldi. Of course now we have plans the next three nights that involve eating out, but I have a coupon for the pizza place we’re eating at tonight.

How much do you spend on groceries per week? Not counting dog food or toiletries and other vital necessities such as beer and wine, we are spending about $110 a week and that’s with a 5-year-old who lives on apples, store brand bread, and yogurt. This is pretty much with me being lazy and not clipping coupons and being a slacker meal planner. I do buy a lot of store brands, and I try to stock up on whatever meat is on sale. Still, I’m curious to see how I can whittle down our grocery bill if I actually try. What a concept!

Sonia Sunshine sent out a group prom invite and I have to admit I had to dig deep into the memory banks for senior prom 1987.

One of the best memories of my senior prom, besides my date (more on that later), was my dress. It was a baby blue Zum Zum tea length dress with a cool diagonal waistline. I bought it off the rack at the local mall. Oh, how I wish I had kept that dress because Zum Zum is still rockin’ the prom wear. Back then I had bigger things to think about than saving my dress for posterity, like making sure my Clairol hot rollered hair was sufficiently plastered, because apparently I needed a hair style that would withstand a hurricane out on the dance floor. I wish I had kept the dress so that I could share it with the girls, but in a fit of late teen stupidity, just one of many I might add, I gave it away. Not that I’d be able to squeeze myself into it as I think I weighed 95 pounds soaking wet 21 years ago, but still.

Senior prom was a classy “Never Say Goodbye” Bon Jovi themed event held in the school cafeteria. My date picked me up in his mom’s white family sedan. We posed for photos in the entry way and out on the lawn.

I had the fake tanning bed glow. He had the cheesie moustache. By the time the evening closed he and I had had a serious parking session in his mom’s car in some country cow field off the main highway in town and I reeked of Polo cologne. This was a happy event that was just the start of a cruel summer that would have made a perfect John Hughes movie. I left for college that August and generally went hog wild boy crazy, spending my weekends developing a taste for cheap keg beer (you know, when I wasn’t studying), finally out of the house and feeling a little wild and carefree since my mother had always been rather strict. Meanwhile my boyfriend at home finished high school and generally felt trapped in a town where he didn’t feel he quite fit in, writing me long love letters and probably wondering why he still loved me when I was generally an immature girl who played his emotions in a mini melodrama that would have been great inspiration for a big hair metal band ballad. I’d drive home for the weekends in my little white sports car and revel in the status of college life, only to take off again and leave him in small Southern town-ville.

My senior prom date may have “just” been a sophomore, but he was, and still is, an old soul. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed brooding type who typically arrived late to school, he wore a denim jacket and stood out to me in a sea of boys who drove pick up trucks and listened to Hank Williams Jr. My date listened to Jimmy Buffett and the Eagles. He hung out with the older guys from my class. He bought cigarettes and cheap beer at the local corner market. He made mediocore grades, but was smart as a whip. He did crazy things on the weekends, and I marveled at how he never got caught. He had a bad boy streak, but I knew him as a kind, sensitive, super intelligent guy. He was nothing but a gentleman to me and the epitomy of politeness to my mother and he won her over immediately.

Good thing I finally grew up and figured all this out, since our 11th wedding anniversary is this Saturday.

I’m thinking of starting an exclusive club called Hot Moms With Shnozes (HMWS.)

Jen at Get in the Car met Bossy on her grand Saturn tour across America and Jen mentioned Bossy commenting on her nose being cute. Jen declared that Bossy would be receiving her rhinoplasty fund as she’s apparently always thought her nose is a little on the well-endowed side.

Miss C has told me more than once lately that she does not like her nose. Now Miss C has a “perfect” little straight nose in my opinion. Miss A does, too. So far it looks like they’ve inherited their noses from their Daddy. Miss C wants my nose genes, however, which are inherited from my own Daddy.

“Mommy I want a crooked nose like yours!”

The girl wants a crooked nose.

(Smacks self on the forehead and wonders how to deal with that one.)

“Miss C you have a beautiful nose! It’s like Cinderella’s nose. People want a nose like yours.”

“I don’t like it. It’s stupid and, and…it’s too straight!”

(Smacks self on the forehead again.)

And then I explain to my daughter that I haven’t always liked my nose. That, in fact, I sometimes wish I had a cute little straight nose just like hers.

In those hormone-riddled years of high school and junior high, especially, I obsessed over the imperfectness of my nose and wondered what ever happened to my cute little straight nose from elementary school days. Now I realize how silly and superficial that was. Oh the unnecessary crooked nose angst!

Go forth and celebrate your crooked nose, admire your freckles, love your love handles, cherish your chubby cheeks, covet your curly hair…whatever unique physical features that make you you. Because someone may truly long for what you see in your self as physical imperfection, and that someone may be your own child.

Do you ever look at your little girl (or little boy, I should add) and have your breath nearly taken away by suddenly seeing them as a teenager?

Nah, me neither.

This was taken a few weeks ago when Miss C had strep throat (I wish I looked this pretty when I was sick) after we had stopped for a treat at a great local toy store. She picked out a pair of five dollar tiny butterfly earrings that fasten with a magnet and paid for them from money she’d earned by doing chores around the house. They give her that sense of being more grown up without the commitment of actual pierced ears.

I know the pierced ears request is just one of many that will pave the way to adolescence. It’s a simple desire to be a little bit more grown up, but signals the beginning of many more complex issues to come.

Right now I’m just hoping I can make it through her kindergarten award ceremony in a few weeks without crying.

Don’t let the sweet smocking fool you!

Potty training by 3 was apparently divine intervention–God’s way of preventing me from going ballistic when Miss A started demonstrating behavior of a most sassy like nature. We seemed to bypass the Terrible Twos with Miss A, but she’s now making up for that. While I fully encourage to be an overachiever, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.

For some insane reason, I thought it would be fun to have a girls’ morning at church Sunday and sit together, rather than send them to the kids’ program far, far away in another section of the church while I listened intently to the sermon zoned out and rested my weary brain under the guise of church. The hubby stayed home sick with a bad sinus infection was smart enough to stay home with the dogs.

I knew it was probably not ideal to let Miss C talk me into sitting on the 8th row at church, even though we sat at the end of the row. Oh foolish mommy! Our church is a fairly large rock star Jesus type assembly, so I was wishfully thinking that the girls would sing and clap and then sit peacefully through the sermon as I’d packed enough distractions for an entire bus load of children. Besides, I had secured the most awesome of bribes–girly booty of magnaminous proportions–Barbie fruit snacks (before the Botox edition.)

Unfortunately about 40 minutes into the service Miss C snatched Miss A’s pastel green sunglasses from the goody bag I’d packed and put them on, while Miss A declared “Those are MINE! Take them off!” and proceeded to play tug of war with the glasses while they were still on Miss C’s head. I threatened Miss A in my loudest screaming “you are so going to get it” mommy whisper. We had made it this far without incident, but I was starting to sweat bullets freak the hell out as the preacher closed the sermon. Could we make it? The proverbial last straw was when Miss A laid down in her seat backwards and stuck her feet up in the air. Suddenly I morphed into that token mother. The one practically dragging her child kicking through church and to the parking lot and threatening to spank her while people either smiled in empathy or looked on like I was the worse mother on the planet and they were about to speed dial Super Nanny. The real clincher was the fact that the pastor’s message was on the treasures of parenting. No, I am not kidding.

And on the 8th day? God created children’s church, and it was good and all the frazzled parents shouted “Amen!” and didn’t long for a drink at high noon on Sunday in a county that doesn’t even sell beer until that time.

Amy, the last entrant who commented “The monogram necklace is super cute!,” is the winner! Thanks to everyone who entered the giveaway. This was great fun.

Per usual, I am fashionably late to the party.

Give Simple has graciously offered up one of the pretty, fun, feminine necklaces from Charming Expressions as part of the ginormous Bloggy Giveaways Quarterly Carnival taking place this week.

Designed by Shawnell Williams of Fort Worth, Texas, each glass charm is hand-crafted and has its own unique imperfections that add to the loveliness.

To enter, visit the Charming Expressions page at Give Simple and then leave a comment here telling me which of the necklaces is your favorite (it’s hard to choose, trust me.) You’ll then be eligible for the random drawing for the Charming Expressions necklace of your choice.

Entries will be accepted through midnight Saturday, April 26 and then I’ll draw a winner’s name from all eligible comments on Sunday. You don’t need a blog or website to enter, but you do need to leave a valid e-mail address so that I can contact you, should you be the big winnah!

p.s. Don’t forget my earlier announcement — you can take 10% off all purchases at Give Simple through April 30 with the code BLONDEMOM.