Sister Sunshine Charlotte Needs to Blow Off Some Steam

I clearly haven't been on my game lately. Sister Sunshine Charlotte hasn't made nearly enough appearances in the recent past. People have forgotten that sometimes I am the person in the room to be feared.

It's about to be the season of No More Mrs. Nice Guy.

Various Ramblings of a Quasi-Insane Mother of Five:

If you wanted a different color, perhaps you should have been on the committee or like come to a business meeting or something. Otherwise, just say, "Thank you for all of your hard work." (And the fact that you complain makes it difficult for me to like you.) This counts on voting and choosing ANYTHING in the church. If you don't come and participate regularly, why should anyone care what you think? Seriously. 

We are rural. I'm 45 minutes away from a Wal-Mart. One way. And 15 minutes from fast food. One way. We still have phone line Internet. We only have one flat-screened tv--the rest are 'fat' televisions. We use the DVD option on Netflix because the Internet isn't reliable enough to watch a movie from the Internet on the television and the fat tv in the living room doesn't have that capability. It doesn't make us backward--it makes us quaint. (And if you make fun of us for that, I know where your heart lies--it's in your possessions and status which makes you a pauper.) 

I buy literally everything my kids wear from consignment shops. I think handing a child a $200+ purse makes you a complete moron. If I had that kind of money lying around, my kids still won't be receiving $200.00 purses. It's asinine. In fact, the only new non-consumables we buy are undergarments, shoes, bathing suits, sports gear, bedding, and mattresses. The rest of it is fine used. It doesn't make us poor--it makes us frugal and resourceful. (And if you look down on that, I know that you are only concerned with appearance and not with inner man, which makes you a poseur.) 

We only eat out maximum once a week. And then I'm paying to feed eight-to-twelve people at every sit down, so it's rare. That's why we never go anywhere, not because we aren't adventurous enough. It's because we can't afford it. It doesn't make us uncultured--it means more family meals at home with the people I love the most in the world. (We've stayed in some of the nicest homes in the world, eaten with the finest people, served in the most humble manner. You are showing yourself to be a snob.) 

What happened to being content with what we have and living within our means? It's exhausting trying to make everyone happy, so I quit that futile quest ages ago. Now if God's good with it, I'm good with it.