Blue Collar Mom's Top Ten Recession Solutions

Hey George...so nice of you to mail our rebate checks early...I feel like one of Pavlov's dogs that just received a treat. Only the treat is merely a miniscule snack in a current life of starvation....and I'm not salivating.

BUT, this blue collar mom is going to remain optimistic. I've devised several strategies to beat the recession. C'mon...turns those frowns upside down people...we'll get through this with a little medication, booze and blue collar mom creativity...

1. Turn off the heat and use blow dryers to wake up the frozen kids, hubby and pets. Go for a low watt cheapie at CVS. The blow dryer can also double as a crude microwave in a pinch.

2. If rice can be rationed, why not ration toilet paper. Number 1's get one square, Number 2's get, well, naturally two squares. My brother was in the military and told me how to creatively make a small amount work for even your worst output.

3. Go in on some livestock with the neighbors. That's right...invest in a cow, a pig, couple chickens....sounds like fun doesn't it? Take turns feeding the poor things and once they get good and fat....bon appetit!

4. Create a community youth hostile...turn a neighbor's barn into housing for the local kids...no electricity because they'll waste it anyway...make em use the great outdoors as the bathroom to save on septic pumps, and force them to grow and cook their own food...kind of like backyard Kid Nation...

5. Say goodbye to the playdates...this gas guzzling ritual always leaves one parent doing all the driving...

6. Speaking of gas...just don't drive....let's all just put up a stance and stay the hell home. No work...gas saved. No grocery store because we have the kids growing produce and grown ups raising livestock...gas saved. Can you imagine the panic we would create?...and how much fun we would all have??? For once, we'd know who the heck lives next door to us and what their good, bad and ugly sides look like...free entertainment...no need for cable now.

7. Go naked in the summer. Why fall victim to fashion week's trends? Just waltz your butt around in your birthday suit....believe me...this would prompt Washington to dole us out some serious cash.

8. Feign illness. Seeing as we all have to have health insurance, let's make use of it. Be sure to create an illness that requires hospitalization. Before you call the ambulance, turn off the circuit breaker in your house to save electricity and kill the heat. Always report pain at a 10 to prolong the stay...extra time is money saved, the food is free and you'll have people waiting on you plus free meds. (am writing from my hospital bed now...bad case of dysentery from my missionary work)

9. Try out for game shows...someone's gotta win and they fly you out for free. I wanna be on the Price is Right with Drew Carey...

10. Start a recession themed phone sex business....oh yeah...tell me how poor you are...mmmm...you really are broke....soooooo broke......you make me feel so poor....so needy.....oh my god I am so broke! I am so close to foreclosure....so close.....almost there.....yes...yes...yes....I've foreclosed!!!

Angelina Jolie is NOT Pregnant

Yeah…yeah…yeah, I saw her belly at the Spirit Awards but I still say Angelina finally ate a big steak and cheese sub. Either that or she hid Jennifer Aniston in there out of charity to bring her closer to Brad.

After all, I have been congratulated at least fifteen times for being pregnant and I wasn’t!

Look people. Don’t ever congratulate someone on their belly or make any pregnancy related comments or rumors unless you are 100% sure there is a baby on board. If you break this rule you are just asking for trouble. Expect bowling balls up your wazoo, black eyes, ruptured pelvises, bloody noses and dislocated shoulders. This is just a major faux-pas in my book. I carry brass knuckles, pepper spray and my dog’s electric fence collar for people like you.

After the birth of my first child Evan, I made my first post pregnancy appearance. This blue collar mom didn’t get a chance to do it on Ellen like Christine Aguilera. I made my hot debut at…Stop & Shop. I got dressed to the nines in a shiny little pair of silky pants, underwear the size of pita breads and a sultry little red top. I was nursing and udderly proud of my ample breasts. I carefully applied my makeup, slipped on my Payless heels and ventured out to flaunt my post-pregnancy figure. When I arrived at the grocery store, I immediately noticed all heads turning in my direction. In fact, they were gawking! My confidence was immediately boosted. I pretended the aisles were the catwalk, and deliberately toppled over the oranges to bend over and show off my cute pita clad butt. With all the stares I was getting, you would have thought I was Angelina.

I approached the checkout ready to make my grande exit. The cashier was looking at me in amazement. I thought she was impressed I was out and about so soon after delivery. Then she said in sheer shock “You haven’t had that baby yet”! Insert the following sound effects: cat screeching, dishes breaking, gun shots and a Psycho movie scream...plus another cat screech. When I returned home, my mother looked at me disgusted and said “You went out looking like that”? I looked down and noticed I forgot to put in my nursing pads and had circular shaped breast milk stains where my nipples were. More sounds effects please. Better yet, bring in the sound effects guy from Bourne Ultimatum. He won an Oscar.

Once I complained of a backache while picking up my littlest Aidan at pre-school. One of the other mothers said ”Baby resting on a nerve”? I replied through clenched teeth, “What baby”? She responded by telling me it was so obvious I was at least five months along and backache is common during the SECOND trimester”...ouuuuch. The ambulance arrived shortly after to haul her away. I felt like Hillary Swank in Million Dollar Baby. No pun intended.

I admit it, I have a fat lower ab, it droops, there are stretch marks that could span US 1 and there is nothing I can do about it. After two kids and years of yo-yo dieting, this is what blue collar moms look like. I can’t afford the tummy tuck. Instead, I go for the girdle. The more metal pins securing the thing the better. When I was dating my first husband he took me to New York to see Les Miserables. God that Broadway was so symbolic of our three and a half year relationship.

My girdle’s metal pins set off the alarms at Logan Airport and I was groped by security in the midsection for hours. The ribbing in the girdle felt like I was packing drugs so I was strip searched. It was the best action I had had in ages. Those silly men and their big bad batons…still brings back a little chuckle…even after all these years.

Why should Angelina have to formally announce she’s pregnant? I tried that once and it was a flop. I hired a press secretary (my daschund Jackson), faxed press releases and held the big event on Beacon Hill. Gotta love Fox for graciously covering it. However, they mistook my message for an animal pro-life movement and aired it on the noon news. Jackson must have made a few typos on the press release with his paws…damn that dog!

Meet My Alter Ego - What is a Blue Collar Mom?

Let me be the first to admit that I am a blue collar mom. Not ashamed of my ailing social status in the least either. In fact, I love being the underdog, the penny pincher, the resourceful mom next door, the aluminum can recycler, the coupon cutter, the dog poop picker upper, the dirty diaper changer, the mom on the block who gets her mail with her ass hanging out of her jammies, no bra, but strutting down to that mailbox as if I am the hottest, richest woman on the block. My two kids are yelling out the front door asking if they have mail. I always yell back “Who the hell is going to write you! Don’t encourage mail..it means I’ll have to spend thirty nine cents (soon to be forty one) on a stamp to write people back. Not to mention…you kids are letting all my heat out that open door. Now shut your traps and close my door or I’ll beat you with a stick”. That’s a famous line of my mother’s and best of all sticks are free. Such is the glamorous life I lead and ironically I love every second of it. So do my kids…I think.

On the outside, I look like I am the law abiding citizen (with a few exceptions that I will go to confession for), a kind woman who volunteers at school, makes cookies for the bake sales, and even goes to church every Sunday. I work a humble job in human services, volunteer my time for charitable events, garden everyday in the summer, grow my own herbs and vegetables to save money and canoe and fish with my husband and kids. I tote the kids to their music lessons, teach a yoga class on Monday nights for lunch money, teach cooking classes for other blue collar moms to pay the heat, and send dinners and baked goodies to my neighbors. Most would never peg me as blue collar at all because of my second job as an on-air chef for a grocery store chain. The extra money pays off my $100,000 in debt and the pay has barely made a dent. Most think I make a fortune. But deep down, I know what my grim salary is. I don’t try to keep up appearances and I’m not afraid to tell the world about what it is REALLY like living the blue collar mom life.

Let me start off by saying that I am a brazen, direct and highly unconventional woman who knows how to get the job done with antics the average person would never dare try. Okay, here’s one that will shock you. I never have money to tip the delivery guys…ya know, like the Sears guy when he comes to haul away the piece of crap dryer I bought on closeout. Instead of giving him money I do not have, I give him prescriptions which I do have plenty of.

I have Celexa for my anxiety (also prevents me from beating my children with a stick), Trazadone for my insomnia, and Diazepam for flights (or so I told my doctor). For a ten dollar medical-co pay, I have tips to last a lifetime. I save painkillers from surgeries, stockpile valium from my divorce, and have muscle relaxants on hand for the painful shoulders and backs that plague all of us blue collar moms. I have a lovely little pharmacy for those tipping occasions and let me tell you something, not one contractor, driver or delivery person has ever turned them down. Yes, it is illegal, but it is survival and no one has died yet.

I attribute this to the careful instructions I provide when I dispense my pills. I tell them “You don’t know me, don’t take these with alcohol and don’t share them with your friends”. Then I read them in detail the “precautions” label along with the listed side effects, and advise them that in the rare event they do have nausea, vomiting, intestinal bleeding or heart palpitations that they forget I ever existed. I should have gone to medical school because I haven’t lost a patient yet. I’ve even tipped the AAA tow truck driver in marijuana. This is reserved for exceptional service. He even drove to my home the next day to thank me personally. I highly doubt any Newbury Street employee would ever do that for me! Unethical, yes and I am not proud of my antics, but when you struggle financially you’ll do almost anything to stay afloat. I no longer continue this pot practice, however because the Avon lady’s son gave it up. I could try and get it from my doctor for medicinal purposes. I can tell her the economy, my mortgage and growing taxes are making me vomit.

Speaking of doctors and medications here’s a blue collar mom tip for you. If you are on medications like I am, I have found a very great way to save money by cutting my co-pays in half while gaining more mileage on my meds. Our health care system is so screwed up and here is why. Thirty tablets of 20 mg of Celexa costs me a co-pay of ten dollars and lasts one month. Just for kicks one day, I told my doctor I needed to double my dose. I received 40mg tablets for thirty days and the co-pay was still ten dollars. So what do I do? I break those little suckers in half and stretch the prescription out two months and save a total of $60 per year. I have to give us blue collar moms a real pat on the back because we are always one step ahead of the game. Stick around because this blue collar mom has a lot of tricks up her sleeve and it feels refreshing to finally unload.