Spending my life savings at the Scholastic Book Fair

Posted on November 19, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

The Scholastic Book Fair. I thought I must’ve already posted about it at some point, but after a not-so-thorough search of my blog, it appears I haven’t.

It has taken five years of overpriced, fluffy, animal-faced journals for me to reach a breaking point.

Multiple times a year the Scholastic book fair has arrived at BB’s school.

The first year I sent BB with $20. Apparently that was enough for 1.5 books. Or toys disguised as books.

The next time I sent her with $30. It’s hard to remember, but I’m pretty sure she came home with no books.

The next time I gave her $40 and said,

“You can buy one non-book item and the rest must be for books. You should also buy a book for your classroom.”

BB came home with two books and another furry journal to join our animal, notebook family. They’re all still waiting for someone to write in them.

BB would try to tell you that she needs the matching fluffy pen for $7.99.

Now it’s RB’s turn. I can’t remember if BB had the Scholastic Book Fair in kindergarten. Those were odd, end of COVID days. But either way, it was not a memorable moment.

This week I gave RB $30 and told her she could buy one non-book item and the rest should be for books.

RB is renowned for making terrible choices, so really it’s on me for giving her $30 and expecting a decent outcome.

Months ago I found nail polish painted all over the downstairs bathroom sink. I took away all of RB’s nail polish. She was unbothered. Warning sign NUMERO UNO.

Meanwhile if I take anything away from BB she’s heartbroken, never mind that she wouldn’t in a million years do something she knows she’s not supposed to do.

So imagine my surprise when I asked RB about the odd sparkly stuff in her doll’s hair.

She looked at me. I asked again,

“What did you put in your doll’s hair?!”

“Nail polish.”

“NAIL POLISH?!?!!”

“Yeah.”

“I thought I took away all of your nail polish?!!!”

“I still had some in my room.”

Shame on me for letting this happen again!

I may now have eliminated RB’s access to nail polish, but only time will tell, because you sure as heck can’t take her word for it.

This Monday I gave RB $30 and off she went. I gave BB $40 so she could also buy a book for her classroom.

I did not give that additional $10 to RB because that was one too many instructions for someone who’s not prone to following any instructions.

BB, not happy with $40, tried to make the case for more money, she said,

“So-and-so gets $100.”

“REALLY?!?”

“Yes.”

That’s a lot of stuffy journals. I stood my ground,

“You can have $30 or $40. Or add your own money.”

Guess what amount she went with.

Meanwhile RB came home very pleased with herself. The good news is that she stretched the $30 a lot further than I’ve seen BB do. She got five books! Only problem is two of them are chapter books with no pictures and one is a board book with a total of ten words.

I’d still say this was a win if she were happy with them. She ran to the couch excited to “read” and yelled out in anger,

“THIS BOOK HAS NO PICTURES!!!”

Good grief! She rushed around, picked books because she liked their covers, and didn’t even bother to look inside.

If anyone needs a Bluey board book, let me know. It does have pictures and is a quick read.

Did someone say Belize?!?

Posted on October 17, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I don’t know what’s happening. I just bought a plane ticket and I’m leaving for Belize in two weeks.

Yesterday the owner of my agency said a colleague could no longer take the trip, so the spot was open if anyone wanted it.

I watched as one advisor after another said they wished they could go, but couldn’t.

I looked at my calendar. Nothing there aside from a MILLION kids’ activities.

I reached out to our family childcare support. They were a go.

Now I needed to run it by Captain when he got home from work. I wrote on our white board on the fridge: “???BELIZE???” With that many question marks. As if I’d forget to talk about it.

I was on the fence. I just got home from Italy and I’m headed to the Swiss/Austrian Alps the beginning of December. I don’t want to burden my family too much.

Captain thought I should go.

That’s all I needed to hear!

Just when I thought my body was settling into winter-sweatsuit mode, we are back in a bikini, headed for the second largest barrier reef in the world and the best diving in the western hemisphere.

I will continue to shave my legs.

I am not a last minute type of person. I’m a planner. Go figure.

I have been shocked by how many clients book last minute trips. This is great for them and I’m very happy to do it.

My ideal time frame for planning trips for my own family is six months to over a year away. I had my eye on the Galápagos two years before we took the trip. And right now I’ve got my eye on Africa 2027.

I have never in my life booked a flight for myself two weeks before I leave.

Here I am. Ticketed. I just need to shave my legs and repack my freshly put away summer wardrobe.

I’m in excited disbelief that I’m leaving the country again so soon. I said to Captain,

“Who am I? I’m some new version of Jessica.”

“No! You’re the old Jessica!”

That’s right! I AM the old Jessica. Past Jessica’s passport was so full she had to send it away for more pages.

The main difference is that twenty-something-year-old Jessica did not have the word “luxury” associated with any part of her travels. Although she did as a child and she was luxury adjacent during her summer as a deckhand/stewardess on a yacht in the south of France.

Present, middle-aged Jessica has adapted well to the change.

I’m still, as Captain would say, rugged. I can carry my own luggage. But if someone wants to carry it for me, who am I to say no? And there’s nothing wrong with a chocolate on my pillow at night.

BB is not pleased that I’m peacing out again, but the promise of a Belizean stuffie is helping my case.

Are you thinking about somewhere warm? Maybe the Caribbean or maybe somewhere else nearby? Do you want adventure, culture, beach, jungle and amazing sea life?

Yes please!

I leave the day after Halloween. It’s daylight savings weekend. We gain an hour. My kids will be complete, post-Halloween trash and not my problem.

See you soon Belize!

If you need me, I can plan your trip from here!

Weighted vests. Need I say more?

Posted on August 14, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I’ve had my nose to the grindstone this past year and when I looked up everyone was wearing a weighted vest.

Or at least people my age.

My beach buddy uses one and she mentioned it last summer, but unlike this summer, there was no sign of them in my news feed, so I continued to go for my weightless walks.

A couple weeks ago I told her I was considering one. Two more beach buddies piped up about their vests.

Then I was driving back from Cuffy’s (can never have too many things that say Cape Cod), and there was a woman walking with what I can now identify immediately as a weighted vest.

Everybody’s been wearing them and I had no idea. Now it was just a matter of which vest.

As I perused the reviews of different vests, one said,

“If you’re middle-aged and you don’t have one, what are you even doing?”

What have I been doing?

I’ve been walking unweighted.

Some people said the vest is ridiculous and just put on a backpack.

It brought me back 8.5 years to when we lived in Boston and the only way BB breastfed or slept was in a moving sling attached to my body.

I went for so many weighted walks.

I’m not sure how much money someone would have to pay me to do that again, but the feeling of the weighted vest high up on the top of my body as opposed to a backpack or a baby is worth the purchase.

I’m addicted to walking. I’m going to walk no matter what. I don’t have unlimited time for walking. So adding the weight and getting some thigh burn feels ideal.

Don’t even talk to me about running. Not my thing. Not happening. Last time I ran was when we were on the beach and RB said,

“I need to go potty, the poop is coming out.”

Even then I slowed to a trot.

My thighs need to be ready for skiing in the Alps by the first week of December. I do not intend to be the last travel advisor down the mountain.

In the meantime, I’ll be wandering around suburbia 16 pounds heavier. Chest hair optional.

When I put in weighted vests, these popped up. Good to know there are hairy options.

This weighted vest kept gaining weight and was a little fussy.

Forgive the million photos of BB in the sling. There are SO MANY. She lived in there for the better part of a year.

Weighted baby sling arrives in suburbia, circa 2017. I did not consider myself middle-aged yet.

This is 43! My passport is renewed. I’m ready

Posted on July 24, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

What a birthday month!

I do not know how to have the kids home and be on vacation and be working and be sailing and be beaching and be blogging.

I got it all done except for the blogging. So here I am. I didn’t forget about you. I never would/could. Someone will have to claw the keyboard out of my old, withered hands.

It will be like taking away my car keys. Until then I’m clinging to my early forties.

A 38-year-old beach friend was surprised to learn I was turning 43. She looked me up and down and said,

“So there’s hope for me!”

Which I have 100% taken as a compliment, but also, how much aging does she expect to incur in five years?

BB turned nine! It’s her last year in single digits. She is quickly moving into her tween years. She’s still wearing a Rufflebutt swimsuit, but I was told this is the last year for that.

I’m still wearing a string bikini, someone can tell me when it’s my last year for that. Maybe my 5-year younger beach buddy.

As I put RB to bed she asked her usual litany of random unanswerable questions, like:

“Why is that calendar with the chickens still here?”

“I don’t know. This is my brother’s room.”

“Didn’t you play in here?”

“Yes, but mainly in my room with my barbies and American Girl doll.”

RB turns to me in shock,

“They had American Doll Girls in the OLD DAYS?”

The old days? Yup. They did.

RB shakes her head. She seems to have forgotten all about the perplexing chickens.

Captain is on the verge of turning 51, so he’s really from the old days.

He just bought a new pair of shoes and I said,

“Those look spiffy!”

“SPIFFY?!?”

“What’s wrong with spiffy?”

“Sounds like a compliment for a guy in his sixties.”

Oh. Hmmm.

He took his brand-new, white shoes and we went sailing for a week. The sibling fighting may have aged us more than a week, but other than that it was amazing.

One of their favorite fights to have is,

“She’s LOOKING AT ME!”

If they have this fight on a huge, wide-open beach, you can imagine how many looks there were on a contained sailboat.

Most looks were mitigated with a bag of potato chips.

This is the wisdom I’ve gained in old age, don’t underestimate the power of a snack.

I’ve also learned that I can beach and work. Sail and work. Parent and work is trickier. And apparently I cannot blog and do any other tasks.

I’ll talk to you in August, before or after Captain gets one year closer to being genuinely spiffy.

P.S. BB is now proofreading my posts… so that’s how old we really are.

I think the dolls are making him look younger, but it’s hard to say.

Bye preschool!!! Can I still pop by for drop off and pick up just to chat with my favorite people?

Posted on June 26, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

Everyday last week I was crying or on the verge of crying. My baby graduated from pre-k. We said goodbye to our beloved preschool where I’ve been taking both of our babies for six years.

All I have to do is look at a piece of art work and tears come to my eyes. And there is so much art work.

Although there’s one piece of art work that does NOT bring tears to my eyes:

Hard to say what Captain has done to edge me out for this win, but if it’s lifting up legos, I’d like to point out I’m also very capable of that. I have lifted many a lego.

The cut off for kindergarten is September 1st. RB is a fall birthday so she’s well on her way to 6. She would’ve gotten on the bus a year ago if someone had let her.

Last year the alphabet and her name were still very mysterious, so it was nice to make some progress there.

RB is ready. I’m ready. IT’S JUST SO NOSTALGIC!

After six years at this wonderful school, I feel a little beside myself. My baby is not a baby and I said goodbye to some of our favorite people.

When RB started, she was two and still in pull-ups. Now she thinks she’s ready for high school.

Meanwhile BB just finished her best year yet and got teary when she needed to say goodbye to her amazing teacher. Yes, I may have gotten a little teary too. It was A WEEK.

I don’t remember having any tears on the last day of school when I was 8. I just remember pure peace-out energy. So that’s a testament to her 3rd grade teacher!

The sweet, emotional tears are over and we’ve moved onto the banshee cries of the wronged sibling.

I’m not sure what this summer will bring. We’re functioning on a week to week basis. We’ve decamped for the Cape, but have already been back home twice. I haven’t booked any summer camps, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. We’re going sailing, but only if my kids can agree to not tear each other apart.

BB says,

“I need my alone time.”

RB follows her around for the next hour.

They both whine and complain.

I say,

“BEDTIME!”

BB says,

“Can we have a sleepover?”

“Really? You just spent the last hour trying to get away from your sister.”

“I know. I still want a sleepover with her.”

Three hours later everyone is asleep.

I’ve instituted a No-Tattling Policy. It really seems to have helped. But ask me again in August.

And as teary as I am about my babies growing up, it’ll be a beautiful thing to put both kiddos on the 8am bus in September.

Until then, Happy Summer!!!

What is going on with that leg? Is that a high-school leg?

That’s my beach bag on the kitchen table. This is how I solved the never-ending conundrum of “SHE’S LOOKING AT ME!!!”

Bye magical, outdoor classroom at preschool 🥹😭😭

Here’s to my new favorite town

Posted on May 21, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I don’t have to move after all!

I didn’t know that I would cry tears of joy over a town election, but I did.

National politics may still be deplorable, but short of leaving the country, we’re not going anywhere.

We’re so committed to staying that we bought a new sactional for my home office. I do not think it’s deductible.

For Mother’s Day I received this note from five-year-old RB:

I’ll address this in chronological order:

There are people in my family with blue eyes; I am not one of them.

I do not love to eat chicken. My family loves to eat chicken, so here we are.

One of my favorite drinks may be wine… just wondering why the daily coffee didn’t make the cut.

A box of instant mac ‘n cheese is one of my specialties.

I do dearly love to exercise.

I’m not sure what games she’s referring to, but piggy-back ride up to bed is a favorite of mine.

Snuggles are the best.

And snuggles on my new sactional are great too.

I don’t know who has put together a Lovesac sactional before, BUT it made me question all of my life choices.

I’m surprised there was no offer of white-glove service. Not that we would have paid extra for that. I know a guy. But still.

I ended up carrying in all fifteen boxes by myself, including six that weighed fifty-three pounds.

The boxes arrived at 1pm when Captain was at the office and I had dreams of having my coffee (2nd favorite drink) on my new sactional the next morning.

After blood, sweat, so much sweat, no tears, we hit 11:30pm and Captain pondered the pillows. He said,

“I’m wondering if that pillow should be switched with this one.”

I could not have finished the couch in nine hours without Captain, but I also couldn’t find any level of caring about the pillows.

They’re lucky to be stuffed into their cases and they may now go wherever they want.

“I have to go to bed.”

We are less than a week into our 60-day trial period with free returns, but it’s safe to say, she’s not going anywhere.

In part because she’s very comfortable, but also because I CAN’T IMAGINE BOXING THIS WHOLE THING UP.

As I struggled for hours to stuff cushions into washable covers. I said multiple times,

“I’m never washing this couch.”

Lies. All lies. Three days into the new couch, RB vomited all over it. Into the wash it went.

It came out perfect and putting one cushion back into its case is really not bad compared to upholstering twenty-seven different parts of the couch.

Come on over, have a seat, have a glass of wine, some chicken and mac ‘n cheese and some snuggles. I’m here.

On town election night I was at the Boston Ballet with a dear friend and the bathroom stall had this sign on the door. I don’t remember this from before, but maybe that’s because I’m always in a mad rush. It’s definitely worth holding onto your hopes and dreams. Overrides do happen.

Alexa? I know you’re listening. Goodbye

Posted on March 25, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

It started the way some three-way relationships must: Captain felt strongly in favor and I didn’t feel AS strongly NOT in favor.

Four years ago I wracked my brain for a good Hanukkah/Christmas gift for Captain. He’s into “smart” home features: lights, cameras, air quality controls. Things that all have a mind of their own.

He’d been wanting an Alexa. Kept talking about it. I kept saying,

“NO.”

Why would I voluntarily put something in the heart of our home that was listening to everything?

But then I reasoned, theoretically my phone can already do that. So I surprised Captain with an Amazon Echo.

As it turns out, it was really a gift to our small children who could now play fart sounds on request. Especially after they purchased the fart extension pack.

I’m still not sure I’ve turned off voice purchasing. Surprise surprise, the security settings are difficult to navigate. And some settings are on track to disappear altogether.

This email came over a week ago:

“We are reaching out to let you know that the Alexa feature ‘Do Not Send Voice Recordings’ that you enabled on your supported Echo device(s) will no longer be available beginning March 28th, 2025.”

Bozos wants our voice recordings and will take them.

As with most of the bad news these days, it doesn’t surprise me and I let it go. I’m trying to maintain some level of a peaceful life without being in a constant rage about current events.

The idea of saying goodbye to Alexa crosses my mind, but not only is she in our living room, she’s in our library and our bedroom too. Unless I’m willing to throttle Captain’s dreams for a “smart” home, I figure she’s here to stay.

As we’re snuggled in bed he asks,

“Did you see the email about Alexa?”

“YES. What are we going to do?”

“I unplugged the library and bedroom one.”

“OH! GOOD!!!”

And now all that’s left is to unplug the one in the living room… The one who so willingly plays Taylor Swift ALL DAY LONG.

Out of the blue, RB turned to me and in a tone of voice that melted my heart, she sighed,

“Mommy? I love you.”

“I love you too my sweet baby!”

The warm, fuzzy feeling didn’t last long.

RB returned to the living room and resumed yelling at Alexa to play Taylor Swift. When RB finally managed to get the song she wanted, she said in the same adoring voice she had just used with me,

“Alexa? I love you.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

The super special feeling RB’s ‘I love you’ gave me a minute ago fizzled out.

Here I am, doing all the things, but I would be just as loved if I sat on a shelf, played Taylor Swift and farted.

So we can discuss the pros and cons of a smart speaker until it’s tired of listening to us, but the younger half of my household is still in love.

We’re waiting for the new gen Apple homepod. Because we might as well spread our voice recordings around to all the billionaires? I have no idea what the answer is.

Yes we could go back to turning on the lights ourselves and making our own fart noises. Sounds archaic.

Smart cameras keep your eyes open, April 1st is almost upon us.

Luxury Adventure, who wants in?

Posted on March 13, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

And so we’re home. For now. I leave for Croatia in three weeks. By myself. For work.

I need to go: hiking, biking, kayaking, white-water rafting, oyster sampling, private yacht chartering, horseback riding, so that I’ll be able to advise you on the best Croatian trip possible.

I’m leaving my babies behind. These are the sacrifices I must make.

It is bittersweet. I would love to do this adventure with my whole family. Someday we can. BUT in the meantime, I’ll bring them back some candy.

RB loves candy. She’s been counting her future Easter eggs ever since her Halloween candy ran out months ago.

BB will not be so easily won over, but there must be a Croatian stuffy to be had.

As for Captain, my gift to him will be my return. He’s concerned I’m not going to survive white-water rafting. He insisted on travel insurance so there will be funds for the repatriation of my body.

The fact that I’ve gone white-water rafting before and in higher-class rapids, does not seem to reassure him.

I also went white-water boogie boarding and again, here I am.

I’m a luxury travel advisor, but when encouraged to pick a specialization, I created: “Luxury Adventure Specialist.”

Captain agreed that that was a good fit for me.

I’m not sure what it means, but it sure sounds like someone who stays in 5-star hotels and goes white-water rafting.

That can be you too. Or luxury hotels and yoga. Or luxury hotels and a safari. The adventure options are really endless.

I just applied for a trip that’s 5-star hotels and skiing. Keeping my adventure options open.

That required a two-minute video application. I emerged from my room after an hour of filming myself.

Feeling ridiculous and self-conscious I checked in with Captain,

“I finished my video application.”

“Oh you did?”

“You didn’t hear me?!”

“No! I thought you were in a meeting.”

A meeting with myself where I say the same thing over and over again, hoping somehow that the millionth try will be acceptable to whatever nebulous standard I’m holding myself to.

It is done and sent off. With any luck I’ll add Austria to my list of upcoming adventures, after Sardinia this September.

Good times with Jess and sometimes her family, but not always.