Losing my Australian filter: hidden costs...

One of the great things about buying anything in Australia is that the ticket price is the price of the item - with a few exceptions that we can put down to human error, with the item being in the wrong spot the main culprit, although finding out that the item is "on sale" is always a nice surprise. Anyway... My point is that in Australia that $7 sandwich costs $7. Jeans for $50 cost $50.

Things are a little different in the good ol' US of A...

That $7 sandwich is taxed at 8% (roughly the tax charged on items in Kansas), and then there's the 15-20% tip if the sandwich is from a cafe or restaurant. Let's pretend we're feeling rich and generous and we'll tip the waitstaff 20%. So: $7 plus 8% tax AND 20% tip. And that's 20% of the bill which includes the tax.

That $7 sandwich now costs $7.56 after tax, and $9.07 after the generous 20% tip of $1.51.

We can round that all down and say that our $7 sandwich cost us $9, and the waitstaff still received a reasonable tip.

That shop assistant who we buy those $50 jeans from does not get a tip, but there is still 8% tax on the jeans. Once that is added those jeans that seemed like a reasonable purchase cost $54. It's not totally outrageous but it's still a hidden cost and it still frustrates me, because the bigger the ticket price, the bigger the price hike sales tax.

When we arrived I tried my old trick of adding up the prices of grocery items as we went along, just to get a sense of how much our shopping was going to cost. Well, let's just say that my efforts were in vain and that I gave up on the process pretty quickly because there was an 8% surprise at the checkout. It was annoying to say the least.

Why don't they just add the tax before putting prices on menus, stickers, and labels? I really don't know. Perhaps it's because there is taxation from three different levels of government on any item, and the levels of government want their cut of sales tax clearly marked, clearly theirs, and having the tax added at the checkout is the simplest way the Americans can do it.

(*sigh* I can't change the system...)

Before coming to the USA we were warned about the tipping and how it was the done thing, but no one talked about the tax that is added at the point of sale. I guess it's an easy thing to forget if you're just passing through, especially when everything seems so cheap. For me, I'm reminded of the addition of tax with every single transaction, no more so when buy things online and the tax does not help me get to the "free shipping" threshold (and I only aim to reach it, if the threshold is $50 or less, because it's a waste of money otherwise - but this is a tale for another time...).

Plus tip? Plus tax... I'm sort of used to both of these hidden or added costs, but clearly it still bothers me enough to write about it.

Over the weekend we...

Went on a mission to find some new shoes for Jimmy's ever growing feet. Our brief: to find the cheapest, best fitting, daycare appropriate shoes. Hopefully Jimmy would like them too.

We trecked out to Goodwill opshop thrift shop and found no shoes for Jimmy there. We stopped at Dillons East and bought supplies for lunch. Jimmy was being his cheeky self and was scaring us with his scary face (he's making it in all these photos, if you couldn't tell).

Scary right?

We checked out the Salvation Army opshop thrift shop and found one pair that would have done the job. For 2 seconds. Before they fell apart. Hmmm...

We ended up buying new shoes. They went on easily, Jimmy said they were good, so they came home with us. I'm sure we spent more on transport and refreshments than the shoes themselves, so perhaps next time I should just order shoes for Jimmy online - only this time I would have bought shoes that would have been too small. Actually, it was good to have Jimmy involved and trying on the shoes, because we had an idea of what size to get and having Jimmy try them on confirmed our guess. And I'm not sure how his feet seem to go up two sizes at a time... but they do.

Another thing that has been happening: Jimmy has started helping with the washing up. Not every time, but some times. It's early days yet, but he's good at rising the inside of cups, and scrubbing the frying pan. Mostly, I think, Jimmy just likes to feel like he's part of what Daddy and Mummy do, which is very sweet, because...

Our little boy started daycare on Monday, so I spent sometime on the weekend making this little pillow for nap times. The pillow is made from an old shirt that was due for repurposing, and the button closure on the pillowcase is also from the same shirt, mostly because there wasn't enough of the bunting fabric for the cover. I'm really happy how it turned out (and there are two pockets on the button side), and I made a bit of a fuss about making it, telling Jimmy that it was for him, for naptime at daycare, that I was making it just for him. And the best part? The bunting fabric I used was leftover from a bigger pillowcase I made for him, so Jimmy has a little bit of home while he naps.

And then on Monday Jimmy had his first day at daycare...

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a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2015

Jimmy: Cheeky... cheeky boy...

I love this. This is Jimmy. All cheek. All spunk. He is also all sweetness and affection, but he does like to act up for the camera - especially when Daddy is taking the photos, just like here.

Cheap thrills: Eton mess...

Eton mess or mashed up pavlova with extra cream, take your pick. It's tasty and simple, but it does need to be made in advance - at least 3 hours (!!) before you expect to eat it. 

Coming straight out of River Cottage Every Day, although altered somewhat because of Jimmy and taste testing, the Eton mess has been staring at me every time I flip through the fruit section, tempting me with visions of cream and raspberries and summer garden parties or high tea. So, with raspberries dropping to $1 a punnet (and strawberries $3/punnet), I figured it was time to act before berry season ended.

What you need to serve 6, and roughly what I ended up making:

• 2 egg whites worth of meringue, dolloped onto clean baking trays lined with baking paper and cooked at a low temperature (say, 120 C or a little less) for about 2 hours (although mine only needed an hour and a half.
• 1.5 punnets of raspberries and about 1 punnet of strawberries, washed, with the strawberries trimmed and halved - but you'll need a swift hand if you have the sort of kitchen helper I had. Combine the fruit in a bowl, add a tablespoon (or two) of sugar, mix by hand so that you can mash the fruit a little as you go. Place in the fridge for about 2 hours or until needed.
• Cream. The heavy, made for whipping kind, lightly whipped with nothing added. I used the suggested 350 ml, but it was a bit much because I forgot to allow for Jimmy's fruit consumption and all the meringues we just had to taste...

Other fruit combinations to try are:

• kiwifruit and strawberry
• peaches and nectarines (raw or baked so that they are a little caramelised)
• mango (possibly with banana, or peach).

About an hour before serving, break up the meringues and mix with the cream. Mix in the fruit, so that it is covered with the cream but stop before the cream is completely drenched in fruit juices. Cover and set aside (in the fridge if it is summer) until ready to serve. Eat that night.

Definitely toddler approved: simple enough for them to help in the prep; easy and tasty enough for them to gobble down. That said, Jimmy was more interested in the raspberries and strawberries than the cream or his prune (which was an afterthought), and he was more interested in finishing and having a bath than the meringue.

Michael and I may have had two helpings... which seemed a good idea, because the fruit and meringue are really light, but the cream makes it a little heavier and I was feeling very full. Oh I will be making this again, especially as it is really similar to pavlova in taste but so much quicker (and forgiving) in the preparation. Eton mess for the win.

Back to work: choosing a daycare...

This is not a guide for choosing a daycare. This is our approach to finding a daycare for Jimmy, given our set of circumstances and given our circumstances, we really didn't have much choice, but here goes... because ch-ch-ch-changes...

Let's start with an observation:

At the county playgroup there numerous children under the age of 2 who are there with a grandparent, because the parent/s have to work. I thought it was lovely that the children were spending time with a grandparent and not some unrelated carer at a daycare. I'm sure the grandparents were enjoying themselves too, but...

But some friends had been in this situation, with the maternal grandmother looking after her only grandchild. She really seemed to love looking after the baby and the baby loved it too. But the situation was less than ideal: the maternal grandparents were now separated by an ocean and the maternal grandmother could not stay forever. The problem was a lack of daycare spaces for the child's age group - it still is. The child is under 2.

I started looking at the grandparents at playgroup in a different light. Sure, they still loved being with their grandchildren, but they were making a sacrifice because there are so few daycare places for the under 2s.

...

Way back in January, while my sister Asha was visiting, the nearby daycare had an Open House (Open Day for the Australians out there) and we visited. I even put Jimmy on their waiting list, to start April/May. They never called and that was ok.

And then May came around, and we were still in Manhattan, KS, and I lined up work and suddenly we had to seriously start thinking about daycare for Jimmy. Ep!

We have one really, really big constraint when it comes to where to send Jimmy: we don't own a car. For day-to-day living not owning a car is fine, but the instant we want to travel anywhere that is not covered by the bus routes or within walking distance, we either need to travel with friends who own cars or one of us stays behind with Jimmy while the other bikes.

So, requirement 1: daycare must be accessible by foot or bus.

This left us with 2 options. The nearby daycare and the K-State one. We had seen both before actually needing either of them.

I called the nearby one and Jimmy was placed on the waiting list - there was no mention of how many children were between him and the next available spot. Feeling a little lost, and reluctant, I took my time getting around to calling the K-State daycare.

Well! Firstly the person I spoke to couldn't help me, but was able to take my number so that someone who could would be able to get back to me in 48 hours. It took this person nearly a week to call me back (not impressed), then she referred me to information on their website (already read), and informed me that there was a fee of $30 to join the waitlist (already read that), and then she informed me that the waiting list was 17 children long. Seventeen! I said no thank you and ended the conversation.

One daycare option. One.

Our backup plan was to have my Dad (aka Pop) come for a few months and look after Jimmy for us, but I really, really wanted Jimmy to go to a local daycare because I felt (and still feel) that the socialisation is really important. I also really, really wanted to have my Dad look after Jimmy because they would have a blast together, just like the other children being looked after by their grandparents.

I did look into a few other places, places that we could take Jimmy if we bought a bike trailer, but one was not actually a daycare, and the other one doesn't take children under 2.5 years.

Sigh...

The situation out of our control, we waited and hoped. My parents started devising contingency plans for my Dad's visit.

Then, one day, while Jimmy and I were at the library with some friends, I received an unexpected phone call that started like this:

"Hello, this is XXX from XXX, can I speak to James?"

"Ahhh... He's two. He's not very good on the phone and he's got his mouth full."

"Can I speak to his mother?"

"Speaking."

"We have an opening for James." 

In my disbelief at what had actually transpired in the conversation I hoped I had correctly remembered the time for our appointment. I could not believe our luck - this was the only place we had Jimmy on a waiting list. 

The only one.

If it was a physical thing, I would have grabbed it and not known if I should hold it tightly so that it couldn't slip away or hold it gently so as not to damage our chances of keeping the spot.

I handed over the registration cheque the day after our first visit as actual clients. Even though I was a little unsure that I would actually receive my work permit, but I also wanted to make sure that Jimmy would be looked after and cared for before I could commit to working.

I still can't believe our luck.

This particular daycare might be within easy walking distance of our apartment, and, although it is apparently one of the more expensive daycares in town, we don't need a car or bus to get Jimmy there. This makes the cost worth it.

Jimmy is yet to spend a full day there, but he seems comfortable there: he wants to play in the playground; he's walked off with the director while I was filling in some paperwork, they left the room, walked into another room, and were gone for about 5 minutes; last week, while dropping off the paperwork (egads! this is happening), Jimmy spent 20 minutes in his 'classroom' while I was in the director's office and he didn't seem to mind that I had been away. I think he'll have a great time there, at least most of the time.

Jimmy will start there next week and then we'll know if the most important requirement for selecting a daycare is met: it must be a good fit for Jimmy. I'm not entirely sure what we'll do if he doesn't like it there. Michael and I are a little freaked out at the idea of a non-family member looking after Jimmy, but the daycare staff are professionals, trained in childcare, first aid and CPR.

Fingers crossed that Jimmy likes being there full-time. With everything else falling into place for my return to the workforce, a happy Jimmy in daycare is now the most important thing to ensure. Fingers crossed. Now, to get things organised for Monday... Ep!

Over the weekend we...

Were joined a group of friends and went for an early morning walk around Konza Prairie Biological Station. Now, when I say "early", we started walking around 7:30am, and when I say "we", I mean the five or so of us who arrived a little later than the others, who were about 30 minutes ahead of us.

Why so early? Well, it's summer here and the days can be very hot, so the idea was to get a walk in before the day became too hot. And thanks to the cloud cover (and rain) the morning stayed a nice warm temperature. Yay!

It's been a while since Michael, Jimmy, and I had been in the area - and even then we didn't do any walks - so we were enjoying every little thing, including this tiny toad that was the same colour as the path.

I'm so happy Konza Prairie Biological Station exists, because I think it's very important to develop a really sound understanding of an area's ecosystems and ecology, and that is exactly what the Biological Station has been working out.

There are lots of photos to come, just press read more...

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a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2015

Jimmy: Daddy, make you burrito!

And by that, Jimmy is asking to be rolled up into in his towel, or a foam sleeping mat, or his drawing mat - as pictured. It's freaking hilarious and adorable. He knows how to roll out of the burrito, so he's never really trapped, but he loves it.

Well, he loves it when Daddy and Mummy are paying him attention, like when Daddy took these photos, but he did fall over the other night, while in burritoed in his towel, and he couldn't break his fall. Poor little mite hit his head on a chair - he asked to be burritoed again, almost as soon as he had recovered. That's our boy! (Our boy still has problems with pronouns, but we're working on that.)