‘Beks won’t understand this reference, she’s too young’

Or

‘You are doing this project all by yourself?’

I feel like saying, ‘Yes, and those crazy folks at the DMV let me drive without parental supervision too!’

I keep my mouth shut, work hard, and let them re-evaluate their opinions based on my performance.

Today, someone fairly high up made a comment about ‘kids born in the 90’s like Beks’ and I thought I’d cough up a lung.

I’m all about looking young. I’ve thought about Botox as ‘preventative maintenance’ for crows feet. But now I’m worried I won’t get taken seriously without a few wrinkles.

I know. Complaining about not having enough wrinkles seems silly, but it gets old having to prove myself over and over again.

But…

I’ve learned to work harder than I should have to work and maybe that has made me a better employee. Maybe prejudices have pushed me to push myself to prove folks wrong.

Guess I’ll skip the Botox for now… but if I’m feeling lazy, I guess I could always spend more time in the sun and damage my skin.

My favorite day of 2011? Nope, not the day I got to write a nice check to my credit card. Nope, not the day I discovered we were less than three months from pay off.

It was the day we met this little guy.

Oddly enough, paying down debt helped me enjoy that day all the more. We had prepared ourselves financially and I didn’t have to worry about scary hospital bills or returning to work before I was ready. I enjoyed every single moment – even the painful ones – because I didn’t have Visa or Master Card sitting in the visitor’s chair beside me.

Some of the folks in my life had kids this year. They talk about not wanting more – or waiting years to have another because babies are hard. I wonder if everyone received a memo I missed because…

I want 10 more.

I’m exhausted. I’m sick. At times, I’m overwhelmed…

But there is nowhere and no one else I’d rather be.

I woke up this morning at 4:30 am and snuck a peek at my sleeping son before hopping in the shower for work. His beautiful face was peacefully relaxed, his pudgy cheeks soft and warm.

I have been so very blessed in 2011. Forget having a favorite day. This has been my favorite year.

Wishing you and your family a sweet 2012.

Baby boy is 2 1/2 months old now and so darn adorable.

We went to his 8 week check-up and my husband, all 5′ 10″ of him if he stands straight and eats his Wheaties, swore ‘his boy’ would be in the 75th percentile in height and the 50th percentile in weight (50th percentile is the size of an average child).

Baby boy is in the 30th percentile for height…

and the 65th percentile for weight.

So I thought this photo of him was fitting.

Overall, I can’t express how much I enjoy being a mom. Every moment is special – even the ones involving projectile poop. It’s so much better than I ever expected.

This week is the last week with him though. I’m heading back to work next week… and I’ve been crying since Tuesday.

Sigh.

We’ve been couch surfing for a while now. We both have appointments with our doctors so I’m hoping things will be better next week.

March 3rd:

Sonogram pics could not be any clearer – it’s a boy. Since discovering this information, I find I am far less gentle with my food choices. When I thought it was a girl, I ate fruits and veggies. Baby boy now gets fruits and veggies… and spicy jalapeño burgers. It’s a boy. He can take it like a man.

March 4th:

I inform baby boy that waking hours are between 6:00 a.m. and 9:00 p.m., NOT 9:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. Baby spends the next 24 hours kicking incessantly proving his complete control of the situation.

March 7th:

My husband said I’m the least emotional pregnant person he’s ever met… after I tackled him to the floor, choked him until he couldn’t breathe, and demanded he say it.

March 10th:

I thought by my having a baby, mom would finally stop asking me to have one – and she did.

Now she just asks when I’m planning to have another.

March 15th:

Thought about writing a press release:

Dear mothers (and you know which ones you are): You are not in a competition for the gold metal in the world’s most difficult pregnancy. I’m sorry your pregnancy/delivery/husband was awful. Mine, thus far, has been pretty awesome and I’d like to stay in my dream world that the rest will be the same. Don’t feel the need to share the same stories over… and over… and over again. I didn’t want to hear it the first time.

March 19th:

The week before every doctor’s appointment, I bump up my usual workout routine by walking a little further or exercising a little longer each day. Every time I see the nurse with her clipboard standing near the scale, I feel like I’m weighing in for The Biggest Loser… in reverse.

March 24th:

Concerned that, at nearly 6 months, I still don’t need maternity clothes. Is this baby even growing?

March 25th:

Suddenly need maternity clothes. Belly popped like a turkey timer.

November 10th:

There was an extra pink line on a pregnancy test this morning.

I woke up my husband who said, ‘I don’t think that’s a positive’ and goes back to sleep.

November 14th:

Tried again. Definitely positive.

Took a photo with my cell phone and texted it to my husband saying, ‘HA! I told you so!’

Not exactly the romantic moment I anticipated.

November 25th:

Today is the first day morning sickness hit… and when I say ‘hit’, I mean ‘knocked me off my feet, can’t even think of food anytime this century’. Leave it to my kid to announce itself on Thanksgiving.

My husband, who heard that lack of morning sickness could mean a miscarriage in the future, said, ‘I’m so glad you’re sick.’

I didn’t hit him… but that was only because I lying on the floor with a cold towel across my forehead and couldn’t reach.

December 7th:

At 2:00 a.m., I have an argument with the baby. I demand not to be sick between the hours of 8:00 p.m. and 8:00 a.m.

The baby thinks that’s hilarious.

I wake up my husband. If I’m miserable, he’s going to be miserable.

December 20th:

Dropped off a pair of pants to be shortened at the alterations place. The cashier told me they would be ready next week. ‘But they won’t FIT next week!’ I whined. She looked at me confused. ‘Uh. Christmas weight.’ I muttered, apologized, and walked out.

December 24th:

Tell my husband’s family about the baby. There is a solid 3 minutes of shocked silence.

December 25th:

Tell my family about the baby. No one believes me.

I’m starting to see a theme here.

My mother asks how Chris reacted when he found out. I made up a story about how we both cried for joy and embraced. Heaven forbid she finds out it was via text in an ‘I told you so’ message.

January 6th:

Still in salary negotiations for the new position at work. I don’t want to come to the table with a ‘handicap’ so I don’t mention the whole ‘baby’ thing. At three months, I’m not showing at all. I’m crossing my fingers that my ab muscles will hold tight at least 3 more weeks…maybe 5.

Feb. 1st:

The promotion is in the bag so I can finally share the news!!

That was before November 10th.

What changed on November 10th?

We found out about my July 2011 hospital stay…

To have our first baby.

I’m so sorry not to have told you earlier. I wanted to wait until the promotion/raise was settled. The very last thing I wanted to have hanging over my head at the negotiating table was my impending short term disability. Then after the promotion, I didn’t want to say, ‘Hey, thanks for the promotion. Can we talk about temps now? Cause I’m preggo.’

So how will this change things for our debt? We decided to pay regular payments in December and January but after that, we’re pushing the pause button on our debt reduction and stashing cash.

After the baby is born, we are hoping to have enough left over to pay one big payment and kill our remaining debt.

How will the blog change? The most important part, I’ll still work to reduce spending, save money, and smile while doing it. I’ll have a counter that has the amount in our savings. Our debt will stay fairly stagnant but our savings will grow leaps and bounds.

I hope you’ll stay to read the journey. The next five or so months will be an interesting ride.

I am sooooooo very excited.

If there is one thing you learn – and learn fast – about riding public transit, it’s how to identify the ‘creepers’. I know in 5 seconds flat who will give me grief.

This morning, I noticed a ‘Grade A Creeper’. ‘Grade A Creepers’ are the people you are willing to step back off the bus or train to avoid. He looked disoriented, disheveled, and up to no good. I nearly stepped back out, but I was in a rush to get to work and decided to take my chances.

Bad idea.

As soon as we started moving, he stood to face us. There were four of us on board… all young women. A disgusting smile spread across his face as he slowly started walking toward us. He was, well, I’m not sure how to put this. He was, ‘pitching a tent’ in his pants.

He walked up to two of the women, blocked them in, and started groaning and moaning at them. His ‘tent’ only grew.

In a panic, I hurriedly dialed the emergency number for the train (I keep them on speed dial). Just so you know, in emergency situations, I am not the best person to help.

‘What direction are you headed?’

‘Northeasterly? Oh wait. No, Southwest?’

‘What is the man wearing?’

‘Purple? No. Green. Wait. Blue.’

Despite my poor directions, I apparently gave enough information for them to identify the guy and force him off the train to an awaiting group of officers. Maybe it was because he was the only guy on the train. Whatever.

I went up to the women, made sure they were OK, and gave them the security number in case they should ever need it.

That was it.

I didn’t singlehandedly wrestle him to the floor and punch him. I didn’t shout at him. In fact, I really think I could have done more. I was simply too terrified.

Well…

Turns out, one of those folks onboard sent an e-mail to a clerk in HR and titled it ‘EMPLOYEE DESERVES TO BE COMMENDED’ (my company ID badge was pinned at my waist). The person identified what I was wearing, what I did, and what I said. It was an incredibly kind e-mail. The HR clerk identified me and forwarded the e-mail to the head of HR. The head of HR forwarded the e-mail to me, the CEO, the CFO, the head of legal counsel, and to my direct boss.

The CEO, who I’ve spoken with once in my whole career, personally came down to thank me for helping others. My boss and the head of HR also came to congratulate me.

I was stunned. I kept trying to say, ‘I didn’t DO anything!’ but they didn’t seem to listen.

So, I can keep fighting, keep saying how much I didn’t do, OR, I can smile, say thank you, hope they remember this when promotions are announced, and get back to work.

I choose option B.

What a weird, weird, weird day.

He was wrong. I didn’t get pneumonia.

It’s a nasty sinus infection. So there.

And if you’ve ever had one, you know that between pneumonia and a sinus infection, you’d rather have pneumonia when flying.

I’ve never had one before and wasn’t quick to pick up the signs. It wasn’t until my doctor was hitting tender skin around my nose that I realized I had a big problem.

I can’t bend forward, can’t cough, can’t sneeze, can’t sniffle, and can’t talk without tremendous pain – other than that, I’m totally fine.

My doctor said, ‘I wouldn’t advise flying, especially not a 12 hour flight. Not that you’re going to listen – but I’m just saying it to make me feel better.’

She gave me four prescriptions and I was on my way.

I can recover from a sinus infection in 24 hours. I can recover from a sinus infection in 24 hours. I can recover from a sinus infection in 24 hours.

Shoot.

I was supposed to receive an award today from the CEO and give a short speech.

And no. I’m not joking.

Instead, I’m sitting on my sofa flipping between Jerry Springer reruns and the Home Shopping Network.

Now, I’m not only horribly sick, I’m in a rotten mood.

My husband drove straight to school from work citing ‘library needs’ as an excuse but based on the fact that I revert to throwing tantrums like a three year old after every cough, I’m thinking he had other – totally understandable – reasons to skip a stop at home.

Not that I mind. He has taken to dousing me with Lysol Disinfectant every time he walks by and as much as I love him, I like breathing just a little more.

Ugh. Hopefully I feel better tomorrow. I’ve got a lot to do before we leave next week – plus, given enough time and Jack Daniels… I may start buying unnecessary amounts eye cream from HSN.

How do I know?

Because I’m home sick today.

I work out. I eat right. Yet somehow, I get smacked with a cold every time someone sneezes.

My husband suggested I take a sip of vodka every 20 minutes to cure my sore throat but so far, the only effect is an inability to type without 15 errors in each sentence.

So. What’s your best common cold cure?

As much as I love jury duty, I rarely get the chance to go. The courthouse hasn’t requested my service for three very long years. I’m like the annoying kid in class who is always raising her hand but never gets called on.

Four weeks ago, I opened my mailbox and… rays of sunshine shone from heaven and the angels sang the halleluiah chorus as I opened the cream colored summons.

Last night I called the juror hotline for my reporting time and…

My services were not needed.

What’s next? Why don’t they just off Santa and the Easter Bunny while they’re at it!

I’m ‘on call’ for the next 5 business days. Since it’s a holiday weekend, I can’t imagine the courthouse will be a hoppin’ place.

Darn.

Three years totally wasted.

My promotion: I haven’t heard a peep from management and they haven’t hired anyone.

My husband’s raise: His office communicates as well as mine. No word. I was hoping we’d hear something this week but… I guess not.

The debt surprise: I’ve been working nights and weekends doing side work. I recently deposited the paychecks and, I don’t want to ruin the surprise but, the July debt update should be a good one.

If there is anything I missed, let me know!

I’m a little on the terrified side of water so when I held up my oar waiting for the signal to start, it shook from my trembling arms. Shaking oars aren’t exactly a great intimidation tactic.

Remarkably, we won the first race by nearly a full boat length… then sadly lost the next two.

Here we are winning…

Sunday, I participated in a 5K running event put on by a close friend. Since I walk or run 3-5 miles a few times each week, I thought a 5K run after the Outrigger race would be easy. It never crossed my mind to ask if the event was going to take place on the beach in the sand.

And at the finish line...

I’m not sure if my body will ever forgive me.

By Sunday evening, I was exhausted but happy to have finished both races. It was a stretch but as I relaxed on the couch, I smiled because I finished something I didn’t think I could do and I wondered…

Is this a preview of what it will feel like to be debt free?

Running has been a reliable distraction from my finances but now, it seems like one more thing to add to my list of failures.

Yesterday was the first day I started to feel better after coming down with strep… until the itching began. Turns out, I ate something I was allergic to and broke out in a rash across my arms, chest, back, stomach, and face. Every time I had a moment to myself, I ran to my desk to itch my arms and neck like crazy until someone caught me. I would be annoyed but my body is such a huge comedy of errors, I can’t help but laugh.

I came home and all I wanted to do was take a bath, pop a couple Benadryl, and go to bed, but yesterday marked the second solid week I hadn’t laced my running shoes.

So I ran.

As I ran, the itching stopped, and for the first time in a long time… I felt good.

Sometimes, when you need it most, things go right.

The Bartering/Jack Hammering post:

The concrete pad was 2’ x 2’ and had three 1 ½” diameter black metal pipes shaped in a triangle poking out. We checked with the city and they had no information on what it could be. After two hours of jack hammering, all we found was more concrete and more piping. A few feet down, the concrete narrowed to an 8” sloppy oval with the pipes still sticking out in a triangle shape. We cut off the tops of the pipes and buried the darn thing again. At least it’s nowhere near the surface and we didn’t find a septic tank, a bomb shelter, or Jimmy Hoffa.

The Wireless Router post:

My brother/roommate grew tired of my “endless” 8 hour search for the best deal and drove straight to Best Buy to purchase a new one. He’s addicted to online gaming for the Xbox system and has the patience of a 5 year old. He got the exact one he wanted – and didn’t ask me for a dime.

The Carpooling Dilemma post:

After the ‘Well, it would be nice if you offered to drive me once in a while’ comment from my co-worker, he simply stopped dropping by the transit stop. He made a few snarky comments like ‘How was the smelly bus this morning?’, which I ignored, and then he gave up completely. He hasn’t made a comment in a few weeks. I enjoy my free public transit and get some peace and quiet now.

I think that covered all the open ended questions. If you think of more, let me know!

The first quake (a 7.2 out of Mexicali) started yesterday afternoon as I sat in my parent’s kitchen. What they don’t tell you about earthquakes is that in quiet open areas, you can hear them coming. My parents live on 8 acres surrounded by national forest. For a second or two, the earth sounds like an angry groaning ship and then gives way to deep rumbles. The cabinet doors shutter like knocking knees, the glass dishes inside shivering. My parents, husband, and I stared at the hanging lamp above my head swinging like a pendulum. Normally, and stupidly, we never run outside to safety. Most quakes last 5 seconds or less and it’s not worth the panic but as this one continued to roll under us like an ocean tide and the structure of my parent’s home started to pop loudly, we decided to wait it out on the front lawn. We felt the earth move on and off the rest of Easter Sunday.

This morning at 4:13, as I lie awake with the annoying pain of strep throat, my bed started to shake. I turned to kick my husband but quickly caught myself as I glanced at the ceiling fan above our bed and watched the swinging pull chains create dancing shadows across our wall. A 5.2 earthquake shook on the US side of the border. Our home creaked and shimmied as it adjusted to the new ground beneath it.

Ahh. Home sweet southern California home?

I don’t wash my hair very often. I wash my hair no more than twice per week… and sometimes, not even that much.

My naturally curly hair can’t handle it – that and I’d rather spend the extra hour it takes to dry my locks doing ‘productive’ things like sleeping.

But I’ve always felt lonely in my non-washing world. It’s a secretive place. No one particularly likes to hear on a Friday morning that I haven’t washed my hair since Thursday… of last week. I’d start immersing my hair in fragrant shampoo if people seemed at all put off but I have just the opposite reaction – people compliment my hair on a regular basis.

Apparently, there is a growing trend called the ‘No-poo movement’. Nope, didn’t make that up. Someone really thought ‘poo’ and ‘movement’ was a good combo. The movement is fueled by eco-conscious folks as a way to help the environment by reducing chemical usage and plastic waste but…

All I can think is, ‘woo hoo! Another way to save a buck.’ And I’m sure all you are thinking is, ‘Wow, her penny pinching ways have taken her off the deep end.’

But, give it some thought or give it a try. Let me know how it turns out!

Learn more about the ‘No Poo Movement’ at:
NPR
MSNBC
Glamour

Oh wait. That’s probably just my spring season fun.

I hate the first signs of warm weather. Cooped up homeowners and their ‘nice’ dogs hang out on front porches across my neighborhood – dogs who have pent up frustration and aggravation from being chained or penned for the last 4 months.

For runners, cyclists, and pleasure walkers, this is the most dangerous time of year. Last year at this time, a pit bull jumped me from the side and knocked me into the street while his owner yelled, ‘Don’t worry, he’s nice!’

And I promise, no matter what the actions of the dog, the owner will always say how ‘nice’ their dog is. Yes, your dog is nice…now will you kindly remove his or her teeth from my arm?

While I can appreciate that these dogs motivate me to run faster and set new personal distance records, I don’t particularly like the ‘running for my life’ aspect.

I know my readers would never allow their animals to pounce on poor unsuspecting exercisers, but if you happen to know someone who does, help me out and… yell at them.

What does this have to do with finance? According to the City of San Diego (and I’m sure your neighborhood too), pet owners are obligated to provide public protection from their dogs:
‘Each year thousands of area residents are bitten or attacked by dogs. Many bite victims are substantially injured and children sustain the majority of injuries. As a result of these incidents, owners are often subject to administrative action and may also incur criminal responsibility and/or civil liability’

Three words…

Lawyers are expensive.

Leash those dogs folks – even the ‘nice’ ones.

I’m short and my leg to torso proportion closely resembles a crossbred Welsh corgi and a dachshund. I buy petite short pants… and have them hemmed.

Sure, I could ‘accept my God given shape’, ‘celebrate my uniqueness’, and believe all the other feel good sayings my mother told me OR… I could wear really, really, really tall shoes and live in denial.

Denial is the name of my game.

I never thought tall shoes would save me money until my co-workers started to ask me to accompany them to lunch. With the fantastic food offerings of downtown San Diego, it’s impossible to pass up… unless you can’t walk. It’s easy to say no when walking more than three steps causes me to beg God to take me from this earth and save me from pain.

So, I kick off my shoes, put on my slippers, and toast a sandwich.

Before you insult that lady at work with the ridiculous shoes, remember… she may be saving money… or maybe she’s self-conscious about her tiny legs… or maybe it’s both.

There’s nothing quite like being told your lungs are ‘out of shape’.

I quietly whispered, ‘Can I still do a sprint Triathlon in March?’ I whispered because I thought maybe she wouldn’t hear me clearly and nod yes without thinking.

‘WHAT?!? Absolutely not. Maybe by the end of summer if you’re lucky. If you push too hard too fast, you’ll do serious damage.’

I’m heartbroken.

Doing a triathlon, specifically this triathlon in an area I love, was a way to prove to myself that I am capable of stretching, changing, and growing. It’s been a nice distraction from my debt reduction path and for now, it’s gone.

It’s time to take a moment and sit still.

I’ve never been good at that.

Since the lawsuit is still within the statute of limitations, I cannot say exactly what happened but I can say this…

It’s over – for now.

I received a call this afternoon from my attorney. The lawsuit against us has been dropped. Unfortunately, the statute of limitations won’t expire until March but for now, I’m very pleased.

Now if I can just survive the next 12 weeks!

I’ve been coughing… for 41 days.

I wanted to see a doctor about 3 weeks ago but our company was undergoing a major healthcare change and we were covered but didn’t have valid medical insurance cards. We were told to see a doctor if necessary and we would ‘likely’ be reimbursed for our expenses….Yeah. I didn’t fall for that either.

I decided to wait it out until my health insurance card arrived. Maybe this was a poor decision.

Especially since, today, my doctor told me I have pneumonia.

Oh but wait. There’s more.

My pneumonia initiated asthma.

The funny part about this is – I’m relieved. I’ve been feeling ridiculously overdramatic for the last few weeks as I cried because I couldn’t breathe and couldn’t stop coughing. My tears and misery have been vindicated!!

I’m off to take an insane amount of pharmaceuticals and sleep the week away.

Monday, I was tossed violently from the pool.

I was sitting at my desk typing a report when a co-worker came up and admired the photo of my family – all 26 of us (my parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews). The photo looked normal to me. It was all the people I love, a sea of heads, each of us connected to each other. She counted each family member and carefully looked at each smiling face. She continued to stare for a long time and finally said to me, ‘You have no idea how lucky you are.’ (She lost her mother when she was young and her father passed on over the summer).

She walked away, visibly saddened at reminder of her loss.

I picked up the picture, looked at my family… and felt like the most ungrateful person in the world. How dare we complain about our finances and lack of gifts for each other when we are beyond blessed with something far more valuable than money?

I have an unbreakable bond 25 people who love me, who never judge me, who will laugh at me (um, I mean WITH me), and will fight any battle to protect me. I am more confident, more centered, and happier because of their presence in my life.

We were right in saying we hadn’t had a ‘good’ Christmas in years. We’ve had an amazing, great, unbelievable, wonderful, blessed Christmas every year.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

The truth is…

I didn’t.

I have two simple choices when it comes to reducing my debt. I can sprint or I can marathon.

I am currently sprinting. I’m pushing, giving it my all, and taking no breaks. Unemployment is forcing me to take a hard look at every dollar. There is no dinner with friends, no movies at theaters, no new clothes, no dental insurance, no doctor’s appointments, nothing. There is no waste.

Sure I could even go further. I could eat bread and water and be debt free faster. I could sell my car and bike to my bus stop in the dark and be debt free faster. I could stop wearing make-up, shower once weekly, and leave my electricity off and be debt free faster.

But my weariness would grow at the same sprinting pace and I would burn out before my balances ever read zero.

I can’t sprint forever and once my husband is employed again, I plan on slowing my pace to what is was before his layoff. Every once in a while, I think it’s OK to buy a $6 burger during happy hour at a nice restaurant. Once every few months, I like to buy my husband a bag of his favorite coffee.

This is my marathon. Sure, some folks will be faster and others will be slower but I’m running this debt marathon to finish – not to burn out before I see the finish line.

Are you sprinting or marathoning?

I get drowsy at work and drink energy drinks to stay coherent – though I use the word ‘coherent’ loosely. It’s normal to randomly start singing ‘Jimmy Crack Corn’ at work right?

I counteract this sleep loss with sleeping pills. Makes sense right? OR, I could ‘theoretically’ stay awake after taking the twice the recommended dose of sleeping pills and then find myself suffering from the world’s worst sleep hangover known to man.

This is usually the start to a vicious cycle where I don’t sleep due to stress and then stress about not sleeping which causes me to not sleep at all. My doctor finds this cycle amusing – but maybe it’s because last time I sang ‘Oops I did it again’ in the waiting room and played hopscotch in the parking lot with tongue depressors – and tells me I need to reduce my stress levels.

Thanks Captain Obvious.

And then, unfortunately for you, I write posts that make sense to me… but uh… probably not to you.

Today I exercised, avoided caffeine, alcohol, and sugar, and tried to think of butterflies and rainbows but alas… it’s 2 AM and I’m here… awake.

So here’s the question of the day what are your secrets to sleep?

Thursday I went running and felt a painful pop in my left knee. I fell, sat on the concrete for a bit, and then wished I hadn’t worked so hard to teach my dogs not to pull on their leashes. I was hoping to sprawl out on the ground and have them pull my limp body home like sled dogs. Who knew well behaved dogs could be the bane of my existence?

I was feeling generous – so I gave myself 36 hours to recover.

Saturday morning, the weather was far too amazing to stay inside. I grabbed the dogs and took them to the dog park. Our park has big, beautiful trees that shade a running path. Apparently I overcompensated for my faulty knee… and pulled a groin muscle on my right side.

As if it’s not bad enough that my dogs can’t double as a Siberian sled team, both injuries happened about 3 miles from home. Why? So I could spend an hour each time dragging myself home while learning a life lesson about pushing too hard.

Focus can be great. But too much of it can be dangerous.

For all you type A personalities out there (*waving my arm*)… take a break.

When I get moderately stressed, the skin around my ears bleeds from an odd rubbing habit I’ve had since I was a kid.

When I get really stressed, my body goes into a self-induced coma.

This job loss has me REALLY stressed.

It’s not a big deal, I just don’t think I should operate any heavy equipment or walk in high heels. In fact, it’s kinda nice. If I ever require surgery, just tell me I’ve got to figure out a way to pay cash for the doctors and I’ll pass right out. I could save a fortune on an anesthesiologist.

My husband is dealing with it exactly as I expected – with a huge smile on his face. I married the eternal optimist. Some people are blessed with the ability to see only the positive in situations, and he’s one of those people. He’s been active in his job search and has been an all around very pleasant person.

It’s annoying as hell.

But at least I get to sleep through it.

Kidding!

It was always about who dated first, who dated most, who was the skinniest, who was the most tan, who traveled the most, who could annoy mom and pop the fastest…and on and on.

I thought that since ten years has passed since we lived together, we perhaps…

actually grew up.

Hah.

As we sat at my brother’s wedding, my sister said, ‘How’s your debt snowball? I think I might be done in late fall of 2010. I’m winning!’

To which I immediately responded, ‘You are soooo immature. This isn’t a race. We aren’t 12 anymore.’

Needless to say, I secretly went home, looked for anything and everything to sell and re-adjusted my budget in an attempt to somehow pull a payoff date of EARLY fall.

Just a heads up – when it comes to relationships between sisters, you never grow up.

He’s been dealing with a constant barrage of advice from his divorced co-workers – all telling him he’s making a mistake getting married. Not because he’s marrying the wrong girl, but because they think marriage in general is a mistake.

To my brother,

I remember how nervous I was on my wedding day. I wasn’t sure if my marriage would work. I was scared to fail at something so big.

Five years later, I can tell you this…

It’s worth it.

The laughter, the fun, the tears, the fights…

It’s all worth it.

Chris sent me a text today that said, ‘After almost 5 years of marriage, I love you more today than I did when we first started this adventure.’ I picked a great guy and I’ve been fortunate to have an amazing five years. I am so so very blessed with marriage.

You picked a great girl. You’re in for a great adventure.

Happy Wedding Day.

I’m still sick.

My doctor says she can squeeze me in on Monday.

If I’m still sick by Monday, I’ll shoot myself and save her the trouble of an insurance claim (totally kidding folks, it’s the fever talking).

I was able to drag myself into work today. I completely forgot about the pre-scheduled site visit between me and oh… 25 or so other people.

Hmm. Perhaps showering would have been a good idea.

I scrambled to meet the project manager who took a look at my shoes and said, ‘Thank God! A woman with sense. Thanks for wearing closed toed shoes. Whenever we go on job walks, all the women wear open toed shoes and it’s very dangerous.’

I did not see the necessity in mentioning that my sick nauseated 5 in the morning haze prevented me from finding my cute pink strappy sandals… or even a hair brush for that matter.

Seven hours of 100 degree heat and ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Maybe’, and ‘That’s only legal in Thailand’ later, I was allowed to return home.

Sorry no financial updates. My brain is a blob and I plan on spending the next 48 hours under my big fluffy comforter.

Have a good weekend.

One of the guys who attended the bachelor party in Mexico got the entire bachelor party sick. Once home, they quickly spread the flu to their spouses… myself included.

Currently, I’m sitting with a napkin up my nose (I ran out of tissue about 3 hours ago) and I haven’t showered. Fortunately, my husband pretends not to notice.

Sorry but I’m going back to bed. I thought you weren’t supposed to get sick in the summer!!

Thursday’s post made me realize how silly it was that I didn’t know how, and in these boring months between payoffs, I find myself needing a distraction.

I learned a few things:

1. Bikini tops, though amusing to community pool staff, are not conducive to learning how to swim.
2. It takes an aquaphobic person 17 minutes to be coerced into a 3 ½ foot lap pool.
3. My husband is a very patient man.
4. Swimming, biking, and running on the same day with untrained muscles will cause pain that rivals injuries sustained in a roll over car accident.

As I walk with a limp today, I can’t help but compare this pain to the pain I felt when starting my journey toward a debt free future. It’s painful now and it will continue to be painful in the future. It will never be easy. If it were easy, everyone would be debt free and physically fit.

Pain is a sign of growing, learning, and taking responsibility for the future.

What is my worst financial pain? Not being able to travel. I don’t miss my credit card balance, but I miss the yearly trips that came with it.

What is your worst financial pain? What do you miss the most?

I don’t know how to swim.

I won’t drown, I’m simply limited to a doggie paddle and as it turns out, that won’t get me very far.

Even worse, I SHOULD know how to swim. My father set a state record in competitive swimming. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I married a competitive swimmer who also played water polo.

Unfortunately, I realized that three of the six weeks before the triathlon are blacked out for wedding events and will severely cut down on my preparedness – and I have yet to stick a toe in water. I turned my friend down but now I’m looking at the next one in March and… I think I can do it.

My first summer out of college, I flew to visit my sister living in Ireland. I had no money and no job, but this was my first opportunity to see my sister who I hadn’t seen in a few years.

We drank pints of Guinness in dodgy bars, ate Irish/Chinese food, explored the entire island, and somehow crashed her car into a fence. We sat on the edge of the Cliffs of Moher while David Gray sang ‘This Years Love’ from our cheap speakers. I had just started dating someone new (I later married that same fabulous man) and couldn’t imagine a world happier than mine at that moment. I had the most memorable trip of my life… and my MasterCard footed the $1,500 bill.

I know there are many more memorable trips in my future (trips I will save up CASH to pay for) but I don’t regret that ‘foolish’ spending. As I’m paying down my credit card, I try to remember that at least part of that payment is going toward one of the best times in my life. It takes a little bit of the angry bite out of those payments.

Is there something you don’t regret pulling out your Visa buy?

…
So who’s to worry
If our hearts get torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Don’t you know this life goes on
And won’t you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain’t this life so sweet
…

My Top 5 Reasons Why Living Within Your Means (Especially While Broke) is Totally and Completely Awesome

#1) For once in my life, I’m not all that concerned about a purse snatching. The days of credit cards in my wallet are long gone. If a thief can profit off my purse containing only a Costco card, a snotty tissue, and a pair of tweezers… more power to him.

#2) My husband and I get to try ‘experimental’ cuisine!

The old me used to take grocery lists to the store with silly items like: Expensive pre-cooked chicken, organic herbs, fine chocolate, $3 avocados…

Now my list reads: Anything on sale.

If anyone knows a good recipe for pigs intestine, Safeway brand peanut butter, and Ragu pasta sauce, please pass it my way.

#3) When solicitors come to my door peddling everything from magazine subscriptions to pest control, I can say, ‘We can’t afford it at this time’ and for the first time, it isn’t a bold faced lie.

#4) I finally have a sense of value. I value everything I have worked for….

And I think about how much I could get for it on EBay.

If my husband comes home tonight and all the furniture is gone…

I didn’t auction it off, we were robbed. Or at least, that’s my story.

#5) My husband and I are forming a tighter bond in our marriage. No, we aren’t ‘holding to each other during these trying times’ or whatever romantic notion you have, we simply cut back on our cable tv. Since neither of us are fans of the Public Broadcasting Telethon nor the 50,000th re-run of Everybody Loves Raymond, we are forced to…

Talk.

After 15 seconds of that garbage (wink), we warm up the Nintendo and shoot the crud out of each other in Contra.

Bonding I tell you, Bonding.

Hmm. Maybe this optimism thing isn’t so bad. What do you have to add? What makes you smile about living within your means?

Financially, the smart thing would have been to keep my family a one dog family but every time I came home and saw my remaining dog mope around the house, I knew I couldn’t leave things the way they were. When he stopped eating and whined constantly, I was reduced to tears on a daily basis.

I spent a week searching shelters but couldn’t seem to find a dog that fit our dynamic. I don’t believe in buying dogs for short term commitments and knew bringing home anything but a perfect fit would be a bad idea. I decided to stop at one more, knowing if I didn’t find the right dog, I’d simply give up.

Then I met Hutch.

I was still in the habit at crying at the sight of dogs and sat on the floor thinking I’d never find another I could love at much as my last. Hutch took one look at me, crawled into my lap, and promptly fell asleep.

Needless to say, he came home with me.

Financially, I made a mistake. A dog is a financial responsibility – even if he is replacing another. Physically and emotionally, I did what my heart (any my other dog) needed.

If you see a redhead jogging down the street with two wagging tailed dogs and a grin the size of Texas… that’s probably me.

The size four dress arrived for wedding number one and it fits perfectly… which of course means…

I’m in trouble. Sure, I can get the size two dress on, but it presents the very ‘minor’ problem of the inability to breathe.

So I have two options. Lose weight OR pay a small fortune to alter the dress for wedding number two. In light of my financial situation, I thought it best to lose some weight.

I have dieted exactly one time in my life and the diet lasted 4 hours before I broke down and ate a large order of carne asada fries. And it’s not that I haven’t needed to diet. I gained 20 pounds in college and kept the weight on for three years. But… self control isn’t my strong suit.

I’ve been using the Lose It! program I recommended in an earlier post and have been carefully monitoring my caloric intake. By dinner time, I’m left with a dismal 300 calories and my debate is usually a toss up between a green salad with goat cheese and a balsamic vinaigrette dressing or two glasses of wine. It’s not a tough guess as to which one regularly wins.

It’s been a week and all I can think about is food.

But I’m sticking with it…. at least for another four hours.

Great. I’m going to fail this review – I thought

‘When you first interviewed with us, I told the committee that I could see you had a bright future. I put my neck on the line for you…’ he said.

And…

‘And I’m reaping the rewards. Your performance has been unparalleled. Never, have I given a probationary score this high’ he said while smiling.

There are five Rebekah’s in this department. Obviously you’re confused.

‘I have never seen such a high level of organization…’

You call it ‘organization’, my doctor calls it a case study in obsessive compulsive disorder

‘…You are well liked by your peers and HR has only praise for you…’

You’d be amazed at the power of homemade cookies and good old fashioned gratitude to others

‘…and you are always willing to put in extra time to get projects done.’

You fired someone… IN FRONT OF ME… if that doesn’t put a fire under someone’s pants, nothing will

In an environment of so much insecurity, it was nice to get a pat on the back. I didn’t think he had noticed – and was pleasantly surprised to realize he had. This review doesn’t guarantee my job (no one is guaranteed a job) but I’m glad to hear I’m doing something right.

Whew!

When my brothers (John & Mike) and I were 13 and 15, one of my dad’s oh so responsible employees showed us how to build a potato gun – because everyone knows the combination of pipe, potatoes, a bottle of WD-40, and a flame tool are landmark in safety and you should share them with teenagers.

We spent our afternoons launching the potatoes into targets… *cough* the pool deck… *cough* the new trees… *cough* the house siding… (sorry ‘bout those dents dad)

On a particularly hot day, John filled the chamber up with a combination of Rave hairspray and WD-40. The fumes filled the air as he quickly spun the cap on and pulled out the matches. He touched the flame to the side and a loud BOOM exploded into our ears. Mike and I looked down to see John on his back, his shoes smoldering, and the lawn burst into flames.

He hadn’t spun the cap on tightly and instead of launching the potato, the force rocketed the cap and the flame onto John’s shoed feet.

Responsibly… Mike and I laughed hysterically at John.

We laughed so hard, we overlooked the fact that the lawn was still on fire. About 60 seconds of laughing at John’s smoldering blackened shoes went by before we suddenly became aware that the fire was growing. If mom saw the fire, she’d never let us shoot another potato again (though I’m not sure she ever truly ‘approved’ it in the first place).

Mike ran for the hose while John stomped out what he could.

Fortunately they got the fire out (hence the reason they are such good firefighters… they started young) but there was still a huge problem…

There was a black spot of charred lawn directly in front of the screen door that mom surely wouldn’t miss. We couldn’t think of a believable story for the burn spot and we certainly weren’t going to tell the truth sooooo…

We dug out the lawn, tossed it across the fence, threw on some fresh dirt, then went inside and told mom the dogs had dug a patch of the lawn.

As for John’s shoes? ‘Pssshhh. Mom, that’s a fashion statement. Don’t you know style?!?!’

My best summer vacation memories were never about where we stayed or what kind of expensive things my parents bought, they were always about the fun times with my family.

Sure, we aren’t going somewhere nice this year, but we’re going together – and that’s the best part.

I love my bike. I’m like a five year old with a new toy. I’d love to stick streamers in the handles and playing cards in the spokes but my husband said that wasn’t an ‘adult’ decision.

Whatever.

My husband just paid his tuition at college…

And I went for a 28 mile ride.

I’m not a competitive person. I don’t care about first place – which, I guess, is why I wasn’t that great at sports. But when it comes to cycling…

I’m suddenly Lance Armstrong in the Tour De France.

I find myself racing people who… um… aren’t racing me. I crank up AC/DC on my iPod and cycle as fast as my poor legs can go. My heart bounces around like an out of control ping pong ball just looking to get out and take a break from my ridiculousness.

You can bet that when I get home, finances are far from my mind…

But that’s usually because I’m icing muscles and bandaging various scraped body parts.

In short? A lot!

A few benefits of exercising (tip of the iceburg)?
Reduced blood pressure
Reduced feelings of depression and anxiety
Helps to control weight
Helps to build and maintain healthy joints, muscles, and bones
Reduced risk of diabetes

What do these have to do with finances?
Have you had to pay for doctors and medication recently?!? Ouch!! Also, exercise helps you sleep, puts you in a better mood, helps your self confidence, and gives you energy – all very important things in the work world where your paycheck comes from! Plus, people with a BMI of less than 22 get sick less often and miss less work.

I’ve been fortunate to have been physically active and healthy for most of my life. Running a marathon is just another way to push myself and stay active. Sure my sore legged walk makes Frankenstein look like a graceful ballerina but it’s important to encourage you to gain control in your finances AND in your health – they are closely connected.

Tomorrow is Saturday, take a walk with your dog, play with your kids, or ride your bike. Take a break from staring at that checkbook and balancing numbers to get some fresh air.

It’s good for you.

Some free sites to help you out?

www.Mapmyride.com
I use this site to calculate mileage and read elevation changes on my bike rides/runs.

www.Mypyramid.gov
This free site helps to guide you on better eating habits.

I’m warning you… these sites can be ADDICTIVE!!

What is your favorite FREE health related site?

10 years later…

I do not feel graceful, powerful, excited, or focused.

I ran for 45 minutes this morning and looked more like a stumbling 3 legged dog than a sophisticated runner. But then again, that’s how I felt when drafting our first budget. I’m always a little awkward at first.

Still running, still budgeting, still pushing.

Patient, wise, brilliant, loving… he’s an all around great guy.

He encouraged creativity and made me feel like I could do anything. Now that I’m striving to become debt free, he is one of my biggest supporters. We I get frustrated, he is the voice of reason. When I get stressed about life, he brings things into perspective. When I get confused about the finance world, he knows all the answers.

I think he secretly has Google software in his brain because no one should know THAT much.

Thanks for being such a great dad.

I love you.

I’ve been in perfect health for more than 6 months – not even a sore throat to annoy me. Now that the cold and flu season is over… I’ve come down with a nasty bug. Heaven forbid I get sick when everyone else does. Now I’m the freak show who’s sick in JUNE.

I got sick yesterday afternoon. I felt awful at work and before leaving, I told my boss, ‘Hey, I’m not feeling very well. I’m going to drink some tea and get to bed early. Have a good night.’

Everyone knows the cardinal rule of making two day weekends to three day weekends… fake sick on Thursday afternoon and call in sick on Friday. Er… so I’ve heard.

Terrified that my boss will think I’m lying, I’m forced to go to work this morning even though I feel like I’ve been hit by a giant rotating ferris wheel…multiple times. I’m not one of those people who look adorable when I’m sick. My eyes get red and puffy, my skin gets itchy, my nose turns pepto bismol pink, and I’m embarrassed to go out in public.

Fortunately, this should work well for me in this particular situation. I’m going to work… and I hope to be back home and in bed within an hour.

Friday, I wasn’t ‘feeling it’. Late nights paired with high stress had me pooped by Friday and I hit the snooze button far more than I should have.

I rolled out of bed, threw my nappy unwashed hair into a pony tail, and put on my uniform without ironing it. I caught the train to work and arrived my usual 45 minutes early – 30 of which I should have spent getting ready and ironing at least my shirt. I sluggishly walked into the elevator, hit the floor button, and leaned my sleepy head against the wall. Just as the doors started to close, a hand slipped through the doors and in walked the equivalent of the company CEO.

I’ve met the guy approximately 2 times in the 6 months I’ve worked there.

He gave me a slow once over – and it wasn’t because I looked smoking hot in my uniform. He looked at my crumpled pants, my against policy un-tucked shirt, and said a very crisp, ‘Well… good morning.’

I heard ‘No Scrubs’ by TLC blaring on my brain radio.

I’ve always been told to dress for the job you want and not for the job you have. I’m fairly certain I will be demoted to janitorial staff by tomorrow.

Never again folks. Never again will I dress like that.

What happened to the good ol’ days of Nintendo and Sega glassy eyed kids? Now they are dancing, singing, and playing instruments. It’s as if the Wii transformed our family into a modern day Brady Bunch band. Ugh.

I rented the Sonic vs. Mario Summer Olympics game from the library. I’m pretty sure I would have expelled less energy actually competing IN the Olympics. Real swimming isn’t nearly as difficult as Wii swimming. Trust me… I can’t use my arms today.

And with the invention of Rock Band, I can’t just sing Aerosmith, I have to sing Aerosmith AND play a guitar. My voice has joined my arms in the ‘not usable’ category.

I think these games were secretly invented by parents who would like to temporarily disable their children. You can’t talk back after losing your voice to Paramore – or maybe that’s just me.

I wish I could say my nieces and nephews suffered from the same painful muscle strain I have today but… I had so much fun playing that I didn’t exactly let them play. When they started crying about the unfairness of it all, I could only say, ‘Back off shorty! Aunti Beks has to finish the last rift of Salt N Pepa so she can win a new tour bus for the band.’

The best things in life are free.

I’ve been debt free before.

There was a moment, for about 3 days, in college when I had no debt. My car was paid off, my credit card had no balance, and I didn’t have a mortgage.

Then, I came close again after we closed on our house. We had been saving for a year and the money returned to us from escrow was used to pay off my husband’s credit line.

That credit card debt freedom lasted a few weeks before we decided to remodel our master bathroom and take a trip to Hawaii.

My finances are like a yo-yo diet. Sure I’d love to eat healthy all the time but rolled tacos with Mexican guacamole? I can’t resist.

Just like weight loss, a diet is silly. The only real option for permanent results is a lifestyle change. Staying thin requires eating less than or equal to what you need – staying financially healthy means spending less than you make. Sure it looks easy on paper, but only those who have suffered through it (and continue to suffer through it daily) know how hard the struggle can be.

This is the longest I’ve been on a financial diet – and I know I’ve got what it takes to keep the ‘weight’ off.

Yeah, the change is lame – but the results… those are what I’m grinning at each month when the credit card statement arrives.

One day… it will say…

$0

Which is harder for you: Losing weight? or losing debt?

Whenever someone on the show says something clever, an elevator in the background dings. Not a big deal… unless you work in a building with elevators. Now every time the elevator dings, I act like Pavlov’s Dog and wait for someone to say something clever.

I’m onto you Executive Producer Betsy Beers. Thanks to you, TV watching has caused a semi-normal person like me to live in a complete state of confusion for 10 floor dings up… and 10 floor dings down each day! But while you’re out creating chaos in the world, I was wondering if you’d take some precious time from your schedule and somehow work your Pavlovian magic on my finances. I’d like to be completely numb to the charms of the evil ones, ie… Target, Macy’s, and their best friend Nordstom.

Come on Betsy! A little help please!?

DING!

No, I am not going to reveal my housing costs. Asking a San Diegan to reveal her mortgage payment is like asking a New York housewife to reveal her age. The only thing likely to happen is a giant string of lies.

I’m also not going to reveal our charitable giving amounts. What we decide to give is a very personal decision and it’s not an amount I’m willing to change just to pay more on bills.

Savings: $50
Electricity/Gas: $105
Cell Phones: $100
Cable/Internet/Phone: $100
Grocery: $300
Gas: $260
Laundry: $10
Toiletries: $11
Clothing/House Repairs/Animal Care/Spending Money: $200
Water: $70
Trash: $18

All remaining money is used to pay our mortgage, our credit card, our student loans, and my husband’s truck.

So. Am I normal by the numbers? What does your budget look like?