As he continued to stare, I said, ‘Geez hon! Yeah, she’s hot. But just so you know, she could totally gain it all back!’

‘Huh?’ he said, staring at me with a confused expression.

‘HER!!’ I said, jamming my index finger on the hot blonde.

‘What? No. I was trying to figure out if there was a decimal in the Mel Gibson story regarding that 425 million dollar divorce case. 4.25? 42.5? I just can’t imagine not trying to work out a marriage when 425 MILLION was on the line!’ he said.

‘Oh’ I said humbly.

Great. It was bad enough when all I could focus on was finances, now I have a husband who can’t get past it either.

I didn’t realize how very much I rely on him until he wasn’t available. Sure there was the shopping trip, but it’s the day to day stuff that went unnoticed, like…

the fact he starts my car for me in the morning so it’s toasty warm by the time I leave for work. Trust me, I realized it as I ran out in the cold and had to de-ice my windshield.

or the fact that he packs my lunch and my nursing supplies. Sure, I pack it at night, but he puts them in my car when he starts it. I forgot them both this morning.

or the fact that he helps with the dishes after I make a big dinner. I woke up this morning and the ‘kitchen fairies’ hadn’t visited.

Snnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiifffffffffffffffffff….

*tear*

Yeah. Debt is a big part of my life. Bigger part?

That guy.

It didn’t help that Gary Allan serenaded me on the radio with ‘The One’ this morning. Just so happens that was what hubby and I danced to more than seven years ago on our wedding day.

Called hubby to tell him I loved him.

Debt is a big deal. Bigger deal? ‘That guy’ in your life. Don’t forget it.

It’s not that I don’t like what they do…

It’s that I LOVE everything and want to buy it all. My self-control in online shopping leaves a lot to be desired – especially after the arrival of our kidlet.

I thought I was safe. I don’t subscribe.

But my husband does.

Recently, he started forwarding e-mails about once a week for items we simply can’t live without. I find myself pulled in, willing to not eat for 3 days so we can buy the latest canvas print enlargement or child sized fuzzy hat.

Sigh.

I love him. He’s the most thoughtful, sweet person I know. But I finally had to beg him to stop being so darn thoughtful… and stop sending the e-mails… at least until February.

Sure, it’s not good for you, but it’s also expensive. That $4 spent on chips could be spent on chicken or veggies.

But…

I went grocery shopping hungry (MISTAKE) and as I was buying a box of wheat crackers, I heard a bag of Lays potato chips calling my name from across the aisle. I tried to stare them down, tell them how evil they were, but the bag said, ‘I’m extra salty and crunchy. Just the way you like it!’

I moved on. Shopped a few more aisles.

But that stupid bag of potato chips wouldn’t shut up.

Sooo… I bought them…with some creamy ranch dipping sauce.

Total cost of the chips and dip? $8. Geez!

I haven’t splurged and chips and dip for… um…

I can’t remember the last time.

So, I hid them behind the Costco sized bag of Quinoa in the pantry – because hubby hates Quinoa and won’t touch the bag. Sure, I’d like to say it was because I was embarrassed that I wasted $8 but let’s face it, it’s because I didn’t want to share.

It was a heavenly week. I’d sneak a few chips here and there while hubby was cleaning the garage or playing with the baby.

Sure, I felt guilty, but man oh man was it worth it.

Last night, hubby caught me. I expected him to chastise me for wasting grocery money or for hiding them. Instead, he dove into the bag with both hands and we polished off the whole thing.

Yeah.

I wasted 8 bucks.

But sometimes, that’s OK.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to do 900 sit ups. My budget is a little more forgiving than my body.

Naturally, I thought, “What a bunch of horrible people! How can you lie to your spouse about money!? That’s HUGE!! Chris knows everything about our finances whether he likes it or not!”

The reporter then said, “I know I’ve lied about a couple of dresses.”

Uh Oh.

Minor ‘not lies but not exactly being honest about every single little purchase’ counts too? Like the pair of $20 must have shoes that migrated from the store, to my car, then secretly to the house last year? The same pair of shoes that hubby said, ‘Are those new shoes?’ when he saw me wearing them – to which I responded, ‘These old things?’

Yup. I’ve lied.

Surely lots of ladies have lied at some point or another so I asked my friends…

who all fessed to smuggling in a pair of shoes or a shirt a time or two. So either A.) Lots of people are lying about NOT lying or B.) 100% of my friends are rotten folks.

Regardless, I think I’ve done a pretty good job of being open and honest about spending habits – but there is always room for growth. Sorry hon. Those shoes were new and no, there haven’t been any since.

How about you? Please don’t tell me I’m the only liar.

I was snuggled warmly in bed catching some Z’s.

As I’ve said before, I don’t participate in Black Friday.

Hubby on the other hand, was lined up with my brother outside Lowe’s and Home Depot brimming with excitement. For some reason, I imagine him getting a running start and riding the cart across those concrete floors while ‘It’s the Most Wonderful Time of The Year’ blares as a soundtrack in his head.

He saves gift cards people give him for his birthday and other holidays for months and dusts them off on Black Friday. Our checking account remains unharmed.

By the time I wake up, he’s sitting on the living room floor surrounded by his favorite tools and he has a glass of orange juice and a muffin warmed for me. Sorry ladies – he’s taken.

How’d you fair on the most dangerous debt day of the year *er*, I mean, Black Friday?

‘Yes?’ I said sheepishly.

He rolled his eyes and continued forward into the pay lot. I kept my mouth shut as I kept thinking ‘That’s $1 a block! I’d totally walk it!’

He held my hand as we walked a few steps to the restaurant, smiling as he opened the door. We sat at our table and he opened the wine menu for me. The server asked what we wanted to drink and I searched the menu for the least expensive option. My husband, realizing exactly what I was doing, slammed the menu shut on my fingers and asked the server for his recommendations.

As he ordered the drinks, I looked over the menu. He quietly said, ‘Order what you want, not what’s cheapest.’

‘Oh. Sorry.’ I said.

And that’s when I realized what a HORRIBLE dinner date I am.

So. I shut my mouth. Ordered what I wanted (which conveniently actually was the cheapest thing) and didn’t pull out my calculator when the bill arrived.

I’m thankful to be married to a really great guy who, on occasion, finds my off switch.

The first day was easier than I thought. I was so focused on getting ready, getting him fed, and packing supplies, I didn’t really have the time to get depressed about leaving. At work, I was overwhelmed with meetings and projects, and didn’t even have time to eat lunch.

The second day was when everything hit. The nerves had settled and I couldn’t make it out the door without crying.

I’ve regretted the decisions I’ve made about money in the past, but nothing makes you more miserable than the realization that your money decisions are keeping you from the things you love most.

BUT, I am so grateful to my husband who works lots of overtime so I have a few months of working part-time. I’m not quite sure how I got so lucky to be married to him, but you can bet both he and baby get lots of hugs these days.

He was considering going back to school this fall to get a few more certificates and licenses that would allow him to take on larger side projects, and in turn, make us more money. While beach camping, lulled by the relaxing waves, we talked about his desire to continue on with his education. I admire him for always looking out for us as a family and keeping our finances afloat but I asked for a small break. Yes, I understand that my decision to request a delay in pursuing a specific license will have an immediate impact on our finances but, we’ve been hanging on without it for this long, we can hang on a few more months.

He’s going back…just not right now.

Best decision for our finances? Not a chance.

Best decision for our family? I think so.

After dinner and dishes were done, gramps and I watched Keeping Up with the Kardashians. OK, so maybe he wasn’t watching. He was chatting about his recent trip to visit our family in Washington state. Hmmm. Great idea for a future cheap vacation?

Before leaving, I robbed grandma of all her garden grown veggies and a loaf of fresh baked zucchini bread. One less trip to the grocery store!

On Sunday, I went to visit my parents and my mother noticed the nasty bites on my arm. My mother and grandmother rubbed soothing balm to reduce the swelling and stop the itch.

I was considering calling a pest control company but I’m trying my best to spend as little as possible these days. Plus, I’m the only one who gets bit so it seems a bit ridiculous to spend lots money to save myself a few days of itching.

Today, my dad came over toting his sprayer and a heavy dose of insecticides. I think he knew I was too frugal to call a pest control company and figured he’d take care of it for me.

Turns out, you’re never too old to think your dad is superman.

It’s precisely 4 weeks just so you know.

Hubby volunteered to do his first ever major grocery shopping trip since the kidlet is on an awkward feeding schedule right now (he’s a little under the weather). Before you chastise him for not doing the shopping any other time in our marriage, I should point out that I’ve never mowed the yard, cleaned up after the dogs, or done an ounce of home improvement work – I think I come out ahead on the sharing of tasks if you ask me.

Anyway, I’m a little reluctant to let go of my vice grip of control on the grocery shopping, especially since hubby doesn’t generally remember to use coupons and *gasp* he buys name brands. Plus, he loves to buy potato chips, fattening snacks, and cookies since I don’t. But, at the risk of having to eat yet another bowl of cereal for dinner, I smiled, gave him our grocery cash, and told him to have fun.

Hmm. This week I may have cereal for dinner with an appetizer of potato chips. Kidding! I’m sure he’ll do great.

My marriage.

I’ve talked about this investment in the past but haven’t mentioned it in a while.

In the book, The Millionaire Next Door, the author shares the importance of keeping a marriage together. Most millionaires stay married to the same person. A large reason they were able to stay millionaires is because divorce is EXPENSIVE.

Our neighbors announced their upcoming divorce this weekend. Unable to afford the house on their own, they will likely be forced to sell it. I’m sad to lose them as neighbors, and I’m sad at the loss of their marriage.

I know they didn’t wake up yesterday morning and decide they didn’t want to be together anymore. It was a long, slow separation.

No, I’m not stupid. I understand that not all divorces are preventable (and in cases of abuse, they are healthy) but I know I’m guilty of being lazy in my marriage sometimes and neglecting my poor spouse.

So I gave him an extra squeeze, snuggled near him on the couch while I read my book and he watched the sports show he loves so much, and told him how much I really love him.

Financial investments – important. Marriage investment – vital.

That didn’t last long.

On Wednesday, the calls, e-mails, and texting started again.

Maternity leave is great, but keeping my job is important – especially since I use my paycheck to pay my mortgage and pay down debt.

Sure, I understand that they can’t legally fire me for turning off my phone while on disability, but I’m a bit concerned about what will happen AFTER I return to work. You can bet my employer will remember I ignored calls.

All day Wednesday, as the calls came one after the other and I pressed the ‘ignore’ button on my phone, I told myself I deserved just one more day of quiet. I’d get to them on Thursday.

Thursday morning, I woke up to more voicemails and decided…

I’m not going to return any more calls while out on leave.

Bad decision financially? Maybe.

But I only get to spend a few precious moments with my newborn son – and I’m going to enjoy every single one.

Who does the shopping in your family?

Most of my siblings are still in town. They flew in for our family reunion and decided to stick around until after the 4th of July. Since all but two of my six siblings have children, we are limited on how often we can afford to dine out. Feeding multiple families of 6 can add up fast so they all shop at the grocery store together and cook at my parent’s house whenever they are in town.

I drove to my parent’s house on Monday and my ears were immediately assaulted by the noise of nearly a dozen children yelling while running around the yard. My sisters, sisters-in-law, mother, grandmother, and I were in the kitchen making pizza dough and sauce from scratch while talking about men, babies, and differences between authorized users and co-signers on credit cards (yeah, that last subject contribution was mine… obviously) while my husband, brothers, brother-in-law, and father were outside yelling at the kids to stop hitting each other with light sabers.

The pizzas were created, cooked, and came out of the oven to form an assembly line of cut slices for everyone. Grandma made a garden salad and fresh strawberry lemonade and one of my sisters made Olive Garden style breadsticks.

The house was in complete chaos and the noise level rivaled a Metallica concert.

I sat at the crammed dining table and felt sorry for everyone dining in a restaurant that night. Who would possibly want to miss out on a scene like this?

Leaving the house took about an hour as each nephew and niece threw their tiny arms around my neck in a goodbye hug. They all followed it with a pat to the belly saying goodbye to the baby.

Yes. My sisters spent a heck of a lot of time putting together the dough balls into perfect pizza bread shapes. Yup. The kitchen was a mess and it needed a good cleaning. Yes. There was an argument or two about the use of too much salt/onions/water/you name it. But there wasn’t a bill to pay at the end of the night. No one glared at the kids for being too loud. And we didn’t have to tip our servers anything other than praise for the good meal.

I guess I don’t love dining out nearly as much as I thought I did.

Registering was no romantic or joyful occasion. We didn’t dance around the store choosing dishware. It was more of a, ‘No honey, you can’t put a lava lamp or camping gear on the list. Necessities ONLY’ shouted to my poor husband to be.

My sister-in-laws are throwing me a baby shower and asked if I had created a registry yet. A feeling of dread filled my brain. Fortunately, I’m trying to get better at the whole, ‘my friends are the sweetest people, would like to buy gifts, and I better keep my self-righteous mouth shut… plus… I REALLY need help’, so I smiled and said I’d get to it.

My husband, remembering the last registry experience, wasn’t too excited to wander Babies R Us wielding a scanner with me. But, as with most registries, the store is willing to give us 10% off anything we don’t receive as a gift so at the thought of saving money on the horizon, I promised to behave.

We arrived at the store, registered our information, and started the trek. We hardly made it into the bottle section before realizing we had made a HUGE newbie mistake…

Neither one of us have any idea what a baby needs.

Sure, Babies R Us provides a list of a million items ‘babies can’t live without’, but common sense tells me the list is slightly exaggerated. Problem? I don’t know which items I don’t need and I’m not about to waste money – mine or someone else’s – on junk.

Two hours and 5 phone calls to my mother, my sister, and my sister-in-law later, we emerged with a concise list of necessary items. Sure there were a few statements I made a bit too loudly like, ‘No honey. I’m NOT putting a teething ring on there. The kid won’t get teeth for like 18 months. Oh. Um. 12? Wait. When do kids get teeth?!?’ To which my husband responded with a firm grip to my hand dragging me to another section while laughing loudly as if I had made a joke, then he’d say through gritted teeth, ‘Don’t EMBARRASS me!’ By the end, I think he was truly terrified Child Protective Services was going to jump out from behind the crib section like undercover CIA agents ready to arrest us for parental stupidity before our child is even born.

Thankfully, CPS didn’t arrest us, the list is done, and no… there isn’t a lava lamp on there. Though, my husband did manage to sneak a Dr. Seuss book on when I wasn’t looking.

Whew!

Hubby didn’t do too well the last time I was gone. There were a lot of debit transactions for McDonald’s and Rubio’s. Somehow, we still came out behind that week.

This time, I carefully stacked meals in the fridge and gave instructions on how to heat them.

‘OK, so the steak and potatoes are for Monday, the chicken pot pie for Tuesday, pizza Wednesday, and enchiladas on Thursday. I’ll be back home to make you dinner on Friday. There are apples to eat as snacks and a fresh gallon of OJ for breakfast with wheat bagels. Sound like a plan?’ I asked while standing with the refrigerator door open, pointing to the food.

‘Uh huh’ he said, half paying attention.

Fast forward to Friday…

I unloaded my bags, started a load of laundry, and then opened the fridge to grab an apple. Neatly stacked in the fridge, just as I had left them, were all the dinners I had prepared for the week.

Apparently, the 5 minute microwave time was simply too much – plus “a double bacon cheese burger sounded so much better at the time.”

Sigh.

It’s a good thing my husband is so darned lovable… otherwise, I’d have to kill him.

Next time, I’m taking his debit card with me.

Sigh. But of course… he’s right.

I’ve been Jonesing for a rocking chair. I’ve searched Craigslist but the prices are too high and I’m unwilling to part with a couple hundred dollars for a non-necessity item.

I’m sitting in the kitchen on Sunday, talking to my mom about the stupid rocking chair dilemma (yes, I terrorize my poor mother regularly about my tightwad woes) when lo and behold, grandma appears out of nowhere like the furniture fairy.

“Rocking Chair? Did someone say they needed a rocking chair?”

She proceeded to pull out her magic stash of not one, not two, not three… but 5 rocking chairs.

“Tell me which one you like and you can borrow it for as long as you need it” she and my grandpa said.

OK, so maybe she didn’t say I could borrow it and she didn’t say I could keep it as long as I needed it, but they are leaving for vacation next month and I figured I could steal *cough* ‘borrow’ it when they left.

I felt like Goldilocks as I moved from chair to chair, ultimately deciding to steal the plush rocker currently occupied by Coco, their giant stuffed gorilla.

“When are you leaving for vacation?” I asked ‘innocently’.

“You might as well save time and load it now” my grandpa replied.

Hmm. I guess I’m fairly transparent… that or he saw me throw Coco in the closet and attempt to shove the chair out the back door.

Sweet! Rocking chair checked off my list. Borrowed furniture. Can’t say I’ve ever thought of that before.

This whole ‘think outside the box’ thing is still new to me. It’s something I’ll have to get used to.

A hearty thanks to my grams and gramps for helping me stay in budget.

This month, I accidentally took a little more than I should have and noticed a mere $30 to cover more than a week. I spent an hour digging through the pantry and refrigerator and worked to pair what we had with recipes. I stopped by the grocery store to purchase some fresh fruit, veggies, and dairy items and spent $27. Proud of my achievement, I spread the recipe cards for my husband and told him he could choose what he wanted for dinner.

‘I’m leaning toward the Tilapia with fresh tomatoes topped with feta or the turkey burgers and grilled asparagus but I’m up for anything you choose’ I said a little smugly.

He stared at each then said, ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking about a Stouffer’s frozen chicken dinner thingie. Can we just do that instead?’

I stared at him in silence.

A minute ticked by.

‘Or we could do tilapia. That sounds g-g-g-good’ he stuttered.

I didn’t think I had but, yes, I have perfected the look of death.

The crummy Stouffers frozen dinner is still tucked safely in the back of the freezer… where it belongs.

My husband called today to inform me that his is now a ‘follower’ of my blog.

His schedule at work prevented him from reading my blog and he is never on the internet at home so I have always had free rein to talk about him – respectfully of course.

Ever since I wrote the baby name blog, he suddenly has an interest in what you all have to say – especially in ‘all those awesome folks who agreed that Cash is a good name’.

Crud. Now I have to filter myself.

It is a sad, sad day in history.

I make one exception to my pack my own lunch rule, co-worker birthdays. Traditionally, our department celebrates birthdays by taking the birthday boy or girl out to lunch at the venue of their choice. On average, we have 1 to 2 birthday lunch celebrations per month.

Typically, the lunches cost $15-$20 a plate and everyone orders a $3-$5 drink with their meal. I don’t order a drink and order the least expensive item on the menu, generally a small house salad with an ice water. When the bill arrives, it is split equally between the group and my portion is $25-$30 even though my actual share is about $6.

I would decline the birthday lunch invitations but this is very, very frowned upon and I do enjoy the meal out every once in a while – I simply hate to pay so much for it. They do pay for my meal on my birthday but I always pick a cheap kabob shop and the most expensive item is $6.95.

I know this is a common problem but I haven’t heard a good solution other than ‘suck it up and pay for it’. Anyone know of ways to combat this problem?

Telling myself no is getting to be old hat. Sure, there are definitely things I would love to have, but I’m becoming more comfortable with the thought that I can’t have everything my heart desires.

I’m even pretty good at limiting myself with purchases for the baby. Correction, I’m pretty good at buying NOTHING for the baby. Hmm. Perhaps I need to at least work on getting a bed for the poor little dude.

But I have a fatal flaw…

I want my husband to have absolutely everything and I’m realizing this could be a problem.

We received notice from his school that he is eligible to participate in the graduation ceremony next month. He’ll have two classes to take in the summer, but since they don’t have a winter ceremony, summer graduates walk early.

Ever since we received the notice, we have been receiving a barrage of e-mails, letters, and phone calls from the school and outside vendors to buy everything under the sun for the graduate.

$200 invitations? Yes! We NEED those. They have the OFFICIAL school seal! He DESERVES it.
$500 lifetime membership to the alumni association? Of course he needs that! How else will we get tickets to games?!?
$299 diploma holder? It’s important!
$175 cap and gown package? Yes! How much more for the tassel?
$400 graduation day photos? Sure!

I set all the information in a neat pile and started to review it with my husband over dinner. After listening to about 10 seconds of my spiel, he grabbed the pile.

‘No. No. Definite no. I don’t need it. That’s ugly. And not on your life’ he said as he looked through each one. He tossed the pile into the recycling bin and started to do the dishes. He looked at me and smiled, ‘How was your day?’

‘A lot better before you rained on my spending parade’ I sighed.

My husband is one of the hardest working men I know. He works a full time job, attends school full time, and somehow finds time to make money on the weekends. It’s hard to get past the ‘deserving’ factor and focus on the ‘lack of money’ factor. Thankfully, he doesn’t take advantage of my flaw.

Can you say ‘no’ to yourself but find yourself saying ‘yes’ to everyone else?

None of them.

My dad is my hero so naturally I wanted to name the kid after him… or after my brothers… or after my grandfathers. Something to honor the truly great men in my life.

Despite my best suggestions, my husband shoots down my ideas and keeps coming back to one name – Cash.

Is it because of our newfound lifestyle of paying cash for everything? After our promise to remain debt free forever?

Nope.

The guy is seriously obsessed with Johnny Cash.

I called my sisters for some support on the issue and they meekly said they happened to like the name. Thinking my husband had somehow poisoned the well or bribed my sisters, I asked the TSA officer at the airport while she was giving me a 20 minute security pat down. She, who named each of her kids after band members from the Beatles, supported my husband.

I’m losing the battle and, don’t tell my husband but… Cash is slowly starting to grow on me.

If I ever meet Dave Ramsey, I’ll swear Cash is after the lifestyle, not the singer.

As an afterthought, my husband said, ‘At least I didn’t suggest we name him Sue’

“A Boy Named Sue” by Johnny Cash

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn’t leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don’t blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me “Sue.”

Well, he must o’ thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a’ lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I’d get red
And some guy’d laugh and I’d bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain’t easy for a boy named “Sue.”

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I’d roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I’d search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I’d stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me “Sue.”

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother’d had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: “My name is ‘Sue!’ How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!”

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a’ gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I’ve fought tougher men
But I really can’t remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin’ at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: “Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong.”

He said: “Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the son-of-a-$&%*$ that named you “Sue.’”

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I’m gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

Last month, my husband had a serious talk with me about my public transit use. As a frequent user of public transit, I follow a very strict set of rules when travelling. I don’t talk to others, I don’t carry or wear anything expensive, and I avoid eye contact with everyone except the driver. This system has worked well for me for years and I can honestly say I have enjoyed zoning out for two hours each day. Unfortunately, things have changed. A new, unwelcome group of riders have started travelling my route. I wrote about a problem a few months ago where I had to call transit security but… there have been more problems since. Some not as bad – some worse.

I like to think that, for the most part, I can take care of myself. I’m acutely aware of my surroundings. I carry a cell phone and a can of mace. And I’m a pretty mean fighter thanks to the several years I spent in training after college as a self-confidence booster.

But each passing week, I feel less strong and more vulnerable with the changing crowd.

I thought it was just me but each time I’d share an incident with my husband, I could see he was uncomfortable. One night, he came home from school and said, “You aren’t taking public transit anymore.” On his ride home, a man had pulled down his pants and started urinating everywhere.

Really? That’s what set him over the edge? I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’ve seen men do the same thing multiple times before and… I’m kinda used to it.

I put up a half hearted fight about how driving was expensive and how driving a vehicle on a Southern California freeway was just as dangerous as riding public transit but he said, “I’d rather have you die in a fiery car wreck than from a stab wound!”

How romantic?

So, I drive to work now. My husband may be breathing easier but thanks to my car emissions – the environment, my wallet, and future generations won’t be. Forgive me.

I’d like to think I’ll go back to my love affair with public transit…

But I guess we’ll have to see.

Sure, he’s a brilliant guy. He’s finishing his business degree where he specializes in management and finance yet…

He’s clueless about the nuts and bolts of our finances.

He participates in our ‘Family Finance’ meetings and he contributes ideas as to what our next steps should be but when it comes to the actual account numbers or even knowing where our accounts are, he has absolutely no idea.

This may come as a surprise (ha ha) but I LOVE managing our finances. I love obsessing about the tidiness of our bills. Ask, and I can probably quote any account number and any balance from memory. Heck, I can tell you the names of every teller at our bank and what ‘specials’ they are running this month.

Thanks to the time obligations required by school, my husband can’t possibly know everything about every account. Plus, he doesn’t really care anyway. That’s not his thing – and I’m OK with that. A big problem presents itself about this set up – if I should pass away unexpectedly, how would he manage?

Judging by the fact that he said, ‘Our second mortgage isn’t with B of A?’ last night, I’m guessing he’d struggle.

Dave Ramsey suggests we all assemble Legacy Drawers. Drawers that contain all the pertinent information including our wills, health insurance information, auto insurance information, etc. Yes, it’s a bit morbid, but we’re all going to die someday.

Help out your spouse (or ask your spouse to help YOU out) and create a Legacy Drawer.

Go to Dave Ramsey’s Legacy Drawer page for help on what to gather. Do it now!

OK, OK, honest truth? The REAL trouble started 15 weeks ago when I discovered our impending parenthood. I looked at my car, previously seen as perfectly reliable and safe, and decided it was a traveling death trap and I needed a new ginormous SUV ASAP. Before you say it, let me say it for you… ‘That’s a Californian for you.’

I shared my terror and newly discovered hatred for my car with my husband and he sweetly said, ‘Sure hon. You are more than welcome to get a USED car… as soon as you come up with fifteen grand cash.’

He’s a friggin’ laugh a minute.

Back to President’s Day, I clicked on the internet to surf some of the debt blogs I like to read and my home page pop up said, ‘CAR SALE – CAR SALE – CAR SALE!!!’ and of course, the photo was of my shiny new dream car. I began to think, ‘It won’t hurt to just test drive it. Test driving never hurt a soul’ followed by, ‘I wouldn’t have to finance much’ and ‘My raise will cover it’ completely ignoring the fact that future daycare expenses will more than eat through my raise AND my husband’s raise.

I put on my shoes and practically vaulted out the door in my excitement to get a new car when I received the following text from my husband, ‘Just wanted to let you know how much I love you and I’m so proud of how we handle our finances.’

I glanced up at the security cameras on the front of the house and froze, wondering if he was somehow watching me then remembered I had paid out of our budgeted cash for lunch and he had made a comment about how great it was to not use the debit card.

Daaaaaaaang it!!! Guilt ALWAYS works.

I went back inside to finish watching Maury and polished off an entire cantaloupe in the process. I had the rest of the afternoon to assure myself that my car is fine… it’s my patience that needs the work.

My sister and I sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub chatting away while enjoying the skyline views across downtown. I’m not sure how it happened, but the subject of Bank of America was brought up. My sister recently financed a car through them and of course, I ‘kindly’ told her she was an idiot to finance through them. I ‘may’ have also said I’d rather die than owe “those life sucking *%@&#%’s an ounce of my future earnings.”

My sister, who knows about my 18 month long fight with B of A, smiled an evil smile and egged me on. “Why don’t you stop paying them?”

“And further my relationship with the devil?!?! I’m not going to sink as low as those scum suckers!” I raged on.

She grinned, knowing I’d explode into a 30 minute ‘show’.

In the middle of my tirade, I happened to notice someone taking an interest in my ‘I hate B of A’ speech. Rather than shut my mouth, I ranted for a few minutes longer to my sister and we moved on to more interesting topics like gastritis, carrot cake, and cancer.

My sister excused herself to use the restroom and the person who was showing an odd interest in my tirade came up to me and said, ‘Hi, my name is Wade. That’s my wife Karen. I’ve known James for 20 years. And I work for Bank of America… in the mortgage division.’

I responded, ‘Hi, my name is Rebekah. That’s my husband Chris. James is my brother. And I enjoy putting my foot in my mouth.’

Wade is a laid back guy, but it’s a little hard to rebound from my claim that all B of A employees are ‘horrific scum suckers.’ He tried to explain that B of A is doing the best they can do and losing client forms is a common occurrence. He encouraged me to keep trying and wished me a good night.

Losing forms is common? Keep trying?

So. Sorry to my brother. Sorry to Wade – a non-scum sucker.

But I still hate Bank of America.

A few months passed and I still found myself easily able to walk by any and all baby sections without even a slight draw toward them. I thought, perhaps it’s because the baby didn’t seem real to me and after we actually saw the first ultrasound, that was when I would go crazy with spending.

Four and a half months in, an ultrasound and a heartbeat later, and I still have yet to spend a dime.

Sure, I glance around Craigslist for killer deals on baby furniture (I haven’t found anything) but I have yet to feel the need to spend.

I thought it was just me. Maybe I’m simply too cheap? Then, late one night as my husband was rubbing my little belly, he said, ‘I hope we have a boy.’ I smiled at my ‘macho’ man who wants his ‘manly’ boy until he said, ‘We can get way more hand-me-downs if we have a boy.’

The realization that he’s becoming fearfully frugal brought a tear of joy to my eye *wink*.

Maybe things will be different when the kid arrives. Maybe I’ll feel the need to spend, spend, spend. But for now, I’ll keep plugging away at my debt and worry about cartfuls of clothing later.

*For those who don’t know, ‘a short sale is a sale of real estate in which the sale proceeds fall short of the balance owed on the property’s loan’ (thanks wikipedia)*

My husband and I purchased our home almost four years ago as a short sale and understand the headache the process can be.

Tonight, the bank accepted my brother’s offer in conjunction with the original owner’s contribution to the property loan shortage. We are happy for them as this is a new and exciting step in their lives…

BUT…

Goodbye rent money.

My husband is ready to have a roommate free house and in reality, it couldn’t come at a better time since we both received raises, but I’m having a hard time letting go of the security blanket.

My husband convinced me that, for at least a little while, we need ‘us’ time.

When are they officially moving out? Somewhere between 14 and 120 days. Gotta love the solid answers from banks.

Slightly desperate for couches that don’t smell like dog pee (thanks to the house-sitting incident)… cancel that… DESPERATE for couches that don’t smell like dog pee, I called my husband to ask if he could do the job.

(For those who are wondering why we didn’t get some cheap couches off Craigslist yet, I read a Time Magazine article about bed bugs that gave me cause to think twice about touching other people’s furniture. At least I know this set is bed bug free.)

I called my husband to ask if he’d be willing to do the job – assuming he wouldn’t. Silly me. I forgot who I married.

I told him the story and he said, ‘Does the hot tub work?’

‘No sweetie, it’s old. It just needs to be thrown away.’ I said.

‘But is it broken?’ he asked.

‘I’m pretty sure’

‘Could I fix it?’

‘No. We’re…’

‘But I could try’

‘Um. Let’s just take it to the…’

‘I’ll call our neighbor to help. I’ve always wanted a hot tub.’

‘Honey, I only want the couch set. I don’t want a broken hot tub…’

‘I think I have some concrete in the garage. I could pour a pad over the weekend. Tools! I’ll need to pull out my tools. I’ll borrow the tow trailer from grandpa…’

I could hear him furiously scribbling on his note pad.

I clicked END on my cell phone. My part of this conversation was obviously over.

The best part about my husband, he can fix anything. The worst part about my husband, he can fix anything and he knows it.

All I wanted was a couch that doesn’t smell like pee. Now I’m knee deep in a broken hot tub with a husband happily puttering around with his tool belt envisioning outdoor sports watching and beer drinking while sitting in his hot tub.

Sometimes, that man can really make me laugh.

[[ Thanks Stef. I really appreciate the couches]]

When it came to the house sitter debacle, my husband was furious. When we had to purchase the cleaning supplies and replacement curtains, he mumbled a lot under his breath while pulling out the debit card.

Hours passed and he was still angry. I stared at him dumbfounded and wondered what he was going to do. Demand repayment for supplies? Demand she replace the floors? Demand she replace the ruined furniture?

He stayed angry for a record 29 hours. During those 29 hours, he carefully calculated the damages and saved the receipts from the purchases. While he wasn’t willing to demand she replace the floors or the furniture, he was adamant my brother pay the cleaning bill since my brother insisted we not pursue anything with my sister-in-law’s sister.

I typed out my brother’s rent bill and asked my husband for the receipts so I could add the cleaning bill to his rent bill.

Do you want to know how I figured out the exact 29 hour time frame of my husband’s anger?

He went to the kitchen, grabbed the receipts, stared at them, and then said, ‘You know what hon, it’s not worth the fight.’ He threw the receipts in the trash and went back outside to rake the lawn.

That’s the end of it.

We have to replace our couches, it’s not an option to leave them. The stains are permanent. We’ve decided to do the best we can and try to live with it until next summer when we pay off all our debt and after we’ve saved some cash.

The house still smells and I get angry every time I sit on the couch. I could fight with my husband over it but I’m not willing to make the mess even bigger.

The only small victory is that we didn’t pay her. Of course, the victory was promptly smashed when my brother told me he paid her anyway.

She will never learn a lesson. I learned mine.

Of course… I’m not sure my mother and sister are as willing to move on. My brother may have to hide from them for the rest of his life.

The first class was this week and the facilitator asked if anyone was a returning student. My husband and I raised our hands along with one other couple. After the video, we gathered into a small group and were immediately asked if the course had changed our lives. My husband and I said it had and that we lived below our means.

‘Are you debt free?’ a classmate asked.

‘Um. No. We have about 10 grand left.’ I said, ashamed two years has passed and I’m still carrying financial baggage.

‘At least you are working on it. And you’re here!’ she said smiling.

The rest of the group talked about their struggles and goals for about 20 minutes and then we all headed home. It was nice to hear others are fighting the same things as me.

It’s funny that I can openly and fearlessly share every little detail about my debt with you but I’m completely ashamed to share it with the small group – then again, I don’t have to shake your hand every Sunday morning.

If you haven’t been through FPU, you should consider it. The lessons are great but more than that, you have someone to look you in the eye every week who asks… how did you do this week?

Suddenly, spending feels different.

He went to the discount auto parts store down the street to buy a replacement but came home empty handed.

‘Didn’t they have it in stock?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. But I’m not paying $125 for a piece of plastic and a couple screws. I’m going to shop around and see if I can get a better deal’ he said.

I blinked… then stared.

My husband is a no-nonsense kind of guy. He walks into a store, finds what he wants, and buys it. From grills to socks, the man doesn’t waste time with comparisons – which may explain how I was lucky enough to marry the guy.

So I don’t know who that man was in my kitchen – but he certainly wasn’t my husband.

He spent the next hour researching different suppliers until finally settling on a company who was willing to provide the part for a little less than $60 with free shipping.

Meanwhile, I was still standing in the kitchen, staring off into nowhere, completely confused.

This morning, as my husband was driving to work at 3:30am, he was pulled over by a police officer. My husband explained what happened and then shared his experience with the ‘rip off auto parts store’ and his attempt to save money by ordering the part online. The cop laughed, agreed with him about the ‘rip off auto parts store’, told him to have a nice day, and let him go.

He now brags to everyone that he saved 50% by shopping around and bonded with a cop over the experience.

I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know when it happened. But somehow, somewhere, my husband embraced frugality.

We’re getting there.

Did we go to a fancy steakhouse? A nice Italian restaurant? Happy hour at our favorite sushi joint?

We spent a romantic evening at… Taco Bell.

Don’t be jealous OK?

My husband rented a 99 cent movie (a big spend for me since I always linger 3 – 4 months on a waiting list and rent them for free at the library) starring… Jennifer Lopez.

Perhaps he was intoxicated by the scent of food not cooked by either of us – generally, he’s not a fan of chick flicks, especially those starring Jennifer Lopez.

As we enjoyed our cheap Mexican food, we talked about the no dining out policy and how we felt about it.

And by ‘we’ talked, I mean ‘I’ talked.

‘We’ decided to continue ‘our’ policy until October 8th, the day we leave for Italy, as a way to stash as much cash as possible before we leave.

Here we go again!

How would you deal with this?:

Can you provide any suggestions for someone whose spouse is still in denial about their spending addiction? My husband has been hiding his debts from me for a long time. Now, because his bills are out of control, he can’t hide it anymore & pay his share of the household bills. I have offered to help, suggested counseling…does anyone have any suggestions?

Here is a warning – you may not like my answer.

Let me explain…

I didn’t have a lot of debt when my husband and I married. He brought in some pretty large chunks of debt and collections that were ‘inherited’ from someone else. Since I had never dealt with lines of credit or collections, I sought the advice of my parents for a problem solving strategy.

They suggested I pay off the debt as quickly as possible, negotiate with the collections company, and move on with my life.

Being the mature, reasonable adult I was, I promptly ignored them. Then, wisely, since I was already drowning in debt, frustrated, and hurt, I bought a brand spanking new car and took several trips to Hawaii.

When you have lots of debt, you get to a point where you simply give up. To the reader who e-mailed me, I’ve been exactly where you are right now and I’m getting to the other side – alive and breathing.

When I finally came to my senses in late 2008 and started to make efforts to fix the problem, my parents already knew I was a financial idiot. I think they were just waiting for me to raise my hand and ask for help. They never got angry and never made me feel bad about myself. I’m very fortunate to have a great set of parents. In short, unless you are REALLY REALLY good, you parents and family probably already know.

As for the exact words I used? You read them with my parents. Yup, I ‘came out’ on this blog.

If you need help with ideas on how to fix more serious issues in finances, ask for it. Then, save the grief, listen, and take action.

Here’s the part you won’t like. Only ask for advice and support, don’t ask for money.

Dave Ramsey is right. When money exchanges hands in families, Thanksgiving dinner will never taste the same. I can tell you that from personal experience.

You made the mess. Clean it up.

My husband hasn’t paid a bill since 2004.

Don’t get me wrong. Up until recently, my husband was involved in the decision making. I was simply responsible for organizing how bills were paid. We have always worked our finances together – especially after deciding to pay off debt.

In January, my husband started taking more units in school while still working a full time job with side jobs. In June, he signed up for 5 hour night classes and when he isn’t studying, he’s working. Understandably, actively participating in finances isn’t possible anymore.

I didn’t think it would bother me. I’m a nerd. I live for Excel spreadsheets and I balance my checkbook almost hourly for fun. Take over everything? Sounds fantastic!

It’s been 7 months of sole money management and I’m beginning to get a clear understanding of why this is bad.

He doesn’t have a clue about our money and I’m constantly stressed about making the right decisions. I feel like I’m making mistakes and hurting us financially. It’s not that I can’t handle the finances on my own; I hate the sole responsibility. I’d be closer to a breaking point but I’m coasting through knowing he’ll be out of school by next week to offer a reprieve.

I have a countdown marked on my calendar.

I don’t know how people do it alone. Financial stress seems to permeate every part of your life and the feeling that you alone are responsible for the financial success of two people is, at the very least, hugely uncomfortable. We made some great progress on our finances this month (update tomorrow) but the pessimist in me only focuses on what I could have done better.

I miss my financial partner.

Are you a sole money manager? Or do you share the responsibility? What works best for you?

I told you I picked a good one.

But believe it or not, this can be a problem. My husband attends night school and at times, we barely cross paths before he has to leave for class. In the past, he would buy food at school. But on our debt reduction plan, this isn’t an option anymore. Instead, he plays what I like to call…’Refrigerator Russian Roulette.’

He opens the door, grabs a Tupperware, and eats whatever is inside regardless of age or smell.

I am not a fan of this game.

I am in favor of stretching food dollars but I have limits. Sometimes I will walk in the front door and catch him eating a dinner I made more than a week earlier. When I tell him he shouldn’t eat old food, he replies, ‘It smelled only slightly bad… and it’s free.’

At times (not often – I swear he has an iron stomach), I’ll find him reclined on the couch. ‘Something didn’t sit right’ he groans. And I lovingly reply ‘Perhaps the 5 week old pot roast?’

I love the man but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if his dedication to become debt free borders on the fanatical.

If you struggle with the same man I do, or perhaps you see that person in the mirror, read this article from the Mayo Clinic. You’ve got 4 days to eat those leftovers. Any time past that isn’t healthy – even if it is ‘free’.

I’ve heard advertisements for the Plato’s Closet chain but hadn’t researched how it worked. I have always donated my used clothing to the local thrift store and hadn’t looked into other possibilities. Plato’s Closet will pay you for your clothing (if it’s 12 – 18 months old and made by one of their acceptable designer brands including Charlotte Russe and Forever 21). My first thought was, ‘12 to 18 months? If it’s that ‘young’ I’m probably still wearing it.’ But hey, we all know that somewhere, hidden from our husbands, is a shirt or two or three in the back of our closet with the tags still on that didn’t look as good at home as it did in the store.

Sewell also sites Facebook as a great way to sell things. He referenced a woman who sold nearly all of her possessions in 24 hours. While I think her experience is rare, I think it’s a great idea to use Facebook in combination with other methods like garage sales or swap meets.

My grandparents are moving into my parent’s home next month. My mother was asking me for ways to sell the duplicates from their newly combined households. When I shared this article with her, she volunteered to be the guinea pig to see if these new methods will actually work. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Have you ever used Facebook or Plato’s Closet as a way to sell things? Where have you successfully sold the most items?

A job.

He was laid off on Friday.

I’m struggling with this not only because of the lack of significant income but more because of how it happened. There were two employees laid off on Friday. The other employee was given three days notice, my husband was given no notice. I could understand if my husband had been at all unreliable or perhaps a bad employee, but he was neither. They simply needed some final projects completed and were worried he wouldn’t put in the extra overtime to complete them if he knew he wouldn’t have a job by Friday afternoon.

My husband has worked at this company for SIX years. I expected better from them.

I’m dealing with it the best way I can. I’m working to reduce, reduce, reduce. I’ll go more into that later.

I’m also trying my best to be something I am not – optimistic. Here’s my new list of reasons it’s G-R-E-A-T he’s unemployed:

1 – He can make all those mid-day calls to businesses only open from the annoying Monday through Friday 8-5 window. I’ve been trying to call my bank for YEARS!

2 – My husband, who is far more talented in the kitchen than I am, will cook more. Sure it will be Ramen, but it will somehow taste better since he’s making it.

3 –We won’t be weighed down by worries about job loss.

4 – We will be more creative in our bill pay process. Perhaps San Diego Gas and Electric will accept peanut butter cookies and hugs for payment? How about if the cookies are homemade?

5 – I don’t have to worry about my car getting repossessed because… I OWN IT!! And, we’re ahead in payments on the truck so we have some glide time.

6 – I will be able to empathize, once again, with some of my readers on what it’s like to not have a job and wonder how on earth we are going to pay the bills.

So here’s to my struggling readers – I’ve been there before, I’m there again, and we’ll survive it.

My husband is attending a bachelor party this weekend and the event required one credit card to book the trip for all five attendees (the bill could not be split). Most of our friends know about our recent credit card payoff (maybe shouting that fact from my roof and breaking into song was a clear sign) and naturally suggested that since we ‘had the room’ on our card (as if it were free), that my husband pay for the entire trip and be reimbursed later.

I’m not going to lie. I am upset.

Perhaps I’d be more trusting if this hadn’t happened before with concert and event tickets and in the end, we were always short. People conveniently ‘forget’ to pay or promise to pay later and then get annoyed when reminded. Plus, the credit card will be kept on file in case there are damages to the room or if alcohol is consumed.

When I asked why someone else couldn’t pony up a credit card, he told me it was because everyone is nearly maxed out but us. Um… isn’t that a good reason NOT to loan these people our credit card?

My husband and I rarely fight but this is a sensitive issue for me and I feel like we are opening ourselves up to a lot of potential debt.

Am I overreacting?

We don’t see each other often. Perhaps that’s why our marriage is so great. We don’t have time to fight – heck we’re just so darn excited to see one another we don’t really… um… talk much.

He took a rare three nights off last week and we went running and cycling together every day. We made dinner. We walked the dogs. We watched movies. We remembered what it was like to be married.

I couldn’t help but think about how wonderful it was to have him around – to see him relax, even for just a night or two. He must have been thinking the same thing. He said, ‘I want to work less and live my life more.’ He has decided to work 6 days per week and 2 nights per week – and yes, that’s a cut-back (he was working 6 days and 6 nights).

I can’t agree with him more. As he toils to pay our debt, I can’t help but wonder if our self-inflicted punishment of hard labor is worse than the crime of spending. I wonder if one day, we’ll look back and regret the time we missed when our life was just us. We can cover our bills plus some without the extra work so we’ve decided to slow down.

So… we will pay things off more slowly BUT I have my husband back – and I’ve missed him dearly.

My husband did an odd job fixing a sink and earned a crisp one hundred dollar bill. We decided to split the cash and use it this weekend. A ‘fair’ split would have been closer to 80 for him and 20 for me but he smiled and said, ‘Have fun’ while handing me a fifty (And that ladies…. is one of the millions of reasons why I love my man).

So, I’ve got to survive this weekend on $50…
$35 of which goes to a shared hotel with the bride to be.

It’s like going to the Cheesecake Factory and limiting yourself to 25 calories.

Should be interesting.

He did not get the government job.

Short Term Financial Effects:
We will be able to pay our bills at the same pace since he won’t have to take a large salary cut.

Long Term Financial Effects:
Possible unemployment in 6-8 months. No government pension and retirement healthcare.

We’re still positive. He’s working. I’m working. We’re paying our bills. We’re living below our means. The construction market has started to take an upward turn and his job has become a bit more stable. So, we went on a 20 mile bike ride, grilled some chicken, and had a glass of wine on the back patio.

In the big scheme of things… life is still pretty darn good.

I am very disappointed.

This event led to the following changes:

1. More involvement by both of us. Often in relationships, one person manages the finances. When things don’t go well and money is too tight, this person feels the stress, the pressure, and the responsibility for the mess. We have both decided to dedicate and hour each week to review each transaction. Now we have more checks and balances on each others spending – otherwise, we’ll have another bad month.

2. We are refocusing our goals and setting rewards. Our next payoff is still a ways away and we’re getting frustrated and bored. We decided to give ourselves something to look forward to after our next payoff. It’s nothing huge, maybe a dinner out or a trip to the theater, but rewards between payoffs has become something we need to stay motivated.

3. Reconsidering our numbers. We went back to make sure our numbers were working for our ever changing budget. We’ve been underspending on gas and overspending on miscellaneous necessities (car repairs, house repairs, etc.). We decided to adjust our numbers and perhaps pay a little less on our credit card so we can stop panicking when things aren’t balancing. Leaving the numbers the same would be great, but it’s obviously not working and it’s causing frustration.

4. We have decided to spread our focus. It’s easy to let finances consume our thoughts and lives. Rather than let this stress grow, we decided to let ourselves enjoy other things in life. Running, swimming, yoga, gardening groups, and organizing the garage help to keep our mind free of the finance clutter in our brains.

When there are long distances between payoffs, it’s important to work at what is frustrating you. You can’t solve everything, and it will be painful, but taking steps to at least reduce stress will help to prevent burnout. I’d rather take things a bit more slowly than give up entirely.

What have you done to motivate yourself and prevent burnout?

We argued about who should pay for groceries, who should pay for dinner, and who should pay for everything in between. I hated asking him for his half of the rent each month. He was my husband – not my roommate. It finally came to the breaking point when he couldn’t afford rent and we had to clean out our savings and use our credit card to get by. We opened a joint checking account the very next month.

We learned to work beside each other and the arguing stopped.

We made our mistakes – financing nice cars, charging vacations to credit cards, and remodeling our bathroom on credit – but now that we’re working to become debt free, we are partners in the fight. I wish someone had told me early on that working together as a couple was a necessity for a good marriage and good financial health. As I listen to my co-worker talk about his wife ‘owing’ him money for tires on her car, I couldn’t help but think… ‘No wonder he’s on his third marriage.’

So how do we do it? We each get a $3 daily allowance in cash each week. I don’t care what he spends his on, and in return, he doesn’t care what I spend mine on. We usually spend the money on work clothes or a bi-weekly dinner out together. This week, we split the cost of a silly $15 video game we both would enjoy and a $25 set of solar lit pavers for our garden. (And yes I know, $3 may be more or less than you spend, but it works for us)

My husband and I rarely argue about money now that we’ve enacted the $3 daily allowance rule, but we still fight about very serious issues… like the direction of the toilet tissue.

Do you keep your money separate? Or do you have a joint account? And how much do you allow each other to ‘blow’ each day?

I hate our couches and I think they are ugly.

This week, my husband did what good husbands do – he attempted to solve my dilemma of ‘seating space’. He came home with a behemoth of a recliner and said, ‘Look honey! More seats!! Can you believe someone was going to throw this away?!’

I bit my tongue before a ‘Yes’ slipped out. Instead, I said ‘Wow hon, it’s… wow.’

‘And they have TWO! I’m picking the other one up tomorrow. How awesome is that?! Seats!!’

He happily jumped in the chair and reclined, a big grin spreading across his face.

How could I be mad or ungrateful? He solved my ‘seating dilemma’. Sure I have an ugly blue giant in my living room (err… soon to be two), but I’ve learned to take his efforts for what they are. That ugly chair is a monument to the fact that my husband listens to me and he’s doing his best to make my life easier… without spending a dime.

I’m going to stop whining about the sofas for a while. Who cares about sofas when I have a man like that?

So here’s an open note to my mother – and I’ll try my best not to sound like a Boyz to Men song.

Mom,

Thank you for teaching me that children don’t need money to be happy. You made sure I knew love from my family was worth far more than the cash so frequently doled out to my friends from their uninvolved parents. I had the happiest childhood (and heck, adulthood) a kid could ask for and it was never because you showered me with the finest things in life – you knew you couldn’t buy joy. You showed me love, compassion, kindness, and at times… the back of your hand when I deserved it.

Thank you for teaching me responsibility. You didn’t teach me how to get into a financial mess, but you taught me how to own up to my mistakes and pay for them no matter how much it hurts. And speaking of taking responsibility… um… yes, I was the one who left the candle burning and set the counter on fire 11 years ago. Sorry about that.

Thank you for your faith in me. When we went on that college campus tour and I saw the $26,000 a year price tag, I told you it was a nice dream but it would never happen. You looked at me like I was insane and spent the next few hours with the financial aid department. They told me I had to keep a nearly perfect GPA and you told me you knew I could do it… and I did… but only because you believed in me more than I believed in myself.

I wish every kid could have a mother like you. The world would be a great place.

I love you mom

I’m a very private person. Stop laughing. I’m serious.

I don’t mind sharing things with all of you but when it comes to sharing things with family… my lips are sealed.

I haven’t exactly shared our financial situation with Chris’ grandparents. You know, the ones who told us not to get in debt?

They are lovely people but… I didn’t want them to look at me and nod their heads in shame – that or wish their beloved grandson hadn’t married this credit card addicted hoodlum.

I was lucky enough to dine with them recently and I talked about everything… except money of course.

‘Lovely weather lately huh?’

‘How are you feeling these days?’

I breathed a sigh of relief as we dropped them off at their home and started to say goodbye…

Until my husband sat down and started talking about…

M-O-N-E-Y.

I wanted to strangle him. It was as if he were telling my dog loving mother that we had a history of puppy killing.

I can’t necessarily blame him. He’s excited about our financial plan and he’s proud of our progress but…

I’m not going to lie, I considered jumping across the table to tackle him to silence.

I wanted to scream out and defend myself. I wanted to say, ‘I’m not a shoe or purse gal… I just like vacationing… and remodeled bathrooms… and buying your grandson TV’s… and the smell of new cars!’ But I realized…

It didn’t matter. I had still done exactly what they had told us not to do. It didn’t matter why.

There was a long uncomfortable silence before his grandpa asked about our plans and offered suggestions on how to pay things off faster.

I could feel his disappointment.

If nothing else, it reminded me of the importance of what we’re doing and ignited yet another fire under my butt to stretch myself more.

Tell someone about your financial situation. Tell someone you know will ask you about it. Tell someone… knowing full well it will annoy you. That annoyance may be the motivation you need.