September 28, 2015
I made pantry dinner twice last week. A couple other nights saw us reheating leftovers, and then we had take out.
Our lives, post-baby, still revolve around dinner and what to have, and who’ll make it happen.
Things that have to happen before we can settle down and adult for the night: walk the dog(s), feed the dog(s), feed the Inchworm, play with the Inchworm, bathe the Inchworm, feed the Inchworm again, put the Inchworm to bed.
This is after a 12-14 hour day of working and Inchworm-related activities, so, at some point, it doesn’t really matter how we make dinner happen, just that it does happen. Sometimes I’m inspired and have enough short breaks to whip it up delightful oven miracles. Sometimes PiC gets home to an explosion of toys, an Angry Inchworm, épuisé wife, and that means he should magic something out of the pantry or the crisper.
We both work, and we both have to eat, and our schedules are topsy turvy most days. I’m pretty Type A and live by my calendar but these days I’m relaxed enough to count myself happy if we both get our work done in a reasonable time and we both get nourished.
Right in this instant, I’ve only ever been more tired a couple times in my life but I’ve never been this sure that this is the best life right now. I have my baby family, we’re both working and building our careers, and we both have to compromise to make it work.
I think it’s our healthy relationship barometer. When things aren’t going well, dinner is later and sketchier and more often eaten separately and standing up. When we’ve got our bits and pieces in the right bins, we have a bit of a warm potato pass off. I might have started a side or an entree cooking, leaving the finishing touches to PiC while I wrangle the kidlet, or I might have a one pot meal finishing up when he walks in the door so he gets to walk the kids. Other nights I have exactly two brain cells still keeping each other warm in the frosty cavern of a mind and he’ll arrive with a basket of Korean fried chicken to go with the cold rice I’d made lots of the day before.
Every day there’s a compromise. He takes the early morning shift (and weekends) so I can sleep. I sleep an extra hour or two so that I can take the all day shift. We split the evening duties because we’ve both worked long days and some things are easier with four hands and a knee.
In other words: symbiosis.
Frankly the only one who’s losing out on this equation at the moment is Seamus who is nursing hurt feelings over my pushing back my dining chair and accidentally running him over a little. I’m sorry!
Actually he’s having a bit of a rough time overall: he doesn’t get our undivided attention, LB likes him too much and therefore he comes in for a share of slobbery kiss attempts he’s not much into, and he’d like to play more. But all of these things would be, minus the slobber, wishful thinking even without LB because we have to be really careful of his skin.
It’s not doggy heaven but he gets fed enough and regularly, he has three beds and more warm places to rest his grizzled muzzle than he can use, he’s well loved, gets walks three times a day and sometimes we run into his fellow doggy the Titan and they have a mighty clash-romp.
Other compromises: I still do all our tax planning and financial stuff. I love it, and I’m a control freak. He does our auto maintenance: repairs, routine checks and gassing up. I do most of the laundry, he’s got the dishes and most of the sweeping and vacuuming. Travel planning: me. Grocery shopping: him. Electronics, purchasing and fixing: me. Clothing, picking out sporting goods, fun gear: him.
Nothing’s perfect, we have our little tiffs when one or the other is flat out of patience and exhausted but they’re rare. We’re getting better at saying: I’m so tired, can you do X for me please.
Like when he ran his first road race since LB came along. He does 99% of the morning duties. This time, he mentioned that he really needed a good sleep before he went out running, so at 5 am when ze was burbling away, I dragged myself up to take care of hir for a couple hours. He was immensely grateful and made sure I had some time to rest to make up for it later. We don’t keep score, per se, we’ve just been practicing listening a lot more.
Compromise! It’s our secret sauce.
September 25, 2015
Mrs. Crackin’ the Whip and I are in agreement. Shopping for certain things – bras, underwear, swimsuits and jeans – are a special kind of hell. In my case, shopping for anything I have to wear is hell.
My preferred shopping MO is pretty direct: Need a thing? Buy that thing, on sale, with a coupon. Leave.
And that’s when I was young and foolish, brimming full of can-do enthusiasm. These days, I’m not willing to waste even a single drop of energy, much less the full tank needed to go to the store. Oh how I wish I were like a gas tank that could be refilled with a swipe of the credit card. Fill up on Number Me, please, and a spare jug to go!
A normal day is full of getting up, working, taking care of Inchworm, working, more Inchworm, eating, cleaning, and oh yes, working. Who has juice left for the full expedition that is shopping? Not I, said the perpetually-exhausted-even-before-a-kid-working-mom.
Going out means getting dressed, packing up (with the kiddo) in that narrow time we have between naps, driving to a store, navigating the parking, getting ourselves into the store, picking out non-hideous things and then trying it on. Getting dressed wipes me out, then you want my precious brain cells to think about whether something fits? NOPE. Ain’t happening.
As much as being an entirely minimalist live off the land type sounds appealing in theory (kinda) (except I still want running water and indoor plumbing and The West Wing and a washer/dryer), that’s not even remotely likely so the Internet and the online shopping it makes possible is the best answer this millennium has coughed up in the fight against chronic pain and fatigue.
As a chronic slippery slope personality, I make it work for my budget, not against it:
- I am ruthless about returning anything that’s not perfect. “Just ok” is not good enough. There’s no room and no budget for mediocrity!
- Free shipping/returns do not influence my “this is reasonable price point”
- Never click Purchase immediately after filling my cart. Since it’s online, I don’t feel the pressure of Buy it or Get Out Of The Darn Store NOW. There is artificial pressure: “sale ends soon!” or “limited to items in stock!” but there’s always another sale and I never need anything so badly that it has to be THAT ONE RIGHT NOW. Uh, except for the one time.
- CASHBACK (Mr. Rebates), CASHBACK (ebates), CASHBACK (credit card rewards).
Secondhand (hi, Craigslist!) is amazing for almost everything but not for clothes since my size has only recently been more normal and even that’s rarely ever in-store so the only reason to leave the house to shop is the free food samples at Costco or Trader Joe’s. Just as well. I have a theory that the more I’m exposed to the crappier side of human nature between work and shopping malls, the more likely it is I’ll explode, messily, and without warning.
Honestly, my online shopping habit is saving lives here. You’re welcome.
What’s your poison? Can you shop at thrift stores and is it as amazing as I imagine it to be? (Vintage! Designer! Well constructed! All for $5.99!)
September 23, 2015
Optimistically I hatched an almost plan to celebrate the whole month, like some of my friends who love life do. Just an “almost plan”, because that thought was as far as I got. In part to make up for my lack of enthusiasm in previous years, and in part to add to my new habit of doing small good money things each day.
It’s been half a decade since I felt comfortable with my birthday and it was nothing to do with age. For a few years, in my 20s, it was actually even fun. I shared the week with a dearly departed uncle. Then one year, he fell ill. It seemed like a small thing, until it wasn’t. I hoped, and hoped, and hoped that we’d have a miracle. But we didn’t. Then our birthweek became the week of losing him. And it’s just never felt right since.
Even when I’m not fully cognizant of the reason, a malaise sets in around 2-3 weeks before the actual day and I spend that whole time trying to convince PiC to cancel everything, when “everything” is hardly any more taxing than having dinner because I can’t think of my birthday with joy without being reminded of our joke that I was “4 days older than Uncle”, and it feels like my breath is sucked away as I remember he’s gone and it’s not fair.
We weren’t close close, not talk on the phone every other day and finish each other’s sentence close. But we were kindred spirits. I admired and respected the hell out of him and he recognized me as one of his sort, seeking my back-up in faux-arguments and treating me with an easy warm fondness unique to him. Above all, he was a good man who’d made good for his family and I wanted nothing more than to match his example.
That’s my whole trouble with anniversaries and special dates. The big ones tend to remind me of those I’ve lost, more than anything, and I haven’t been great at turning that around.
But each year I try again. We’re only given so much time and I’m trying not to waste what we have by forgetting to live while mourning, grieving rather than remembering.
There’s a lot more I want to do and each birthday is a reminder to get off my duff and do it.
I don’t usually ask for anything for my birthday but this year I will: would you share a fond memory or a fun thing you’re doing?
September 21, 2015
and featuring a Bonus Thought: Sometimes you don’t!
A friend of mine shared a listsicle signature line which made me chuckle. It’s supposed to be sarcastic reasons you don’t need life insurance because haha of course you do. It just makes a strong case for calling it When You Die Insurance because calling it LIFE insurance seems to confuse everyone, including the people who sell it.
Instead of being that know it all who tells someone their signature line sucks, I decided to be an adult and just blog about it. ;D
Six reasons you don’t need life (When You Die) insurance:
(According to the agent)
1. You are never going to die.
Ha ha ha … see that’s funny because it’s insurance for when you die. So you don’t need it if you’re not going to die! Get it?
The implication is probably that you’re going to keep working for the rest of eternity. But if you do die, I mean when you die, you don’t get to take this money with you. It stays here. Just sayin’.
2. You are going to inherit a fortune.
Inheriting a fortune is awesome and if you don’t blow it all, yes, that could replace your When You Die insurance. Let’s keep in mind this is not a good life financing plan because someone still has to die first and that’s just suspect as all get out.
3. You are going to win the lottery.
That’d also be awesome. If you win and don’t blow it all in a year, it’s possible this could be your When You Die insurance.
4. Your children are going to support you.
In death? Is this for zombies? Is this undead insurance for zombies? Hint: Life insurance isn’t for your daily expenses.
5. You are never going to retire.
Does an insurance for When You Die help with retirement? Again, if you have to be dead to collect, it’s not much good to you when you’re alive, you’re working or not. Life tip: Life insurance isn’t your retirement savings!
6. The government will take care of you.
Again, in death? What care do you need after you’re dead and buried / cremated / scattered at sea?
REAL reasons you need life insurance:
- You have minor or elderly dependents who would struggle with one-time or ongoing expenses upon your death, or pets who would need a home and/or require care.
- You have debt that would fall to your survivors to pay without your income: a cosigned mortgage, cosigned student loans, etc.
- You intended to support someone’s major life change like buying a home or though college, whether it’s your own child, that of your spouse’s, or even another relative.
- And your savings won’t cover any or all of the above options that apply to you.
Final answer: When You Die insurance is to cover your debt obligations and to help the living that you left behind, if they need it and you don’t have enough assets saved to cover it.
Therefore, another truth: You may not need life insurance!
If you’re single, have zero dependents whether of the 2 or 4-legged variety, no debt, and don’t intend to pick up any of these things ever? Or you’re married, no dependents, no debt, and the surviving spouse has a good career? Or you have any of those obligations but you have a LOT of savings? Then you don’t need life insurance! Imagine that. Leigh and Linda can attest to that.
At a certain point, if we grow our assets appropriately, we won’t need our life insurance to cover our debt and support LB and Seamus in the event that we both disappear from their lives and deprive them of our incomes. That’s all it is: a guaranteed income replacement for a limited period of time.
But your local life insurance agent would rather you didn’t think that.
September 18, 2015
If you’d asked me, I would not have believed that we’d unload any of the stuff clogging up our closets and nooks and crannies. It’s perfectly good stuff but none of it is that high-end, high-value stuff that Personal Finance for Beginners exhort you to sell to make some Quick Cash!
This is one money-related bet I would have lost.
All of this sold like it was in high demand:
- Miscellaneous bike gear
- Random auto parts
- Used shoes
- My old rainboots that never quite fit
- My old but in near-new condition sports watch (btw, this was a surprise sale. Maybe a general rule should be to TELL your spouse before you sell stuff out from under them!)
- Still in the box, old navigation system. Ah useless technology gifts.
PiC is the Craigslister in the family. I just collect the proceeds, log them into Mint, for which he calls me Judy Jetson (Please tell me you remember The Jetsons
). Harumph! Oh, and also I provide the free service of fretting uselessly while he’s out, every time, as if all Craigslist buyers are serial killers on the hunt for their next hit.
… What? That’s not normal?
ANYWAY. He once walked me through some of his tips and tricks. I’ve never used them because this is his gig and he’s great at it but it’s good stuff nonetheless.
Writing your ad
- Be very clear in your description of the Thing and Thing’s condition. Don’t assume people have seen the Thing before or that they can view the pictures easily.
- Include some pictures taken in good light.
- Include dimensions or sizing if that’s relevant or useful. It’s always useful for furniture items. Not so much for books.
- If you’re open to offers, say so. If the price is firm, say so. Don’t waste your time with hagglers if you’re not willing to move on price and don’t lose opportunities to unload the Thing if you’re willing to accept an offer.
- Always refresh expired ads, a lot of selling is about the timing. Buyers for Thing may pop up 4 weeks after you list the first time, or in one case, 11 months.
- Always state in the ad: Thing is available if this ad is still posted. Remove ad immediately after a confirmed sale.
Making the sale
- We ignore all stupid inquiries: “Is it still available?” for one. “Does the $20 printer come with ink cartridges?” for another. Historically, those inquiries never bear fruit.
- CL buyers in our area are notoriously flaky. Never promise to hold an item for anyone. It’s always first come, first serve, unless it’s a very big ticket item and you’ve already met, haggled and agreed on a price.
- Safety, safety, safety! Please meet in a public place. Don’t do it in the dark if you can avoid that. The one time PiC did a sale after sundown I insisted on dragging my super-pregnant self along to protect him because that made sense.
- If it requires two people to lift and move, make sure you know if your buyer is going to handle that themselves (some bring a friend), or if they expect you to lend a hand (some will ask).
As regular Craigslist buyers ourselves, we do our best to be a positive part of the ecosystem by only making inquiries when we’re serious, paying in cash (duh!), arranging our own pickup, and of course, if the price isn’t firm, we do haggle! Obviously.
It really can be as easy as posting an ad, fielding calls or emails, and then pocketing some hard cash for things you don’t use anymore! Or won’t use, ever. As always, I record our sales in our tracker here so y’all know, it’s possible to make real money even if you have really weird old stuff.
September 16, 2015
Inchworm is trying so hard to crawl but hates it so much. Ze wants to walk and walk NOW. One day, ze learned to hold out hir arms to us and hasn’t stopped since. We won’t pick hir up on demand every time, though, we don’t walk hir muscles to atrophy!
Often you can’t walk past without hir grabbing your ankle with both arms in order to use you as leverage. Hir balance still sucks though, so there have been more than a few faceplant scenarios followed up by earsplitting shrieks of pain. Nothing serious, just actual pain versus the usual surprise cry.
***
This child has zero sense of self preservation. Ze will launch out of PiC’s arms, flip off the edge of the bed like a flying squirrel without flight capabilities, throw head and arms backwards into a backbend whether on the ground or on someone’s lap with no regard for the likelihood of a concussion or a broken head.
***
We’re doing all kinds of solid and pureed foods so “hack it up, clear your throat” has become a daily part of our vocabulary.
***
I don’t have time to read to LB as often as I’d like so I make it a point to talk hir through anything I’m doing whether it’s prepping hir next meal or explaining my work. Lots of history-of, why-we-do-things-this-way, it’s-important-because conversations. Ze thinks the formal stuff is the funniest.
***
Ze has lint contraband. I found it in hir leg folds in the first weeks of baths. After a few weeks of confiscation they were mysteriously clean and then I found it’d shifted to hir knees, then later still, in hir armpits. The latest stash zone is under the chin in the neck.
***
Sleep has always been weird. We’d have (3) 30-minute nap days and those were terrible. We’d have (2) mega long nap days and they were wonderful (but confusing. what did we do right?).
Ze has never slept through the night more than 2 nights in a row except for during SDCC. And mostly never sleeps through the night. We’d go from getting 8 straight hours to only 4 and 3, or 6 and 2. Or some weird combination in such a way as to guarantee we’d both be zombies.
There are days ze gets a 3rd nap just because the two were so stinking short ze would wake up still tired.
Basically our whole life is one giant sleep regression. Which, I guess, is good because we basically never get used to the good life of sleeping through? We’ve stopped worrying, fussing, or trying that hard to influence the sleep. We just stick to a routine for bedtime, and time the naps for a sleepy baby as best we can.
***
It shouldn’t, but this Washington Post article saying that parenthood is worse than any other life event including the death of a partner elicited a rueful chuckle. That could still come to pass, it was one of my terrors about becoming a parent, and I have seen where some experiences were hard enough that the parents declared No More after the first. I think PiC is actually in that camp after being so very worried about me during labor. And also we had a tough pregnancy. It’s hard to imagine how we could do that again but this time with a toddler running around needing attention too, especially as we still haven’t found good, reliable help.
***
*snorgle snargle* Now that ze has figured out crawling, climbing on things, and grabbing in a semi-intentional, sorta-accurate fashion, we’re all in trouble. Ze has a special Attack Face, a combination of a grin and a scrunched brow, maw stretched wide open, as ze prepares to destroy electronics in reach so I know to defend against baby drool within five seconds of The Face.
LB’s tweets
I hear paper tearing. I look up to see LB on hir back, huge chunk of newspaper in left hand, strip in right hand, huge sheet in mouth.
PiC: “I think ze might have eaten some newspaper. That didn’t taste good, did it?” LB shakes hir head really hard, no. Then jabs PiC in the eye.
LB is mild to moderate good at self directed play. Ze is a Master at grabbing everything ze isn’t allowed to.
Seamus is a little pissed. LB tried to snake his hedgie but he’s not allowed to steal Grey Wind.
Woke up to LB chirping to Seamus and playing w/Elly, hir crib companion. Possibly ze was plotting to take over the world.
LB vs the world
Stop screeching, I’m changing your diaper. This is a feature, not a bug.
Please don’t lick your brother.
Please stop eating the ground. And the recyclables. Ok fine, chew on your foot. Enjoy the flexibility.
How did you get fur up your nose?
We love …. cheap entertainment!
These interlocking rings. I’ve strung them across hir chair, down from dresser drawer handles, on hir stroller, anywhere I need hir to stay put for a little while so I can do things. Ze loves to chew on them, pull them apart, and just wave them around. Also good for securing toys into the stroller when ze loses interest and drops it.
Earlier…
Month 6: Becoming human
Month 5: Toes
Month 4: Velociraptor Claws
Month 3: Growth Spurts
Month 2: Hates sleep
Month 1: Banshee
September 14, 2015
Linda made a good point about how some landlords, slumlords, use their rental properties to generate tax losses to offset their gains in other areas of their net worth.
Call me foolish but I’m not ok with that idea. Even if I’m going to have to pay more in taxes each year because I’m showing a profit on paper, I’d rather find some other way to even out that tax bill than to let my property where actual humans live go to shambles. I’ve been on the other end of that stick and it sucks.
Even though some of the rundown at the other house is due to Dad’s inability to keep up with all the house maintenance, a lot of it is long term stuff that the owner of the property should be tending.
Chatting to a long time homeowner friend, she’d expect most of the wear and tear to be paid for by the homeowner / LL: carpet, paint, drapery. That was an interesting thought. While I’m willing to budget for it, as a renter, we never had a refresh or cleaning of anything of these things that we didn’t pay for under normal wear and tear. We’re not going to vacuum for the renter but we will do a carpet cleaning between renters and replace it if need be in say, 20 years? That’s the normal life span of good carpet, I think.
I provide and maintain all the major appliances, which isn’t actually a normal thing in my experience renting in California, but it is for the rental area. Would you also expect that other stuff as well?
My current plan is to save all the income from at least the first five years to pay for expected major repairs and unexpected anything else that’s not covered by the warranty.