Random Updates

Today I'm going to visit my mom. She really wants to convince my father to sell the house that they can no longer (couldn't ever, really) afford and move to a small bungalow, before the bank makes them do it.

So I am going over laden with boxes, to help her start packing. They have a TON of junk in the basement, and when they do eventually move (either voluntarily or by force), I want most of their stuff to already be packed so they don't have more stress on top of everything else.

I basically told my mom that I think she should just take charge. She should call a realtor, tell him she's selling the house, and just do what she needs to do, regardless of what my father thinks/says/does. Whenever I talk to my mom, she dwells so much on her regrets. The other day we came to the conclusion that most of the things she regrets are not things she did, but  rather things that she allowed my father to do. Things she just went along with, because he wouldn't listen to her. I told her that she can't go back, she can only go forward, so she needs to make sure that she doesn't just agree to stay in the house and let the bank take it, even when she knows that's the wrong thing to do. She needs to take control, and I'm going to help her.

In other news, the father has finally decided that this whole get-rich quick pyramid scheme he's involved in is not working out as he'd hoped.

 He has finally decided to look into going back to school. Since he was in the auto industry, there is a government program that will pay for his schooling and living expenses so that he can re-train. He loathes the idea, but finally realizes that he has no other choice. I am very happy about this. An education is worth so much. If someone offered me a free education I'd jump for joy. I think he's secretly afraid to fail. And it must be embarassing starting completely over at the age of 51. But hey, if he'd finished his degree back when he was in his 20s, he wouldn't be faced with this now. All choices eventually catch up with you.

On to me. I have been applying for jobs every day. Someone asked awhile back what type of work I was looking for. I'm looking for any job related to the human services field. These include (in the order in which I want them):
-Career counselor
-Student services counselor (at a college)
-Recreation co-ordinator (at a community centre)
-Early Childhood Educator (day care, preschool or before and after school program)

These are the types of jobs that I have mostly applied for. I guess because of the recession, there have been a LOT of posting for career counselor type positions, but so far I haven't even been called for an interview.  There have also been a decent amount of postings for the other jobs I've listed. I hope something turns up between now and next fall. Otherwise we'll really have a problem.

As for Our Sweet Baboo, he is doing wonderfully. Allow me to take a second to shamelessly brag about all the adorable things he does:
 He takes my or the Hubbs' keys and goes over to the front door and tries to open it.
He can say Mama, Dada, Night-night, and Banana.
When you say "Yay!" he claps.
When you say "How big is Baboo?" He raises his hands in the air while one of us says "soooo big."
He takes his toothbrush and tries to brush his own teeth.
He takes a brush and tries to brush his own hair.
He can identify his hair, his feet, and his teeth.
He knows when his diaper is getting uncomfortable and will do the sign for diaper, and bring us a new one.

Now on to some of his more frustrating habits:
He insists upon closing the door to his bedroom while he's inside, and then cries because he can't get out.
He persists in taking off my glasses and throwing them across the room.
He refuses to wear a hat outside.
He will not TOUCH a vegetable. Well, that's not true. He'll take a bite, make a face, and then throw it on the floor. Sigh.
He flat out refuses to be weaned. He has stopped taking a bottle altogether and it is driving me bananas.
Everyone says he is the busiest, most active baby they're ever seen.
He wants to get out of his stroller and run around in public, but he refuses to hold our hands, making that impossible.

The Hubbs: He's on the Dean's List again for the summer semester! Woohoo! I am so proud of him :D He is a smart, sexy stud.
I also envy him. While I am SO GLAD that I am finally done school, being a student came with a certain lack of pressure. I could work at a dead-end job in a clothing store or a coffee shop without shame, because this wasn't what I was really doing with my life--I was a student. But now that I'm done, there is a lot of pressure. I need to find a job, and I really, really want it to be at least tangentially related to my field of study. I absolutely MUST have something by next fall. If I haven't found a job that is on the list above by spring, then I am just going to start applying for any job around. It would suck, but I know that I need to find work, and of course I can always keep looking for something in my field while working in retail (barf--no offense to anyone who does this, it's just not for me) or at Starbucks. At least the free coffee would be appealing, and I've heard their benefits are great.

On the downside, I'd have to learn all that fancy coffee speak :/

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Meet the Thriftys (Part 1)

I've been thinking a lot about money. We don't have much (as a student and a recent graduate looking for a job, things are tight). But I want to do the best we can with what we have. I recently read the really short and simplistic book, How to Get Rich without Winning the Lottery. Like I said, the book was very simple, but it did help me change the way I think about certain things. The atuthor is of the impression that wealth means not having to work. His basic idea is that people should invest their money in a fairly high yield fund, get large returns over 20 or so years, and then retire early and live off their investments until the age of 65 when social security kicks in. I'm not of the same mind. First of all, his method assumes that people want to maintain the same lifestyle forever. So if someone makes $19 000 a year, that's what they should be living off forever in order for his plan to work. He also doesn't factor in the idea that one could lose their investments (the higher yield, the riskier they are) or that the government is saying that social security might not always be there. I also want to work. I want to have a career, so not having a job is not a goal of mine. Nonetheless, it still had some good principles.

The main thing I took away from the book is that no matter how little you have, you should always be investing or saving something. If it is absolutely impossible to live off a penny less than what you are making, then you should simply make more money. The book includes a brain storming session on how to do this, most of which include starting up a side business, getting a part time job, or working over time. I was inspired by this, so I called my church and asked them if I could get back on staff as a member of the child care team. I will only be working a few hours one day a week, but I can use that money to save and then eventually invest.

I've also come up with a meal plan. People always say one of the best ways to save money is to plan your meals, so I decided to give it a shot. Honestly, I hated it. It was much more confusing than something that sounds so simple should be (mainly trying to figure out what amount of food would make how many servings, etc), so you know what? My family and I are going to be eating the exact same weekly menu for awhile now lol. I'm just not making one every week. I just can't. We can swap some items out, though, so we don't go insane from the monotony. For instance, we usually have chicken, but this week steak was cheaper so we bought that instead. We buy one type of meat each week in a mid-sized quantity, and we usually only have meat once a day, if that. We cut the chicken (or pork, or steak) into strips and cook it. We then separate it into different containers for different days. Tonight we're having chow mein with veggies and steak. Tomorrow we will probably have homemade pizza with pepperoni and vegetables, but the next night we will have steak fajitas, another day steak and rice, etc.

We also don't eat the exact same snacks through the week, but it follows a basic plan. We're a pretty snacky family, so we make sure we have stuff to munch on when we're out and about so that we don't get hungry and want to buy fast food. On the menu for one snack a day I have written "fruit", then when we do the shopping I simply buy whatever fruit is on sale. This week we got clemetine oranges and strawberries (which our Baboo LOVES), last week it was apples and bananas.

I'm pretty happy with this new plan. We have three meals and three snacks a day planned out, at a budget we can afford. It's very exciting.

Some Low-Budget Meal Ideas (they are simple because I don't have time to be fancy):
-Crock Pot Chilli (we make ours with ground turkey) and garlic toast
-Grilled PB&J
-Tuna Casserole
-Chow Mein
-Meatball Subs
-Breakfast for dinner
-Soup, sandwhich and salad
-Shell Noodle Lasagna
-English Muffin Pizzas
-French Bread, Cheese and Wine (with grapejuice for the kiddo)

Low Budget Snack Ideas:
-Microwave Popcorn
-Homemade cookies
-Homemade muffins
-Homemade biscuits (easiest and fastest thing to make, ever)
-Pitas with hummus
-Cheese and crackers
-fruit salad

For Kids:
-Fruit
-raisins
-granola
-cheerios
-shredded cheese
-yogurt
-applesauce
-mini bagels w/ cream cheese

Aside from food, we've decided to live on cash. We are going to take out our weekly spending money, separate it into evelopes labelled, for instance, "gas", "food", etc, and when the money runs out each week, that's it. I read that its much easier to live off cash than debit if you're sticking to a budget because your brain actually releases negative feelings associated with parting with cash. You don't get that reaction when you're just swiping a card.

So, that's the beginning of our new (even more) frugal existence. I'll keep you posted, and share a low-budget recipe or two.

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Mom and Baby Sick Kit

The kiddo is sick. His nose is runny, and all signs point to a sore throat and headache too. Poor little guy. Last time he was sick, The Hubbs and I were sick as well. We were all sick for weeks and it was terrible. This time, at the outset of the illness, I decided to put together a sick baby & mama kit, so if he takes me down with him, we'll have everything we need to get through the illness right here. There's nothing worse than having to schlep your delirious self to the store and try to decipher which remedies will help you feel better when you feel so bad you can barely stand. Without further ado, the kit:

California Baby Cold & Flu Decongesting Bubble Bath (13.99).: All natural and safe for you and baby.


Budget Alternative: Life Brand Soothing Bubble Bath contains menthol and eucalyptus to clear your sinuses.

Hydra Sense:

You put the bulb inside the baby's nose, and suck on the tube. Sounds gross, but there's a filter inside to make sure you don't get anything unsavory in your mouth. The most effective way I've found to remove baby boogies.

Portable DVD Player: Because if You're bedridden, you might as well be entertained.

Vicks Baby Rub: Will help ease baby's congestion while they sleep, and if you're into infant massage, it'll soothe any sore little muscles.

Cool Mist Humidifier:

I prefer these to the ones that emit steam, because there's less risk of accidents or injury that way. These simply release cool water droplets into the air to keep your sinuses from getting too dried out.

Del Monte Real Fruit Bars: Nothing soothes a sore throat like a delicious popsicle--especially a guilt-free (and fat free!) one made with real fruit, so it's safe to share with baby.

 

Books:

When my Sweet Baboo is sick, it's one of the only times when he'll just be mellow. To take advantage of that, I make sure to have lots of books around so I can capitalize on the extra snuggle time.

I try to skip medicating my baby, but when he has a fever, infant tylenol helps.

And some for me. Because sinus headaches are a bitch.

If the bedroom becomes boring and you need a change of scenery, a cozy throw in the living room is a must. This 100% cashmere blanket is only $99.00 from Amazon.

Budget Alternative: The super soft BLASTIS blanket from Ikea is only $9.99.

Get Well Soon!

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Best Years of My Life

I would like to talk to you about a little pet peeve of mine. Actually, it's quite possibly my number one pet peeve, and has been for over ten years. I hate it when people say that high school is the best years of your life. Hate it.

I remember being thirteen, and adults would laugh at me and tell me that these would be the best years of my life. And I would shudder, and tell them, "No way."
They'd say "Just wait. You'll see."
Well, I've waited. And I've seen. And I will tell you, as someone whose been out of my teens for 6 years now, high school was definitely not the best time of my life. Definitely not.

I was not carefree. I moved out at 17 to get away from my abusive father. I spend my pre-teen and teen years listening to my parents scream at each other for hours on end, and since I was a child I've witnessed domestic violence.

I battled debilitating depression. Depression so bad that each night I thought I would not wake up the next morning. I was in a hole so deep that I tried to cut out the darkness with a razor. I was in a hole so deep that I alternately tried eating my way out, and then starving out the pain. I was in a hole so deep that I spent a year in a pot-induced fog by day, and an alcohol induced one by night. High school for me represents despair. And I had parents who were too damaged and self-absorbed to notice.

I had parents who thought that my depression was the result of demon posession one moment, and was merely an attitude problem the next. I had parents who thought that the best way to get rid of my depression was to scream "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US?" at me. I had parents who hit me when I questioned my sexual identity, yet called me a whore the first time I kissed a boy.

High school was not the best years of my life. Not by a long shot.

When I went away to college, clear across the country, I could breathe for the first time. I had to pay bills. I had to buy food. I had to wake myself up in the morning, put myself to sleep at night, and nagivate a new city all on my own. I didn't feel trapped. I felt free. The depression my parents were never competent enough to make sure got treated? I found a doctor who helped me find the right medication, and I've been doing so much better ever since.

Wanting to kill myself is a distant memory. Being too sad to go to work is a distant memory. Living with roomates was the sweet calm I needed after living in a house full of tension and rage. Living with my husband was even better. The freedom to choose happiness, to choose to surround myself with people who are positive and loving, to define my own household and my own future has been invaluable.

I would much rather deal with the stress of having to pay the bills, than deal with what I dealt with growing up. My childhood and adolescence were birthing pains, and when I left I was born into a new life full of possibility and hope.

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My Hypothetical Son

I realize that some of you may be wondering what my son looks like. I won't post a picture of him, but what I will do is show you what the bump baby morpher thinks my son should look like. Feast your eyes on this cutie:

My favourite part is the hat. You can decide for yourselves whether my Sweet Baboo is more or less attractive than this kid. Also, why's he white?

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Keeping up with the Psychos

I know I fail as a blogger. I update this thing so sporadically that I'd be surprised if any of you are still with me. This is partially due to the fact that my life is crazy (whose isn't?) and partially due to the fact that once something becomes a chore that I have to do, I lose interest.
So when I tell myself "I really should blog", then I instantly do not want to.

Another thing is, this blog is a place for me to go through and sort out my thoughts. On days when I got for long walks with my Sweet Baboo, I sort my thoughts out while wandering through the nature conservation, so when I get back to the computer my thoughts are all sorted out. I blog in my head, if you want to know the truth.

Anyway, now that we've established the fact that I'm lazy and weird, we'll move on.

Right now I am feeling the pressure. I'm feeling the pressure of looking for a job, even though it is not imperative that I find one until next September--over a year from now.

I'm feeling the pressure of having parents who are really struggling, and having other relatives who seem to think that it's my responsibility to somehow pick up the pieces of their lives. And I just. can't. do it.
I have a VERY active son, our family has one car that The Hubbs usually has with him, I live two towns away from my mother. I cannot be over there every other day. Gas is expensive. I don't have the time, I don't have the energy, and even if I did, the house isn't the best place for my kiddo, to tell you the truth.

It's not baby proofed at all. I spend the entire time chasing him around, pulling him out of dangerous cabinets and stopping him from toppling over glass vases. My parents' house is that irritating open-concept, so the doorways to rooms are gaping and there's no way I baby gate could block it. Even the entrance to the stairs is that way--my kid is constantly booking it up the stairs, full of glee, while we huff and puff after him and try to stop him from falling down head first. The stairwell is to wide for a gate.

Those aren't the only problems, though. I hate to say this, it shames me to my core, but I just don't enjoy my mother's company any more. I would hate for her to find that out. I love her very much, and of course I always will, but she is just so down all the time.

Of course she's down. She's really sick, she's financially strapped and married to a husband who is working his BUTT off. But the problem isn't that he's working his butt off, the problem is that he's working his butt off at a pyramid scheme that is just not paying out what he's been promised. He is too stubborn and prideful to stop, but in the meantime they've missed a mortgage payment, his old job suffered massive cuts due to the collapse of the auto industry, and he is not making ends meet.

This stresses me out beyond belief. I can only imagine how stressed out my mom is. She's way too sick to work and wants so desperately to get better so she can find a job and dig them out of this rut. I feel for her. I really do. I just don't know how to help her, and that makes me feel panicky and guilty and useless all at once. I hate all of it.

And I blame my father. The worst thing about going over there is when he randomly pops home between "appointments." I just don't like him. He's not a nice guy, he abused us all for years, and though he promises he's changed, I simply don't believe him. Even my kid doesn't like him. The Hubbs says its because Baboo can tell he's a phony.

I don't just blame him because he's not the best guy. I blame him because it's his fault. It truly is. He's the one who took his package from the car company because he thought he "might" get laid off. He's the one who passed up the chance for the government to pay for him to retrain for a new career because he didn't want to go back to school. He's the one who thought a multi-level marketing scheme would be a better way to make a living, because he bought into the lie of "owning his own company" and "being his own boss." He's the one who turned down the perfectly nice, older, smaller (read: cheaper) home that my mom wanted to buy, in exchange for the rambling, mini-mansion that they bought but couldn't afford.

He's the one who added a bunch of extras onto his parting "gift" from the car company, so that the huge, gas-guzzling SUV turned out to cost $15, 000 rather than be free.

Oh yes. All of these things are his responsibility. And he is the one who is STILL paying off the *free* car, so now he can't even sell it to pay for his bills, because he technically doesn't even own it!

Yes, I am bitter. Oh, so bitter. Bitter that my poor, sweet, sick mother has to deal with this. Bitter because they say her illness is a cause of change of life hormones + STRESS (Read: Financial instability! Crappy marriage!)

I have to remind myself, though, that my mother is not totally innocent here either. He's been terrible with money since they married, and she has stayed with him. He has been controlling and abusive since they married, and she's stayed with him. Even when, as a 12 year old, I begged her to leave and take me with her. She was too scared to start over, so she stayed. And now she's screwed and stressed. And she's so sick, FROM STRESS, that she couldn't leave now even if she wanted to. Kind of a catch-22, huh?

My husband is crazed writing exams, and I have family members calling me and asking me to pony up dosh for my mom's medication. Umm, my husband's a student and I'm a stay at home mom.

We live in a tiny apartment down the street from a crack den (Okay, maybe I'm not sure about the crack den, but it's certainly possible. This place is a hole). We rely on our baby bonus to our bills. We drive a car that is older than we are.

Where do people imagine that I have all of this extra money? And I know it's sad to say, and sounds horrible, but honestly, my parents' situation is my parents' fault. Which kind of makes it their problem. I want my mom to be able to afford her medication. I want them to make their mortgage payments and be able to eat. I do. But honestly?

Our community centre gives away free grocery bags of fresh produce on Mondays, and I've been. I've taken the walk of shame and filled a bag with tomatoes, pineapple and grapes because we are poor and we could use the help. We don't have cable. We only have internet because my husband needs it for school, and I need it to look for work. We never go out. And we are both willing to make the time and sacrifice necessary to go to school and better our lives so that we can make a better life for our son.

My parents drive a brand new truck. My parents live in a giant house. My parents have gorgeous leather furniture and a really nice, NEW dining room table that they had to get because it is such a good deal ($400!? When they have no steady income!?). Their bedroom furniture costs a couple grand.

Our furniture is a travesty. Our couch is 25 years old and it is the couch my sister was BORN on. It's been cleaned since then, but still. Our other couch is a futon with a broken spring so your butt sinks down when you sit on the left of it. Our coffee and kitchen tables are from Ikea. Our computer desk was a hand-me down and the desk in our kitchen was pulled out of someone's trash. Our mattress is duck taped together.

My parents have cable. So why is it that it should be my responsibility to drive my 20 year old car over to their giant house, and hand over any of the limited money we've scrimped to save, so that they can pay for things that they would easily be able to afford if their entire lives didn't revolve around image? If they had bought the small house (hello, they're empty-nesters). If they had bought an older car. If they had NOT quit their jobs without having steady income lined up? If they had not counted on receiving an accident settlement that, after five years, still has yet to materialise?

I'm frustrated and sad, but I don't know what I can do. Trying to keep my own little family afloat is difficult enough. If they lose their home, if they end up having to move into subsidized housing for awhile, or apply for social assistance, maybe that will be their rock bottom. Maybe they need to hit rock bottom in order to realize that they can't go on like this.

This may sound callous, but I am so grateful, so grateful that The Hubbs and I seem to have hit our rock bottom the year that I was pregnant with Baboo. I'm grateful that we are both only 25, but we've learned the lessons that my parents only now seem to be learning. And as bad as this sounds, I'm grateful for their example because I've learned from their mistakes. When we purchase our first home (we calculate we should be able to in 4-5 years), I will put in a little bachelorette suite for my mom and she can come live with us.

As for my father? Heaven help him. I hope he will become a better guy. I hope this crisis will be a catalyst for change. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I have hope. It might be small and it might burn out completely from time to time, but its there.

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Working mom?

I have started looking for a job.

Before I had kids, I couldn't imagine leaving them to go to work until they were in school. I thought it would be incredibly difficult and not something at all that I wanted to do. When my Sweet Baboo was born, I thought I'd stay home until he was three. As the first year went by, I thought, maybe two. Not that I wanted to leave him, but I worked hard for my degree and I don't want it to become obselete because I got it, then stayed home for several years, thus not keeping up to date in my field. My son turns one in less than two weeks, and I am looking for a job.

The main reason for this is the economy. I may not want to go back to work for another year, but if I start looking in a year, it could be another year, or even two, before I find anything. That would just be no good. The idea that I could be back in the workforce, with my kid in day care in a matter of weeks terrifies and exhilirates me. I love my kid (as all moms do), but honestly, I'm getting bored. I really think he could use more interaction than a few play groups can provide, and I could use some adult friends to spend my days with.

Also, I'm not going to lie to you, I am so over being poor. So over it. I am so over living across the hall from the Trashertons: A woman, her ex husband, her current boyfriend, and their assortment of children. You can just imagine the drama that emanates from that apartment. I don't want to deal with it, and I don't want my son to have to deal with it as he gets more aware. I am over this neighbourhood. I'm over the gang signs everywhere, being afraid when The Hubbs has a late class, the fact that none of the schools around here have playgrounds and there are signs on power poles advertising support groups for prostitutes. Over it. So over it. If we end up living here when Baboo starts school, I don't know what I will do. We need to get out of this school district and away from these people.

I want to move. We can't afford that unless I get a job. I don't need a big house, expensive cars, a designer wardrobe, or any of that. But I would like a house. Any house. Preferably in a neighbourhood that gangs haven't claimed and where I can walk down the street with my camera around my neck without fear of getting mugged. I'd like to live in a neighbourhood where I can take my son to a school playground that is more than just a plot of grass and a slab of pavement littered with broken glass.

I want my family to be safe, happy, and at peace. I'm aware that it might take a long time to find a job. Just the thought of how long some of my acquaintances have been looking for work almost makes me want to admit defeat before I even get started. It's funny how anxious just the act of sending out resumes and writing cover letters makes me. It's almost as if I've already forgotten that my goal is to have a job somewhere between now and a year from now, that it's not an absolute emergency. I just need to chill. Chill and have faith. It will all work out.

It always does.

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