For Richer For Poorer

Emphasis on the for poorer part. When the Man and I made a commitment to put up with each other for the rest of our lives, we knew that our finances would present a rather looming obstacle. Coming from a single-parent home, the Man had to depend on Sallie Mae to fund his entire college career (eight semesters at a private college - you do the math). Add my lack of self-control to all things Starbucks and Target, I racked up quite a bit of credit card debt fresh out of college. Together, we were platinum members to every bank, credit union, and loan company in existence. Two weeks before we tied the knot, the Man introduced me to a new friend of his:

(For those of you who only know his voice and not his face, that's Dave Ramsey. Kinda handsome, no?) The Man purchased "The Total Money Makeover," which I read cover to cover in one afternoon, and since we've hit the ground running. For the first time in both of our lives, we feel as though we've taken control of our money. We saved our small emergency fund, have been attacking our debt snowball, and are living off of a strict "rice and beans" budget. And I mean strict. People are shocked to hear that the Man and I have been living on a $80/month grocery budget. We've had to make a lot of sacrifices, but we've never gone hungry (thanks in part to my handy dandy crock pot). I haven't bought new clothes since Easter, and even then I used gift cards. We haven't been to movie together since before we were married. Our (free) TV is from circa 1995 and weighs as much as our truck. We don't even try to date our (free)mattresses. I've sold my brand new racing bike, the Man is selling his motorcycle, and we're seriously considering selling one or two of our guitars.

Even though we're slowly making progress, we're nowhere near where we'd like to be. We've managed to pay off several credit cards, but we've got a LONG way to go in terms of school loans. It's proven difficult to live frugally when our combined income is less than what most people make individually. BUT, we're trusting the Lord will provide and He has already blessed our stewardship tenfold. Plus, our budget is an excuse for me to eat chocolate chip pancakes for dinner four nights in a row. Always the optimist, I am.

25 is the new...25?

25 years ago today my poor mother waited patiently for my dad to finish his softball game at church so that she could give birth to her second child. To this day I contribute my competitiveness to my father -- we don't leave a game unfinished, contractions or no contractions. I'm sure his team won, too.

Other than being able to rent a car without ridiculous fees, turning 25 doesn't carry much glitz or glamour. Except that now I feel like a legitimate adult. (Legitimate adult. Ha. If you consider eating Dairy Queen for dinner something a legitimate adult would do, then ok.)

The Man has taken every opportunity to remind me of my age, and I can't blame him really. He's a young, hot, muscular man who works in security and I'm the mature, poised, older woman who works in the office. What can I say? In his words, I'm a cougar. (Although a 14 month age difference hardly constitutes a cougar in my opinion. I may be a wanna-be Jew by marriage, but I'm no Demi Moore.)

25.

Does anyone know if prune juice is on sale at The Jewel?

Free Time?

My mom and I have a saying that whenever we get bored, we get dangerous. Give us a bit of free time and we'll probably end up getting into trouble one way or another -- like almost burning the house down last Saturday. (FYI, placing a cardboard shoebox filled with old checks and tax documents onto a bonfire two feet away from a wood-framed house is not the best idea in the world.)

To my dismay, I have discovered that the Man has the same destructive tendencies as we do when left alone. Since he has started working at Olivet, he has had more time off then he knows what to do with. And since he continually strives to be Mr. Impressive, he uses the extra time to help out around the house. And by "help," I mean destroy. Monday night I came home from work to find him knee deep in books and documents in the second bedroom. Yesterday I came home to find the entire bedroom rearranged and flipped upside down (literally, in the case of the recliner). Lord only knows what else he is going to do, but let's just hope he doesn't jeopradize our security deposit.

Humble Beginnings

Once a year my mother goes through what I call a "fit of ruthlessness" where she decides to purge her house of unnecessary nick knacks, documents, food, and people (glad you made the cut, Dad). Recently, she has had each of her kids go through the boxes and bins of various keepsakes and throw out whatever doesn't fit into one Rubbermaid container. Saturday was my turn. While rifling through the many Sunday school art projects, homemade jewelry, Read It! buttons, report cards, and Mickey Mouse ears, I found the greatest treasure of all: my daily journal from 1st grade. Decked out in typical 90's colors (aqua and purple) and covered in puffy stickers ("U-R Great!"), this torn up and worn out Stuart Hall notebook was the threshold of my writing career.

Before I shamelessly share some of the highlights, let it be known that I graduated magna cum laude with a bachelor's in English and Literature. I studied literature theory and writing at Oxford University. All of my reading/language/writing standardized test scores from 1st grade through high school exceeded the national average. I'm not saying this to toot my own horn; it simply adds to the irony. And so, with no further ado, I present my humble beginnings. Enjoy. (Translations are provided as necessary.)

August 27th, 1991 - First Day of School
I was nrfis. (Sound it out.)

September 26th, 1991 - National Milk Day
milk com's frm a cow and milk is good for you. you dan't haf to drrek milk bcos you can get it in a ic cren and yogt. (I wish I could include my sketch of a cow. Apparently, cows have fangs.)

September 27th, 1991 - What's Your Favorite Cereal?
I like crel.
I like difft kos of crel like loke crms and coco pofs and froody peps.
(sketch of coco "pofs" box)
and I like bred.

October 3rd, 1991 - Your Guess is as Good as Mine
Super.
wric I love it.
It is wody it it is grt!
the doy

October 21-22nd, 1991 - Astronomy Lesson
The moon vrbat arwd the Earlh.
if The Sun did not shone Thn tre will Be no anmos and no Peplle.
The Etahe revolves orde the Sun and the moon go's orade the ethe.
the end.
(Look out, Copernicus!)

December 11, 1991 - Favorite Snow Activity
This is how to buld a snowman.
You maek it of snow.
the end.

January 6th, 1992 - New Year's Resolution
My resolution is to do bedr wrck.
(Ambitious, no?)

March 4th, 1992 - What is Your Favorite Food?
I always have a spgetti. oh no i'm gitting so sqcedtti attac. ah ahah!

April 1st, 1992 - April Fool's!
I like to trik peple on April Fool's.
I like to say what's that on yor shet. I like to say whay do may florrws bring, too.

May 13th, 1992 - Death Day?
My plat died saterday. but I have a new one that is alive.
ahadabird that died.

So you see, God always seems to find a way to keep me humble. Honestly, we got a huge kick out of reading this and I hope you did, too. If you ever get a chance to retrace your childhood, do it. You never know what you'll find.

P.S. I made the mistake of hitting Spellcheck. Jeez o Pete....

Math Lesson

If your husband drinks a 5 Hour Energy shot 3 hours before bed, how much time will he spend singing MTV's Top 100 Songs from the 90's?



Your sympathy is appreciated.

Back on Track

My apologies to the tens of people who read my blog (read: mom, her coworkers, and my dad) for not updating as regularly as I should. But really, when I'm busy cruising around here:

Can you really blame me? Since Olivet doesn't believe in giving their employees the day off on Labor Day, they graciously give us Columbus Day. And since I'm always on the lookout for mini-vacations, I decided to visit my friend Megan in Palo Alto, California for a few days.

Unfortunately I cannot brag that it was 80 degrees and sunny seeing as we wore sweatshirts and jeans to the beach, but I was on the beach nonetheless! I had forgotten how much I love mountains (though not necessarily driving through them) and was reminded of Illinois' lack of topography. 'Twas good to see an old friend, but I went through some serious Man-withdrawal.

How could I not miss this face?

While I was gone, he started his new job at Olivet and I cannot begin to express our excitement! He no longer has to get up at 5am for his 45 minute commute, which means that I no longer have to get up at 5:09am because he forgot to turn off his alarm. Everybody wins! We are stepping out in faith financially (everyone at Olivet can relate) but with an extra $200 a month saved in gas alone, I think Dave Ramsey would be proud. We're still praying for God's guidance as the Man continues to test for a police officer position, but at least he's closer to home in the meantime. Not to mention the fact that he wears a uniform. (Amen?)

So don't worry mom, I'm back in office safe & sound and you can tell grandma that I made sure Billy wore clean underpants on his first day.

All the Small Things

...true care, truth brings. (Oh Blink-182, how I miss your three power chords and two minute songs. Thank you for single handedly providing the soundtrack to my high school career.)

When bragging about their husbands, most newlyweds around here go on and on about his latest extravagant romantic gesture. Maybe it's our old age (see last week's post), but once we were married, mine and Billy's views of romanticism changed drastically. To help explain, I have created a few examples comparing the infamous "Mr. Impressive" to the Man:

Mr. Impressive: Has flowers delivered to wife's workplace.
The Man: Throws out dead flowers in the living room that have started to smell.

Mr. Impressive: Cooks an elaborate meal and does the dishes afterwards.
The Man: Makes a frozen pizza and throws away the napkins.

Mr. Impressive: Buys small presents and leaves them around the house for the wife to find.
The Man: Buys toilet paper and refills the roll for his wife to use.

Mr. Impressive: Serenates his wife with love songs he's written.
The Man: Sings selections from "Offspring's Greatest Hits" and the "Celebration Hymnal" at bedtime.

Mr. Impressive: Writes love notes on sticky's and leaves them on the bathroom mirror.
The Man: Washes the crock pot and cleans the bathroom.

Mr. Impressive: Watches "P.S. I Love You" with his wife and pretends to cry.
The Man: Watches "Braveheart" with his wife and releases a solitary man tear.

Let me say this, the Man knows how to be traditionally romantic -- he has bought me flowers, made me dinner, and has written love letters. He can be incredibly romantic, but in our short marriage, I have come to appreciate all of the little things he does. So for now, nothing says "I love you" more than putting the toilet seat down. Amen?