Category Archives: Finances

Yes, we too have succumbed to Lotto Fever.

We hardly ever play the lottery. But last Saturday night, we threw financial caution to the wind and purchased five quick pick tickets. Why five? Because my spouse suggested we get one for each member of the family, of course. Little baby Rowan needs his own quick pick. Totally reasonable. And ten dollars seemed like a decent—if not impossibly unlikely—investment for a potential windfall return.

Alas, you know: we did not win. And now the fortune is in the billions. Isn’t it fun to think about winning? It’s gotten to the point where we actually feel like we have a good chance of doing so. What a laugh!

Just tonight, during dinner, Liam and I were talking about how we need to purchase five more tickets tomorrow before the next drawing. And then we got to talking about what it would be like to win. 

How would we share the money with everyone we knew? 

Would we give out cash? Or just buy gifts for everyone? 

Who wouldn’t love an iPad? Or a flat screen? 

Give equally to family and friends? Give more to those we liked better? Like some kind of sliding scale based on preference? 

Or reward based solely on need? Like, give our struggling friends and family money to pay off debts, but only buy a coupla Dunkin’ Donuts gift cards for those who seem to be doing quite nicely?

Then we got to talking about what we’d do for ourselves. I mean, after donating to the requisite charities, getting the nation out of debt, and ending world hunger and homelessness.

Liam would like to buy several houses. And travel for the rest of our lives. I can’t say I’m not on board with that. Also, hiring a nanny and a professional house cleaner and laundress would be paramount. I imagine I’d still like to cook if I didn’t have to mind the children 24/7 and keep up with the housework. Oh, and I’d buy fresh flowers every week to display in abundant bouquets in vases featured around our new house(s). Not a mansion, mind you. I’d say three thousand square feet should do nicely. With a pool. And a jacuzzi.

Before we knew it, we were getting quite carried away. Well, at least one of us was.

Liam: “But then we’d be famous. We’d hate that. We’d be on the news for winning the largest jackpot in history. Everyone would know about us. And we’d have to make an appearance on the Today show. That would be awful.”

And that, friends, is when I decided we had carried on long enough. Mention of our family’s guest spot on the Today show, as if it were an impending event, is where I draw the line.

We want to wish you luck if you’re playing too. But just so you know, friends, should you win and decide to use our need-based sliding scale to dole out a little extra to your loved ones, we are definitely not in the Dunkin’ Donuts gift card camp. We need all the help we can get. Be generous, please. ☺️

My plan to supplement my maternity leave income through the selling of the shit that we no longer want or need.

In about four more weeks our neighborhood will be having its annual yard sale. If you follow the blog, you may recall that four posts or so ago, I shared my thoughts and feelings about yard sales. Needless to say, they are not overwhelmingly positive. 

In the six summers we’ve lived here in this house, we’ve managed to be on vacation for five of the neighborhood yard sales. The one time we were around, we had guests visiting us, so, naturally, we declined to have a sale at our house.

I love recalling how leading up to that year’s sale, we had a very friendly woman come to our door a few days before the big weekend to ask us if we minded her setting up an egg roll stand in our yard. I politely told her I did mind, despite her offer to give us free egg rolls for hosting. Apparently, our yard had one of the only big shade trees in the neighborhood? I don’t know. I thought it was a bit strange, especially given that we were going to have company. “Oh welcome to our house. This is our crazy neighborhood yard sale, and our dear new friend selling egg rolls on our lawn. But don’t mind her. Let’s just hang out.”

A few women I work with are huge fans of yard-saling. When I mentioned the egg roll thing one day during lunch this fall, one colleague-friend said, “Oh yeah, I know her. She sets up shop at all the big sales. I have her phone number stored in my phone from last year. I used to text her to see where all the big sales were going to be. And, I would occasionally get in touch with her to request some egg rolls to be made for my family.” Seriously?! Egg roll lady on speed-dial?

So, apparently, this egg-rolling at yard sales is a thing.

We did end up heading out into the neighborhood streets that Saturday our guests were in town. And, we did end up seeing the egg roll lady on someone else’s lawn. I felt a little guilty about not being more hospitable to her. But then we bought some egg rolls from her to make up for being so unaccommodating. They were super delicious. If she comes around again asking in the next couple of weeks, I will gladly say yes this time to her setting up her biz on our lawn in exchange for some free rolls.

Anyway, I have been debating for months about whether or not to participate in this year’s sale. We aren’t going away anyplace (at least not as of yet). And, we aren’t expecting anyone either. And, we actually have a ton of stuff gathering cobwebs right now in our basement that we desperately need to get rid of. Our house is just too small to be stumbling over all this needless crap.

Generally, I’d say I lack the patience necessary to hang onto any of our unwanted things long enough to accumulate much for a good yard sale. I might consign some of it, or give some away to friends or others in need. 

More often than not, though, I typically bag up old clothes, household items, and toys that we no longer like or have use for, and call the local charity collectors. I schedule an appointment online for them to bring their trucks ’round to pick up our stuff at the curb in front of our house. How easy is that? For someone who hates clutter, and likes to think of giving to charity as a worthy service, I just can’t do much better than that.

I will say though, that with each curbside giveaway, I’ve thought to myself that we could probably make some money off of the selling of our throwaways. People more thrifty than me have probably done so with their unwanted belongings. 

In addition to yard sales, there’s also advertising on Craigslist as well as through Facebook groups. These two options are great if one takes the time to take photos of things and post them online. I’d just rather get the clutter the hell out of our house as fast as humanly possible. Thus, curbside giveaway it is.

But this year is a little different. We are living on limited income throughout the rest of my maternity leave and into the summer, until the middle of August, when my paycheck will resume again as usual. 

I’ve been trying to think creatively about ways I can make some additional money until then. But, I’ve come up with essentially nothing because these days my postpartum brain is incapable of doing much good thinking. It’s just keeping us all alive at this point.

And yet, it has contemplated participating in this year’s yard sale as a means to make a little spare change. I keep telling myself that if I can get an iced coffee stash going as a result of selling our cast-offs, or even pay for a week’s worth of groceries, it will all be worth it.

The questions that remain are: Will I be able to hang onto all those garbage bags full of our things for another four weeks or so? Or will I cave and call the charity collectors because the clutter has just become too overwhelming?

We shall see.

Federal tax refund + Nesting + Ease of online shopping = Financial Disaster

When it comes to finances and money, I wish I could use the following adjectives to describe myself: cautious, thrifty, prudent, frugal, saving—even penny-pinching.

Thankfully I am married to a man who embodies these qualities. For I am impulsive, uneconomical, spontaneous, materialistic, and, at times, excessive, with a devil-may-care attitude when it comes to spending money.

Liam and I both have good taste, I think, and we both enjoy nice things. The difference is, he can wait on a purchase, or go without, whereas I, simply, cannot. Take for example, the fact that Liam has owned an iPhone 3 for more than five years. (I upgraded to a 5 over a year ago). He admitted recently that when he uses his phone at work, he’ll open an app, leave his office to go take care of some sort of business, then come back to the app, which will have slowly opened and begun operating in his absence. I think: ain’t nobody got time for that! But, he just rolls with it. (By the way, just this weekend, I convinced him to upgrade to a 6. I think he is happy with his choice, but I know he is still smarting from the cost of it all).

We’ve begun a dialog recently—Liam and I—about whether or not we could afford for me to stay at home with the kids for a year, next year, if I took an extended leave from work. Liam insists we could do it—we’d just have to make severe cuts and sacrifices.

For instance, he suggests we could eat hotdogs every night for dinner. We could give up cable. We could not go out to eat a few times a month as we do now. We could not purchase beer and wine. These are just a few areas he has mentioned making cuts to our spending budget.

The problem is, I like our lifestyle as it is. Hotdogs for dinner every night would kill us, perhaps literally. I just read an article about how kids who eat more than twelve hotdogs a month are at greater risk of developing childhood cancer than those who do not. It means a lot to me (and to Liam, which he will readily admit) that we eat organic (when possible), whole foods. This, however, is costly.

The giving up of cable is a no-brainer for me. I haven’t watched TV in about three weeks running now. I sincerely doubt, however, the hubs’s ability to go without ESPN, NFL, MLB, NBA, NHL, pro soccer and golf leagues, and NCAA nearly everything. Also, I would not want to deprive him of either the occasional beers after work with dinner, or the glass or three of wine. I’d be right there with him if it weren’t for the whole I’ve-been-pregnant-or-breastfeeding-since-2010 thing.

And lastly, let’s address meals out, either just the two of us, or with the girls. We love this time. We love food and adult beverages and restaurants and atmosphere and dinner conversation and food.

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I once heard a rumor that a former colleague of mine from an independent school outside of Boston had a wife who wore the same dress every day for a year. I can’t recall if this was for financial reasons or to make a political statement. I bring it up just to say that I couldn’t be that person. I wish I could go without. But I choose not to.

I struggle with this on so many levels. Why can’t I be like the devout Christians who are willing to give up all they own to follow Christ in service to others? I love my king size bed too much. And the yellow chair in our living room. And the fact that I can go out to a fancy dinner with my husband once or twice a year where they serve “complimentary” glasses of champagne for special occasions along with dinner to the tune of almost $200 for an evening of some of the best (local!) food we’ve eaten time and again.

Hotdogs for dinner? One dress for every day of the year? I guess I’m saying I’d rather return to work in late August than to stay at home with my kids in order to preserve the lifestyle that allows us to indulge every once in awhile. Ugh. How depressing is that?

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Which brings us to the past week. We’ve gotten our tax refund processed. It’s in the bank now, sitting there, teasing us. Making us think we are millionaires, when in fact, just two weeks ago we had just enough money to pay all the bills.

The plan is to put a little bit down on one of the cars, which we hope to have paid off in a few more months. The rest is meant for savings, for us to live off of once I go on leave in seven weeks and one day, or less (definitely not more), and no longer receive a monthly salary.

It’s been sitting there, that money, begging of me to spend it. And I’ve been hunkered up in this house all blustery winter making lists of things we need before the baby arrives (new dresser, nursing bras, additional King-size sheet set because I’ve had the brilliant idea of pushing the girls’ twin beds together to create another family bed if the need arises once the baby comes; Easter basket goodies, since the baby is due to arrive then and who wants to go shopping after she’s just pushed out a nine-pound baby? Not me, that’s who.).

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Lastly, can we talk about how easy and convenient online shopping is these days? Two words: Amazon Prime. I know, I know. I’ve listened to the podcasts and reporting about what goes on in these warehouses and how the employee ‘pickers’ there are mistreated and grossly undervalued. Still. I can order something on my computer, or phone, and two days later, sometimes just one, a box shows up on my doorstep, free of shipping? Well, certainly not free. There is the cost of the workers’ stress, their medical bills, and therapy appointments.

Alas, I find I’ve been willing myself to steer clear of mobile devices until that excess money gets moved to its rightful place once all of our bills have cleared. I hope my husband does this soon. Because all I keep thinking about is the new bag I want to buy to take with me to the hospital when the baby comes. Liam has graciously offered to let me use his very ordinary black duffel. And, I have that bag in my closet which I have used every time I’ve traveled for the past seven years. Again, were I a practical gal, preferring functionality to style, these choices would suffice. As I have admitted though, I am not. I want that new, pretty bag!

But, I also want to be able to afford more than hotdogs once July rolls around and we are nearly penniless again. And so, it’s a constant balancing act for me that must go on in my heart of financial hearts. Splurge, save. Save, splurge.

All I’m saying is that money better be gone from our checking account soon, or else this house will be the owner of another bag too many.

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The baby’s new dresser which of course had to have coordinating baskets for storage underneath, as well as a new lamp to grace its top.