(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)
If there’s a bag of mixed candy, do you eat only the kinds you like, leaving the others? Or do you make yourself eat all the kinds?
(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)
My mom and I each got a free sample of one of those incredibly expensive little Philosophy face serum pods. My mom used hers at the next possible opportunity. I still have mine (it’s been a month), saving it for a special occasion.
Do you use special stuff right away, or do you hoard it? If you hoard, do you hoard until it’s no longer special, or do you just hoard until the next good opportunity?
(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)
When you’re just moving the car to a new place in the driveway or if you’re just moving it out of the driveway to the yard (that is, you’re not driving it on the road), do you wear your seatbelt?
(I don’t know what the answers to any of these MEAN. They just seem like they mean SOMETHING.)
Honestly, truly, think about it carefully: Which would you be happier hearing: “Oh, you’re so pretty!” or “Oh, you’re so smart!”
We’re taught carefully that (1) appearance is of utmost importance and also that (2) appearance is of no importance, so this is a question that SEEMS like it has a “right” answer—but I don’t think it does, I think it’s just a matter of which you’d prefer hearing.
I’ve read that people who will leave a bad movie in the middle (cutting their losses) are happier and more successful than people who won’t (trying to get their money’s worth). Which kind are you?
[Edit: Okay, I totally screwed this up. I accidentally posted all five personality tests, then noticed my mistake and took out four. But it’s showing up in feed readers with all five, so some people are answering all five. So if you see someone answering five, they are not crazy! I am careless!]
Sometimes I get in these moods where I have so much to do, I can’t do anything. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but because I’m in that kind of mood right this minute, I can’t go back and find where. The idea of searching through the archives seems overwhelming.
Here’s what I do when I’m in one of those moods: I play “Well, What CAN You Do?” This afternoon, for example: There is stuff strewn all over all the floors, and the dishes are piled to the top of the sink, and laundry needs to be done, and I would like to have muffins tomorrow but would need to bake some, and I need to choose flooring for the dining room, and the sheets haven’t been changed in awhile on any of the six beds, and I need to go through photos so I can send a batch to my in-laws, and there is a lot of other stuff to be done but I am suffocating under the weight of it and all I want to do is flee to somewhere where none of this is my job. I think, “I can’t do it. I can’t do any of it. I can’t do those dishes, and I can’t handle the laundry—maybe not ever again.”
What I do is I think to myself, “Well, what CAN you do?” And I answer myself lethargically: “Well. I could put IN a load of laundry. But I’m NOT seeing it all the way through, and I’m not folding the load that’s all cold in the dryer.” And I say back, “That’s fine, fine. Do you think you could bring the dryer load upstairs?” And I say, “Yeah. But I’m not folding it!” And I say, “Sure, no, that’s fine. Just leave it in the hall.” And that’s what I do. Or perhaps I first offer the opinion that I shouldn’t even put a load in, since I’ll just have to manage it later and if I don’t it’ll be all mildewy and that’ll be even more discouraging—but if I DO say something like that, I immediately soothe myself: “No, no—don’t think about later. Just do what you can do NOW. I know, putting laundry IN is the easy/fun part, but that’s okay: just do the easy/fun part.”
And then when the washing machine is swishing, I say to myself, “What ELSE can you do? Anything?” And I shrug and say, “Well, I guess I could put away the oven mitt that’s on the counter.” And I praise myself: “Oh, good! Yes, that’s very good!” And so then I feel a little encouraged, and I say, “And I guess I could also pick up this crumpled napkin, and on the way to the trash I could use it to pick up that dead ant on the floor.” And myself lavishes me with even more praise.
Already things look better. And I don’t PUSH it, either: if doing the things I CAN do doesn’t lead to a big on-a-roll session, I go ahead and flop down at my computer or in my recliner as I wanted to do to begin with. But the washing machine is going, and the oven mitt is one less thing cluttering the kitchen counters, and the dead ant is in the trash, and so things are a little better than they were before, and I feel a little better too.
Pardon me, if I could just remind you that there is only one week left to be in on the secret that everyone except Jess Loolu may know about? The secret would benefit from more participants, and there is no reason the participants must personally know Jess in order to participate, so don’t be shy! It’s the FREE kind of secret—no one’s going to be asking you to chip in for a time-share or anything. Unless you’re Jess Loolu, click here to read more, or just email me (swistle at gmail dot com) to find out more. I can hardly believe it, but NONE of my family or real-life peeps have emailed. Not one! Not that I’m noticing who emails or not, or giving out secret mental points or anything.
I haven’t been around as much lately, and I’m embarrassed to even tell you why. It’s a bunch of little hobbies, all of which I seem to have made into minor (let’s just say minor) obsessions.
1) Postcrossing, which I already mentioned and am still panting for. You can only have five postcards traveling at a time, and so every day I’m checking email every 5 minutes to see if any of my postcards have arrived yet so I can send another one.
2) This one is the most embarrassing, so I’m going to get it out of the way fast rather than leaving it for last. I’ve been, um. Fluffracing. On Facebook. I have the Fluff Friends application, and you can, um, race them against each other. And I’ve been doing that. A lot. So that the application informs me that my Fluff Friend is tired and needs to rest before he can race again. It’s a FLUFFGAMBLING problem!
3) The secret mentioned in the first paragraph, which has been really fun to work on and continues to be fun to work on.
4) Etsy, which has been blowing my mind recently. I found it overwhelming for awhile, and I still do (I don’t like that if I type in “lunch box” I get a bunch of hits that have nothing to do with lunch boxes or lunches or boxes), but it works so much better when I’m looking for something for a post and can get caught up in all the great stuff. I keep adding stuff to my cart—there are like 50 items in there right now.
5) Twitter, which is more fun than I’d expected. If you’re like, “But I don’t GET it. What’s it FOR?”—trust me, you are not alone. The good news is that “lack of understanding” is a treatable problem: the treatment is to sign up and see if it makes sense. Or at least, that’s what I finally did: I figured that if I didn’t like it, there was no reason I couldn’t UNsign up.
6) Making fudge. I can’t understand it, but batch after batch is coming out screwy. I even threw out my candy thermometer and got a brand new one, and still the fudge is coming out wrong. Well, maybe “wrong” is the wrong word. I like fudge to have a grain to it, a melty dissolvey grain. I don’t like fudge to be smooth and creamy. But it keeps coming out smooth and creamy, no matter what I do. The only thing I can think of is that I’ve been using a new bottle of corn syrup, but that’s only 1 teaspoon per batch, and also, what could be wrong with corn syrup? Anyway, I’m getting a little compulsive about this, making batch! after! batch! because it HAS to come out right, what is WRONG with it???
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Pay-it-forward updates:
Astarte is showing the giftie she got and starting a new contest (it involves cheezy early-’90s music, although how anyone can deny that Mmmm-Bop is anything less than MUSICAL GENIUS is beyond my ken).
Living in Maryland is showing the giftie she got and starting a new contest.
Thanks for your low-barf greeting card ideas! And if you’re catching up on weekend posts, it’s not too late to make suggestions: I’m working on a post about Etsy greeting cards for a Milk & Cookies post. (My motto: “Online window-shopping can totally be called ‘working’ if I can somehow make a post out of it!”)
This morning I knocked a full glass jar of molasses onto the cement basement floor. It landed in the tiny space between the upright freezer and the giant shelf unit, so I had to try to scoop molasses (which is not as slow as it tries to pretend, but to be fair this isn’t January) and broken glass out from the 1-inch gap under heavy objects. I mostly succeeded with the shelf unit, but Paul will have to move the freezer so I can get the rest of that part of the puddle before the ants find it. I’m sure there’s a live-on-the-scene ant report interrupting their regularly-scheduled ant broadcast even as I speak.
It’s been a week since our Yard Fail Sale. Here’s the photo again of what I got rid of for $7:
I feel okay about the low-profit, though, because (1) we got rid of the stuff, which was the main goal here, and (2) I made a lot of decisions that, a week into it, appear to be happy decisions, and (3) my brother distracted me with the whole impending-aunthood thing. I’ll list the happy decisions for those of you who enjoy clutter-removal discussions; the rest of you can go on with your day. Watch out for the molasses.
Happy decision the first: I REDUCED certain collections of toys instead of making everything pass/fail. That is, instead of saying as I usually do, “We can’t get rid of our BLOCKS or our
PLAY FOOD! Blocks and play food are CLASSIC! And we PLAY with those,” I got rid of about half of each set. I got rid of the less-popular play foods (eggplant, whole turkey) and I got rid of the little square number blocks no one ever makes buildings with. We now have manageable sets of both items and so they’re more appealing to play with.
Happy decision the second: I went through the boxes in the basement marked “Fragile Pretty Stuff.” There were some hard decisions in those boxes: the beautiful stained glass items I paid a co-worker to make for me; the carnival glass I used to collect but now don’t; a few old pretty things from my ex-husband’s grandmother. But I don’t feel sad to have it gone. I did keep a few miscellaneous pieces of china, adding them to our current hodgepodge of dishes. I’d been afraid of breaking them, but when the choice was “use them or get rid of them” I’ve been happier risking it.
I got rid of the unopened-in-box extension I bought for our play yard: I thought we’d need it, but that is because I am poor with visualization and didn’t realize the playpen would take up half our living room even without the extra panels. Then I didn’t want to get rid of it because it was new! unopened! and who would want just the extension panels? But I’m glad it’s gone: that was a lot of basement space.
I got rid of all our tablecloths. The idea of tablecloths appeals to me. They were easy and fun to find on clearance. I’d thought we’d use them. But we don’t.
I got rid of most of our seasonal decor (not the holiday stuff—I mean things like autumnal wall swags). I’d thought for sure I was someone who would put up seasonal touches. But it turns out: no.
I got rid of an expensive United States puzzle that’s no fun to put together—which is why we still had all the pieces, even the tiny ones like Rhode Island.
I got rid of our video tapes. Not the kids’ video tapes, but, like, the Simpsons ones we bought and have since replaced with DVDs. Stupid progressing technology.
I changed my mind and KEPT our giant set of GeoTrax. It gets a second chance: now that we have a large clear floor area in the playroom, maybe we’ll play with it. If not, there will be future opportunities to get rid of it.
One of the toughest things to let go of was the last of my chocolate-molding stuff. I originally had two large moving boxes full of it, and the last time I did a big clutter-purge I got rid of all but my dozen or so favorite molds and a shoebox of things like lollipop sticks and pretty wrappers. This time I got rid of the rest of it: I haven’t molded chocolates for…ten years? And if I go back to it, chocolate molds are fun to buy. But I went back and forth on it, bringing them back inside twice before finally letting them go.
There! Done talking about clutter for today!
If you sell greeting cards online, like in an Etsy shop, would you leave a link in the comment section? I’m looking for a special card for a bridal shower. I went shopping for one today and had a total fail situation: they were all so cheezy, like “May your hopes and dreams water the flowers of bliss in your garden of love” and so forth. I’m looking for something less barfy.
You guys are so good at the advice questions. Turn your brilliant minds to this issue. Kristen writes:
My husband and I are both 27. We have been married for a little over 3 years (dated for 5 years before that). We both are at a place in our lives where we desperately want children (our plan is to start trying in September). We both have decent jobs, but neither of us by any means makes a fortune (although my husband is currently looking for a new job in order to try and make more money). I have always wanted to be a stay at home mom. But I also love my job, love helping the people and kids I get to help in doing my job, so right now I am hoping to find a part time job that will let me work evening hours (that is doable with my job). But I would also be completely content to stay home.
So, by now you’re thinking, “SO! WHAT DO YOU NEED OUR HELP WITH!?!? Get to the point already!”
Well, I am FREAKING OUT about the money!!! Currently we are in a very good place. We save a decent amount every month, we like our house the way it is (will obviously need a bigger house when we have more than one kid, but this will do for now), we don’t really want for anything currently. We enjoy each other and our friends but we are by no means extravagant. If we weren’t about to start having kids we wouldn’t have to worry much about finances at all. But adding a kid, and taking away part of a salary makes me panic!
So, am I alone? Am I the only one to freak out like this!?! (I sure am hoping your readers tell me no!!). And if I’m not alone, what did people do about it? How do you get past the money worries and just bite the bullet and have kids? How did it end up working out once you had kids? Is money a constant, constant stress? (That’s my biggest fear, I want to enjoy our children without having to stress all the time about money.) I don’t need a ton of money for expensive vacations, or designer kids clothes. Just enough to meet our needs, save for our future and theirs, and have fun every now and then at a place that isn’t our house (amusement parks, etc).
So, can you help me? Can you ease my fears?? (or at least give your readers a chance to ease my fears???)
Thanks for listening!
Freaking out about money is both good and bad. It’s bad because it’s uncomfortable to lie awake at night fretting about it, and because sometimes it prevents people from having children they could have afforded if they hadn’t gotten freaked out by that silly article that says it costs $300,000 to raise a child to age 18 (news from the front: it doesn’t). It’s good because the very fact of freaking out can help you keep expenditures reasonable: if you freak out a little over every $5, you’re likely to find you don’t have to.
With or without kids, financial decisions have to be made constantly. You can buy the $40,000 car or the $20,000 car or the $12,000 car, or you can buy the $4,000 used car, or you can repair your junker again. You can buy the $2,000 camera or the $1,000 camera or the $200 camera, or you can have your dad’s old camera when he buys a new one. You can buy the $4 organic avocado or the $1 non-organic one or you can buy no avocado at all. You make the decision that’s right for your personal combination of “What we can afford at our income level?” plus “How important is this item to us?”
It is the same when you have children. You can buy the $800 crib or the $200 crib or the $100 crib, or you can get a crib free (handmedown or Freecycle). You can buy the $30 diapers or the $20 diapers or the $10 diapers—and if you use cloth, you can use the $30 ones or the $15 ones or the $3 ones. You can buy the $30 formula or the $20 formula or the $13 formula, or you can see if you can breastfeed. You can buy baby clothes full-price or on sale or at consignment shops or on end-of-season clearance for the year ahead, or you can use your sister’s kids’ handmedowns.
These are the decisions that add up as you pay the expenses associated with child-rearing. Each decision is made the same way as the other financial decisions you make: “What can we afford at our income level?” plus “How important is this item to us?” Some things you might not have a choice about (perhaps your child will have a digestion issue that will require the use of the $30 formula; perhaps you will try to get a free crib but none will be available), but your general decision-making will still add up in the long run.
Something I find comforting, too, is remembering that I can change my working situation. Right now I sometimes freak a little about money—but the thing is, even if I want to stay at home for now, my youngest (assuming he IS my youngest) will be in school in 5 years, and then I can get a mother’s-hours job. If we’re strapped before then, I could get an evenings/weekends job. And if, for example, we had to go into Emergency Mode (like, I had to work full-time, so I had to do overnights because we can’t pay for three kids in daycare) for a few years, it would be at most 5 years before the kids were in school and we could have a normal life again. I can handle most stuff for just 5 years.
One of the things I think gets people in trouble is that they set up their financial situation without children in the picture: they buy a house on two incomes, and they buy their cars on two incomes, and they buy furniture they can pay off easily with two incomes. And then the kids are born, and they don’t have two incomes anymore (either they have one income, or they have two incomes minus childcare expenses) and yet the mortgage payment, the car payments, and the credit payments remain the same. Plus, now they have child-related expenses such as clothes, formula, diapers, and equipment. This is the kind of thing that sends people into a permanent financial crisis. When Paul and I bought our house and our cars, we were already on one income, and I think that’s saved us a lot of financial pain. We didn’t do it that way on purpose, so I feel lucky about that.
What do the rest of you think? How do you deal with money worries? Have those worries increased since having children? Did you have to overcome financial worrying in order to have children, and if so, how did you do it?