Sunday, September 02, 2012
My Budget Cuts
In my large treehouse, my bedroom over-filled with plants, up on the second floor away from the rest of the house, overlooking my Big Back garden, I have two sofas and several wicker chairs, yet I always sit on the bed to tie my work shoes, a banged up, super-comfy pair of used Nikes.
Why then do I store these Nikes in my closet at the other end of the room that is 40 feet away?
Now I don't.
I slip them under my bed now, saving a step, ever vigilant in my quest to streamline my terribly busy life, realizing the irony of using the word streamline in regards to parenting 39 kids. Who am I kidding?
Pleased as punch with myself that they're, the shoes, not the kids, are now not stinking up the tiny closet that houses the 3 or 4 outfits I own, I looked around at what else I could improve upon.
I'd love to rewind my life, choose another career - that of a ruthless budget slasher, remaking corporations, or businesses, saving the big bucks for better use.
Why does Medicaid pay for Viagra that will only produce more humans that likely will have needs and/or entitlement issues, sucking the government dry, yet Medicaid doesn't pay for braces for foster children?
I don't even know if that's a true statement, I'd just heard it somewhere and been outraged.
When my cost of living pension raise is 1.5% and the insurance goes up 9.5%, my net worth goes down too much. This recession is hurting everyone I know.
I sat with our own detailed budget, as I do almost daily, chopping, mincing, and readjusting, because, on paper, my family shouldn't even be able to exist, much less get through each month owing no one.
I typed out September, October, November and December columns, filling in the numbers, telling each dollar where it should go, allocating this to that line item, knowing ahead some financial challenges we'll face.
I was trying to order some supplies online, it's hard for me to get to a store what with everything else we do around here, thank you demanding soccer schedule, but the shipping rates threw me off. I looked at Amazon Prime memberships, but wasn't impressed as I don't watch streaming movies, and I recalled my Wells Fargo debit card had just surprised me with $205 in gift cards.
They have a 3X rewards system now, but it is with a credit card. I'm tempted, as that could mean an extra $615, right?
I talked to my favorite accountant who suggested I simply use it as a debit card, duh Cindy, transfer money into the card account every few days online beforehand, easy peasy, but the thought of a credit card itself makes me uneasy. I have enormous self-discipline but I'd rather model the use of debit cards to my kids.
Why don't we just spend less? We've cut to the bone, that's why. I browsed different books on money saving, intrigued with several until I realized that'd be dumb, spending good money to learn what I likely already know, right?
We'd had a super sermon this morning regarding worry, something I struggle with all the time. All. The. Time.
I know for sure it's not just an adoption thing, all families have issues and challenges. I'm aware of some super serious medical concerns amongst folks I know around here, praying for them, but not exactly much able to help in any way.
I'll quote a probation officer friend of mine, "We know when the mama quits coming to court with the defendant that she's lost hope, that it's become only a form of silent enabling."
I do not go to court anymore with my underage drinking thug, nor with anyone who'd served prison time, nor with any that've chosen to constantly break the law. There are others that I've helped along the way to comprehend their own consequences, to learn from their mistakes, and then they've never had trouble again with the law.
Some might not ever learn.
Then there's always my sweet, thoughtful Daniel who gave UGA Home Game tickets yesterday to Preston, Ray, CW, and Sabrina. "He spoiled us," CW told me upon arrival home, sunburned and happy.
Yep, that's Daniel. He'll be Megan's husband by the end of next month. Oh my goodness.