My Money Story

Update 11/5/18 and this is our pool, pond, 8 acres and there's a house that came with it that we never could have imagined living in. God is good.

I get so excited when my husband plugs his travel figures (expenses, overtime) into my Excel spreadsheet.

I love December because I get to set up my household budget Excel worksheets for the coming year.

Who needs the Internet on their computer to have fun?

I was married for a few years when I was younger. The guy was not only physically abusive, but he was financially abusive. We wrote hot checks, finagled free food, made $10 payments on thousand-dollar credit cards, took out payday loans. Then there was the shoplifting. And the money we owed the IRS.

Anyway, after our divorce it took me some time to get my financial act back together. I say “back” because, before I met him, I had a nice savings account and a checking account with money to burn. I could pay for community college all by myself, and my car insurance, too. I had bought two (cheap) cars before I turned 19.

So imagine my excitement when I met a shaggy guy named Aron in July of 1995 who said he was about to graduate with a degree in Electronics Engineering. I’m no gold digger, but I knew security and stability when I saw it. It didn’t hurt that he was working his way through college as a cook (the only thing better would’ve been a pastry chef job)!!!

There’s something so hot about a man who has the sense to buy a house based on only one income, thinking ahead to a future family with a woman who has always wanted to stay home with her 500 babies.

While we’re far from being rich (and don’t even aspire to that), we have everything we need for now and for the future. A place to live, cars to drive, a way to educate our kids, vacations, a library within walking distance, a camera, no debt, family, friends, Excel spreadsheets and chocolate. And each other.

My Messy House and Another Confession

I’m done apologizing for the state of my house. Step over the toys, step over the baby. Pretend you don’t notice the stains on the carpet or the dishes in the sink. Watch out for the kid with the Nerf gun pointed at your back.

While Aron travels, the kids and I usually trash the house all week. I pull out the sofa bed in the family room for them to laze around on, fall asleep on, jump on. We pick it all up on Friday.

Soon the kids will be old enough to do a wonderful vacuuming job as part of their weekly chores. I envision myself eating bon-bons and watching Rescue Me and lifting my feet up for them to vacuum under. Yeah, right.

I’d rather write or scrapbook than clean the house. I’d rather go to the park or pool or zoo with my kids. I’d rather play Scrabble with my husband. I’d rather have a root canal. I don’t think I’m alone.

It’s all my parents’ fault (isn’t everything?!). They were Chore-ly Abusive to me. You may not have heard of it because it’s a new diagnosis in the therapy world. It means they made me clean my room occasionally, do a few dishes, vacuum, dust, change the cat box, clean the bathrooms in a mediocre manner. People, these days making your kids do those things will get The State called on you.

As a result of that abuse, my cleaning reserves are all tapped out and it’s like the guy on Office Space says, “I don’t really like my job, and I don’t think I’m gonna go anymore.”

Sometimes good enough really is … good enough.

And yes, my kids DO know how to pick up after themselves. They are actually quite helpful. I just have to bark kinda loud sometimes to get them to do it.

While I’m confessing things … I watch “The Hills.” I like the music. And the scenery. But not the way they speak. Too much like a version of a Valley Girl.

Reality TV Addict

In honor of getting TV time back, here are some of my favorite reality shows. Most of them are over for the season, but those of you with that newfangled cable TV can probably catch a marathon sometime this fall.

Bikini or Bust — Ashley Paige, who has been making famous knit bikinis for 20 years, is inspirational. Who knew she wasn’t mass-producing her awesome knit bikinis and that she was totally broke because she can’t find an investor? Watching her encourages me to go for my dream of being a writer. I’ll spare you the “overcoming obstacles” clichés, Reader, because I like you.

Tori and Dean — Tori Spelling is paranoid like me and digs being a mom. I wish my husband was more like Dean … he lets Tori have like 9 TVs in the house.

Flipping Out — Jeff Lewis is a Type A control freak, which I can be. He is to the house-flipping world what I was to the proofreading world (dictator-like, noticing every flaw).

Project Runway — I can’t sew a button on a shirt (again with my husband having my sewing gene) but I love this “fierce” show. Heidi Klum (think she’ll go for one more kid?), the gay guys, the crying/fighting chicks … makes my daily life seem like cake.

Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D List — She’s not for everybody. She is sick and wrong. I still love her.

Million Dollar Listing — Is Chad for real? He sells multi-million dollar houses, is supposedly straight, yet I SWEAR he wears lipstick and that mushroom haircut is killing me. AND he says REAL-A-TER. The word “realtor”, which he IS for a living, does NOT HAVE AN extra “A” in it. And I want to sock Josh Flagg in his smirky little face.

Jon and Kate + 8 — Bears some resemblance to my own life, only with twice as many kids. If their life is a natural labor, mine is simply an epidural labor. I’m tired; my metaphorical similes suck. Are they an annoyal to you? Tee hee.

Would you rather I be addicted to crack or Valium? Reality TV is cheap, doesn’t give me a headache or hangover and doesn’t interfere with my parenting in a negative way. In fact, it puts me in a good mood and makes me feel good about myself. Like when you come to my house and leave feeling good that your house is so much cleaner than mine and your kids are so much better behaved.