Not a Wasted Word

I wrote before about how many past purchases have been made with the hope or expectation that an item could Make It Better. I have bought many a thing because I believed it could solve a problem or improve a challenging situation. Making It Better is probably one of my biggest spending motivations.

But it’s not the only one. I have bought a lot of things in my life because they felt Worth It, as in the product provided me with enough of something good (ease, pleasure, convenience) to validate how much I spent on it. Sure I might not need a new {insert shiny specimen here} but I sure would use it a lot, and frankly that was all that mattered.

I also bought a lot of shit because I wanted it, and the price seemed Reasonable. Hey, I would wear a new pair of shoes if I owned them and at 50% off that price sure is Reasonable. Why not buy the shoes when I’m clearly getting a good deal?

I bought a LOT of shit in my life because it would be Worth It or Reasonable. For almost my entire life I’ve judged the merit of a purchase on whether or not I used the item enough to justify how much I spent. If I used something regularly, even if I didn’t need it, it was absolutely worth what I paid for it. Necessity was never a part of the equation. (If that isn’t a symptom of financial privilege, I don’t know what is.)

Lately I’ve been asking myself (and all of you) all sorts of questions about whether or not I should be spending money on something. I’m realizing that Worth It and Reasonable are not applicable anymore. I need a new measure.

Nicoleandmaggie had an insightful comment on my last post, which echoed the sentiments of a comment they left on Ana’s post last week (and was expanded upon in a post put up yesterday). In the end, the answer to the question, Should I spend? is never justified (at least not absolutely) by whether or not something can be deemed “worth it” or “reasonable” or “deserved,” (another qualifier that has green-lit spending for me in the past); in the end all that matters (at least initially) is whether you can afford it. Taking into account all your financial obligations–past, present, and future–can you buy that thing without borrowing from someone else (or your future self)? If the answer is no, then it doesn’t matter if it’s Worth It or Reasonable or Deserved. What matters is The Whole Picture.

It’s amazing how long it took for this to sink into my thick, spendy skull. I would like to say it’s because my spending freeze was not anchored in a working budget, but I tried to follow a budget for months earlier this year and I still didn’t figure this out. It quite literally took me half of 2015 to connect these dots, to put these pieces together (and I only managed it because others kept showing it to me, over and over again).

{Another reason I think it took me so long to figure this out is because I was raised believing that I’d always have enough, that I didn’t have to take The Whole Picture into account because The Whole Picture was just fine, thankyouverymuch, so I skipped that part and went straight to my metrics of Worth It and Reasonable. Yet another unabashed example of my financial privilege.}

When I said I wasn’t sure how to handle purchases that I believe would be therapeutically beneficial for my daughter, I was trying to apply my old standards of Worth It and Reasonable to the spending freeze, a situation that stripped them of their faculty. I was trying to apply them to a situation in which they quite literally no longer applied. In the end it doesn’t matter how Worth It or Reasonable an item may be, in the end, all that matters is if we can afford it.

Perhaps it makes sense that I didn’t see this, given that my spending freeze has not involved a specific budget of any kind. The spending freeze was, in fact, a pre-budgetary exercise which was supposed to help me create a  budget I could confidently follow. Maybe if I had a budget in place I would have figured it all sooner. In the absence of a budget I floundered, throwing around Reasonable And Worth It in contexts where they absolutely didn’t apply.

Now I (finally!) understand what I need to do. I (finally!) understand that I need to look at The Whole Picture. I (finally!) understand that only in the context of “what we have,” can I answer the question “Can we buy it?”

This is a big step, having this understanding. Unfortunately I’m still a few months away from really knowing Where We Are financially so that I can answer Can we buy it? And double unfortunately, my husband has to take some important and time consuming steps before I can paint an informed picture of Where We Are. But that’s okay. In the meantime, I finally understand that I can’t answer the question of Can we buy it? So if it’s a significant enough question, then the answer is unequivocally, No, we Can’t, until I have The Whole Picture, and can be sure.

It’s amazing how much clarity this brings me, as I throw out my old metrics and start applying (or preparing to) the new. I am now more motivated than ever to create a budget that BOTH my husband and I can follow, so that we can responsibly determine what kind of life is available to us right now, in this city, under our current circumstances. Now if only I can get my husband to actually start using the joint accounts we opened, I’ll be set.

What metrics help you determine if you can buy something? Have you even fallen back on Worth It or Reasonable?

I’ve never handled the loss of money (either in the form of actual money or the stuff money buys) very well. I am someone who loses things and I take it very hard when I throw cash away with items I’ve misplaced. If I had a dollar for every minute I’ve spent looking for things in my life, I’d be a wealthy, wealthy woman. If I had a dollar for every minute I’ve berated myself for losing something, I’d be the richest person on earth.

I’ve noticed that tracking my spending has exacerbated this issue. Where once wasting money made me angry, now it sends me into a blind rage, which eventually settles into a despondent disappointment.

It’s not just since the spending freeze either. At the beginning of the year, when I was tracking my spending with YNAB, and trying to stay within a set budget, I got a ticket on the bus for forgetting to swipe my card and then the next month I got a parking ticket because I didn’t realize the block parallel to ours had two-hour parking without a permit (our street, and the ones that run perpendicular have no permits or restrictions). Both of those losses sent me into angry, despondent spirals for days. I was so frustrated that I had to make room in my budget for significant expenses (the bus ticket was $109!) that were totally preventably made me rage. It took a long time for me to forgive myself. I was miserable.

Last night I conceded to a pizza because they are so cheap and we basically get six $4 meals from one, and plus we hadn’t gotten one in over a month and mostly because I really wanted some bacon pizza.

And then my husband didn’t put the leftovers away (it was agreed that he would do it) and so not only did we not get to have left over pizza for breakfast this morning (a tragedy in and of itself) but we had to throw away $14 worth of pizza. I realized this right after I noticed that the goat’s milk I asked my husband to get expired the day be bought it, and was all chunky when I opened it just two days after that.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement.

He felt terrible and I reigned in my upset, but it’s hard when I’m counting every penny to just nonchalantly blow off the throwing away of $18 in pizza and milk. I just abstained from enjoying a meal with a friend to save that kind of money, and three days later we’re dumping it down the drain.

I’m not sure quite how to strike a healthy balance with this. I don’t want to be someone who lingers over losses she can’t recoup, and yet I want to be upset enough that I take the necessary steps to ensure it won’t be repeated.

Blerg. So much to learn with this money stuff. So many emotions wrapped up in it all.

How do you feel when you loss something or get a ticket or lose money in preventable way?

I’m reading more and more frugal living and financial independence and personal finance blogs and I am so impressed with the choices people are making and how much they are saving. I think, maybe if I make those same choices, I could save that much too.

Then I realize they have smaller mortgages (either because they live in areas with lower COL or because they have a smaller house) and bigger salaries and some of them even have bonuses.

I can’t even fathom getting a bonus. I just got paid an extra $174 for moving my classroom last summer. I have a feeling that is not what they are talking about when they mention bonuses.

I think about how hard I’m trying to change the way I spend money–I finally think it may actually be happening, that shift in mindset–but then I realize that all these changes add up to a pretty small amount. It may not be insignificant, but it feels close.

It just doesn’t feel like we’re ever going to be where we want to be. Saving $45,000 for our emergency fund? It could take a decade! And then what? We’ll be in our mid-thirties, our daughter will be about to start college, our son won’t be far behind.

And what about the things we want to do? Can we just never do them? When it takes so long for us to save, projects like resurfacing our kitchen cabinets or installing new pipes (which our plumber says will need to happen some day) seem impossible. We’d have to borrow against the equity of our house, which is the ultimate no-no for the financially responsible.

I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed, realizing that even with the big cuts (no vacations, no private schools in a city with shitty public schools, no moving into our downstairs unit) and the smaller cuts (no frivolous spending, no nice things, limited eating out) we’ll still be making very small gains. I get that we chose these jobs, and we chose this city (well my husband chose it), but I don’t think we realized what we were getting ourselves into. I don’t think we understood how impossible it would be to get ahead. No one told us, because everyone lives this way. We were prepared to live this way. But now I’m not so sure I want to. And I know my husband would never, ever want to go.

I’m not saying it’s not worth it, because these changes have to happen. They have to happen for us to simply survive, but I don’t think they’ll be helping us achieve the kind of financial security we ultimately want. I don’t think we’ll ever have that.

I read these blogs and they throw around numbers that boggle my mind. Amounts are saved each year that are bigger than my salary (before taxes!). Sometimes MUCH bigger! These people, they are making double, sometimes triple what we make, and they live in places where the cost of living is less than here. What is the point in reading those blogs? When they suggest we have one person’s ENTIRE salary deposited into savings so we won’t be tempted to spend it… We need my salary to live! Can these people really teach me anything, when I’m in such a totally different league?

Sometimes I read these blogs and I walk away inspired. I see people making choices I never considered were possible and I stretch my preconceptions wondering if I could make them too. And sometimes I walk away feeling like I’ve already lost before I’ve even begun, like it will never be enough, that we’ll always be wanting.

For the first time since I bought my house I’m wondering if we’re making a mistake trying to live in this city. What if I decide I don’t think it’s worth it anymore, and my husband doesn’t agree? What if all this soul-searching around money drives a intractable wedge between us? What if we can’t figure out a solution that works for both of us? Already he fights back on almost every money-saving change I suggest. We just seem to be on completely different pages about this stuff.

And how can I blame him? I was right where he was only a year ago. I can’t believe I was so blind to our financial reality for so long? How could I not have seen?

I know I’m all over the place with this post, I’m just feeling a little hopeless about our financial prospects. We’re never going to make much more than we make now–we’re certainly never going to get bonuses–which means our financial future is now. This is it. And if we can’t even put $5,000 a year away, it’s going to be hard to get ahead. These people I read are chasing financial independence… I don’t think we can achieve financial security.

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?…Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!…WHAT HAVE I DONE?

(Talking Heads, Once in a Lifetime)

How do you feel about your family’s finances? Are you and your partner on the same page?

This itemized spending recap feel disingenuous because I was with my husband all weekend and he paid for everything. We spent A LOT on food and drinks that weekend, as we celebrated both our birthdays and our one weekend alone all year. The truth is I couldn’t have cared less where we ate during our staycation but my husband’s job requires he know a lot about what is happening in the restaurant and bar industry so he’s very keyed into all the new places that are getting a lot of buzz. It meant a lot to him to try these places and he really enjoyed it (as did I), so I’m chalking this up to concessions we make to keep our spouse happy. We so rarely splurge on nice dinners out, I suppose it’s okay once in a blue moon (though I would rather not spend so much on one dinner).

When I started this ban I said I wouldn’t buy myself or my kids any clothes, books or toys. I did not expect my daughter would suddenly grow out 3 of the 4 pairs of shoes she has and I didn’t anticipate a sale on uniforms at Old Navy. So I went against my ban and bought my daughter one pair of shoes (we’ll see if she’ll actually wear them, most likely they’ll be sent back–yes I tried to take her shoe shopping, it didn’t work) and some elastic no-tie shoe laces so that she can wear the one pair that still fits her without issue (she can’t tie shoes yet and has no intention of learning). I also received an email from another mom whose kids go to my daughter’s elementary school, alerting me to a sale Old Navy was having on uniforms. I have been picking up pieces here as I’ve come across them on clearance racks (all before the spending freeze), but I didn’t have “one week’s worth,” of uniforms yet. The sale was a good one, so I bought enough uniform items to get her through one week (we now have five white short sleeve tops for warmer weather, five white long sleeve tops for colder weather, five black skirts and six (two packs of 3) white leggings). I allowed myself to get these things because I would have had to anyway. I didn’t let myself get her anything “fun,” nor did I let myself pick up khaki pants for my son, which he’ll need when he starts going to daycare/preschool in late October. There really was some cute stuff I would have loved to have gotten for both of them, but I held strong and stuck with the uniform pieces my daughter definitely needed.

There was one other “cheat” this week, in that I got my daughter a new swim suit, which she doesn’t entirely need yet. I’m about to purchase another 15 swimming lessons for her because she needs to keep going if she’s ever going to be water safe (swimming lessons have been a positive, but slow-to-progress, learning experience). The swimsuit she has now is a cheap thing I bought from Costco and it’s constantly falling off her shoulders. I try to tie the straps in the back but she doesn’t like the feeling of the knot when she’s out of the water. If I just needed to get through our trip to San Diego I wouldn’t have bought her a new suit, but since we have many months of swim lessons ahead, I caved and got her a $12 suit from Amazon (none of the places I went to had them in stock anymore). I also got my son a long sleeve swim suit top for our trip to San Diego (all the hand-me-downs we have are short sleeved and in rough shape) on clearance for $4.56.

I want to make clear that I went to the consignment store where I have quite a bit of credit and looked for all these things (shoes for my daughter, swim top for my son, swimsuit and swim assister for my daughter–see below) but they didn’t have anything in my kids’ sizes. At least I was able to get most of this stuff for relatively cheap (not the shoes, but I know my daughter will not tolerate cheap shoes). Still, it all adds up, and I want you all to know that I thought a lot about each one of these items before I purchased it (especially since they all actually go against the ban). Feel free to share your thoughts on the many ways I broke the ban below in the comments.

Finally, I got some stuff at Babies R Us but I used an American Express gift card that a friend gave me for my birthday to buy them, so I listed them under the total spent on my itemized spending list, since it wasn’t my money that went toward them. The only thing in that purchase that goes against the ban is a floaty device I bought for my daughter to wear when we’re swimming in San Diego (also on clearance) because I want her to have some positive, independent swimming experiences outside of swim lessons. The other stuff I got there were toddler-safety supplies (my son has taken to opening cabinets and pulling out cleaning supplies, also bumping his head on furniture corners) so I don’t consider that going against the ban. I struggled with whether or not I should include these in the final total, since I could have used that gift card to buy necessities, like groceries, but in the end I figured you could add it to the total easily enough (as I have) to see what I really spent this week.

Summer is really coming to a close. We have two more weeks at home, one week in San Diego and LA and then my daughter starts school. I requested we stop eating out completely until out trip to Southern California because I know we’ll eat out a lot when we’re there, even though we’ll have access to a kitchen for all but two days. My husband is on board, but I can tell he’s a little annoyed. If we can’t abstain from our pizza/In-n-Out/occasional burrito for three weeks to save money before a trip, I don’t know when he’ll be willing to do that. Blerg. Baby steps… Baby steps.

Oh and I feel like I should mention that my mom and I took the kids to Great America (a local amusement park) on Thursday (my mom got my daughter and I season passes for Christmas) and I didn’t buy one thing there, not even a pretzel. I also abstained from a pretzel at the zoo today, so I’m making progress. As I said before, baby steps.

{Oh, and I want to comment on the ridiculously expensive lunch out with my daughter and husband for his birthday. My daughter and I were “surprising” (he actually knew) my husband at work to take him to lunch, but she was being very particular about what she’d eat, so we ended up at this annoying place that serves everything. When I heard the total for the three of us I balked. I couldn’t believe we were spending that just for the novelty of taking my husband out to lunch, especially when none of us were very excited about the meal. As we ate I realized we should have just “surprised him” and then walked around for a little while, maybe even stopped at the playground near by, instead of eating. In the past I never would have balked at that price (even though it was absolutely ridiculous) nor would I have brainstormed another way we could have celebrated my husband’s birthday without eating. I guess my mindset is changing, slowly but surely–and evidently not until after I’ve spent too much on something.}