Spending Family Money to Buy Family Time

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I’m the financial organizer in our house; the prudent one, the thrifty one, the bill-payer, the budgeter, the saver.  So every few months, I take a look at our numbers and see if we’re on track with the goals and priorities we’ve set for ourselves.  As I was reviewing our finances last week, I noticed that we are spending family money to buy family time.

I’ve been back to work following my maternity leave for a couple of months now, and our life as two-working-parents-with-two-children is exponentially busier than our life as two-working-parents-with-one-child was.  In an effort to maximize family time with our children, our spending priorities have shifted.  We’ve had to modify our budget and our mindset to make this happen….. dinners out are now few and far between, our vacation fund has been derailed, and trips to Starbucks and Mapleview Mall are nearly non-existent.  But it works for us.

Here’s where I spend family money to buy family time:

  • I hired someone to clean my house.  Denise comes every other Thursday morning and cleans our place from top to bottom.  This means that I don’t clean.  I sweep the floor and do the dishes and laundry.  And that’s it.

Time bought: 6 hours/month.

  • I hired a painter to paint two bathrooms.  My friend Tommy did a fantastic job updating our master bathroom and main bathroom- and he did it in a fraction of the time that it would’ve taken me.

Time bought: 10 hours.

  • I go to a wonderful hairstylist.  Whereas I used to need a hair appointment every eight weeks, Telly gives me a great cut/highlights with minimal upkeep- I now go every twelve weeks.

Time bought:  3 hours every other month.

  • I go to a gym that’s got a fast, effective approach to fitness.  Crossfit is all about intensity.  I go and work HARD for an hour- and I’m back home before my kids are even awake.  This is a big change from my long, ineffective workouts at other gyms.

Time bought: 3 hours per week.

  • I got a new iPhone.  This phone can do everything my computer can do and more, all within easy reach.  I’m able to multi-task and complete my electronic to-do list in small chunks throughout the day, rather than a big chunk every evening.

Time bought: 4 hours per week.

The way I see it, I’ve bought myself 45.5 hours this month- nearly two full days and two full nights.  And I’ve spent $16.48/hour for that time.  I think that’s a pretty good buy.  

Break the Silence

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I struggled to write this post.  Really struggled.  Not just with the emotion of it all, but with the feelings of vulnerability and complete exposure that this topic brings out in me.  But that’s why it needs to be written…..to break the silence, prevent the stigma, and end the taboo surrounding miscarriage.

I had a miscarriage last year.  We lost our baby on April 6th, 2011, at 11 weeks and 6 days gestation.  One day shy of the magic ’12-weeks-pregnant’ mark where the stats on miscarriage decrease dramatically.  I was wrapped up with the excitement of another baby, and we were already envisioning life as a family-of-four.  In a cruel twist of irony, we had signed the papers for our bigger-with-an-extra-bedroom-house the weekend prior.  I had told friends and family of my pregnancy, even casually mentioned it to acquaintances, and sorted through bins of my maternity clothes.  And then it all ended.  My miscarriage was very sudden, very graphic, and very traumatic.  There was no doubt what was happening to our baby as we rushed to the ER, and as I laid on a triage bed next to my heartbroken husband, the loss overwhelmed me.

Those next few weeks are a haze of tears and despair.  My mom flew out to support us, and helped me get through the physical and emotional struggle of the first few days.  I ended up with a D&C surgery two weeks later, as I was deemed to have experienced an ‘incomplete miscarriage’.  The day following my surgery, I flew to New York City to spend the weekend with my two best friends.  And as I reflect on that difficult time in my life, I can see that’s where my heart began to heal.  Sister-like friends have that power.

That baby would’ve been due on October 27th, 2011.  I was dreading that day on the calendar, which had already been circled in a big red heart when we initially found out I was pregnant.  But as October 27th approached, I found myself blessed with another pregnancy; my beloved Casey was born on March 2nd, 2012, only 11 months after the miscarriage.  My gratitude for her is exponentially greater after feeling the hopelessness of loss.

There are three things that helped me get through this:

1. A memorial.  We carved a cross on a big tree in our favorite walking trails in remembrance of our lost baby.  That tree is a source of comfort for me, and a place we visit as a family several times a year.  My 3.5-year-old calls it our ‘special tree’.  I like to think of it as our ‘healing tree’.

2. Time.  While the grief and pain from this experience is not gone, it has lessened.  Time heals.  And my heart has healed a lot in 18 months.

3. Talking about it.  When this happened, I told the details to all of my family and friends.  I told my parents and my in-laws.  I told my sister-in-laws.  I told my girlfriends.  Talking about it helped me to process things, but it also helped to break down the stigma.  Miscarriage is still a taboo topic, and people don’t know what to say when it happens to someone they know.  It will happen to someone you know.  Up to 25% of known pregnancies result in miscarriage, 80% of those occurring in the first trimester.  Don’t say nothing.  Acknowledge the loss.  Because saying nothing only perpetuates the silence.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month.  On October 15th at 7pm, I will be joining many other people around the world in lighting a candle to remember the babies we’ve lost.  And I will be hugging the babies I have, thankful beyond measure.

Farewell, Our Loyal Friend.

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Our beloved dog died last week.

Tyson was our eight-year-old Chocolate Lab, who had been with my husband and I since the very beginning of our relationship.  I met Chris in January, 2004, and he got Tyson in March.  My friends tease that I married my husband for his dog; they were a package deal.  Tyson was with us through the start of our marriage, my graduation from Chiropractic College, the start of a business, a move, and two babies.  He has comforted me through heartache and celebrated with me through triumph.  Now that he’s gone there is an emptiness in my heart.

He was euthanized on Tuesday afternoon, after suffering a massive, brain-damaging seizure that morning.  There are a few blessings in this scenario, in a silver-lining kind of way: 1) Tyson had three smaller seizures over the course of the last two weeks, so we had time to mentally prepare ourselves for this inevitable end, 2) the choice to euthanize was a clear one.  There are no ‘what-ifs’ or ‘should-haves’; in the end, Tyson was not the dog we knew and loved, and 3) my kids are not old enough to be emotionally distraught over the loss of their friend.

Tyson enriched our lives in countless ways, and this is what I will miss:

  • I will miss seeing his happy, tail-wagging self when I come home.
  • I will miss having him by our side on after-dinner walks.
  • I will miss seeing my son laugh at his high-fives, sit-stays, and rollover tricks.
  • I will miss seeing my daughter watch his every move.
  • I will miss exploring the trails in our neighborhood with him.
  • I will miss my son referring to us as a family of five.
  • I will miss watching him chase sticks through the creek.
  • I will miss having to store every morsel of food above shoulder-level.
  • I will miss him alerting us to visitors with a bark and a race to the door.
  • I will miss the kindness, compassion, and responsibility that he taught my kids.
  • I will miss his gentle nature.
  • I will miss him running around the backyard while we play.
  • I will miss the warmth, love, and comforting energy that he brought to our home.

We are going to spread his ashes through his favorite running trails, and we’ll hang a cross on our backyard fence in remembrance of him.  We will miss him, but we will not forget him.  Farewell, our loyal friend.  R.I.P.