time v. money, the rematch

The best part of being a stay-at-home mom, I've always said, has been the liberal vacation policy. Provided the kids come along for the ride, of course. My crowning parental achievement will probably be my undoing, but it's the 4 wk. road trip each summer - the east coast tour. The kids have become incredibly good travelers - flexible, open to adventure, abstaining from kicking the seat, and being lulled by way too many on-board videos. Solo parenting is actually easier with the frequent change of scenery - we never stay anywhere for more than two days if it's not equipped with grandparents or Most Favored Aunts. Honestly - without the road trip, we wouldn't see anyone, but this way we see everyone - although not for long. Three airfares, rental car and meals - not to mention hotels - is brutal. And then you're limited to the city you fly into, instead of the lower 48 and our beloved Canada. So taking 3 days to drive to New York starts to look pretty good. Especially if we visit friends and family, and do fun side trips en route. And if a child is having a massive temper tantrum, it's possible to pull the car over and give mommy a time out from the purely hypothetical misbehaving troll. (If you're in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, within 5 minutes at least 3 helpful elderly men in plaid will stop and kindly offer assistance.) This is unlike the Friendly Skies, which quickly turn hostile unless you offer to buy drinks for surrounding rows lucky enough to be seated nearby your sleep-starved children channeling Satan as you sit on the tarmac for 4 hours. I can barely get through security without tears or a Xanax. 3600 miles in a Toyota starts looking pretty good...

For the record, I love our car. But lately I am covetous. Luckily the car I want doesn't yet exist, so the longing remains purely theoretical. I want a non-mini van with mini-van amenities (add'l seats option), hybrid, and preferably metallic orange. I really can't explain.

Anyhoo, even with the occasionally high gas prices, and way too many pre-packaged shut-up snacks and animated musicals, the road trip is the reasonable alternative. Or at least it was. Turns out that this year both time and money aren't incredibly abundant... or so it seems.

We sat down with the summer calendar last nite and looked at options. We have a few things already booked - church camp, kindergarten boot camp for X. As it would be nice for our family vacation to actually include all 4 family members, we're needing to work around ... work. Bob is a lot more essential lately (yay, job security! boo, stress.), and the idea of being gone 2 wks. and attempting to catch up is distinctly unappealing. We're looking at long weekends, at best. And although it may be traditional for psychoanalysts to take the month of August off, my fledgling private practice doesn't really qualify. Neuroses don't take a holiday. At least mine don't.

The envelope please..... Wisconsin, here we come. Camping, water parks, mini golf, the works. We may even take a boat trip touring the Apostle Islands. It's all good - the strategic, tactical staycation. Driving less than 500 miles per day will be disorienting but good for the environment.

It's a bummer though - basically knowing we're not going to spend quality time with friends and family, unless they come here. And the kids talk about roadtrips as a summertime given. But we'll be open to options of abundance, even in the old backyard. Although the weeds tend to outnumber the berries, at least on our block.

On the bright side, I haven't been around for the peonies to flower for 3 years. I've almost forgotten the smell, somewhere between home-perms and sweat socks. And we're keeping perspective here: we have a home and jobs to leave behind. It's not like this is a hardship, it's just slightly scaled-back vacation. Sheesh. We have good fortune in abundance.

Objects in mirror are larger than they appear.

Contrived to feel deprived

Deprivation, at least in this country o' plenty, is mostly a state of mind. Until recently we thought tent cities were for other people far away, and that banks don't fail - except in a Steinbeck novel or some old WPA photojournalist's work. We are ridiculously rich and blessed to be living in this time, even if these next few years have nothing but bad news. It's the social worker in me, but I am glad there is some sort of safety net - even if it is a scant 6 inches above the floor. Still, we are confusing and end of abundance with desperate deprivation.

There are some mindgames afoot here. I'll call on an example from my long but not quite glorious history of dieting.

Flush with good intentions, you develop a very strict diet plan for yourself and proceed to be vigilant - nothing that isn't low calorie or healthy will darken your pantry shelves. Remove the temptation so it's easier to stick to your resolutions, right? But if you persist in this semi-deprived state, you will either cheat on the diet (and by cheat I mean binge) or end it quicker. The fact of knowing that - should you choose to - you could find treat foods to indulge in makes it less likely that you will do so. Choosing to be disciplined is an affirming experience; being disciplined by circumstances or others makes us (me) cranky and resentful. i.e. Bob raises an eyebrow at my admittedly poor snack choice... and I'm immediately thinking defensively which then over-endorses my reasons for being undisciplined in the first place - shame is not a helpful learning tool. How do I act out those negative feelings? Usually by eating more. So there.
That'll fix 'em.

Sigh.

My point is that I had decided to go shopping this morning - to check out the Salvation Army to see what was there - knowing full well the likelihood I'd walk out without purchasing stuff we didn't actually need was quite high. I have done it before, but... I had contrived this visit as a motivator to complete some onerous paperwork for my private practice. (I've succumbed to insurance, and am going over to the dark side.) After dropping off my all-important-envelope at the post office, I volunteered for a bit with X's preschool class. When I was leaving, I noted I had a full 2 hrs. to myself before I needed to pick up L early for Spring Break. That seemed like too much time and temptation. I did the responsible thing and went grocery shopping. It didn't start out as an "instead" - but I went to a different store than usual, with only a mental list, and got caught up in coupon mania. Poof - there went an hour. And now an hour didn't seem like enough time to head over to do some real shopping....

Strangely enough, I'm okay with that. It's not like I'm deprived. I could have gone shopping. I chose not to. We have enough. In fact, it's an embarrassing abundance, from the global perspective. Just working on the grateful heart part.

Bargaining

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross is credited with developing the stages of the grieving process, namely denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Of course this isn't an a then b then c progression - sometimes you may get stuck on one stage, even regress. Progress is cyclical, even backwards at times. Most of human development is like that. So when someone is referred to as "a work in progress" don't leap to the conclusion it's forward progress. That's just a set-up for frustration.

(As my wise friend Janel advised me about raising boys, count on them doing the exact thing you've asked them not to, at least once more, after you've made your expectations clear. Sometimes the best thing you can bring to a tense situation is a set of lowered expectations. And a sense of humor is always helpful. My marriage confirms this, daily.)

I think that my default setting - the desire to shop, the need to honor a really great deal with an actual purchase (even if I don't need or even want the item) - is getting reset, a bit. It's hard to let go, and tempting to stay stuck. It may not be functional but at least it's home! Hence the grieving process, as I try to let go.

Today I had zero energy but had to get going anyways - brought X to preschool, stressed about arriving at work a few minutes late. Then I find out the client I was there to see was AWOL, as in missing persons report. Being selfish, I immediately think of my wasted time and energy - especially since I could have been home sniffling, rather than hopped up on Hall's somewhere in the north Metro. And with my consulting gig - no play no pay. Aaaargh. Can I have my gallon of gas and 45 minutes back, please, with interest?

So how does my rational mind respond to my frustration and lack of income? "F.... it! Let's go shop!" Cue the siren song of the Salvation Army, three exits away, en route. But... it occurs to me that I am unable to go there and NOT find something worthy of purchase. To even walk in those doors is to tempt fate. Accepting my limitations, I just .... didn't let myself go. I did the responsible thing and went home to complete some looming projects I'd been putting off. In lieu of napping, I cleaned out one closet, two cupboards and the linen closet - filling my trunk in the process. And all about the immediate gratification, I proceeded immediately to the Goodwill - do not cross go, do not collect $200. I love the drive-thru drop off. Liberating. Especially when I breezily scoff at the tax deduction receipt.

Lest I be too complacent, I must admit I did some bargaining after all. If I finish my credentialing paperwork tomorrow for insurance, I get to visit the Salvation Army. Denial. It makes the world go 'round.

Baby Love

I talked with our friend Elizabeth today for the first time since she had her daughter. You could hear her beam. Awesome. Welcome to the club! Prepare to be humbled, by how much love your heart can hold, how much power a 7 lb. being can wield, and how much equipment is required in this endeavor.

Pregnant with our first, I was truly touched by how many folks came forward with clothes, car seats, strollers, toys, etc. to borrow and then pass on. Honestly, I don't know how we would have managed to buy everything that seemed so essential... later on I figured out how grateful they were to move stuff out of their house, even if just on a loan.

The "shoulds" have more of a stranglehold on parenting than you notice, until you're under the crushing burden of others' expectations, generally which run contrary to your own intuition. Retail geniuses know this, and exploit it handily. Add that to the demographics of more educated and wealthy individuals waiting longer to have babies, and it's a toxic mix. Guilt is more of the cherry on top.

Case in point: how to carry a baby. Sounds deceptively simple, but let's break it down to baby-wearing, car seats, and strollers. The amount of information you are supposed to sort through with your sleep-deprived remaining brain cells is staggering. What's safest? What's most convenient? What will best encourage bonding/attachment parenting/brain development etc.?
The question conspicuously absent, what kind of stuff does our family actually need?

If I could do it all over again (and I can't. Well technically, I could. But at least my husband stopped marking furniture.) I would spend money on a decent, more or less all-purpose stroller. I had an umbrella stroller, a small folding one, the frame for the baby bucket, the jogging stroller that always pulled to the left, and the off-brand Burley. Later, I added a front/back tandem stroller that had the turning radius of the Queen Mary. All of these were cheap/used/borrowed - I looked askance at the high end strollers - $500? Seriously? But if I would have bought smarter, I would have bought less. And hopefully a better design would have been a sanity saver. Or at least would have postponed my carpal tunnel surgery...

It's not that long since I've had kids; they are 4 and 7. But just the options for carrying your baby have increased exponentially just in a few years. And they call it "baby wearing" now, which makes them sound like accessories. At least in the Twin Cities, they have groups that meet so you can try all the different configurations of slings and swaddling and snugglies, oh my. Let's not forget that all the research and smart consuming in the world doesn't matter if the baby doesn't like that organically grown, vegetable dyed, fair labor, 17 foot long unbelievably complicated and precisely knotted baby sling.

Too many parenting decisions get played out in the marketplace and exploited accordingly. Notice all the retro toys lately? Those are designed for the mid-30s parents just having kids now. Toilet locks, furniture tiedowns, and padding on each possible surface - it all adds up to quite a bit of expense. And all the safety gadgets in the world aren't a substitute for being in the exact right place at the right time. Which means it's not if your child will get hurt, but how, when and who can you blame? Each child with have their own tendencies towards scaling furniture, walking way too early, dissembling electronics - so again, it is all individual but as a demographic new parents are encouraged to buy multiples of the best of every possible gadget for every imaginable need.

For the record, I also wished I would have spent money on an easy-to-clean high chair. Preferably of sturd-but-cushy foam that could be put in the dishwasher and reassembled later by the toddler themself.

Some caveats:
Many of the used baby items out there aren't up to date with safety standards - so check for recalls etc. before you buy.

I wouldn't accept a car seat from someone if I didn't know how old it was, whether it had been in an accident, and if it had the proper documentation on installation. Even then, it's a good idea to do a safety check at the cops or fire station.

Baby gates are marvelous - you can never have too many. And there's no point in buying them new. Plan on having different types - sometimes having a step-thru gate makes sense (like at the top of the stairs), other times the plain other ones aren't too bad to hurtle. We even had one that we cut a cat door into... now our friends have it and their cat is too fat to go through it but he still tries anyways.

Pass the stuff on as soon as you're done, even if you're going to borrow it back in a couple of years. It's like kharma, sort of.

Bassinettes and moses baskets are largely useless but decorative. Ditto the themed nursery with all the padding that is potentially hazardous and curtains in pastel colors that the baby can't perceive for a while.

A glider rocker is a worthwhile investment. You spend an awful lot of time in it... Place it near a window and preferably some alternating art/world maps/factoids to help give you a break from staring at your beautiful nursing child. It makes for less neck pain and brain drain.

Get a breast pump that's hands-free. It will come in handy, when you return to work and are late to your next client and have to pump in your car whilst driving 70 and talking on the cell phone. (Sadly, this is a true story.)

I cushioned my whole living room and dining room's worth of craftsman furniture with cheap pipe insulation foam tubes, although the adhesive was pretty tough to get off later.

I'm sure that there are more helpful factoids but pregnancy and childbirth shrunk my brain.
Time to make dinner.

Cold Comfort

I have a helluva headcold and am being a big baby about it. So you may want to turn down the volume so you don't hear me whining...

Yesterday X and I went to the Como Zoo in St. Paul, which is struggling to not be as pathetic as it is. I appreciate it's free and they are doing some nice development, but seeing animals made mentally ill by their confinement isn't my idea of recreation. Yet it was rainy and the boy was crawling the walls and I needed to find something for us to do. Instead of shopping. It was a good call. In the conservatory the flowers were unbelievable - it's like my senses have lost the ability to perceive colors like green and yellow and pink. I took a bunch of pix and intend to put it on Facebook as a little eye candy for us beleagured northerners, after a hell of a winter.

While we were in the neighborhood, I swung out to the thrift store near the group home. For some reason I'm always blanking on the name - I want to call it Unique Thrift Store but I may be high from decongestants. It's basically on Larpenteur and Rice, just before you run out of St. Paul and into Maplewood. Since I usually tack a store visit onto a work visit, I haven't brought kids in it before. It rapidly became clear why this was a good thing and that I shouldn't have bucked the trend.

The place is huge. It's well lit, neat, laid out so you can actually shop. My kids have certainly been in stores before, but now that it's a rare trip instead of a weekly excursion, the shopping skills have really dropped off. As if they were deprived of civilized shopping experience and acted accordingly savage? Or have they just forgotten parameters like stay near Mom so she doesn't lose you under a clothing rack and have a heart attack?

Part of the problem is the way that there isn't a toy section per se - there's a shelf on top of each long line of clothes that has assorted toys on it. Thankfully, they are higher than a five-year-old's reach, but well within sight. And they tend to be giant configurations of eye-catchingly bright plastic that kids love and parents fear.

We were on a mission: rain boots. Found two pairs, both too small. Drat. That was the "needed" item, and an elusive one at that. I erred in not having a clear exit strategy. Sign of the times. The wandering commenced, moving towards the door - sort of.

For some reason I picked up a bag of assorted buttons and a Trek bike helmet in like new condition. But as I kept telling X we didn't need toys so wouldn't be buying any, I reminded myself about the new standards and that they should apply to me as well. The bag of buttons went back first. Although I do use them regularly in my jewelry projects and there were a couple really cool ones in there - definitely have about a billion to use before I need to restock. So I reined in my inner magpie. The bike helmet was more of a decision process - mine's at least 12 years old and not exactly state of the art, but still functional. I haven't taken a major crash since the ill-fated Rollerblading incident in grad school. I may be tempting fate by leaving behind the swank helmet with the sun visor and uber-adjustable straps. I have a huge fear of being traumatically brain injured somehow - bodily okay but mentally unrecognizable. I've worked with some incredibly sad TBI cases over the years, and they've left an impression. But I digress. Humor me, and act shocked.

In order to walk the talk and be consistent - both for my own conscience and to be my son's good example - I put our items back, reminded him (and myself) they didn't have what we needed and we didn't require anything else. Walking up to the door required moving through the cash register areas, and a gal looked a little startled we were walking out empty-handed. Her eyes darted anxiously to the size of my purse (medium) and the shape of my coat (unflattering but not particularly concealing)- assessing if we had shoplifted, I suppose. I guess I didn't blame her for looking at us strangely; a year ago I wouldn't have considered myself capable of such restraint. I was briefly self-congratulatory.

X, however, was not deterred by my barrage of no's; en route to the car he mentioned that next time we could buy him a small toy truck, and "Just not tell Papa." Ouch.

Just a piece of work. But in progress. Or thereabouts.

You may say I'm a dreamer

I had one of those bizarre nights where it felt like I didn't sleep much but I dreamt a lot... not the same dream but there was a thread running through them all. Nothing racy, mind. It was all about STUFF. One of them I was in a home helping sort belongings (cleaning/organizing???) and they said I could keep what I wanted and it seemed like I kept discovering layers and layers of cool stuff - vintage jewelry, neat purses, bright silk scarves. And even though they said I was welcome to it, I felt like I was stealing. And that just made me greedier; like I was gorging on baubles. When I woke up, I was disappointed I didn't actually have all that bling. This was followed up by a shoplifting dream (makeup, which I can barely bother to wear anymore but it was something about the colors...) and then there was a dream about finding a wallet that kept expanding to have more cash and treasures and I went from opening it to discover the owner and return it to stuffing my pockets furtively with the contents.

So apparently even in my dreams I'm greedy. Good to know.

I know it's a travesty for the mental health profession but I've never bothered much with dream interpretations. Most of the time I don't remember; the rest of the time I don't care. But I can recall very clearly the rush of acquiring things that were literally a steal. Weird, and vivid.

Perhaps I'm feeling deprived lately, as I haven't shopped at all. How pathetic is that? I am not deprived of a single solitary thing, yet I dream of more stuff like a starving person would food. What do people in a state of perpetual, actual want dream of? Survival? As a dream? Talk about your hierarchy of needs....

I'm trying to raise the bar to not just second-hand but necessary. Right now all I can think of is puddle boots for X. And I haven't felt motivated enough to start that quest, although a week of rain should get me in the necessary mindset.

Spring is in the air, finally. Oh no wait, that's just the scent of thawing doggie shit...

It has been nice and warm and sunny enough that we have the kids biking and we've discovered that my flamingo-proportioned 7 year old has seriously outgrown her bike. So today we stopped by the Sibley Bike Coop on University Ave in St. Paul. It's one of those places that makes you really glad you live in a city with such civic-minded, selfless people. They have hundreds of bikes, all donated, fixed up by mostly volunteer mechanics, and sold at quite reasonable "suggested donations" which in turn go to support the co-op and it's 3 or 4 dedicated staff. They even run a summer workshop for kids 11 and up to learn how to rehab a bike from top to bottom and they get to keep the bike. Check out their website:

www.sibleybikedepot.org

We scored two great bikes for the kids - both in phenomenal shape - for less than $100, total. The staff & volunteers were amazingly helpful and enthusiastic, and the shop has a great community feel to it. As we were leaving, Bob mentioned he wasn't sure why we didn't shop for my bicycle there a few years ago. I couldn't think of a single good reason, although I love my bike. At the time, buying used didn't even occur to me. Now, that's kind of embarrassing. I think this whole consciousness-raising thang is going to make me quite intolerable. Really.

Gotta watch the sanctimommy. Or I'll be having a slice of humble pie with a hemlock chaser.

Not dead yet... feeling alright

I'm still not used to the whole blog phenomenon. I certainly enjoy reading other folks' musings on a variety of topics. I can't say I've been much of a follower for long. I was taken aback the other day when I started telling some sort of hopefully witty anecdote, and was stopped with "Yeah, we saw that on your blog."

Yup. I've become my own re-run.

So as much as I'd like to mine my daily trials and tribulations for blogging material, I need to admit that it's not always spellbinding material. It's sort of novel when I discover who actually reads these pages in the hopes of some entertainment or at least food for thought. When conversations start with "You haven't written anything in a while." I am somewhere between flattered and flustered. But it amps up the pressure a bit, too. Most days I can turn this minor stress into a Motvational Force. Some days, not so much. I've never considered myself a Writer in the big-W sort of way, but still, I get the writer's block and all the benefits therein.

Inappropriate self-disclosure time:

I'm in a piss poor mood. Foul. Clinically: anhedonia, amotivation, mood lability, difficulty concentrating, paucity of thought content. Or, as our dear friend Tim calls it, "A serious case of the fuck-it's." It's late afternoon and the longest I've been out of bed at a stretch has been an hour. I look like the wrung-out washrag hag on the Cymbalta commercial. And that's after a shower.

Sigh.

We all have our days. Today is not one of my best and brightest. No need to worry though. I'll be back to my neurotic baseline in no time.

Meanwhile - I don't feel like shopping, at least. Everything looks wrong and takes too much energy. Economic depression on the local level...

Shakers: more than simple furniture

It seems that wherever I turn, there's a discussion on the economy, personal responsibility, and how we can find the illusive "enough". I think it's a co-function of my increased awareness and a sign of the times. Plenty to ponder, and good blog fodder.

We're members of St. Joan of Arc Parish in Minneapolis, which is nominally Catholic but serious about social justice and putting faith in action. I can always count on food for thought, and today was remarkable. It touched on about a zillion themes about renewal, values, simplicity and put it in the context of cleaning house, spiritually and emotionally.

What follows is the Shakertown Pledge, which was developed by several spiritual leaders representing various faith tradition.

"Recognizing that the earth and fullness thereof is a gift from our gracious God, and that we are called to cherish, nurture, and provide loving stewardship for the earth's resources; And recognizing that life itself is a gift, and a call to responsibility, joy, and celebration. I make the following declarations:
1. I declare myself to be a world citizen.
2. I commit myself to lead an ecologically sound life.
3. I commit myself to lead a life of creative simplicity and to share my personal wealth with the world's poor.
4. I commit myself to join with others in reshaping institutions in order to bring about a more just global society in which each person has full access to the needed resources for their physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual growth.
5. I commit myself to occupational accountability, and in so doing, I will seek to avoid the creation of products which cause harm to others.
6. I affirm the gift of my body, and commit myself to its proper nourishment and physical well-being.
7. I commit myself to examine continually my relations with others, and to attempt to relate honestly, morally, and lovingly to those around me.
8. I commit myself to personal renewal through prayer, meditation,and study.
9. I commit myself to responsible participation in a community of faith."

How committed am I? Depends on the day. How would it work if everyone had occupational accountability - how to decide what constitutes harm? Who decides if computers and cars do more harm than good? What about wine? To quote a particularly odious Big Stone County attorney, "How dare you put a value judgement on my value judgement?"

There's a slope slippery enough to lead to sanctimony, and we know that doesn't actually lead to productive dialogue, much less lasting behavioral change. But I'd have to say reminding myself daily of these 9 pledges would be a step in the right direction: more mindfulness, realization of interconnectedness, and being more responsible in day to day decisions. Is it all good? No, but some days it might just be enough.

Now and Zen

Economics, compulsive spending, recycling, minimizing impact on our world - all very heady issues. But I need to break it down to the personal choices and daily struggles just to reinforce the macro issues at the micro level.

I am a consumer. Admittedly so. I just hate the term. This brings to mind PacMan gobbling up resources, never giving back.

If you take it to the extreme, everything we do is consuming something - energy, food, money, toiletries, clothing, all this endless stuff we fill our homes and lives with. I have a habit of overconsuming food, trade paperbacks, wine, and some prescription drugs. I am a glutton - I do not have a recognizable satiety point.

For instance, I just had a bowl of lovely Trader Joe's Pecan Praline Granola. It was fabulous - not too sweet, crunchy and satisfying, lots of fiber. Too bad it was my second giant bowl today. It's an automatic thing - if it's good, then more makes it better. And if I'm emotionally overeating, more makes it all better. And I'll find I'm doing this shortly after I realized I wasn't hungry in the first place. There's a troublesome lack of integrity here - a gap between what I think and how I choose to act. A dis-integration, which is never good for the self-concept.

Here's a link to a thought-provoking article about a couple trying to live well and eat healthfully on the equivalent of a foodstamp budget. Well worth reading!

http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-stamp11-2009mar11,0,5424533.story

The author and his wife did 2 months, barely made it under budget, even starting with a well-stocked pantry. But the lesson endures - having bagel sandwiches at a bistro now seems ridiculously decadent. Once made aware of habits that seemed so automatic before, it's nearly impossible to be anything but changed.

I must admit that I do enjoy grocery shopping more now because it is the only guilt-free purchasing I do anymore. And to be honest - it's not always guilt free. I compare prices, look for sales, shudder inwardly at how much a piece of cheese costs now. It seems that I cannot walk out of a grocery store for under $40, even if I'm just picking up a few items. I also have to be aware of my food choices, talking myself out of gooey brownies or that pint of Ben n' Jerry's that no, is not meant to be a single serving. It seems that deprivation in one area encourages indulgences in others... All this mindfulness can be rather tiresome.

I do, however, deliberate for a very long time on what bath soap to choose. It's a permitted indulgence, and I for some reason really really hate Ivory soap, which is the only one Bob ever buys. I don't care if it floats. I'm looking for clean skin, not a freakin' life jacket.

There was a point here, sort of...
(I had to take a brief break to perform CPR on a life-size stuffed penguin.)

By minimizing the options for what I can buy, I am more aware of the choices I make within the category of consumables. Even though they won't be around in my world for more than a shelf-life, I debate more what I want and naturally want less. It's sort of Zen, really. And some days it actually works.

Admitting it is the first step on the long journey to hell down the road paved with good intentions.

My name is Karen and I am powerless over plastic.
Hi Karen.

This is Minnesota, Land of 10,000 Support Groups. I'd probably fit into a few different ones, actually: Codependent, Emotional Eating, Compulsive Shopping, etc.

Did you hear about the codependent who had a near-death experience?
Her husband's life flashed before her very eyes....

Although I've always been inclined toward twisted humor, my chosen profession hasn't helped. And having children has further eroded that filter between what I think and what I actually blurt out. It ain't pretty.

But I digress...

Yesterday I had planned to take a friend to the Salvation Army and -get this - just not buy anything. Bob and I had yet another discussion about the proliferation of toys - regardless of new/used - is still consumption. And that for as much as I've been getting rid of our belongings, other things were inexorably creeping in to take their place. The accidental emphasis on acquiring things doesn't really mesh with what we'd hoped to teach our children. All true, valid points, I must admit.

X and I needed to clear out of the house for a while, as Nady our cleaning lady was at work. We did a couple of errands, attended a playgroup, generally killing time. I got a phone call from my friend saying she wasn't up to an outing. Faced with a change in plans, I go to default settings i.e. shopping. In my defense, the purpose was to find X some shoes - he is growing out of his sneakers, leaving him with only moon boots or sandals as options. Not quite enough for the hateful weather of March.

We went to Goodwill and struck out. Nothing in his size. Didn't look for anything else. Managed to escape the toy aisle and video shelf unscathed.

I wasn't up to dealing with Savers, which is probably a cop-out. So off to the Salvation Army. First we checked upstairs which has a good used shoe section, but no luck. Downstairs had a bunch of cool shoes, including a pair of Chuck Taylor's with skulls, a full size too big but hey, for $4 I decided I would get them anyway. At first glance the toy shelves seemed to have the same zillion copies of High School Musical Trivia (redundant much?) , and a few other things that weren't too tempting. I was fondling the decorator pillows and lovely quilts, and telling myself a zillion reasons why we didn't need them, when Xavier lets out a screech of triumph. Some dusty back of the bin discovery - a Playmobil firefighting helicopter. That actually squirts water. For $2.

Don't judge me too harshly. It might have been possible to walk away, but my hope in doing so was shot when there were more sets - a fire engine, extra firefighters with all the safety gear, yet another helicopter, and a pirate ship. I may have blacked out. I filled my shopping cart.

It's another attack of Miniature Mania, although this is worse because I never even had access to all the boy-oriented toys. 3 inch tall pirates, with teeny swords? Playmobil rocks. It just does. And at 75% off? Please.

Then I found more Fiskar scissors for the preschool ($1) so we can get rid of the pairs we started with in 1958. And an awesome Schwinn bicycle helmet, in my daughter's size and colors, for $4 - nicer than the one I looked at last year for $20.

Total damage? $42 Guilt: priceless.

We did a ding-dong ditch of 3 of the Playmobil sets at a friend's house. Much better than a flaming bag of dog poo, I reckon. I let X have the helicopter and L her helmet. The pirate ship still founders in the trunk, listing to port. I haven't decided, and more importantly, X hasn't remembered.

Lest I put this all in the category of a small indiscretion, let's review the facts as presented. Even if it's from a thrift store, it's still stuff. Even worse, new stuff. Even at 75% off, I could have saved 100% by walking away. Buying it and giving it away is still buying, consuming, getting a fix, giving in to the high of the bargain hunt. And none of today's purchases met the necessity test.

Let's examine the fact I haven't yet presented but which weighs heavily on all of this.

Our cleaning lady, Natividad Hernandez, tearfully told me yesterday that she is returning (again) to Guatemala to take care of her ailing mother, and she's not sure for how long. Between her own health problems and taking many weeks off for visits, she's missed a lot of work and apparently quit her second job fairly recently. (My Spanish is minimal, as is her English, but we get by. Or at least I thought I understood.) Once she returns from helping her mother die, she'll be going straight to Chicago. To stay with her boyfriend, her stuff is en route already. All because her house got foreclosed and she was literally kicked to the curb this weekend. So I'm filling my house with crap while the woman who cleans it loses her own.

I feel like shit. As is only befitting. And I won't be going shopping for a while.

Pretty farked up

People that know me well realize I'm generally computer-averse, so the irony of yours truly doing a blog isn't lost on anyone. I am often at a loss when it comes to surfing like the "57 channels and nothing on" phenomenon. As a result, I've become a daily Fark.com user. I can stop anytime I want. Really.

Last week there was a link to a Cracked piece on all the well-intentioned efforts to minimize our negative impact on the world. Here's a link:

http://www.cracked.com/article_17084_5-ways-people-are-trying-save-world-that-dont-work.html

I'll run them down here, with a bit of their logic. I'm just reporting it folks, I haven't verified much but the links are there if you're so inclined. I'll put my comments, constructive or not, in italics.

5.) Organically grown food isn't healthier for the planet or for you. The addition of chemicals such as pesticides and fertilizers has increased food production significantly. Cancer rates have actually decreased because more people are able to afford more fruits and veggies. When there isn't enough organic food available locally, it's trucked in which means more fuel and emissions. And even though organic produce is only 1% of the food supply, it's responsible for 8% of the E.coli outbreaks.
I've rationalized buying organic milk, because of the chemicals concentrated in animal products. When pregnant, I also did organic butter and cheese. There's no way I could afford to purchase only organic. I do make an effort to buy local, in season.



4.)Vaccinations are to be avoided, to reduce risk of autism and SIDS.
The original study for this one has been thoroughly debunked, even by the researchers themselves. The preservative used in vaccines is not a dangerous form of mercury, and hasn't been used since 2001. Autism rates continue to climb. The incidence of SIDS has actually decreased 40% as vaccinations have increased.
This one has always bugged me, because the premise is that vaccinations are part of the social contract to protect against illness outbreaks that are definitely risky, vs. potential risks that have no hard science to support them.

3.) Recycling is a good way to preserve resources and protect the environment.
We recycle to use fewer resources and create less pollution, but it all depends if we count human labor as a resource. All those recycling trucks driving around create emissions, and the process of recycling is labor- and energy-intensive.
I think recycling alone isn't adequate, but buying goods made with recycled materials, minimally packaged is at least a step in the right direction. It also raises awareness and gives a concrete step, which is important.

2.)Antibacterial soaps help protect against illness and promote health.
All antibacterial agents are gradually building resistance and creating superbugs. The antibacterial agents contain chemicals that have potential effects on sex hormones. It's healthy to have some germs, to give the immune system a workout and create a stronger resistance. Studies have shown that using antibacterial soap doesn't work any better than regular handwashing with soap and hot water.
I've worked in healthcare settings and am all about the handwashing, but I can't believe that this is even in the "Save the World" list. That being said, have you noticed how few choices there are for liquid soap that isn't antibacterial?

1.)Purchasing carbon offsets is positive for the environment.
They are most useful to assuage guilt, and aren't monitored or regulated enough to actually be certain the company is actually reducing emissions as promised, or that they were going to reduce anyways.
This is one that makes me think environmental guilt is a bankable commodity more solid than anything in the stock market. I know the premise of this is meant to be good in the global citizen mindset, but it does smack of buying indulgences for transgressions committed.

A bit glib, but it is good to see the current mindset with a bit of a reality test. I'm a fan of not just doing something, but interventions that are actually effective. I'm also constantly frustrated by the ongoing criticism without any constructive suggestions or way to redress the imbalance. It's pretty easy to shoot down ideas and be destructive, but I wish it came with the responsibility to offer some creative ideas. Because we know it's all so much bad news and easy to get overwhelmed and give up. But there is something to be said for doing what you can, in small steps and good faith, if only to keep moving towards a goal. And being an ostrich is no longer an option - it's all available on the web in this blizzard of information (and oversharing) called the blogosphere.

Saved by Spending

Macroeconomics make me tired. I barely have the energy and interest to understand my own family's finances. And today's culture of fear and the accompanying spin makes it all the harder to weigh the arguments and decide for myself how my lil' ol' part of the economy should work for mutual benefit. Perhaps I'm still bitter about Bush and his "don't-let-the-terrorists-win! Go to the Mall!" peptalk, but I have to deal with that sometime.

I've been meaning to address this for a while... it's daunting to try to sort through the theories and models. This past Sunday's NYTimes Op-Ed had input from a bunch of economists. The main question: how long is this recession going to last? The answers varied considerably but each seemed plausible and well-reasoned: when you stop asking, when you start spending, the worst is over, the worst is years off, and my favorite: it depends. So all of this gets boiled down, AP style, and today's front pages of both the StarTribune and Pioneer Press featured articles screaming in large print that people who are saving are making things worse by taking that much more cash out of circulation, bringing down demand for goods and services, which translates into more job losses. Which then makes people save more / spend less because they are out of a job, which cycles on downward, ad nauseum.

So let me reason this out. The current economic maelstrom is because of a tightening in the credit market, in no small part because of too much defaulting on mortgage debt. And the housing and investment markets had inflated value and now that they are adjusted (Objects in mirror may be larger than they appear) we have less value to balance more debt. We got used to looking at our homes as "investments" rather than places to live. And we filled these larger -than-necessary homes with expensive everything, all purchased on credit, because so many of us accepted the myth that there was always more credit available and investment growth to look forward to, sizeable mortgage interest to deduct, another credit card to transfer to... Which now is impossible to prop up any more, and cutting costs and jobs is a daily atonement meant to appease the angry gods o' finance.

With me so far? I'm not really a "hard sciences" kinda gal. I prefer things intuitive, emotive, and squishy. For real info, you probably could read the entire Wall Street Journal each day. I'll wait here. No really, you go ahead.

Okay?

We got into this mess by spending too much and not saving enough. So people respond by saving more and spending less. And this makes it all worse. Huh?

Doesn't this feel a bit like blaming the victim? Yes, too much credit was overextended to businesses and individuals so there was no cushion. And now we're in free fall. As in splat.

When this sort of devaluation happened in the Greenspan days of dot.coms, it was considered a "natural correction" to "irrational exhuberance". (It turns out it was a harbinger of things to come. Hindsight doesn't help the portfolio, however. ) When the same logic is applied to the average family's need to "rightsize" their spending to their income, it becomes part of the solution and problem - simultaneously.

Who should be spending? Who should be saving? The people who can afford to, on both counts. And also, apparently, the people who can't afford to do either. What is tricky is determining which camp you're in, what you should be spending/saving, and if you can sustain that, and for how long... There is no right answer! This is an enormously complex economic problem with a lot of accompanying fears that span everything from dread of Tuesdays, people in suits, meetings, the mailman, 401k statements, the evening news. The result is that if you still have a job, you don't have the security. And if you don't have a job, you have lots of company.

Crystal clear? Me neither. I just know that even in so-called normal times, "shoulds" piss me off with all the implied judgement. And competing mandates are crazymaking. At the end of the day, you need to do the best you can with the hand you've been dealt - and be okay with it. Rinse, repeat.

That, at least, is worth banking on.

Aunt Rita and other shopping legends...

I've believed for some time now that I am incapable of passing up a bargain. It's an impulse disorder, not otherwise specified. I'm sure it will make the next DSM and be the "it" diagnosis, at least for a while.

Nature? Nurture? Yes.

In my family history, we have the beloved Aunt Rita, who does not go a day without shopping of some sort. She has befriended all the vendors at the swap meet/ farmer's market, and any bargains she picks up usually have a name and lifestory attached, free of charge. Aunt Rita is hugely generous but also loves a bargain, so what usually happens is she finds a really good deal, then figures out who to give it to. The thrill is in the (bargain) hunt.

Aunt Rita is a very accomplished shopper, too. No shop too big or too small. She has done Hong Kong without hyperventilating. If Canada had a Filene's, she would be elbowing her way through the most hardy shoppers. I remember one of her visits to our home fell around my birthday and my mother's - we're 4 days apart. I was granted the special privilege to go to the Boulevard Mall (shout out to Tonawanda, NY!) alone with Aunt Rita. This was pretty amazing in that she wanted me to pick out something for my gift, and without my parents there, I was less likely to feel constrained in my choices. Read: greed had free rein. I don't even remember now what I had chosen. What sticks in my mind is the moment when Aunt Rita paused in going through the clearance racks, held up a lovely teal blue dress, and pronounced it perfect for my mother. You were suddenly blinded by the brilliance of the insight, and there were angels singing to accompany this A-ha moment... Her tone of voice, flush with triumph. And when we brought it home and had Mom try it on - it was, in fact, perfect. Color, classic styling, cut, size, everything. It was made for her, at least it looked that way. She wore it for years, and always looked great. And Aunt Rita was able to see all of that in an instant.

Why was this so awe-inspiring? A brief rant on body image, to illustrate the point. We Fonfara women may shop off the rack, but have never been built accordingly. It's true. We're constitutionally ill-suited for anything with an actual waistline. And to call us top-heavy would be kind. Precariously perched is more like it. So pants that fit in the hips and thighs are nowhere close to the button-up zone, and tops that are accomodating to the bustline feature shoulder seams at half-mast. This takes a lot of the fun out of clothes shopping. Anyhow...

Mom and Aunt Rita came to visit me once in Minneapolis, shortly after the Mall of America opened. And we were on a mission. Sadly, my cousin's soon-to-be-ex took everything, leaving an empty house. With the inexplicable hurt, and feeling helpless, there was some solace in shopping. And shop we did. I remember a very long day, and an awful lot of shopping bags. Bedding and way way beyond - lots of bulky stuff. Aunt Rita, Mom and I finally made our way to the parking garage - fully loaded with at least 4 shopping bags each. People parted like the Red Sea while we walked down the hall, men looking horrified. Women were too busy reading the names on our bags to see where we scored such bargains to justify a shopping binge of this magnitude. We brought it all home and the pile was literally a cubic yard or more. It was legendary. We didn't talk about my cousin that much - what was there to say? But there was shopping to do, and we didn't flinch.