I'm not lazy, uninspired or off to another project - I'm on vacation! Since it's jam-packed activity and fun, there is no real impetus for accumulation. Although, the kids were really hoping for some souvenirs from the Kennedy Space Center today. They had especially cute space chimp stuffed toys, and for some reason I find myself explaining to my 6 year old why that's kind of depressing as so many of them didn't make it back. Next thing I know, we're talking about whether makeup merits animal testing or not... Yeah, it would be easier sometimes to whip out the plastic and buy a bag of good ol' fashioned shut up. Ah, well. I'm running on empty - battery as well as metaphorically - so I'll keep this short and sweet-ish.
Biggest annoyance so far: no bottle opener and the lovely local Land Shark Lager is not a twist off. I'm getting talented and resourceful, as is befitting the hardships at hand...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Hope, in small doses
I have to say that today's inauguration was awe-inspiring, seeing that many people there to celebrate history in the making. My 6 year old thought it was boring, but she has yet to develop appreciation of fine oratory skills.
From the high point to the low - a frantic call from Bob, stuck in a meeting where even more layoffs were being announced. Three middle managers, with years at MPR, joined the club. And more dire warnings of needing to cut costs 7% across the board. I don't have the math or the mettle for these equations. And I'm beginning to really hate Tuesdays.
Thinking that a 10% pay cut is better than a 100% one, Bob and I have decided the best thing to do is to ask his boss to "rightsize" his salary. Not sure if that will help, but it probably won't hurt. We're going on vacation next week (gig in FLA) and the added baggage we'll be taking: Is it more likely to layoff the guy who's off anyways? Shouldn't we be saving every penny? Fiddling while Rome burns has never sounded like a solid financial plan. Granted, Bob will be playing tango on the bandoneon, but the comparison is still apt.
Too busy today, between tours of the preschool, work at the group home, multiple playdates, etc., laundry, packing, going to Bob's gig - to even contemplate shopping. Usually before a vacation I am tempted to stock up on a few novel toys for the kids - 3 hour flights can seem so much longer with the chorus "I'm bored." I did manage to score an appalling amount of Polly Pockets complete with their squishy ridiculous clothes and miniscule shoes - for all of $4 at Unique thrift store last fall. I'll dig out some rarely-played with items for X, and might damn ourselves mightily with teeny Legos to step on, in bare feet.
Speaking of feet, X's recent growth spurt has left us with exactly one pair of shoes and one pair of boots. Not remotely tenable, I say to myself. Of course most people on Earth aspire to one pair of shoes... I would like to get a simple pair of sneakers, that don't light up or feature cartoon characters and way too much velcro. I always was a dreamer.
From the high point to the low - a frantic call from Bob, stuck in a meeting where even more layoffs were being announced. Three middle managers, with years at MPR, joined the club. And more dire warnings of needing to cut costs 7% across the board. I don't have the math or the mettle for these equations. And I'm beginning to really hate Tuesdays.
Thinking that a 10% pay cut is better than a 100% one, Bob and I have decided the best thing to do is to ask his boss to "rightsize" his salary. Not sure if that will help, but it probably won't hurt. We're going on vacation next week (gig in FLA) and the added baggage we'll be taking: Is it more likely to layoff the guy who's off anyways? Shouldn't we be saving every penny? Fiddling while Rome burns has never sounded like a solid financial plan. Granted, Bob will be playing tango on the bandoneon, but the comparison is still apt.
Too busy today, between tours of the preschool, work at the group home, multiple playdates, etc., laundry, packing, going to Bob's gig - to even contemplate shopping. Usually before a vacation I am tempted to stock up on a few novel toys for the kids - 3 hour flights can seem so much longer with the chorus "I'm bored." I did manage to score an appalling amount of Polly Pockets complete with their squishy ridiculous clothes and miniscule shoes - for all of $4 at Unique thrift store last fall. I'll dig out some rarely-played with items for X, and might damn ourselves mightily with teeny Legos to step on, in bare feet.
Speaking of feet, X's recent growth spurt has left us with exactly one pair of shoes and one pair of boots. Not remotely tenable, I say to myself. Of course most people on Earth aspire to one pair of shoes... I would like to get a simple pair of sneakers, that don't light up or feature cartoon characters and way too much velcro. I always was a dreamer.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Corrective Emotional Experiences, cont.
My fabulous Canadian cousins have always humbled me with the interest, knowledge and understanding on all things American. I would have to say that the average Canadian has more working knowledge of American politics than most Americans do. Sad, but true. Most of my family is Canadian, and I've spent lots of time there. I've always been interested in how Canadians and Americans share so much but have enough differences to make things entertaining, from a sociological perspective. i.e. Bowling for Columbine , which regardless of your views on Michael Moore or gun control, is mandatory purely for the thought-provoking value.
Here's a Link to a neat summary from the Globe and Mail about the impact of American's resurrected savings accounts, on a global scale. It's daunting to realize that going from a negative savings (that's living on credit, to you-n-me) to a measly .8% in 2008 is already having an impact in China and other major trading partners. And we are showing signs of returning to savings rates in the 7% or more range. Sounds good for us, right? Turns out the rest of the world was kinda getting used to US extravagance. And places like China give less of their GDP wealth to the actual workers, so the impact is magnified.
Remember all that talk about "irrational exuberance" in the stock market? That lead to a sort of entitlement on returns, such that if you weren't maxed out on your credit and way into the markets - you probably didn't get enough performance from 'your' money. The idea of saving , vs. investing or enjoying the high life, was actually laughable. As in: "You poor chump, you. That went out with GreenStamps!"
The only trickle-down economics I've ever seen at play with us little people has a lot more to do with perceived wealth and accumulation of all the toys that traditionally spell out "the good life". So not just a house, but a large one, with two luxury vehicles, a cabin, a boat, some combination of jetskis/snowmobiles/ motorcycles/ATV's etc. which in turn mandate working more to make all the payments so you actually have less time to enjoy your tricked-out leisure time. A few years ago, the average family was carrying $11,000 in credit card debt alone. Add in a bloated mortgage, car payments, student loans, and you wonder whether the plan was ever to pay it all off. The promotion a couple of years ago from one of the credit card companies was to name when you wanted it all gone, and they'd adjust your payments accordingly. Like it was a novel idea, managing to get out from under 20% a.p.r. I haven't looked up recent figures on credit card debt. I know enough to find it all crazy-making already.
I thought I was debt-savvy. I sat through high school business math with enough attention that the teacher (Mr. Lewis, RIP) would auction off the seat next to me during tests. But the first time I was closing on a house and we got to the all-important principle plus interest sum over 30 years, I had a near-Tourettes experience. I wish we all could sit down and DO THE MATH and then make some decisions. But it's ingrained: go try to buy a house or a car and they figure how much you can afford in monthly payments before they even show you options. So, yes, we've all been given plenty of rope to hang ourselves, but good. And I doubt you and I are big on the bailout list.
In this context, I'm living smaller but not necessarily for these reasons. We take so much for granted it's appalling. My sad little attempt is to be more mindful and maybe more frugal but that's not the main objective. So, yes, taking money out of circulation has global impact. Perhaps entitlement knows no international bounds either.
On the flip side, I took out my family and friends to lunch today and didn't feel a tad guilty. Spending time together is always a good thing, and supporting a fun neighborhood eatery that is both child-friendly and has excellent microbrews? That is truly money well-spent.
Here's a Link to a neat summary from the Globe and Mail about the impact of American's resurrected savings accounts, on a global scale. It's daunting to realize that going from a negative savings (that's living on credit, to you-n-me) to a measly .8% in 2008 is already having an impact in China and other major trading partners. And we are showing signs of returning to savings rates in the 7% or more range. Sounds good for us, right? Turns out the rest of the world was kinda getting used to US extravagance. And places like China give less of their GDP wealth to the actual workers, so the impact is magnified.
Remember all that talk about "irrational exuberance" in the stock market? That lead to a sort of entitlement on returns, such that if you weren't maxed out on your credit and way into the markets - you probably didn't get enough performance from 'your' money. The idea of saving , vs. investing or enjoying the high life, was actually laughable. As in: "You poor chump, you. That went out with GreenStamps!"
The only trickle-down economics I've ever seen at play with us little people has a lot more to do with perceived wealth and accumulation of all the toys that traditionally spell out "the good life". So not just a house, but a large one, with two luxury vehicles, a cabin, a boat, some combination of jetskis/snowmobiles/ motorcycles/ATV's etc. which in turn mandate working more to make all the payments so you actually have less time to enjoy your tricked-out leisure time. A few years ago, the average family was carrying $11,000 in credit card debt alone. Add in a bloated mortgage, car payments, student loans, and you wonder whether the plan was ever to pay it all off. The promotion a couple of years ago from one of the credit card companies was to name when you wanted it all gone, and they'd adjust your payments accordingly. Like it was a novel idea, managing to get out from under 20% a.p.r. I haven't looked up recent figures on credit card debt. I know enough to find it all crazy-making already.
I thought I was debt-savvy. I sat through high school business math with enough attention that the teacher (Mr. Lewis, RIP) would auction off the seat next to me during tests. But the first time I was closing on a house and we got to the all-important principle plus interest sum over 30 years, I had a near-Tourettes experience. I wish we all could sit down and DO THE MATH and then make some decisions. But it's ingrained: go try to buy a house or a car and they figure how much you can afford in monthly payments before they even show you options. So, yes, we've all been given plenty of rope to hang ourselves, but good. And I doubt you and I are big on the bailout list.
In this context, I'm living smaller but not necessarily for these reasons. We take so much for granted it's appalling. My sad little attempt is to be more mindful and maybe more frugal but that's not the main objective. So, yes, taking money out of circulation has global impact. Perhaps entitlement knows no international bounds either.
On the flip side, I took out my family and friends to lunch today and didn't feel a tad guilty. Spending time together is always a good thing, and supporting a fun neighborhood eatery that is both child-friendly and has excellent microbrews? That is truly money well-spent.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Don't put off 'til tomorrow what you can procrastinate right now
Okay, I'm a dork. Still trying to catch up from Christmas, energy and to-do list, etc. It seemed like all of a sudden I didn't have too much hanging over my head. Way to invite the fates in...
Some backstory:
This Sept. the kids and I volunteered at lovely Camp Knudson, as per usual. One of the activities was a hayride. And the farm was lousy with kittens, and I was feeling particularly weak-willed. Especially when the owner mentioned she'd already placed 50+ from the local farmers, and she was worried about the littlest one, as it was getting cold at night. This is how Spot joined our family. She's darned cute, and incredibly patient with the kids. She annoys our Zelda to no end, however, and that had seemed to improve. Until this morning, when she's making these unearthly noises - half purr, half yowl - and licking her butt. Alot. The signs were unmistakable, but I was still in denial. So I googled - and she is officially a Cat in Heat.
When we brought Spot back to the cities, we proceeded immediately to the vet. $200 later and this free kitten doesn't seem like such a bargain, especially since she was hosting a myriad of parasites and had to be contained for a few more days. And there were shots the next month. And some vague talk about getting her spayed, soonish. I had a bit of sticker shock - $270 was the estimate. I filed that in the eventuality column, and sort of spaced out. She's an indoor cat, I don't intend her to have kittens, yes I'll do the responsible thing, etc. She's just over 6 months old, and honestly I thought I had more time. That foray into denial has come to a screeching, yowling halt.
I read some more web pages, and one of the handy ways to deal with a cat in heat apparently involves a Q-tip and some quality time. Seriously. I'm not making this up. I shudder even as I write this. In what parallel world is getting my cat off an option??? Yeesh. But if she yowls all night every night for the next week, I may be revisiting that thought, as revolting as it seems.
A darling kitten? $0.
Vet costs: $270
Getting her fixed so you can sleep through the nite: priceless.
Some backstory:
This Sept. the kids and I volunteered at lovely Camp Knudson, as per usual. One of the activities was a hayride. And the farm was lousy with kittens, and I was feeling particularly weak-willed. Especially when the owner mentioned she'd already placed 50+ from the local farmers, and she was worried about the littlest one, as it was getting cold at night. This is how Spot joined our family. She's darned cute, and incredibly patient with the kids. She annoys our Zelda to no end, however, and that had seemed to improve. Until this morning, when she's making these unearthly noises - half purr, half yowl - and licking her butt. Alot. The signs were unmistakable, but I was still in denial. So I googled - and she is officially a Cat in Heat.
When we brought Spot back to the cities, we proceeded immediately to the vet. $200 later and this free kitten doesn't seem like such a bargain, especially since she was hosting a myriad of parasites and had to be contained for a few more days. And there were shots the next month. And some vague talk about getting her spayed, soonish. I had a bit of sticker shock - $270 was the estimate. I filed that in the eventuality column, and sort of spaced out. She's an indoor cat, I don't intend her to have kittens, yes I'll do the responsible thing, etc. She's just over 6 months old, and honestly I thought I had more time. That foray into denial has come to a screeching, yowling halt.
I read some more web pages, and one of the handy ways to deal with a cat in heat apparently involves a Q-tip and some quality time. Seriously. I'm not making this up. I shudder even as I write this. In what parallel world is getting my cat off an option??? Yeesh. But if she yowls all night every night for the next week, I may be revisiting that thought, as revolting as it seems.
A darling kitten? $0.
Vet costs: $270
Getting her fixed so you can sleep through the nite: priceless.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Off the Wagon
When I had first discussed the voluntary simplicity rules with my friend Tracey, we decided that the Salvation Army, mainly a place of used goods, was exempt. In the interests of full disclosure, the SA store in downtown Mpls is also where store samples go to die. Target, Macy's, Needless-Markups, etc. send their leftovers and also-rans. Sometimes you get an item that has a sticker on it, saying where it was made, how much it cost, and how much the eventual retail price would be. It's interesting to get a preview of what buyers are bringing to the stores, but more importantly you can find some good stuff at great prices. And the surprise factor is a lot of fun.
So, SA is almost as addictive as the old Bank's store in NE Mpls. which would have all the insurance liquidations (literally a fire sale) and a bizarre selection, usually at pretty good prices. Their best event, by far, was their "Garage Sale" each summer. Imagine a parking lot full of clothes racks, surrounded by some diehard shoppers wielding mismatched shopping carts, waiting for the opening. If you even leaned in or dared to touch an item, a large man with a bullhorn would mock you. Clothes at 90% off their marked prices, it was the closest I'd ever come to a game show shopping spree. Pure adrenaline. It was awesome, and deserves its' berth in the shopping Hall O' Fame.
I had a bit of a letdown this morning and was at lose ends, so my dear Toyota went on autopilot to SA. Initially, I was feeling pretty restrained as I perused at this week's offerings. Enjoying the "just looking" phase where you see what the possibilities are, but it's more of a flirtation. Am I the type of person who would artfully display this or that? Wouldn't this particular item finish the decor just perfectly? No, probably not. But for a moment, you have the possibility without the responsibility, and it is gratifying. It was touch-and-go (literally) in the linens aisle - lovely comforters and quilts for $20 - even throw pillows to match. Of course we don't need anything but this winter is all about burrowing for me. I think I get starved for colors, and I'm basically a fabric junkie.
I was doing well until the toys. Toys are my downfall, every time. Because they aren't for me. They have the potential of making roadtrips and other whiney times more livable. And my kids get invited to an awful lot of birthday parties, so I can justify stocking up. There was this I-spy game in a tube with tiny objects buried in brightly colored bits of plastic - even a beach theme! I have looked at these for several years, thought they were clever, etc. but couldn't bring myself to shell out the 20-odd bucks for one. Here it was - it even said prototype on it - for a measly $9. I folded like a cheap suit.
Once I took the first step off the wagon, gravity took over. I found myself back in linens with a set of 4 placemats in my hands ($3). I was able to resist the clothes, although we could always use kids pajamas. And then, sigh, back to toys: A lovely toy horse for my friend's kids. A rocket that whistled. A teddy bear that looks passably similar to my daughter's beloved BearBear, so perhaps she can transition before the poor thing falls apart. Total damage: $26.85. I even used cash. All of it.
The guilt was immediate - even though this was technically in-bounds. As with so much these days, the appearance of impropriety is enough to call in the ethics squad.
When I got to preschool to pick up my son, I told on myself immediately. Hours later, I still feel ... icky (or the Minnesotan equivalent, which is "ishy"). I knew I went shopping because I was a bit down, and now I feel worse. The trick is to have minor forays into RetailLand, but not to set up camp. Or to borrow my other favorite parallel, overindulging on a dessert doesn't mean you get to write the diet off as a failure and eat accordingly...
I may be a work in progress but at least I'll always have material!
So, SA is almost as addictive as the old Bank's store in NE Mpls. which would have all the insurance liquidations (literally a fire sale) and a bizarre selection, usually at pretty good prices. Their best event, by far, was their "Garage Sale" each summer. Imagine a parking lot full of clothes racks, surrounded by some diehard shoppers wielding mismatched shopping carts, waiting for the opening. If you even leaned in or dared to touch an item, a large man with a bullhorn would mock you. Clothes at 90% off their marked prices, it was the closest I'd ever come to a game show shopping spree. Pure adrenaline. It was awesome, and deserves its' berth in the shopping Hall O' Fame.
I had a bit of a letdown this morning and was at lose ends, so my dear Toyota went on autopilot to SA. Initially, I was feeling pretty restrained as I perused at this week's offerings. Enjoying the "just looking" phase where you see what the possibilities are, but it's more of a flirtation. Am I the type of person who would artfully display this or that? Wouldn't this particular item finish the decor just perfectly? No, probably not. But for a moment, you have the possibility without the responsibility, and it is gratifying. It was touch-and-go (literally) in the linens aisle - lovely comforters and quilts for $20 - even throw pillows to match. Of course we don't need anything but this winter is all about burrowing for me. I think I get starved for colors, and I'm basically a fabric junkie.
I was doing well until the toys. Toys are my downfall, every time. Because they aren't for me. They have the potential of making roadtrips and other whiney times more livable. And my kids get invited to an awful lot of birthday parties, so I can justify stocking up. There was this I-spy game in a tube with tiny objects buried in brightly colored bits of plastic - even a beach theme! I have looked at these for several years, thought they were clever, etc. but couldn't bring myself to shell out the 20-odd bucks for one. Here it was - it even said prototype on it - for a measly $9. I folded like a cheap suit.
Once I took the first step off the wagon, gravity took over. I found myself back in linens with a set of 4 placemats in my hands ($3). I was able to resist the clothes, although we could always use kids pajamas. And then, sigh, back to toys: A lovely toy horse for my friend's kids. A rocket that whistled. A teddy bear that looks passably similar to my daughter's beloved BearBear, so perhaps she can transition before the poor thing falls apart. Total damage: $26.85. I even used cash. All of it.
The guilt was immediate - even though this was technically in-bounds. As with so much these days, the appearance of impropriety is enough to call in the ethics squad.
When I got to preschool to pick up my son, I told on myself immediately. Hours later, I still feel ... icky (or the Minnesotan equivalent, which is "ishy"). I knew I went shopping because I was a bit down, and now I feel worse. The trick is to have minor forays into RetailLand, but not to set up camp. Or to borrow my other favorite parallel, overindulging on a dessert doesn't mean you get to write the diet off as a failure and eat accordingly...
I may be a work in progress but at least I'll always have material!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Discouragement
It's unbelievably cold today and not conducive to anything but hibernation. Flannel sheets, flannel pajamas - then you're literally stuck in bed. Today has been cancelled due to lack of interest.
So perhaps driving right past the awesome thrift store (Unique, in St. Paul) wasn't that much of an accomplishment after all. At the time, though, it felt like a good decision. I realized that doing this year of simplicity/no new crap really has no bearing on my shopping compulsions. It just limits where I can shop, not the more important why. Hopefully that sense will evolve as well.
I did feel a trifle guilty at the grocery store, when I picked up two folders as our 1st grader's have gone MIA. So I did a little self-talk: it's school supplies after all. But later when I got home and went through the pile of paperwork and filing I've been avoiding for months, sure enough - two brand new folders. Sigh.
Isn't that rather Zen? All things needed are already provided, etc. Or on a more earthy note, I have so much crap I can't keep track of it all. I keep feeling that I'm doing this process backwards - that first I should pare down what I already have, then evaluate the remaining wants vs. needs. But hopefully I will be more aware of the acquisitions, at least.
I used to have a rule that for each thing brought/bought, TWO similar items had to go. And I never did notice a decrease in the net stuff. Maybe it's like Gremlins, multiplying because I mistakenly spilled something or fed my habitual shopping beastie after midnite. It's ironic because I used to think myself non-materialistic, in that self-satisfied way. My big a-ha moment was this summer, when I got the call from Bob that we'd been robbed and all of my jewelry was gone. I wouldn't describe myself as high maintenance or particularly bejewelled. But when I sat down to try to create a list of all that was missing - family heirlooms, things purchased on various trips, pieces I'd made in my foray into silver clay, special pieces I was looking forward to leaving to my daughter - it was overwhelmingly emotional. Mostly the sentimental stuff and things that couldn't be replaced. So perhaps it's not about the materialism after all.
Do yourself a favor: go thru your jewelry box, put it all on the flatbed scanner, and send copies to trusted folks. Check your insurance riders too. It may just be stuff (already melted down into unsentimental blobs of gold and silver somewhere) but getting more than token reimbursement would have taken the sting out a bit.
So perhaps driving right past the awesome thrift store (Unique, in St. Paul) wasn't that much of an accomplishment after all. At the time, though, it felt like a good decision. I realized that doing this year of simplicity/no new crap really has no bearing on my shopping compulsions. It just limits where I can shop, not the more important why. Hopefully that sense will evolve as well.
I did feel a trifle guilty at the grocery store, when I picked up two folders as our 1st grader's have gone MIA. So I did a little self-talk: it's school supplies after all. But later when I got home and went through the pile of paperwork and filing I've been avoiding for months, sure enough - two brand new folders. Sigh.
Isn't that rather Zen? All things needed are already provided, etc. Or on a more earthy note, I have so much crap I can't keep track of it all. I keep feeling that I'm doing this process backwards - that first I should pare down what I already have, then evaluate the remaining wants vs. needs. But hopefully I will be more aware of the acquisitions, at least.
I used to have a rule that for each thing brought/bought, TWO similar items had to go. And I never did notice a decrease in the net stuff. Maybe it's like Gremlins, multiplying because I mistakenly spilled something or fed my habitual shopping beastie after midnite. It's ironic because I used to think myself non-materialistic, in that self-satisfied way. My big a-ha moment was this summer, when I got the call from Bob that we'd been robbed and all of my jewelry was gone. I wouldn't describe myself as high maintenance or particularly bejewelled. But when I sat down to try to create a list of all that was missing - family heirlooms, things purchased on various trips, pieces I'd made in my foray into silver clay, special pieces I was looking forward to leaving to my daughter - it was overwhelmingly emotional. Mostly the sentimental stuff and things that couldn't be replaced. So perhaps it's not about the materialism after all.
Do yourself a favor: go thru your jewelry box, put it all on the flatbed scanner, and send copies to trusted folks. Check your insurance riders too. It may just be stuff (already melted down into unsentimental blobs of gold and silver somewhere) but getting more than token reimbursement would have taken the sting out a bit.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Wake UPS Call
I was sitting in our dining room when I heard the familiar rumble and saw the UPS truck, blowing through the stop sign like it usually does. For a brief second my heart sped up and I was thinking "Maybe there's something for me!" Like a Pavlovian response. And then my rational mind kicked in, but for a brief second I was stuck in "More stuff? Cool!" mode.
Where does this response come from? As a stay-at-home (mostly) mom, receiving things via mail kicks in early, with the zillion baby presents that flood in from family out of state. I saw Pat the Postman and our cute UPS guy more often than my girlfriends. It was a respite, a pick-me-up, a way to mark the time. (Having a new baby in Feb. in MN is especially isolating, on top of the new mom lethargy.) And for Christmas presents? My kids think Santa works at Amazon.com.
Clearly, if I'm not doing online shopping, we'll be getting less deliveries. No more mindless web-shopping at 3 am for me. But hey - there's always Ebay! Right? As long as it's used... Already looking for technicalities and escape clauses; not a great sign.
( A practical aside, I must say that Ebay and Etsy are great concepts, but often completely overwhelming. Even Craig's List and Freecycle are too much work to peruse. Hopefully I'll be able to narrow down what I'm shopping for and it will be more successful. And after today's frigid temperatures, I'm jonesing for some boots that will actually keep adequate circulation in my toes for more than 5 minutes. I know, I ask for a lot.)
Where does this response come from? As a stay-at-home (mostly) mom, receiving things via mail kicks in early, with the zillion baby presents that flood in from family out of state. I saw Pat the Postman and our cute UPS guy more often than my girlfriends. It was a respite, a pick-me-up, a way to mark the time. (Having a new baby in Feb. in MN is especially isolating, on top of the new mom lethargy.) And for Christmas presents? My kids think Santa works at Amazon.com.
Clearly, if I'm not doing online shopping, we'll be getting less deliveries. No more mindless web-shopping at 3 am for me. But hey - there's always Ebay! Right? As long as it's used... Already looking for technicalities and escape clauses; not a great sign.
( A practical aside, I must say that Ebay and Etsy are great concepts, but often completely overwhelming. Even Craig's List and Freecycle are too much work to peruse. Hopefully I'll be able to narrow down what I'm shopping for and it will be more successful. And after today's frigid temperatures, I'm jonesing for some boots that will actually keep adequate circulation in my toes for more than 5 minutes. I know, I ask for a lot.)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Priorities
Bob told me that he would be surprised if he made it thorough the year without getting laid off. (Whatever sound they make in the cartoon strips when someone gets socked in the gut, insert here.) It's not that this is a new or by any means unique worry, but it sure feels differently when possibility evolves into probability. From vanity project to life skill, in record time. I would rapidly lose the smug satisfaction of breaking my spending compulsions, and chafe at the restrictions - even if the day to day decisions were the same. A bit more fiscal discipline is never a bad thing, but... it's voluntary simplicity, remember? Even if this becomes more of a lifeskill than a year-long project, being responsible about spending decisions for the extras doesn't quite translate into wondering where the funds for mortgage, health insurance and food will come from. It makes me worry enough to dangle participles, which is never a good sign.
The ubiquitous "they" state that any stressor is made more manageable by knowing how long it will last. Think about years of ridiculous hours, huge challenges with innumerable bosses and clients, never have enough money or sleep or time to do a job you feel good about. That would be medical school, which is a brutal 7 years, but with an end date and a degree. It's the not knowing that produces the majority of worry, even if the circumstances are the same. I think this is why so many of the news commentators are trying desperately to find a model and a timeline for our present Good-Enough Depression. Even if they're wrong, it's something.
I read something several weeks ago about the so-called Lipstick Index. Apparently the only recession-proof sector of the economy is health and beauty - and we're not talking merely Walgreens - more about Macy's wrinkle cream industry. Here's a similar article that talks about spending intentions. Check it out at:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090113/lf_afp/lifestylefinanceeconomyfashion_20090113061800
So, is it a primal thing? Do we really prioritize beauty during unsure times, as if being attractive is a bankable commodity? Or is it a cheap, feel-good attempt? The microcosm of makeup is probably more reassuring than macroeconomics, if only for the comfort of the ritual. It's like buying hope, but with more choices. Matte? Glossy? Sparkly? It may wear off, but it's a good optimistic gesture.
The ubiquitous "they" state that any stressor is made more manageable by knowing how long it will last. Think about years of ridiculous hours, huge challenges with innumerable bosses and clients, never have enough money or sleep or time to do a job you feel good about. That would be medical school, which is a brutal 7 years, but with an end date and a degree. It's the not knowing that produces the majority of worry, even if the circumstances are the same. I think this is why so many of the news commentators are trying desperately to find a model and a timeline for our present Good-Enough Depression. Even if they're wrong, it's something.
I read something several weeks ago about the so-called Lipstick Index. Apparently the only recession-proof sector of the economy is health and beauty - and we're not talking merely Walgreens - more about Macy's wrinkle cream industry. Here's a similar article that talks about spending intentions. Check it out at:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090113/lf_afp/lifestylefinanceeconomyfashion_20090113061800
So, is it a primal thing? Do we really prioritize beauty during unsure times, as if being attractive is a bankable commodity? Or is it a cheap, feel-good attempt? The microcosm of makeup is probably more reassuring than macroeconomics, if only for the comfort of the ritual. It's like buying hope, but with more choices. Matte? Glossy? Sparkly? It may wear off, but it's a good optimistic gesture.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Goodwill to All
We dropped off a trunkload of clothes and kitchen stuff at Goodwill today, and I thought I'd go inside to check out what was available. This should have been a warning - there wasn't anything in particular I needed - oh, wait! Boots - yeah, that's it.... "Just looking" usually leads me to find something worth buying... So an hour later, I check out with an R/C car for X, art stickers for L, 4 rolls of gift wrap, 3 books, a storage bin with lid, 4 pairs of school pants, 2 pairs of stretch pants (everything is now capri length on that girl; she's like a flamingo with hair) a nice blouse and a gorgeous wool cardigan for yours truly. All this for $57.00, as a bunch of stuff was half off. And most of it looks brand new. To temper my enthusiasm, I need to remember I went in there solely for the purpose of looking for winter boots for us. As snow was getting knee-high on my preschooler, it seemed a pressing concern.
So - second hand or not - I am still capable of a shopping spree. I guess that's not particularly a good thing, but I look at my parallel experience of dieting - go without for too long and you feel deprived, justifying a binge but having no ability to reach satiety. Mindful is good, but only if you're in your right mind.
So - second hand or not - I am still capable of a shopping spree. I guess that's not particularly a good thing, but I look at my parallel experience of dieting - go without for too long and you feel deprived, justifying a binge but having no ability to reach satiety. Mindful is good, but only if you're in your right mind.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
'nuff said
I was surprised to learn that my friend Pam - who I haven't spent quality time with in way too long - is trying the voluntary simplicity route this year as well. It's encouraging to hear thoughts, share tips, and get support. She said that it's not saving her any money as yet, and she draws the line at used shoes. (I'm more apt to say - how used???) And both of us will be buying brand new underwear, unapologetically.
Does this qualify as a movement, yet? Why this year? Is it because everyone is nervous about the disappearing 401k and the tenuous job? Or did we cut back on spending for Christmas this past season and noticed no discernable drop in quality of life so hey - let's see how far we can take it?
I see a parallel with the gas prices and the impact on driving habits. I think the most I paid all year was $4.30 a gallon during our summer road trip. And all of the sudden you'd see people second-guessing their SUVs, carpooling, hypermiling, buying more efficient cars, etc. The Geo Metro is now sought-sfter as an efficient, cheap car to run & maintain. I had one for 10 years. I loved it, everyone else just shook their collective heads. Gas prices started to drop in the fall as demand decreased, and call me a cynic but I thought they were kept artificially low in the hopes of making voters a bit less angry. This week I paid $1.89 a gallon. But if the drop in SUV sales and increased interest in electric cars is any indicator - there has been a significant correction in our endless-oil delusions.
Nice rant, but how does it all connect? Once people start to realize that buying things doesn't help you feel secure - and buying on credit actually makes you less secure - there is a decrease in demand. I think that attempts to strictly limit purchases are an extreme response to a needed correction in our thinking as a over-materialistic society. Maybe the retirement fund is half of what it was, and there are no bonuses or raises this year, and everything costs more - but you're one of the lucky ones who still has a job. Doesn't it seem tasteless to blithely spend as always? Insecurity, a show of fraternal support, hoping to save more of a cushion for when your pink slip comes up - it seems to all add up to well, less.
Less is more. Thrift is the new black. Fashionistas make way for recessionistas. Are we soon to be consumed by our lack of consumption? I believe the pendulum will swing back to a more balanced approach, but not for a while. And hopefully I will have developed a more insightful understanding of the role purchasing stuff - or the lack 0f, thereof - has in my perceived wellness. I've got all year.
Does this qualify as a movement, yet? Why this year? Is it because everyone is nervous about the disappearing 401k and the tenuous job? Or did we cut back on spending for Christmas this past season and noticed no discernable drop in quality of life so hey - let's see how far we can take it?
I see a parallel with the gas prices and the impact on driving habits. I think the most I paid all year was $4.30 a gallon during our summer road trip. And all of the sudden you'd see people second-guessing their SUVs, carpooling, hypermiling, buying more efficient cars, etc. The Geo Metro is now sought-sfter as an efficient, cheap car to run & maintain. I had one for 10 years. I loved it, everyone else just shook their collective heads. Gas prices started to drop in the fall as demand decreased, and call me a cynic but I thought they were kept artificially low in the hopes of making voters a bit less angry. This week I paid $1.89 a gallon. But if the drop in SUV sales and increased interest in electric cars is any indicator - there has been a significant correction in our endless-oil delusions.
Nice rant, but how does it all connect? Once people start to realize that buying things doesn't help you feel secure - and buying on credit actually makes you less secure - there is a decrease in demand. I think that attempts to strictly limit purchases are an extreme response to a needed correction in our thinking as a over-materialistic society. Maybe the retirement fund is half of what it was, and there are no bonuses or raises this year, and everything costs more - but you're one of the lucky ones who still has a job. Doesn't it seem tasteless to blithely spend as always? Insecurity, a show of fraternal support, hoping to save more of a cushion for when your pink slip comes up - it seems to all add up to well, less.
Less is more. Thrift is the new black. Fashionistas make way for recessionistas. Are we soon to be consumed by our lack of consumption? I believe the pendulum will swing back to a more balanced approach, but not for a while. And hopefully I will have developed a more insightful understanding of the role purchasing stuff - or the lack 0f, thereof - has in my perceived wellness. I've got all year.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
I'm just running out for milk...
... it may take me a few years to find my way home. Tempting, but no. This of course would be a great time for a little retail therapy. How many times have you heard the justification "Well, it's cheaper than therapy!" I mean from people other than me. ..
Shopping as an experience - rather than necessity - seems more common than I realized. It's ingrained early. My children are showing enormous amounts of brand loyalty already, and they only watch public television. Think back to those teen years, before the era of coffee shops but after the roller rinks closed. What was there to do? A movie, perhaps, if you had the money. Cruising the Elmwood strip, if one of you was driving a reasonably cool car. But to kill any number of hours on a budget, you just can't beat hanging out at the mall. Going shopping and being social were closely entertwined during those formative years. I still feel weird going to the mall by myself. I do the nervous talking thing with over-friendly salesclerks, and I'm aware they feel sorry for me.
The other major theme about shopping as an experience is that it's a hopeful one. If only I had just perfect festive plates and matching ice-bucket, I'd be sure to entertain more. My life would be easier with a purse with the right configuration of pockets. Buying fabric and yarn is a way of endorsing your eventual creativity, without actually doing anything. I have more supplies and inspiration than I'll ever get to in a lifetime. It's true. This year, however, I hope to put a dent in the stockpiles and avoid accumulating more. Plus, I'll have to look at making presents. For some reason people are more forgiving of a handmade item than a second-hand one. Show of hands: have you regifted ever? Was it only when you thought you could do it undetected??? I'm proud to be cheap when procuring for myself or my family, but I'd always like to be considered generous and thoughtful around gift giving. Of course some folks are impossible to buy for, as they already have all the best of whatever they might need, including impeccable taste. Daunting enough to dampen the Christmas spirit in people not the least bit Grinchy.
I know that this year I enjoyed Christmas more because I had most of the buying done, and even mailed off a few packages prior to Thanksgiving. I had been buying things throughout the year, and I'm sure I might have done well at the sales, but just being done was even better. Of course I have this genetic flaw of buying things and hiding them too well, or plain forgetting about them, and purchasing too much. (When I was 20 my mom gave me the nicest selection of kids books she had unearthed from her closet.) So, partly to keep me honest and aware of purchases, I'm going to make an effort to list what I've bought/spent.
Hawthorne Effect disclaimer: Observing phenomena tends to change it. This means that trying to be accountable in the blogosphere will make me more aware of my buying behavior enough to motivate me to be especially thrifty. (brave, loyal... etc.) Hence the thinking behind keeping a record of exercise and dietary intake, which I will never do. I like the temporary amnesia that allows me a second helping because I forgot about the Ben n' Jerry Incident earlier. That's wrong why?
Shopping as an experience - rather than necessity - seems more common than I realized. It's ingrained early. My children are showing enormous amounts of brand loyalty already, and they only watch public television. Think back to those teen years, before the era of coffee shops but after the roller rinks closed. What was there to do? A movie, perhaps, if you had the money. Cruising the Elmwood strip, if one of you was driving a reasonably cool car. But to kill any number of hours on a budget, you just can't beat hanging out at the mall. Going shopping and being social were closely entertwined during those formative years. I still feel weird going to the mall by myself. I do the nervous talking thing with over-friendly salesclerks, and I'm aware they feel sorry for me.
The other major theme about shopping as an experience is that it's a hopeful one. If only I had just perfect festive plates and matching ice-bucket, I'd be sure to entertain more. My life would be easier with a purse with the right configuration of pockets. Buying fabric and yarn is a way of endorsing your eventual creativity, without actually doing anything. I have more supplies and inspiration than I'll ever get to in a lifetime. It's true. This year, however, I hope to put a dent in the stockpiles and avoid accumulating more. Plus, I'll have to look at making presents. For some reason people are more forgiving of a handmade item than a second-hand one. Show of hands: have you regifted ever? Was it only when you thought you could do it undetected??? I'm proud to be cheap when procuring for myself or my family, but I'd always like to be considered generous and thoughtful around gift giving. Of course some folks are impossible to buy for, as they already have all the best of whatever they might need, including impeccable taste. Daunting enough to dampen the Christmas spirit in people not the least bit Grinchy.
I know that this year I enjoyed Christmas more because I had most of the buying done, and even mailed off a few packages prior to Thanksgiving. I had been buying things throughout the year, and I'm sure I might have done well at the sales, but just being done was even better. Of course I have this genetic flaw of buying things and hiding them too well, or plain forgetting about them, and purchasing too much. (When I was 20 my mom gave me the nicest selection of kids books she had unearthed from her closet.) So, partly to keep me honest and aware of purchases, I'm going to make an effort to list what I've bought/spent.
Hawthorne Effect disclaimer: Observing phenomena tends to change it. This means that trying to be accountable in the blogosphere will make me more aware of my buying behavior enough to motivate me to be especially thrifty. (brave, loyal... etc.) Hence the thinking behind keeping a record of exercise and dietary intake, which I will never do. I like the temporary amnesia that allows me a second helping because I forgot about the Ben n' Jerry Incident earlier. That's wrong why?
Friday, January 9, 2009
Conversations, some actually in real time...
The interesting process this week has been telling people my Big Plan to Live Small. My stepfather (Uncle Dad, as he was once an uncle but married my mom so now we've got the Deliverance theme going...) immediately responded with "That's not going to help the economy, you know." And, that's true. But I don't know if it's going to be a negative impact either. I wasn't spending a huge amount, and we were living small-ish before. Or so I tell myself, with apparent smugness, as I look at our small urban house (new windows and furnace), fuel-efficient cars, minimal commutes, little debt, and general aspirations toward non-materialistic lives. So perhaps this isn't too drastic, just a bit rigid. And I've had several people wonder if I can actually go a year without buying new - which of course makes me more stubbornly determined. Ornery, even.
Bob has been mostly supportive, and is signing on as well, although we haven't talked specifics as yet. He was hoping that I would exclude clothing purchases for me, as apparently I am too frumpy and chances are that won't improve much. (This is the time of the year where I hate my wardrobe anyways and notice all the cute stuff I can't fit into anymore, so I'm kind of sensitive to criticism. I'm funny that way. ) Yet I'm wearing my favorite outfit, bought this fall at ValuVillage, and I feel pretty good about my ability to find some decent clothes for all of us second hand. Or at least I did, until he sent me this article:
http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-thrift2-2009jan02,0,2083247.story
In a nutshell, due to the recent spate of lead found in children's toys, some far-reaching federal reforms have been put in place that mandate lead testing on all sorts of items, including used children's clothing - effective this February. Initially, I heard about the rules being so rigid that small craftspersons wouldn't be able to make even natural material toys without having to pay ridiculous amounts for lead testing, but I hadn't realized the reforms would impact the second-hand sector as well. So the best intentions have created some pretty ugly consequences - with complicance impossible, thrift stores may simply discard tons of clothing as it would be illegal to sell it without being tested for lead. (I know you're thinking lead? In clothes? Not a huge problem, although the odd sparkly paint and metal embellishments have been found to contain lead. There was a boy in Minnesota who died from lead poisoning after ingesting a charm from a pair of sneakers - just last year.)
Considering the number of layoffs just this week and the lack of living wage jobs, I'd have to say that thrift and consignment stores are probably the only retail growth opportunity left. The timing for this rule couldn't be worse. It's worth writing your representatives about. I'm planning on requesting that they push back the timeline for implementing the rules until the repercussions can be worked out.
As to the ongoing 'cheap vs. idealistic?', 'vanity project vs. lifechange?' debates on this endeavor - it will have to wait for another day. And it might just take me all year to figure that one out.
Bob has been mostly supportive, and is signing on as well, although we haven't talked specifics as yet. He was hoping that I would exclude clothing purchases for me, as apparently I am too frumpy and chances are that won't improve much. (This is the time of the year where I hate my wardrobe anyways and notice all the cute stuff I can't fit into anymore, so I'm kind of sensitive to criticism. I'm funny that way. ) Yet I'm wearing my favorite outfit, bought this fall at ValuVillage, and I feel pretty good about my ability to find some decent clothes for all of us second hand. Or at least I did, until he sent me this article:
http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-thrift2-2009jan02,0,2083247.story
In a nutshell, due to the recent spate of lead found in children's toys, some far-reaching federal reforms have been put in place that mandate lead testing on all sorts of items, including used children's clothing - effective this February. Initially, I heard about the rules being so rigid that small craftspersons wouldn't be able to make even natural material toys without having to pay ridiculous amounts for lead testing, but I hadn't realized the reforms would impact the second-hand sector as well. So the best intentions have created some pretty ugly consequences - with complicance impossible, thrift stores may simply discard tons of clothing as it would be illegal to sell it without being tested for lead. (I know you're thinking lead? In clothes? Not a huge problem, although the odd sparkly paint and metal embellishments have been found to contain lead. There was a boy in Minnesota who died from lead poisoning after ingesting a charm from a pair of sneakers - just last year.)
Considering the number of layoffs just this week and the lack of living wage jobs, I'd have to say that thrift and consignment stores are probably the only retail growth opportunity left. The timing for this rule couldn't be worse. It's worth writing your representatives about. I'm planning on requesting that they push back the timeline for implementing the rules until the repercussions can be worked out.
As to the ongoing 'cheap vs. idealistic?', 'vanity project vs. lifechange?' debates on this endeavor - it will have to wait for another day. And it might just take me all year to figure that one out.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Honesty is painful...
I was actually busy with work today - 3 clients and 2 diagnostics - and it reminded me how it was when I was working fulltime. Generally, I barely had time for lunch or of other necessities - much less shopping for sport. I was a hospice social worker for 4 1/2 years, and I worked until my second child was born and the math was prohibitive. Social work salary and child care expenses were about $100 apart per month - and it just wasn't doable. The irony is that when I talk about returning to work, even full time, I tell people I just wanted to be able to go to the bathroom by myself. But my point - there's one here somewhere - is that shopping when you're really stretched between home and work is more of a survival thing. What with little time for procuring family necessities, comparison shopping is a luxury. And the increased amounts of time and energy involved in second-hand shopping simply isn't available.
Which is my roundabout way of calling the question - is this a self-indulgent quest? A vanity project? It's called voluntary simplicity for a reason. If you're forced into it, they just call you poor.
Which is my roundabout way of calling the question - is this a self-indulgent quest? A vanity project? It's called voluntary simplicity for a reason. If you're forced into it, they just call you poor.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Wait, what?
This morning I took Xavier, Jake, and an imaginary chipmunk to the Minnesota Zoo - which has a large part to play in my quest for sanity during the winter here. We had a great time, but after lunch I noticed Xavier was missing one of his all-time favorite dinosaur mittens. So we revisited many of the exhibits playing I Spy, but at an aerobic pace. As I'm dragging the boys, I'm berating myself for not just letting it go. It's a huge zoo, we've been all over, whininess is rapidly approaching, and it is JUST a mitten. So of course I'm ready to give it up, just when we find it approximately 3 feet from where I noticed it was missing in the first place. Echoes of Mom - "Where did you see it last???" After our mandatory popcorn stop, we're driving home and it occurs to me that no, it wouldn't have been that easy to replace errant mittens this time of year because Target is only carrying swimsuits now. And oh wait - I can't just run into Target. I'd first have to make the Obligatory Tour of Second-Hand Stores, which would most likely not have any mittens left either. So now it sets in, that this whole endeavor will be a bit more complicated than I'd thought. Of course there is the available cop-out: a pair of mittens - or at least 5 right-handed ones - is a necessity for a Minnesota winter. But not until I've made a good faith effort to find them used.
I'll have to be incredibly honest in my posts, and commit to self-disclosure any time I need to purchase items new. I now have a bit of a following (friends who respond to guilt trips and shameless self-promotion) so the accountability factor is there. I really need to be mindful of the decision-making process that has been integrated so smoothly into my consuming patterns I don't even register it happening.
My wonderful and wise friend Rebecca wrote a fabulous e-mail in which she encouraged me to include borrowing and regifting in my bag of reduce/reuse/recycle tricks. (not borrowing and then regifting the same item, as that would be awkward...) She has been living simply for years now, partly because as a stay at home mom, there's less income available to the family. Her and I share an important but errant mindset: if we're not making the money, we aren't justified in spending it. We both identify this as wrong, as taking care of our kids is a family project, just not a wage-earning one. But there's part of me that doesn't believe my work is on the same level as my husband's, due mainly to that pesky absence of a paycheck. Again - this is one of those places where rational mind and emotional mind beg to differ. For some reason it's hard to be a feminist and a stay-at-home mom without the internal discord around finances. And woe to anyone else who says I'm not working! Hapless survey telemarketers that ask my occupation and then say "So you don't work, then?" always get a lecture. But in the self-evaluation, I'm not quite as clear as all that. Repeat after me: "It's OUR money." ten times really fast. Believing it though, takes a bit more than that, at least in my world.
Just as I'm ready to sign off for today, as if on cue, Xavier comes into the room saying "Can you get money so we can go to Target and buy things?" Specifically, a new truck. When asked why he needs one, he says the one that has a tractor is broken so we have to get a new one. Of course the tractor/trailer combination in question was a poor purchasing decision from last fall that still irks me. It was so securely fastened in its' overpackaging - wire and plastic thingys - that I actually broke the damn thing as I was getting it out of the package. My frustration tolerance is particularly low with all things mechanical - no Bob, I can't look at it as a fun challenge - and I was more than miffed. So here's another silver lining to buying used: none of that incredibly annoying packaging.
As I was thanking the Gods of Childhood Development for short attention spans, Xavier comes back in the room asking "Where's you Target card, Mom?" He's 4, dammit, and I haven't had one for over a year, rarely use store credit cards, etc. (<> ). From the mouths of babes indeed.
I'll have to be incredibly honest in my posts, and commit to self-disclosure any time I need to purchase items new. I now have a bit of a following (friends who respond to guilt trips and shameless self-promotion) so the accountability factor is there. I really need to be mindful of the decision-making process that has been integrated so smoothly into my consuming patterns I don't even register it happening.
My wonderful and wise friend Rebecca wrote a fabulous e-mail in which she encouraged me to include borrowing and regifting in my bag of reduce/reuse/recycle tricks. (not borrowing and then regifting the same item, as that would be awkward...) She has been living simply for years now, partly because as a stay at home mom, there's less income available to the family. Her and I share an important but errant mindset: if we're not making the money, we aren't justified in spending it. We both identify this as wrong, as taking care of our kids is a family project, just not a wage-earning one. But there's part of me that doesn't believe my work is on the same level as my husband's, due mainly to that pesky absence of a paycheck. Again - this is one of those places where rational mind and emotional mind beg to differ. For some reason it's hard to be a feminist and a stay-at-home mom without the internal discord around finances. And woe to anyone else who says I'm not working! Hapless survey telemarketers that ask my occupation and then say "So you don't work, then?" always get a lecture. But in the self-evaluation, I'm not quite as clear as all that. Repeat after me: "It's OUR money." ten times really fast. Believing it though, takes a bit more than that, at least in my world.
Just as I'm ready to sign off for today, as if on cue, Xavier comes into the room saying "Can you get money so we can go to Target and buy things?" Specifically, a new truck. When asked why he needs one, he says the one that has a tractor is broken so we have to get a new one. Of course the tractor/trailer combination in question was a poor purchasing decision from last fall that still irks me. It was so securely fastened in its' overpackaging - wire and plastic thingys - that I actually broke the damn thing as I was getting it out of the package. My frustration tolerance is particularly low with all things mechanical - no Bob, I can't look at it as a fun challenge - and I was more than miffed. So here's another silver lining to buying used: none of that incredibly annoying packaging.
As I was thanking the Gods of Childhood Development for short attention spans, Xavier comes back in the room asking "Where's you Target card, Mom?" He's 4, dammit, and I haven't had one for over a year, rarely use store credit cards, etc. (<> ). From the mouths of babes indeed.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
I haven't really thought this thing through....
So I took a chance and went to Target yesterday with my son. And left only with groceries and a slightly virtuous feeling. Yes, he asked to get a toy but was happy with a bagel. I am not a parent who can't say no - most times I do - but it seems like they always have more asks than I have answers. I often talk about developmentally-appropriate-but-still-annoying behaviors, and since I subscribe to the theory of life-long learning, I guess that includes me too. Which is partly why I am challenging myself to a year of living minimally.
I'm not sure what made me decide to try this out. I had talked with various friends about it, but never seriously considered cutting back on my accumulation lifestyle. In my head, if it was a good buy, all was forgiven. But in our small, cluttered 1917 bungalow, the square footage didn't give extra credit for deeply-discounted stuff. And neither did Bob. "I don't care how much it cost, it's still plastic crap we don't need in the house."
I've always had a fascination with ascetics, but not an aspiration to become one. There was a time when everything that mattered most to me fit in a subcompact car. That was when I had to have a more mobile life, frequently moving for school, etc. It's been 11 years since I last moved. And it's starting to show. I make an effort monthly to go through the house and dispassionately acknowledge all the stuff that was truly non-essential. So about once a month I take a trunkload to Goodwill - usually when the kids aren't around to talk me out of this toy or that stuffed animal. I feel better, slightly simplified BUT IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE that I can perceive. Our house is still mostly our stuff with a roof on it. (RIP George Carlin!)
Which leads me to have to acknowledge my consumption patterns - something I haven't always been mindful of. There are a few things that we actually need and shop in particular to acquire them. But the vast majority of purchases I make are more of the what's-out-there and is-it-on -sale? variety.
This is the part where I shamelessly admit my gender stereotypes about shopping style. Although I have known exceptions, I still feel that the majority of women are shopping for entertainment and opportunity purposes and the social aspect is a side benefit. Men, on the other hand, go shopping for particular items and make it a seek-and-acquire stealth mission. Think about how rarely you hear men say they are going shopping without specifying what they're looking for.
I believe that there are some evolutionary reasons beyond this difference. This is somewhat based in evolutionary psychology but rings true because I have said it often enough to believe it myself, and I am all about the b.s. ability. In the time of cave-men-women-people (persons of cave???) the hunter/gatherer society was based on men hunting and women gathering. Considering how difficult it was to track and kill game, it took several men quite a bit of time before they even sighted game, much less got off a decent shot. And with dull spears, a deer might be wounded and they would follow the trail of blood for days. This required the men to be mostly silent and focused on a single goal. Meanwhile, the women would be back at camp, minding the children, gathering berries, looking out for predators, making clothing, preparing food - all of it requiring social interaction and multi-tasking. Fast forward a few millenia to the mall, and it all makes sense.
There is something alluring about bargains that feels like a success story for the hunter/gatherer. Granted, I'm not usually in survival mode when I'm perusing the clearance aisles at our local Target. Unless I go to our less-than-savory Targhetto, where I'm a bit more imperiled.
To some extent, swearing off buying new will force me to use my shopping wiles more, not less, because I will have to be more planful and resourceful. That will be gratifying, along with the knowledge I am doing what I can to reduce consuming new products to support our lifestyle. If I have to spend more time and energy acquiring things second-hand, perhaps the process of shopping will limit itself. Mindless consumption isn't an option.
For those of you shaking your heads and saying "Good luck with that!" , some caveats:
Of course I have a family that needs food, medicine, a home in good repair, etc. so some things are not negotiable. It's the wants that will be held to the standard of buying second-hand only.
Raw materials for repairs, crafts etc. will be excluded - provided every effort is made to make do with what we already have.
My kids will need school supplies, uniforms, and shoes. I'll try to buy from second-hand, garage sales, etc. but it's unlikely that will be sufficient.
At this point I haven't bought anything other than groceries. It's probably a good thing that I didn't think this through ahead of time, as I would have been tempted to "stock up". It's a family trait to be a packrat, especially with presents, rainy day activities, and all things crafty. So I have a stockpile already. Some challenges I've identified already: greeting cards. Yes, I have boxes of stamps and paper to make my own. But hauling out all that stuff is not exactly a last-minute project. I'll have to plan in advance and have a bunch made to choose from. That's manageable. I've also set the bar pretty low, as '08 was The Year That Thoughtful Gestures Forgot. I used to be a much nicer person. Or at least a person with more niceties. Who knew?
I'm not sure what made me decide to try this out. I had talked with various friends about it, but never seriously considered cutting back on my accumulation lifestyle. In my head, if it was a good buy, all was forgiven. But in our small, cluttered 1917 bungalow, the square footage didn't give extra credit for deeply-discounted stuff. And neither did Bob. "I don't care how much it cost, it's still plastic crap we don't need in the house."
I've always had a fascination with ascetics, but not an aspiration to become one. There was a time when everything that mattered most to me fit in a subcompact car. That was when I had to have a more mobile life, frequently moving for school, etc. It's been 11 years since I last moved. And it's starting to show. I make an effort monthly to go through the house and dispassionately acknowledge all the stuff that was truly non-essential. So about once a month I take a trunkload to Goodwill - usually when the kids aren't around to talk me out of this toy or that stuffed animal. I feel better, slightly simplified BUT IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE that I can perceive. Our house is still mostly our stuff with a roof on it. (RIP George Carlin!)
Which leads me to have to acknowledge my consumption patterns - something I haven't always been mindful of. There are a few things that we actually need and shop in particular to acquire them. But the vast majority of purchases I make are more of the what's-out-there and is-it-on -sale? variety.
This is the part where I shamelessly admit my gender stereotypes about shopping style. Although I have known exceptions, I still feel that the majority of women are shopping for entertainment and opportunity purposes and the social aspect is a side benefit. Men, on the other hand, go shopping for particular items and make it a seek-and-acquire stealth mission. Think about how rarely you hear men say they are going shopping without specifying what they're looking for.
I believe that there are some evolutionary reasons beyond this difference. This is somewhat based in evolutionary psychology but rings true because I have said it often enough to believe it myself, and I am all about the b.s. ability. In the time of cave-men-women-people (persons of cave???) the hunter/gatherer society was based on men hunting and women gathering. Considering how difficult it was to track and kill game, it took several men quite a bit of time before they even sighted game, much less got off a decent shot. And with dull spears, a deer might be wounded and they would follow the trail of blood for days. This required the men to be mostly silent and focused on a single goal. Meanwhile, the women would be back at camp, minding the children, gathering berries, looking out for predators, making clothing, preparing food - all of it requiring social interaction and multi-tasking. Fast forward a few millenia to the mall, and it all makes sense.
There is something alluring about bargains that feels like a success story for the hunter/gatherer. Granted, I'm not usually in survival mode when I'm perusing the clearance aisles at our local Target. Unless I go to our less-than-savory Targhetto, where I'm a bit more imperiled.
To some extent, swearing off buying new will force me to use my shopping wiles more, not less, because I will have to be more planful and resourceful. That will be gratifying, along with the knowledge I am doing what I can to reduce consuming new products to support our lifestyle. If I have to spend more time and energy acquiring things second-hand, perhaps the process of shopping will limit itself. Mindless consumption isn't an option.
For those of you shaking your heads and saying "Good luck with that!" , some caveats:
Of course I have a family that needs food, medicine, a home in good repair, etc. so some things are not negotiable. It's the wants that will be held to the standard of buying second-hand only.
Raw materials for repairs, crafts etc. will be excluded - provided every effort is made to make do with what we already have.
My kids will need school supplies, uniforms, and shoes. I'll try to buy from second-hand, garage sales, etc. but it's unlikely that will be sufficient.
At this point I haven't bought anything other than groceries. It's probably a good thing that I didn't think this through ahead of time, as I would have been tempted to "stock up". It's a family trait to be a packrat, especially with presents, rainy day activities, and all things crafty. So I have a stockpile already. Some challenges I've identified already: greeting cards. Yes, I have boxes of stamps and paper to make my own. But hauling out all that stuff is not exactly a last-minute project. I'll have to plan in advance and have a bunch made to choose from. That's manageable. I've also set the bar pretty low, as '08 was The Year That Thoughtful Gestures Forgot. I used to be a much nicer person. Or at least a person with more niceties. Who knew?
Monday, January 5, 2009
Starting Out...
Welcome to 2009 and although I hesitate to call them resolutions, this is the time when I tend to (over)evaluate how I am doing. This is beyond the level of status update, i.e. Facebook, that seems to encourage pithy superficial phrases in the third person. It's more of a look at how my day to day choices reflect my values. Of course now that we're shaping the next generation, it becomes a battle of guilt vs. sanctimony - step right up, everyone is a winner.
Part of this year's Christmas preparation was having the kids help me round up a trunkload of clothes, toys, and books we'd outgrown and bringing it all to Goodwill. We had a surprisingly good time with this project and it got me thinking - why not celebrate the other end of the consumption spectrum? Too much whining energy goes into the "gimme" phase, where tired parents give in on occasion just to get a tad bit of peace and quiet.
Full disclosure here: my name is Karen and I'm a shopaholic. Hi, Karen!
According to my charming husband Bob, I buy toys like a divorced dad. And I don't think he meant it as a compliment. To me or to divorced dads. This has become a capital-I Issue.
Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up:
I am, at heart, a cheapskate. Compliment me on a new sweater, you'll be greeted with "Like it? Garage sale! 2 bucks!" (Insert the universal symbol for oversharing HERE.) There is something vindicating about buying things on extreme sale - the thrill of the hunt rides roughshod over the question: Do I really need this? It's classic consumer thinking - a deal too good to pass up, who cares if I don't need an elaborately beaded quilted down tea cozy? It's 90% off!
So my inherent frugality doesn't result in less stuff, but more cheap stuff. This is also an Issue.
Why do I shop? Occasionally it is a source of entertainment, a way to kill time, a default value. I'm not proud, but I am a tired stay at home mom. Plastic rocket launcher with light up foam rocket: $4. Keeping several preschoolers entertained for a few hours on a rainy weekend at camp: priceless.
All justifications aside, this has resulted in displeasing the spousal unit. Nothing ruins a homecoming in our humble abode like the banshee call of "Look what Mom bought us!" And now the kids have picked up on it, they ammend their requests to include the caveat "We won't tell Dad!" Not exactly a healthy dynamic to set up, unless of course I'm trying to assist future therapists everywhere by providing a steady stream of clients.
And then there's the internal/infernal inconsistency: I am always saying we should value people and experiences over things. My rant about relatives sending too many presents isn't unique. I have made some inroads: encouraging grandparents to get the family a membership to the zoo or children's museum as a gift of year-long entertainment. In Minnesota, indoor activity options are essential to survival 6 months of the year. Think The Shining, people.
So time for me to address my own toy-giving tendencies. To best limit my chances of lasting behavioral change, I've decided on overkill. Yup, I'm going to work out every day too. Here's what I've come up with:
For one year, I will not buy anything new. Nada. Of course groceries are excluded. If I need something, I will either make do with existing stuff, or buy it second hand. We're still in negotiations about whether the samples at Salvation Army qualify... That's a whole 'nother entry. And I have to go work out. Really.
Coming up:
- Benefits of Hypomanic States re: Housekeeping
- Talking with Mary Beth and Tim, who have actually done a year already...
- How to get the kids to sign on, as it is VOLUNTARY simplicity, right?
- Best places to find second-hand stuff in the Twin Cities.
- Reactions from others.
Part of this year's Christmas preparation was having the kids help me round up a trunkload of clothes, toys, and books we'd outgrown and bringing it all to Goodwill. We had a surprisingly good time with this project and it got me thinking - why not celebrate the other end of the consumption spectrum? Too much whining energy goes into the "gimme" phase, where tired parents give in on occasion just to get a tad bit of peace and quiet.
Full disclosure here: my name is Karen and I'm a shopaholic. Hi, Karen!
According to my charming husband Bob, I buy toys like a divorced dad. And I don't think he meant it as a compliment. To me or to divorced dads. This has become a capital-I Issue.
Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up:
I am, at heart, a cheapskate. Compliment me on a new sweater, you'll be greeted with "Like it? Garage sale! 2 bucks!" (Insert the universal symbol for oversharing HERE.) There is something vindicating about buying things on extreme sale - the thrill of the hunt rides roughshod over the question: Do I really need this? It's classic consumer thinking - a deal too good to pass up, who cares if I don't need an elaborately beaded quilted down tea cozy? It's 90% off!
So my inherent frugality doesn't result in less stuff, but more cheap stuff. This is also an Issue.
Why do I shop? Occasionally it is a source of entertainment, a way to kill time, a default value. I'm not proud, but I am a tired stay at home mom. Plastic rocket launcher with light up foam rocket: $4. Keeping several preschoolers entertained for a few hours on a rainy weekend at camp: priceless.
All justifications aside, this has resulted in displeasing the spousal unit. Nothing ruins a homecoming in our humble abode like the banshee call of "Look what Mom bought us!" And now the kids have picked up on it, they ammend their requests to include the caveat "We won't tell Dad!" Not exactly a healthy dynamic to set up, unless of course I'm trying to assist future therapists everywhere by providing a steady stream of clients.
And then there's the internal/infernal inconsistency: I am always saying we should value people and experiences over things. My rant about relatives sending too many presents isn't unique. I have made some inroads: encouraging grandparents to get the family a membership to the zoo or children's museum as a gift of year-long entertainment. In Minnesota, indoor activity options are essential to survival 6 months of the year. Think The Shining, people.
So time for me to address my own toy-giving tendencies. To best limit my chances of lasting behavioral change, I've decided on overkill. Yup, I'm going to work out every day too. Here's what I've come up with:
For one year, I will not buy anything new. Nada. Of course groceries are excluded. If I need something, I will either make do with existing stuff, or buy it second hand. We're still in negotiations about whether the samples at Salvation Army qualify... That's a whole 'nother entry. And I have to go work out. Really.
Coming up:
- Benefits of Hypomanic States re: Housekeeping
- Talking with Mary Beth and Tim, who have actually done a year already...
- How to get the kids to sign on, as it is VOLUNTARY simplicity, right?
- Best places to find second-hand stuff in the Twin Cities.
- Reactions from others.
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