Money Matters.

(Ya’ll can skip this one if ya want. I’ll return to my mucus production updates soon enough.)

Now, if ya’ll been paying attention (you new Loyal Readers have an excuse, of course *g*) you know that my preferred way to pay attention to money is to spend it. And that I never seem to have any. *chuckles* There are several reasons for that, of course, and many others that I know in my area, and elsewhere have the same problem. I was young, high school graduate, stay at home mom, with a husband who was often injured, and other times working at minimum wage, or barely better jobs.

We made the decision early on that as much as possible I’d stay home with the kids. That didn’t always work out – like when he had several surguries and was too broken to work, and his workman’s comp didn’t cover things like, oh, food. So I did my time movin the fast food line, if ya know what I mean. At one point, i started college, and then got pregnant again with the pup. We never seemed to have enough money, always robbing peter to pay paul, and siphoning off a bit of that to hand off to Simon. We had dreams – Big ones. But life – she gets in the way, and laughs at your plans and scoffs at your attempts to grapple The American Dream from the hands of those who’s Father’s Uncle knew the Bosses Son and what happened that One Night in Las Vegas With the Neighbor’s Dog, thus ensuring his tenure with the Good Company who gave out Christmas Bonuses.

Stick with me – I’m going somewhere with this, honest. (…not sure where. Ask the Doxycycl. Hee…)

Anyway. I spent some time in school, I quit. We financed our lives with credit card debt, and when Kevin received a settlement paid it off. We lived as a family of 5 on less then 1100 a month for a LONG time, we accepted state aid only when absolutely necessary, we begged, borrowed and begged some more when we had too. I went back to school and graduated, and have a pretty degree that I freelance with. Kevin got a good job, and we upped our monthly income to about 2500 a month, and still robbed peter to pay paul when necessary. I did everything I could to ensure that Kevin and the kids got a good amount of what they wanted and everything they needed (two different things!), and reworked every month our in the red finances to accomplish that.

And through all that – whenever a friend needed $20 bucks for gas, or a place to stay, we did all we could to help them too. It’s how I was raised – help no matter what – and something I still do to this day. It’s important. People need help and if I can give it, I will. I don’t expect the same in return, either – otherwise I’d be doing it for the wrong reason, ya know?

Things got better, then – as you all know – they got really, really bad. With Kevin’s death, I was lost completely emotionally, and a whole buncha lost financially. I was able to pay off everything – back medical bills, the final collection agency totals, etc, with his small company ins. policy. That left me with three biggies – the house, student loans, and daily life – all of which are currently paid for by our Social Security survivors benefits.

Some months it’s lean, some months it’s better, but I’ll tell ya – I’ve become a budgeting machine. Something I could never make time for before has consumed at least 30 minutes daily, even though I get paid once a month. (with extras from my two freelancing/part time jobs as they occur.) When things like this trip come up – it’s a scratch and scramble and beg and thank you and work to make sure my kids aren’t deprived of these opportunities. That’s important to me- I want them to take these chances, these steps to see the world. All too soon they’ll have their own families to support, and try to make sure their kids get the same thing. Now I want them to be kids, and to have what other kids have.

Within 4 years, I will lose some of that SS income, another 1/4 of it in 6 years, and in 10 years it will be completely gone. That – while inducing panic attacks – also gives me a set number of years, months, weeks and days that I have to play and plan with to make sure I can continue to support my family (and any future members of the family who may arrive when my children are 82 and allowed to attempt to procreate. heh.)

So – why do ya’ll care, right? (except to tease me about how soon that age 82 can arrive, of course). I was browsing blogher (Did ya go? did ya see? do ya read? AH! it’s BACK! *L*) and was drawn into the whole ‘open wallet’ thing about women who blog their pocketbooks. Interesting concept for those with net worths, for sure! It seems there is a trend of women, and men too, who are putting it all out there, and making some very real decisions for retirement.

But what about those who don’t have that beginning portfolio, the job with the pension accounts, the start up savings account from keeping allowance instead of getting that new Barry Manilow tape because they thought he was sexy and his voice was gold and THEY WERE ONLY TWELVE PEOPLE and didn’t KNOW better though they still watch him on Ellen and know all the words to Copa and Mandy?

What about those who are being shocked by increasing minimum payments, and Adjustable Rate Mortgages, and all mannor of things that could and likely will end them in finanacial ruin, homeless and afraid? What of those without enough life insurance to protect the quality of life for their survivors? What of those without an emergancy fund, or investments, who will be working until the day they die just to keep from eating cat food? What about all those out there Just. Like. Me?

That’s why I’ve been out of town more often. That’s why I’ve been training. That’s why I am doing my best to get my own act together, and still manage to help anyone else I can – with every extra penny right now going towards Europe for The Boy.

Fortune Magazine said in their recent issue on The Secret of Greatness:

Research now shows that the lack of natural talent is irrelevant to great success. The secret? Painful and demanding practice and hard work.

GASP! Who’da thunk it?

So. This is my time of Painful and Demanding Practice, and Hard Work. This is something I do. I won’t go into any more detail here then that – for that’s what emails are for. Just know that some day, me and my kids will be sunning ourselves on the beach in Cancun, while Raul the Cabana Boy waits on my our every whim, and my money works for me instead of the other way around. And along the way, I aim to help as many others do the very same thing.

The time is now.
MY time is now.
What time is it where you are?