Our New Year Adventure

Well, Christmas is over and, like many of you, we're feeling a little financially challenged. Add property taxes and higher heating bills to the Christmas crunch and, well... I start looking at creative options. This year, my plan involves a family adventure, of sorts. Since I feel like there's more month than money every January, it's easy to embrace that as the truth. So, my husband and I totalled up all of our monthly commitments - house payment, car insurance, utilities, phone and the amounts we've committed to give to our church and other ministries. Then we subtracted that amount from our monthly income. The result showed us in black and white that we do have money left after we pay our bills. The only reasonable explanation for the gap between our intentions about how to use our money and the reality are the "variable" expenses. (That's CPA speak for expenses we can more easily control, like groceries and clothes.)

So we devised a plan. For the month of January, we've resolved not to eat out and not to buy anything except essentials. We are going to make a list of any non-essentials we want to buy and reconsider those potential purchases in February.

Let me set this up for you. We're not big spenders. We drive a 10-year-old Jeep and a five-year-old minivan. No car payments. We live in a 1950's Ranch style house that we have slowly fixed up over the last decade. We usually eat out after church and sometimes one other time per week at the "kids eat free" places. I buy many, if not most, of our family's clothes used or drastically on sale. We've only taken one family vacation, which we paid cash for.

But, alas we are apparently still "leaking". We want to be better stewards of the resources God has entrusted to us, and we want to give more, save more and continue to fix up our house. Maybe you want to get out of debt, save for retirement or travel. Whatever your goals are, I hope you'll join us in this challenge, and I'd love to hear about your victories, challenges and temptations along the way.

Good luck and Happy New Year!

A Heart Filled With Gratitude

We spent the weekend at my mom's with my siblings and their families. I ate too much and slept too little. But as we traveled home tonight - six hours through gusty wind, rain and sleet - my mind wandered back over the weekend, and the first 38 years of my life, recalling my blessings. Here's just a sampling, which I'm sure many of you share.

1. Another year of life, truly the most precious gift God bestows
2. Still being crazy about my husband after 15 years
3. The privilege of motherhood
4. Healthy, happy children
5. A big, loud, crazy family who love me just the way I am
6. A big, loud, crazy family I love just the way they are
7. My sisters' two-year-old girls
8. Living in the greatest country on Earth
9. Knowing that God loves me and has a purpose for me in His master plan
10. Reuniting with college friends (almost 20 years after college)
11. Pumpkin pie and chocolate fondue
12. The generosity of others
13. Getting out of a warm bed to a hot breakfast (Thanks, Mom!)
14. Beautiful colors and textures of the late Fall countryside
15. Forgiveness
16. Reliable transportation
17. The ability to work
18. Girlfriends
19. Reading a good book by a glowing fire
20. Warm, fuzzy socks (Is there anything better?)

My wish for you is that you focus on your blessings more than your burdens and that each day reveals itself as the unopened gift it was meant to be. Happy Thanksgiving!

Now It's Gettin' Political

I have no political expertise; my degree is in Accounting, not political science. But my dad, a Vietnam vet and high school political science teacher, was passionate about America and its greatness, and he passed that zeal onto his daughters.

That said, recently my daughters (ages 12 and 10) were trying to sort out all the rhetoric and asked me why their dad and I consider ourselves "conservatives". Here's my answer, condensed into a top 10 list.

10. I can't relate to the Hollywood elites, and they can't relate to me.
9. I think I am better qualified to manage my own life, and money, than the government is.
8. I believe that capitalism, not socialism, is the strongest economic system.
7. I am, and always have been, proud of my country and believe that, with all its faults, it is still the greatest country on earth.
6. I think the only effective anti-terror strategy is to fight terrorists where they are, not merely ask them to play nice.
5. I believe the responsibility of judges is to interpret the constitution, not re-write it.
4. I admire, not blame, the brave men and women who fight for our right to criticize and accuse them of "air-raiding villages and killing civilians".
3. I believe that 99% of the situations people find themselves in are caused, or greatly contributed to, by their own choices; therefore, taking personal responsibility is much more empowering than government intervention in most situations.
2. I believe that marriage was intended by God to be a union between one man and one woman.
1. I believe life is precious from the moment of conception until the moment of natural death, and that the circumstances surrounding the child's conception don't determine the value of its life.

I think Ronald Reagan said it best. "Freedom prospers when religion is vibrant and the rule of law under God is acknowledged."

Decorating 101

I read something once that completely changed the way I decorate my house: "Surround yourself only with those things which you find to be useful or beautiful." For ten years, I have followed that advice strictly, almost fanatically. Since I read that simple yet profound statement, it has been a source of freedom and inspiration in every decorating choice I have made, especially in the absence of the "money is no object" scenario. As a result, my house has taken on a look and feel that distinctly reflect our family's personality and priorities.

Comfy couches and chairs beckon from in front of the fireplaces. Family photos fill the walls. (After all, what would any mother consider more beautiful than pictures of her children?) Sweet-smelling candles scent the air, and miles of books line the built-in bookshelves. Brightly colored petunias peek out of the flower boxes while the porch swing and hammock practically beg to be put to work on lazy summer afternoons.

The house isn't fancy; in fact, it's old and the never-ending list of home improvement projects, including "gutting" the 1950's pink bathroom, is daunting. But we believe this house is a gift from God, a haven for our precious brood, and we nurture it with patience and persistence.

I like to shop for little "treasures" for the house, so on a recent outing to Target, I decided to peruse the summer clearance items. Unbeknownst to me, my six-year-old son Micah was browsing too, and halfway down the doormat aisle, he cried, "Mom, look at this one!" I obediently backed up the cart and glanced at the object of his affection: a school of blue fish on a tan background with the caption, "Thanks for swimming by." "That's cute," I half mumbled and ambled on. "Cute?!", he practically yelled. "Mom, I love it!" He is fascinated with nature, especially fish and birds, and his delighted, fixated gaze told me he really did adore it.

So, I tried my first "I don't want to buy that" excuse. "Let's see how much it is." Bummer. Only $7. Who knew clearance could be a bad thing? Luckily, I had another excuse poised and ready. "But, honey," I said as he clasped his hands together and pleaded with his eyes, "it doesn't match our house." Realizing he couldn't argue with that logic, he slowly unclasped his hands, stood up straight, turned toward his silly new friends and said, "But it matches me."

Needless to say, the fish found a new home, and my "useful or beautiful" logic took on new meaning. Every time I look at those blue, bloated cartoon faces under my feet, I think about what they represent: a little buzz-headed blonde, full of energy and life, who treasures God's creatures with a simple appreciation that rubs off on his sisters, dad and me. I think about the other imperfect aspects of my real-life decorating dilemmas like tiny, greasy fingerprints on the carefully painted walls, black permanent marker on the red ottoman and crayons, CD's and smelly socks strewn from one end of the house to the other. Messy? Yeah. Frustrating? At times. Beautiful? Absolutely. My house will never be featured on HGTV, that's for sure. But our zany, wonderful, noisy, unpredictable life happens here, and that will always be enough for me.

Party, Interrupted

My son turned six on June 18th and as usual the date, lying in wait behind Father's Day, snuck up on me. Micah's a nature lover and, after much discussion, he decided he would have a "water party" in our front yard. (His first idea was to hike the nature trails at a local conservation area while searching for deer, wild turkeys and snakes. He couldn't understand that some people consider that torture, not fun.) "What a great idea!", I thought. Practical, inexpensive, easy to plan and I won't even have to clean the house.

We invited his friends and their moms for a low-key afternoon get-together. Next we picked up some squirt guns, borrowed a sprinkler toy from a friend, blew up the inflatable kiddie pool, hosed off the lawn chairs, ordered a cookie cake and made a quick trip to the party store for matching fish plates and napkins.

The big day finally arrived, and everything was in order. The weather forecast called for a "slight chance for rain" in the evening, but the party was scheduled from 2:00-4:00. Perfect. A little before 2:00, the guests started arriving. Micah proudly greeted his friends, handing them colorful plastic leis and inviting them to "grab a (water) gun and start shooting". The moms lounged in lawn chairs, rocking babies and sipping cold water, while the kids splashed, squirted and screamed.

A good time was had by all until, at precisely 3:03 pm, a high-pitched whine echoed all around us. The sky was clear, but there was no mistaking the sound: tornado sirens. Time to implement Plan B. Everyone inside - NOW! In a matter of three minutes, 15 soaking wet, grass-covered boys and girls tramped through the house, as I frantically made my way toward the TV. Mass chaos ensued, as the kids stripped off their wet swimming suits, confused by the sudden end to the water fun; the weatherman screamed instructions at us and the moms called their husbands to assure them they were safe.

Meanwhile, Micah kept pulling on my shirt, begging me to "save his presents from the patio table before they blow away". I tried to calmly explain this was a crisis, the presents would be fine and I'd get them as soon as I was sure everyone was safe. That explanation didn't cut it for him so, in the midst of the mayhem, he slipped on his sandals and embarked on a rescue mission. I didn't even notice he was gone until he reappeared in the family room, laden with bags and boxes, looking terrified but triumphant.

The wind blew, the rain poured and the sky turned black as night. Through it all, Micah gleefully opened his gifts while he and his friends devoured the giant chocolate chip cookie, a half gallon of ice cream and two dozen juice boxes. They didn't seem to notice the dangerous weather or the completely disastrous (in my mind) change of plans. As soon as Micah's party ended, I had a party of my own--a pity party. "Why does something always have to go wrong when I plan a party? Why aren't my kids' parties as cool as other kids' parties? I didn't even clean my house, for Pete's sake." I sulked and pouted and wondered why God hadn't answered my prayer for calm weather.

The next day, Micah crept into my bed early, like he does every morning after his dad leaves for work. I rolled over and peered groggily through a half-opened eyelid to see him gazing at the ceiling and grinning ear to ear. When I asked him why he was so happy, he said, "I'm just thinking about my party. It was the best day of my life." But I wasn't convinced, still feeling like a party-planning failure, until we went to the church picnic on Sunday. Micah was getting settled on the picnic blanket, trying not to spill his fried chicken or lemonade, when his friend Garrett bounded up to him and joyfully exclaimed, "Hey Micah, I loved your party! We got to squirt all the girls.", and they promptly exchanged high fives. Amused and more than a little surprised, I looked over at Steve. He just smiled, winked and said, "See? I told you. It was perfect." And I had to admit, based on the evidence, that he was right.