Over Reacting

Today I think I probably over-reacted.  I’ll know for sure in the morning.

I looked up at gymnastics to see my daughter, standing in front of me, crying.  She was holding her bloody mouth.  I grabbed my stuff and said we’re out of here.  A coach passing by asked if she was okay, and I asked him for ice.  As he got the ice, I was on the phone with the oral surgeon.

So now you’re thinking, “Ummm, yeah, she way over-reacted!”  Bloody mouth = call to oral surgeon?  Crazy lady!   But you have to understand the saga of my daughter and her front teeth.  She has broken them off.  She had a root canal.  She has braces to fix the damage done when she broke them.  Later she knocked out the same tooth.  Except she had braces, so it took three other teeth along for the ride and traumatized them.  We see the oral surgeon every three months.  Sometimes more often.

These aren’t my daughter’s teeth, but they look similar.

By the end of it, we had three coaches looking at her teeth.  And a mom who was looking at me like I was insane.  I hope she never has to walk in my shoes on this one.  We’re pretty sure it was just a bloody lip.  But as punishment for my over-reaction, we’ll see the oral surgeon at 7:10 A.M.  Hello summer, you just thought you could sleep in!  I have to say I’m a little embarrassed.  Ah well, we all get to act crazy once in a while, right?

In all fairness, I’m usually the mom who tells them to ‘shake it off’ or ‘spit on it’ or ‘lick the blood off.’  I don’t want my kids to be afraid of getting hurt.  But the teeth.  Those teeth.  We have to keep them until the braces come off.  Then they can fall out.  Well, not really.  She’s too young for implants.  The dentist’s goal was to keep her original teeth until she has her own dental insurance and a job.  I like him.  Really like him.

We’ll see how this story ends tomorrow…

…And it looks like I was a bit over the top on this one. X-ray looked good (as good as expected with all that’s happened to those poor teeth).  Passed the sensitivity tests.  We’ll head to the orthodontist to fix the bent wire.  And my sweet hubby took her this morning.  I got to avoid the whole early morning thing and the embarrassment of being a little too paranoid.  I love that guy.  He’s always so good to me.

Home


Thursday, May 17, 2012 my beautiful mom, Deborah Louise Appleby, met her Savior face to face around 8:00 in the evening.  She had battled cancer for two years.

Oh how she fought.  Initially, we were told she would only live a couple months.  She was so frail.  She could not walk or move without excruciating pain.  The reality of it hit me when I had to scoop her in my arms like a baby to help her move in bed.  She was 58 years old.  It really didn’t seem fair.

Mom liked to prove the doctors wrong.  She always outlived their predictions.  And she always responded better than expected to any treatment.

Mom’s last week was filled with tough decisions, pain, and then comfort and peace.  As noted in my last post, Brain Surgery, we had a tough choice on how to handle her pain.  We were told she would not leave the hospital.  Of course, we had heard that so many times.  We knew that, one day, they would be right.  I wondered if Mom passed away during or soon after surgery, would I have regrets?  I can honestly say that I don’t.  The relief of her pain was beyond evident after surgery.  She looked so much better.  She could move.  Her face looked so much more relaxed.  Her eyes were normal and clear.  Her blood pressure and heart rate were normal.  Lungs clear.  I stayed with her around the clock.  My husband gave me a few breaks, but I wanted to be with her.  She would nod her head or makes noises to communicate.  I didn’t want to miss anything.

Thursday started out bumpy.  Her breathing was slightly labored and she had mucus in her throat.  She wasn’t sleeping.  And her kidneys didn’t seem to be functioning.  All are signs of impending death.  As I was talking to Mom, I mentioned that we couldn’t get her to the bathroom because she had just had surgery, so it was okay to use her brief.  She always hated those things.  Within an hour, she had to be changed three times!  Her breathing improved.  I sang “Victory in Jesus” to her.  As I sang, she turned her face to me, smiled ever so slightly, and looked so content.  Peaceful.  She was doing well.  At 12:30, she was transferred back to the nursing home.  When we arrived, Mom looked around her room and seemed to relax.  This was home.  She dozed off a couple times.  Finally she could relax and rest.  I stayed for a couple hours.  Her lungs were still clear.  She was calm and had no pain (morphine is nice that way).  I decided to leave for a few hours.  I hadn’t seen my children most of the week.  As a family, we went to swim and gymnastics practices.  Afterwards, we headed back to the nursing home to check on Mom.

And that’s when we found out.  We were about 5 minutes from arriving, but she was already gone.

I wonder if she waited until I left.  She had worried so much about how my brother and I would handle her passing.  How would my children handle it?  And when I think about it, I really can’t imagine leaving my children or husband.  I’d want them to experience as little pain as possible (none at all, actually).  Would it be hard for them to watch me take my final breath?  Would they relive that moment forever?  She knew I had never been with someone as they passed away.   I think she was still being my mom, even in her last moments in life.  She wanted to protect me from the pain.  She was my shield, even on her last day.

Mom is healed.  Not the way I wanted it.  I want her here, sitting on my couch, telling me to get off the computer, wanting to know if I’ve planned dinner yet.  I want her reading to Joshua and sewing with Madelyn.  I want her to see them graduate and get married.  I want her to hold her great-grandbabies.  I want her to be here when we adopt again.  I want her fussing over how neglected our poor pets are.  But an earthly healing is never complete.  Our bodies are still flawed and still fail us.  And nothing can compare to the presence of the Father. Mom is completely healed now.  New body, worshipping at the feet of her Savior, praising God.  She is reunited with her sister, mother, and father.  No pain.  No disease.  She can talk and walk and leap for joy!  Her eyes can see clearly.  I couldn’t ask for anything better for her.  She can sing!

I can begin to understand the pain God feels when He is separated from us because of our sin, the pain Jesus felt on the cross when His Father looked away.  Separation is painful.  It aches.  It knocks you off your feet sometimes.  But praise, God, this separation is only temporary.

So what have I learned on this journey?  Well, I’ve learned a lot about cancer and health.  But we’ll save that for another day.  The one thing that became more and more real throughout this journey is how it is so easy to get beaten down by the circumstances and not see the bigger picture.  I wish I could say that I cleaned vomit (and worse) with joy every time.  I wish I could say that I counted it a privilege to bath my mom each time she needed my help.  Or drive her to countless appointments.  Or hold her steady as she sat on the toilet.  Sometimes I grumbled.  I was angry that this interfered with my life.  I have children, you know.  But looking back, I realized that I was blessed to be able to do those things.  I’ll never get to feed her again or wash her hair or help her dress.  We humans are like that, aren’t we?  We don’t see the blessings until they’re gone.

Don’t miss out on life.  Even when it seems ugly and burdensome, find joy.  Know that one day the struggles will pass, but so will the good that came along with the burdens.  Sometimes they are a package deal.

Forgive.  No matter how much a person wrongs you or hurts you, we will all meet the same end.  Watching someone wither made me see how fragile we all really are.  I would not wish pain and suffering on anyone.  We will all experience it one day anyway.

I heard an old, 
old story
how a Savior came
 from glory
How he gave his life
on Calvary
 to save a wretch like me
I heard about 
His groaning, 
of his precious blood’s
 atoning
Then I repented 
of my sin
 and won the victory

Oh, victory in Jesus,
my Savior forever
He sought me 
and he bought me 
with his redeeming blood
He loved me 
e’re I knew him
 and all my love
 is due him
He plunged me to victory 
beneath the
 cleansing flood

I heard about his 
healing, 
of his cleansing pow’r
 revealing
How he made the lame 
to walk again 
and caused the
 blind to see
And then I cried
 “Dear Jesus,
come and heal
 my broken spirit”
And somehow Jesus
 came and brought 
to me the victory

Oh, victory in Jesus,
my Savior forever
He sought me
 and he bought me 
with his redeeming blood
He loved me 
e’re I knew him 
and all my love 
is due him
He plunged me to victory
 beneath the
 cleansing flood

I heard about a mansion 
He has built for me in glory.
And I heard about the streets of gold 
beyond the crystal sea;
About the angels singing, 
and the old redemption story,
And some sweet day I’ll sing up there 
the song of victory.

Memorial Celebrating Deborah Appleby
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
2:00 P.M.
Grace Bible Church Southwood
1901 Harvey Mitchell Pkwy S.
College Station, TX 77840

Visitation Noon-2:00 P.M.

Internment to follow at Memorial Cemetery
3800 Raymond Stotzer PKWY
College Station, TX

*Donations may be made in lieu of flowers to Grace Bible Church*

Brain Surgery


The first half of my Mother’s Day was spectacular!  Breakfast in bed with all my favorite breakfast foods.  Some awesome gifts from the kids.  John got me The Hunger Games and 4 hours of quiet time to read.  He cooked a fabulous lunch.  Everyone was in good spirits.  The kids were putting the final touches on a gift for Grandma, and I was getting out of my PJs.  We would head up to the nursing home and spend some time with my mom.

The phone rang.

It was the nursing home.  Mom’s blood pressure was high, and two extra doses of medicine hadn’t touched it.  She was in an ambulance on her way to the Emergency Room.


We get to the ER.  The doctor was already examining her.  I wonder if the kids will be doctors.  They’ve seen so much “medical” stuff at really young ages.  We have no family in town, so they tag along for most everything.  Thank goodness for Nintendo DSIs.  Where was I?  Oh yes, the doctor.  He suspected brain swelling.  He ordered labs and a scan of her brain.  He called a Neurosurgeon in to consult.  You have to understand something.  Mom’s cancer was Stage IV when she was diagnosed two years ago.  We have  never seen a surgeon.  There are some specialists I wish we would have pushed to see.  I can hypothesize all day long, but I’ll never know why Mom didn’t get the whole team-of-doctors approach to her treatment.  Nobody really thought she would live more than a couple months, and certainly not two years.

Wow, I am rambling.  Lack of sleep can do that.  So back to the ER.  Mom had too much fluid on her brain.  That fluid was pushing on her brain.  Her brain panics from the pressure and tells the heart to send more blood.  The blood pressure goes up.  The pressure on the brain increases.  The brain panics.  Ok, you see the vicious cycle.  This happened a year ago.  The pain was brutal.  Even narcotics didn’t touch the pain.  Thankfully, that time steroids worked.  This time, they probably wouldn’t.  Mom was admitted to the hospital.

The next morning, after 3 hours of sleep, I met with the Neurosurgeon.  I was given two options.  1. Send her back to the nursing home on high doses of narcotics to keep her comfortable until she passes away.  2. Place a shunt in her brain to drain the excess cerebrospinal fluid (CFS).  So I talked to family.  I actually consulted more family than usual.  I have Power of Attorney and the final say, but good grief, who wants that burden to oneself?  I even talked to a friend who is a Hospice Nurse PRactitioner (I probably butchered her title).

Option 1 Narcotics:  I would like to go this route.  I want Mom comfortable.  Peaceful.  Pain Free.  Not poked and cut.  This is the norm for end of life.  And I recognize we’re getting there.  And I would be fine with that if I KNEW it would work.  The big problem is narcotics didn’t work last time.  Her mental state was such that she wasn’t showing pain when painful things were done to her.  Was she experiencing pain but her body couldn’t communicate it?  I really don’t know.  And it made me VERY uncomfortable to think she would be in pain and we wouldn’t know or we couldn’t alleviate it.  As I told a friend, I felt like there would be a special room in hell for me if I knowingly let her suffer excruciating pain.  The doctors thought she would pass away in a few days.  Since they have been dead wrong on predicting her death for two years, I couldn’t really count on the idea of her suffering for a few days and then it would be over.  What if she was still here in two weeks?  Two months?  Two years?

Option 2 VP Shunt:  A shunt would relieve the pressure in her brain, thus the pain. It would lower her blood pressure.  All measures that would make her comfortable.  In a normal situation in which the swelling was new, a shunt might offer improvement in body control, speech, continence.  The chance of that in our situation was around zero.  A shunt would likely extend her life.  It would mean more tough choices like this down the line.  Pneumonia.  Problems with shunt.  Feeding Tube blockages.  How far do you go to treat things?  What is comfortable, moral, or just plain cruel?

We decided to go forward with the shunt.  Trust me, I didn’t take this lightly.  I wrestled with this.  I cried more than I care to remember.  There are no good choices here.  In the end, I made a choice that I felt I could live with.  We’ll never know what the other road would’ve looked like.  We can’t go back.  I know I did my best to make sure Mom suffers the least as she completes her journey on this earth.  Some disagree with me.  That’s ok.  I completely understand.  I hope you won’t judge me.  I certainly won’t judge you when you’re making these choices for someone you love.

Oh, and to clarify, I strongly considered what Mom’s wishes were for treatments and end of life stuff.  She never was the end-it-all-fast-no-life-support type.  In fact, I’m probably less aggressive than she wanted.  But she didn’t get to see what this looks like when we talked about this…back when she still talked and drove her car.

So what happened, you ask.  The surgery was last night.  Anesthesia took about an hour to set her up.  Brain surgery requires more stuff than say, ear tubes.  The surgery itself was about an hour, and recovery was a little over two hours.  The surgery went well.  Mom came off the ventilator immediately.  There was a 20% chance she never would, very high for a surgery.  The nurses were very surprised and pleased that Mom was more alert and responsive than prior to surgery.  Remember, we expected pain relief, nothing more.  She was moved to the surgery floor instead of the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) as planned.  When she arrived in the room, I asked her how she was feeling.  She opened her mouth and let out a series of growls and groans, the first sounds I’ve heard in a while.  Later I asked if she was okay, and she whispered, “I don’t know.”  Speech!  Words!  A Phrase!  She moved a leg a little, winced and grimaced.  She swallowed her spit.  All very good signs.  And her blood pressure was normal.  Normal, I say!

2:00 A.M.  Blood.Everywhere.  Her head incision was bleeding like crazy.  I’m not good with this.  Never was.  Three nurses wrap her head and give her morphine.  Her blood pressure has been elevated since then, but nowhere near where it was before the surgery.

10:00 A.M.  She’s still bleeding.  I finally remember that she’s a bleeder.  Her Central Line once required three days of sandbags.  Why did I forget this?  The doctor is on his way to put in more staples at lunch.  I think we’ll be here another day.  Please let us be here another day.

How’s the cognitive progress?  Well, she regressed.  She’s more alert.  She tracks you with her eyes.  But that’s all.  The Speech Therapist said this was normal for brain surgery.  Right after surgery, you see big progress.  Then the swelling sets in, and you regress.  Hopefully in several days, she’ll start making steps forward.  But because we saw things like speech, movement, swallowing….there is a sliver of hope.

And this is my mom.  Oh how she loves to prove doctors wrong!  But if she doesn’t, I’ll certainly understand.  She has fought this fight with valor.  We’ve all had our weak days, but on the whole, she’s been strong.

Thank you for all your prayers.  Thank you to the friends who’ve taken our kids.  Thank you for the visits and texts.  Thank you to my hubby who brought me clean underwear and deodorant.  Thank you to God for giving me sanity through all this and hearing my literal cries of frustration and confusion.

Mother’s Day





I’m probably breaking some blogger rule by posting an unrelated article during a series.  Fire me.


Tomorrow is Mother’s Day.  Actually, by the time I post this, it may already be Mother’s Day.  This will be the second Mother’s Day that has been, well, different.  A few days after Mother’s Day 2010, my mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer.  A very aggressive type of breast cancer.  It was in her breasts, spine, liver, lungs, lymph, bones, and brain.  That first year was rough, but I guess I had in mind that the treatments would fix her quickly.  Last year around Mother’s Day, we found out her brain cancer was active and the doctor gave her a maximum of 4-6 months to live.  In August, she had a heart attack and moved back in with us.  In October, she moved to a nursing home.  A year later, she’s still alive, but different.  You see, the brain cancer isn’t growing as much as they thought, but the brain radiation did a lot of damage.  At her worst, she could not move her arms or legs or talk.  With therapy, she’s started moving her legs around in bed.  Sometimes she’ll move her arms, usually if she’s in pain.

She’s not a vegetable, though.  I told her about my hubby’s mom’s trouble with cancer, and she cried.  While the nurse was changing her brief (grown-up diaper), I asked her if that was the worst part of her day, and she nodded.  She reacts with facial expressions or movements.  I guess she’s kind of trapped in her body.

I miss my mom.  I miss talking to her.  I miss texting her.  The kids miss the insane amounts of candy she gave them.  I don’t miss that.

Don’t get me wrong.  My mom wasn’t a saint in her healthy life.  She made plenty of mistakes.  We all do.  But no matter how bad it can get, we all need our moms.  I wish she could still hug me or talk to me.  I wish she could have gone to the kids’ gymnastics meets.

Some days she squeezes my hand and won’t let go.  I think she misses these things too.

2. If My Husband Made as Much as Yours – Surviving on a Single Income Pt. 2

 

Welcome back to part two of Surviving on a Single Income.


Just stumbling in here? Read Part 1.

Before you take the plunge, it is crucial to define a purpose.  Why exactly are you doing this?  It’s hard and exhausting work being at home with little ones.  It’s easy to lose your sense of identity when your life is suddenly defined by your husband’s job or your children’s milestones.  The tangible markers of success are gone.  As the cars age, and aren’t replaced, your neighbors and friends begin to realize you don’t have as much money as them.  And in American culture, that can be tough.

Let’s talk American culture a bit.  Why, you ask?  No matter how you look at it, choosing to be a two-parent, single-income family is counter-culture.  Going against the tide of modern culture can be empowering, but it can be draining.  Here’s the rub.  Americans have big houses, newer cars, matching stainless steel appliances, and fashionable clothes.  They also have college degrees, careers with titles, and company swag.  There is an emotional sacrifice when you leave behind the intellectual conversions and feelings of importance that come with a job.  Equally, there are poignant costs to giving up the material items like cars and multiple team sports for your kids.  Some days you’ll feel great about bucking the culture.  Other days it will seem like its sucking your soul away.

A purpose anchors you when you start to second guess your choices.  I have my eye on a $2200 refrigerator.  It’s pretty.  It has everything you could possibly want in a fridge.  LED lights.  Drawers galore.  A working icemaker!!!!  Trust me, every time I pull out the duct tape to “repair” my 18-year-old ugly beast, I think, “If I had a job, I could get a new one.”  And then the pity party starts.  And sometimes I even get a little mad or pouty.  At times like these (and trust me they come), I have to go back to my anchor, my purpose.  Why am I really doing this?

Everyone’s purpose for living on less will vary.  If you’re like our family, there will be multiple reasons, and they will morph over time.

Some purposes to consider:

  • Staying Home with Your Children – American culture is fairly accepting of mothers being home with their babies.  Dads, good luck.  I know fathers do it, but let’s be honest.  Dads will face much more scrutiny if they stay home.  Be prepared for it.  If it’s what your family needs, do it.  Just know that dads may face more opposition than moms.  What about older children?  American culture seems to expect both parents to work once children are school-aged.  In our family, we disagree.  Children face a whole new set of milestones once school starts, many of which will factor in to the adult they become.   You can read more about influencing your child  here.
  • Special Needs or Ill Child – Perhaps your child has a chronic illness that requires frequent doctor and therapist visits.  Juggling work with this type of demand can leave you feeling like a failure both at work and at home.  You may have a child that requires extra attention or recurrent parent meetings at school.  In these cases, it is often simpler for one parent to not work.  However, don’t discount the financial strain.  Both our children had medical needs that were financially draining and time consuming.
  • Living on Less – You may decide to reduce your income simply to force yourself to live frugally.  Reduce your footprint on the world.  Enjoy the simple life. Perhaps you have hobbies you want to pursue.  Also, don’t forget that both can work while only living on one income.  This is an excellent way to eliminate existing debt or save for a home or retirement.
  • Launch a Business – You may be ready to fire your boss and launch your own business.  When starting a new business, you can expect to not make any money, and maybe lose some, the first 3-5 years.  Living on a single income will be critical in the early years of your endeavor.
  • Aging Parents – I never thought this would be the case for us since we have young children.  However, cancer struck both our mothers.  My mother had no one to care for her except us.  For two years (and counting), we have been her caregivers.  Currently she’s in a nursing home, but there is still a time and financial commitment, though not as much as when she lived with us.  As your parents age, they will need help with yard work, cleaning, appointments.  They may eventually need your full time care.  We firmly believe the family is the first line of help.  Our culture has mistakenly moved away from adult children caring for parents.
  • Homeschooling – With more and more schools focusing on standardized tests while failing at educating our children, families are turning inward for education.  Most parents, with enough commitment and resources (curriculum, support groups, co-ops, etc.) can educate their children.
  • Hobbies/Giving Back – Maybe you are ready to pursue something for yourself.  Hobbies often are exchanged for the rat race of the career world.  Or perhaps you’re ready to volunteer at your local school, homeless shelter, or library.  Giving up an income to give back is a noble sacrifice.
  • Retirement – One day we’ll all be there.  With inflation, it’s not a bad idea to learn to live on less so that our retirement fund lasts us all the way through.  Who really wants to come out of retirement because they ran out of money?  And if you’re at retirement age, you know that the retirement check is less than the paycheck you’re accustomed to.

Some of these purposes will apply to you, or you may have a completely different reasoning for living on one income.  No matter.  The important thing is that you know WHY you are doing this.  Write it down and keep it in a safe place.  Decide what you will tell family and friends who think you are nuts or simply want to know more.  And what will you tell the nosey stranger in the grocery store?

A final note on coveting.  Exodus 20:17 is the 10th commandment.  It reads, “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his male or female servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”  I’ve never paid much attention to this one.  I always thought of coveting someone’s house as wanting a Hollywood home.  And I don’t have neighbors with 10,000 sq ft homes.  So, nothing to covet, right?  WRONG!  Let’s be realistic.  I may not want my neighbor’s wife (because I don’t want a wife), but I do find myself sometimes wishing I had the income she brings in and all the things that come with it.  And I’d love to have someone mow my yard or clean my house.  Hmmmm, maybe this commandment is more applicable than I’d like to admit.  Coveting gets us into all kinds of trouble.  We spend more than we have.  We get angry, jealous, moody.  We feel like we’ve failed or our spouse has failed us.  It leads to whole host of negative feelings that only bring harm on us.  Fight the urge to want what others have.  Remember, they too have sacrificed to gain those things.  They may very well have sacrificed things you aren’t willing to forfeit.

Next time, I’ll dive into the nitty gritty of it.  You’ll get to see what we actually do to survive on one income!  Until next time…

1. If My Husband Made as Much as Yours – Surviving on a Single Income – Pt. 1

 

I started writing this as a single post, but quickly realized it was dragging out.  There is so much to say on the topic of surviving, and even thriving, on a single income.  I decided to break it into a series, though I’m not sure how many parts yet.  So here we go….

I knew a woman who would make occasional comments regarding our wealth, usually when we had something that she didn’t.  “If Bob (named changed, naturally) made that much, we could go for a weekend trip to the river.” HA! this makes me laugh hysterically!  We’re not wealthy.  I don’t think she meant to be rude, but she seemed to think we had loads of money, and she made of habit of saying things like, “If my husband made as much as yours, we could have a nice house.”  One of my favorite shirts that I sleep in I bought at The Gap when I was in 8th grade.  Let’s just say that was well over 20 years ago.  I still have clothes from college, though few of them fit well.  By American standards, we aren’t wealthy.  Living on a single income isn’t easy, and it’s a conscious choice that we made and prepared for.  There are trade-offs, and we’ve made plenty of mistakes.  Here are a few ideas that have helped our journey.

There are many who say that you can’t raise a family on one income these days.  Tell that to a single parent!  However, the choice for a two-parent family to become single income is not an easy one.  It takes work, planning, and discipline.  Even if you choose to be dual income, it is wise to put yourself in a situation in which you could make it on one income.  Kids get sick.  Babies arrive.  Companies downsize.  Spouses pass away.  Parents need care.  Better to be prepared than caught off guard, especially when it comes to providing for your family.

In the end, it is important to be at peace with your decision.  If you decide to be single income, don’t whine about it.  You chose it!  Embrace it!  Living on less isn’t easy, but it can be rewarding if you CHOOSE to accept the rewards.  The rewards are not tangible, which is difficult in a materialistic society.  People know your wealth based on the things you own.  Time with your children, on the other hand, cannot be measured with dollars or new cars.

Before I get into how we do it, I want to debunk a few myths on single-income savings.  Some experts say you can save tons of money by Mom (or Dad) staying home.  And some of their examples are totally bogus.

  • Get rid of a vehicle.  Um, ya.  That’ll be peachy.  You go from working in an office, having social contact to being trapped in a house  All.Day.Long. with small children.  The savings on the car payment won’t even begin to cover the cost of your therapist.
  • Gas Savings.  These experts say you won’t be commuting, so you won’t be buying as much gas.  Ask any mom how much gas they spend driving their kids around.  If you stay home with your kids, you’ll be heading to the park, the pool, play dates, and anywhere else that helps everyone stay sane.  The increased gas cost will reduce the need for the therapist.
  • My favorite, however, is the clothing savings.  I guess these experts think stay at home moms will dig through the neighbor’s garbage for fabric scraps to sew their own clothes.  I don’t even know how to work a sewing machine, so I either go naked or buy them.  No you don’t need career apparel, but you still need clothes to wear to the grocery store, church, the occasional date with hubby, etc.  Unless you live in a nudist commune.  Then by all means, enjoy the savings.  But don’t invite me over for a visit.  If you’re anything like me, your butt gets bigger every year and you have to replace those clothes.  That, or the kids decorate your favorite shirt with Sharpies.
  • Dining out will cease since Mom (or Dad) is staying home to prepare nutritious home cooked meals.  Ok, my first year at home was the exact opposite.  I manage to scrape the spit-up off my third outfit of the day, spray on some perfume, and have the diaper bag packed by 5:18.  That’s exactly when hubby walked through the door.  Before he could sit down, I turned him around, headed out the door, and said, “Where would you like to go to dinner?”  Of course, only places that served margaritas were permitted.  We spent a fortune eating out in the beginning.

In the next post I’ll talk about setting a purpose.  Probably more than that.  I’m still writing this all out and trying to divide it so it’s actually useful!

Stay tuned….