I've decided that if and when I get a job, I'd like to separate our finances. This is not to say that I will not take the responsibility for paying back my loan. I will take full responsibility. However, I'd really like to try splitting up the finances. Give my husband an opportunity to feel what it feels like to have a little freedom with his money. Waste it. Blow it. Save it.
I think it would be a good experience for him so see. I've done some research online and found some websites that give some pointers on how to divide up the expenses. I'm a fan of percentages. If my percentage of the income is 40%, then I pay 40% of the expenses. I thought about stuff like groceries and gas. When one person pays for something, then the other one has to reimburse the other one for the percentage. I think it would be easier to have our own cars, but that may not happen right away. I'm really thinking pretty seriously about it.
The last full time job I had I was very close to it when I resented yet another thing of mine being sold to meet expenses. This time is was another car. Yes. I'd had another car of mine sold, and a scooter. All cash I never saw yet disappeared.
Showing posts with label Is That So Difficult?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Is That So Difficult?. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Parenting 201
I had what I think may have been a bit of an "a-ha" moment. An epiphany, if you will. Parenting took a lot out of me. I gave up job opportunities, did without, passed up, skipped over, rescheduled, dropped, so many things, it just got to be natural. I loved being a mother to my son. He's such a good kid, I couldn't imagine my life without him. However, I must admit it took a lot out of me. I'm kind of tired of the idea. He was a bit of a late bloomer, had a few stutter starts, tried a lot of things, but think he's really going to make it. He's considerate, respectful, a hard worker. It wasn't easy. If you've ready any of my other entries you know that he joined the Air Force and has been away at basic for three weeks today. Not being able to worry about him has been so freeing. My mind wants to think about other things besides him and it feels good. I know that I did the absolute very best job I could have raising my son. I have very few regrets. What ones I do are so insignificant, I know he'll figure it out. I'm ready to move into the next phase of my life and I'm excited!
However, there's one catch.
I have someone living in my house that apparently still needs parenting even into his middle forties and I'm pretty angry about it. Actually, I'm not angry about it anymore. Say like up until yesterday when he did something really juvenile when I decided he could do those things, I wasn't going to let it drag me down. Where in actuality I laid down on the bed for 30 seconds and cried that I didn't want to do "this" whatever "this" was. I sobbed.
The truth was, he'd lied to me. Well, maybe not lied, but he'd done a trademark "in-laws" move. He manipulated me the way he would have manipulated his parents to get them to let him do what he wants to do. He wanted to buy something he knew he shouldn't. He knows our situation. He knows we don't have extra money. See, whenever his parents would say there was no money, it would be because something new had been bought like a TV or a car. Then there would be a comment that they didn't have money because they'd just made the purchase. Then eventually there would be another purchase and that would put them in that same situation they felt they needed to state, "We don't have extra money." This cycle continued and continued.
Meanwhile, his mother would buy expensive clothes for my sister in law and hide them in the trunk. Sneak them into the house and then act as if she "had" that particular item. One time, there was a coat that she'd been forbidden to have. His mother bought her the coat and his dad recognized it. All hell broke loose that day. She got to keep the coat. This sneaky, manipulating, lieing stuff is natural in their family.
The problem I return to is I don't want to be the parent. I'm done parenting. I don't want to be lied to or manipulated so he can get what he wants. He's an adult. He knows our situation, he knows he shouldn't be making extra purchases, yet he still feels the need to lie to me about it. Oh my God. I wish he'd grow up. If he wants to buy something, I have no problem with him buy it. He just needs to remember that it's not going to be anyone's fault but his when we don't have enough money. Every day in the adult world is full of decisions that we make. We make them knowing all the facts and knowing we probably shouldn't anyway, but we do and then we deal with the consequences.
However, there's one catch.
I have someone living in my house that apparently still needs parenting even into his middle forties and I'm pretty angry about it. Actually, I'm not angry about it anymore. Say like up until yesterday when he did something really juvenile when I decided he could do those things, I wasn't going to let it drag me down. Where in actuality I laid down on the bed for 30 seconds and cried that I didn't want to do "this" whatever "this" was. I sobbed.
The truth was, he'd lied to me. Well, maybe not lied, but he'd done a trademark "in-laws" move. He manipulated me the way he would have manipulated his parents to get them to let him do what he wants to do. He wanted to buy something he knew he shouldn't. He knows our situation. He knows we don't have extra money. See, whenever his parents would say there was no money, it would be because something new had been bought like a TV or a car. Then there would be a comment that they didn't have money because they'd just made the purchase. Then eventually there would be another purchase and that would put them in that same situation they felt they needed to state, "We don't have extra money." This cycle continued and continued.
Meanwhile, his mother would buy expensive clothes for my sister in law and hide them in the trunk. Sneak them into the house and then act as if she "had" that particular item. One time, there was a coat that she'd been forbidden to have. His mother bought her the coat and his dad recognized it. All hell broke loose that day. She got to keep the coat. This sneaky, manipulating, lieing stuff is natural in their family.
The problem I return to is I don't want to be the parent. I'm done parenting. I don't want to be lied to or manipulated so he can get what he wants. He's an adult. He knows our situation, he knows he shouldn't be making extra purchases, yet he still feels the need to lie to me about it. Oh my God. I wish he'd grow up. If he wants to buy something, I have no problem with him buy it. He just needs to remember that it's not going to be anyone's fault but his when we don't have enough money. Every day in the adult world is full of decisions that we make. We make them knowing all the facts and knowing we probably shouldn't anyway, but we do and then we deal with the consequences.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
The Things I Do a.k.a. "Why I Won't Get a Full Time Job"
I have a relatively short list of things I do every day no matter what day of the week it is--no matter what my plans for the day are.
This comes to my mind because we went away for part of the day yesterday. We left around 9:30 and go home about 6:00 so it wasn't a huge day away, but it was enough to interrupt the usual flow of things around here.
When I wake up I immediately do a handful of things that aren't necessarily all in the same order, but I do eventually get around to all these things by around 10:30:
scoop litter
feed/water outside cats
water plants
clean up kitchen/dining room area
think about lunch/dinner
ride my bike or walk on treadmill
general pick up of clutter
wash/dry/fold a load of clothes if necessary
load/run/unload dishwasher
Floors vacuum/"mop" -- I use quotes because I use a Hoover FloorMate
This does not include the things I do, weekly, monthly and so on. There are many things I do regularly that take up other portions of my day, but that's not what this is about.
Instead I got up yesterday and did none of those things. I toddled off with my husband for a day of whimsy. When I got home, it was all waiting for me. Dishes, clutter, cat poo, no exercise. My husband on the other hand had nothing on his plate for the evening. I told him to study his Sunday School lesson until he felt comfortable. I had some things I could do and then we could run over to Wal-Mart to pick up some things I'd been putting off for quite some time.
Warning: Approaching Side Note!
I desperately need something to catch the sand by the back door. My family all but refuses to remove their shoes when they come inside. When I say something about it, there is much eye rolling and an effort is made under my watchful eye, but soon there are mountains of sand piled up around the back door.
The other day, I actually saw my husband walk over to our beautiful and irreplaceable tropical print area rug and WIPE HIS BARE FEET on it!
I calmly asked him what he was doing.
"I felt something on my foot." He said.
"Did it feel anything like sand from outside and litter from the leak in the garbage bag you carried through here this morning?" I said.
"I wasn't wiping my feet." He said.
"That's funny. Because this--" I made the motion of wiping my feet on the same spot of carpet he'd just wiped his feet on. "--looks like wiping ones feet on a carpet."
He didn't seem to care or be bothered by me pointing it out to him. Where did this man grow up? A grass hut?
So I made much about getting out the Floormate and doing the kitchen floor. It was 10:30 at night.
So I am going to buy some indoor/outdoor carpet squares to try to remedy this 10 year old problem once and for all. One for outside and one for inside.
He studied his Sunday School lesson for about an hour. I walked on my treadmill, poured myself a glass of wine and sat down in front of the TV. It was after 8:00 and I'd already had two glasses of wine and was eyeing a Red Velvet cake on the counter when he finally asked me if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart.
I said no. One more night on a 10 year old problem wouldn't hurt anything. That's how we roll.
So he eventually moved to the bed with my laptop to look at coins and I watched another hour of TV until I was in such a stupor from Red Velvet cake and Black Swan Reisling I went to bed. He turned off the light and continued looking at coins well into the night.
Everything I didn't do yesterday was waiting for me today including a new day's worth of everything on that list. I was up around 5:30 unable to sleep so hit the computer and looked at urban legends for several hours. He came out around 8:30, ready to go to Sunday School. He read through his lesson--again--and dressed for church.
He wants to go to a gun show with our son. My son is very much into guns and I looked at it as an opportunity for them to spend some time together. Off they went. Three days had now gone by and he had not done a single thing to pick up behind himself or to maintain our home. This is how he is. If he has absolutely nothing else to do, he will pick from a myriad of possibilities and that will be his contribution for sometimes as much as a week or more. Sometimes his "help" is nothing more than a hindrance because he leaves a wake of mess behind himself.
I'm still waiting for him to clean his mess from fixing the hot water heater over a week ago. Hot water heater had been leaking slowly for a very long time. A bucket--full of dryer lint--placed under it finally filled. He just went outside and poured the water in the grass. Plastic bag and all right there by the side door. Where did this man grow up?
So, you still may ask, what does this have to do with me getting a full time job? Because in my 25 years of marriage I've had a few full time jobs and I've had numerous part-time jobs. The last full time job I had was a perfect opportunity. I sat my husband and my then high school aged son down and told them about it. I told them I would need help. I wasn't going to do everything and life would cease to exist the way it had. We'd have quite a bit of extra money, but all those things come with trade-offs. Both of them agreed to help with keeping the house clean and pitching in with other things like meals and maintenance. I was not going to work a full-time job and come home to everything I did around the house.
They agreed.
As you might have guessed, it didn't last. Within a few weeks--not even months--their worlds were back to the way they always were. I was working a 50 hour week, still teaching privately and managing to do all those things around the house. I was worn out and burned out. My dream of getting the same respect for a long day at work was shot down. I just didn't understand why I didn't get the same respect when my work day ended--er, seldom ended.
I have made three attempts to work at a full time or part time job and have never got the respect a man receives from a day of work. No matter what it was I have done, it was never as valuable as what my husband did. There was one brief period of time that between the full time job I was working and teaching at home, I made more money than my husband. I remember his attitude changing. There was no way I was making more money than him. I showed him the figures.
He had to believe.
I had to quit.
I couldn't keep up the pace.
I probably haven't done a very good job of explaining myself here, but I believe that's not the point here. The point is figuring out what my next step is to be. Where I am to go next and what I am to do next.
For now, the day I get a full time job is the day I leave my husband for good and never look back for an instance.
Well, the house is empty for a few hours and I've got to get to the things I do on the "first" of each month, but that's another list another way that I contribute around here that goes, for the most part, unnoticed until a day like yesterday.
This comes to my mind because we went away for part of the day yesterday. We left around 9:30 and go home about 6:00 so it wasn't a huge day away, but it was enough to interrupt the usual flow of things around here.
When I wake up I immediately do a handful of things that aren't necessarily all in the same order, but I do eventually get around to all these things by around 10:30:
scoop litter
feed/water outside cats
water plants
clean up kitchen/dining room area
think about lunch/dinner
ride my bike or walk on treadmill
general pick up of clutter
wash/dry/fold a load of clothes if necessary
load/run/unload dishwasher
Floors vacuum/"mop" -- I use quotes because I use a Hoover FloorMate
This does not include the things I do, weekly, monthly and so on. There are many things I do regularly that take up other portions of my day, but that's not what this is about.
Instead I got up yesterday and did none of those things. I toddled off with my husband for a day of whimsy. When I got home, it was all waiting for me. Dishes, clutter, cat poo, no exercise. My husband on the other hand had nothing on his plate for the evening. I told him to study his Sunday School lesson until he felt comfortable. I had some things I could do and then we could run over to Wal-Mart to pick up some things I'd been putting off for quite some time.
Warning: Approaching Side Note!
I desperately need something to catch the sand by the back door. My family all but refuses to remove their shoes when they come inside. When I say something about it, there is much eye rolling and an effort is made under my watchful eye, but soon there are mountains of sand piled up around the back door.
The other day, I actually saw my husband walk over to our beautiful and irreplaceable tropical print area rug and WIPE HIS BARE FEET on it!
I calmly asked him what he was doing.
"I felt something on my foot." He said.
"Did it feel anything like sand from outside and litter from the leak in the garbage bag you carried through here this morning?" I said.
"I wasn't wiping my feet." He said.
"That's funny. Because this--" I made the motion of wiping my feet on the same spot of carpet he'd just wiped his feet on. "--looks like wiping ones feet on a carpet."
He didn't seem to care or be bothered by me pointing it out to him. Where did this man grow up? A grass hut?
So I made much about getting out the Floormate and doing the kitchen floor. It was 10:30 at night.
So I am going to buy some indoor/outdoor carpet squares to try to remedy this 10 year old problem once and for all. One for outside and one for inside.
He studied his Sunday School lesson for about an hour. I walked on my treadmill, poured myself a glass of wine and sat down in front of the TV. It was after 8:00 and I'd already had two glasses of wine and was eyeing a Red Velvet cake on the counter when he finally asked me if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart.
I said no. One more night on a 10 year old problem wouldn't hurt anything. That's how we roll.
So he eventually moved to the bed with my laptop to look at coins and I watched another hour of TV until I was in such a stupor from Red Velvet cake and Black Swan Reisling I went to bed. He turned off the light and continued looking at coins well into the night.
Everything I didn't do yesterday was waiting for me today including a new day's worth of everything on that list. I was up around 5:30 unable to sleep so hit the computer and looked at urban legends for several hours. He came out around 8:30, ready to go to Sunday School. He read through his lesson--again--and dressed for church.
He wants to go to a gun show with our son. My son is very much into guns and I looked at it as an opportunity for them to spend some time together. Off they went. Three days had now gone by and he had not done a single thing to pick up behind himself or to maintain our home. This is how he is. If he has absolutely nothing else to do, he will pick from a myriad of possibilities and that will be his contribution for sometimes as much as a week or more. Sometimes his "help" is nothing more than a hindrance because he leaves a wake of mess behind himself.
I'm still waiting for him to clean his mess from fixing the hot water heater over a week ago. Hot water heater had been leaking slowly for a very long time. A bucket--full of dryer lint--placed under it finally filled. He just went outside and poured the water in the grass. Plastic bag and all right there by the side door. Where did this man grow up?
So, you still may ask, what does this have to do with me getting a full time job? Because in my 25 years of marriage I've had a few full time jobs and I've had numerous part-time jobs. The last full time job I had was a perfect opportunity. I sat my husband and my then high school aged son down and told them about it. I told them I would need help. I wasn't going to do everything and life would cease to exist the way it had. We'd have quite a bit of extra money, but all those things come with trade-offs. Both of them agreed to help with keeping the house clean and pitching in with other things like meals and maintenance. I was not going to work a full-time job and come home to everything I did around the house.
They agreed.
As you might have guessed, it didn't last. Within a few weeks--not even months--their worlds were back to the way they always were. I was working a 50 hour week, still teaching privately and managing to do all those things around the house. I was worn out and burned out. My dream of getting the same respect for a long day at work was shot down. I just didn't understand why I didn't get the same respect when my work day ended--er, seldom ended.
I have made three attempts to work at a full time or part time job and have never got the respect a man receives from a day of work. No matter what it was I have done, it was never as valuable as what my husband did. There was one brief period of time that between the full time job I was working and teaching at home, I made more money than my husband. I remember his attitude changing. There was no way I was making more money than him. I showed him the figures.
He had to believe.
I had to quit.
I couldn't keep up the pace.
I probably haven't done a very good job of explaining myself here, but I believe that's not the point here. The point is figuring out what my next step is to be. Where I am to go next and what I am to do next.
For now, the day I get a full time job is the day I leave my husband for good and never look back for an instance.
Well, the house is empty for a few hours and I've got to get to the things I do on the "first" of each month, but that's another list another way that I contribute around here that goes, for the most part, unnoticed until a day like yesterday.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Is That So Difficult?: I Just Want His Clothes to Fit
My husband has a flat butt and I'm sick of looking at his pants/jeans sagging like he's wearing a day-old dirty diaper. Now I know right now that we don't have the money for him to go buy seven new pairs of jeans just because he looks like he's packing a load, but there has to be an answer. One pair of jeans that actually fit his ass and I'd spend 100 dollars.
I looked at a few "answer" websites that were no help at all. In fact, I just got angry. I can't believe these articles actually claim to help a man shop for jeans. I tell you what I'm looking for, I'm looking for a pair of jeans that fit him. I don't want to read about snaps, buttons, pockets or stitching. I don't care about the color of the blue. I want them to FIT HIM!
It doesn't seem to bother him. I mention it when his jeans are going especially "droopy drawer" on him. He laughs it off and tells me that's just the way it is. I don't think so. There has to be a men's jean out there designed especially for Flat Ass Syndrome and I don't need to be told to look for a pair of jeans that fits across the behind, because that's what I'm doing. I'm looking for a pair of jeans that fit him. Is that so difficult?
I looked at a few "answer" websites that were no help at all. In fact, I just got angry. I can't believe these articles actually claim to help a man shop for jeans. I tell you what I'm looking for, I'm looking for a pair of jeans that fit him. I don't want to read about snaps, buttons, pockets or stitching. I don't care about the color of the blue. I want them to FIT HIM!
It doesn't seem to bother him. I mention it when his jeans are going especially "droopy drawer" on him. He laughs it off and tells me that's just the way it is. I don't think so. There has to be a men's jean out there designed especially for Flat Ass Syndrome and I don't need to be told to look for a pair of jeans that fits across the behind, because that's what I'm doing. I'm looking for a pair of jeans that fit him. Is that so difficult?
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