Tuesday, January 15, 2013
I nutted up a little bit at Toyota yesterday, only on the inside and I held it in right well. I was making copies of Sabrina's new (old) car key for her, Home Depot had done a crappy job on my Nissan truck key replacement, telling me it'd be better to just go to the Dealer. You pretty much have to prove you haven't stolen the car.
The court house was next, to change out the title, where I ended up talking with a tax commissioner who explained how to save better on my property taxes. "Oh my, Sweetheart," I sure did say, "Where've you been all my life?"
I fancy myself fairly well versed on money management then I feel infinitely ignorant when I learn better. The most clearly bone-headed mistake I ever made was in leasing a car in 1994, when car leases first came out. I jumped right on that dumb bandwagon. That Honda Civic was the last new car I ever drove.
An older son went through a breakup yesterday, taking it out on all of us, me using my best disengagement tactics, Michael had texted in the middle of all this, I texted back asking him to pray for this emotionally demanding but usually unregulated from within son, eventually the beast was calmed, even apologizing before bed, but not before two other teenagers melted down when I addressed them sharply for breaking a big rule.
I don't care if you weren't technically misbehaving when you broke it. That's not the point. THAT you willfully broke it leads to all sorts of trust issues. Any level of deceit is onerous. I need to be able to safely assume you are following directions when they're given to you - this for the safety of you and every one else living in our home.
Then they wanna have a text argument with me. No, thank you. I'm not a teenager. And the irony of rudely texting me when I'm the one paying your sky-high phone bill? Oh my, maturity sure is hard to come by, ain't it?
I'd rewarded myself for doing all of my very boring errands by picking up sacks of curbside leaves in town, thinking about a Suze Orman show before Christmas where she'd jumped on someone for buying themselves a Christmas present as a reward for working hard. "That's not what Christmas is all about," she'd lamented, "What are you? Two?"
Daniel was downloading some Orman podcasts yesterday when he'd left for the long drive to Fort Stewart.
I'm allowing Sabrina to add her car to my longtime multiple discounted State Farm policy with its high deductibles, where her A/B Honor Roll and her Driver's Ed Course also lowers the bill to about $55 monthly just for her 1996 car. Were she to get it on her own I'm quite sure it'd be over $100 monthly. I told her to call around and get those figures just so she'd feel confident in our decision.
That said, any tickets or driving infractions that'd result in my rates skyrocketing will mean her getting her own policy. I'll pay as long as I'm able to do so, and as long as she's making good decisions.
Again parents - those who think age 18 means you're off the hook as a parent - that's not been our case at all.
Martin still has another year of high school here at 19, many other kids have lived with me way into their 20s.
The financial burden of being the Mom never seems to lessen at all. I just keep playing with the numbers, manipulating the spreadsheets, cutting back again and again, and trying to make this all work - and somehow it does,
Oh, there ain't no somehow about it. I fully credit God for making it all happen here for us. Period.
You don't have to believe as I believe, that's your prerogative. I know what works for us though.
A grown kid needed help yesterday with his tax return issues. I gave him directions about what to do, he backtracked needing a phone number that he could've just looked up his own self, but clearly, that wasn't the issue. Sometimes just the needing of me to do something simple is just reassurance in disguise for them. I can do this.
Today I have housework and paperwork. I'll plug in my podcasts and listen to the backed up Dave Ramsey ones that I've not had time to hear. So much to learn, so little time. I have phone calls I need to make. I hate phone calls. I have cabinets in the garage to paint, a greenhouse to water where I've been growing lettuce and chard, more amaryllis to finish getting out of their dormancy stage, and about a thousand other little To Do things that need crossing off.