For the past five years of my life, I have put a bulk of my paycheck towards health insurance.

I've been into math lately (as you can tell by my last post), so I'm going to break down those numbers for you:

$160/pay period toward health insurance
x 26 pay periods a year
x 5 years
_________________
= $20,800 in all
That's a lot, isn't it?

It's enough to put a sizeable down payment on a home. It's enough to buy a new car. It's enough money that-- if I had it in my possession this very moment-- I'd probably quit my job to stay at home with G.

Until I'd crunched those numbers, I'd never understood why 45 million Americans currently don't have health insurance. Moreover, I'd never understood why some 20 million of those-- who can afford health insurance-- actively choose not to purchase it.

Saving money is a big deal for DH and I right now, and we're looking to save money in every way possible. I just had my home and auto insurance policies re-written, saving me about $350 a year. Now, I'm actually considering becoming a statistic...

...make that 45,000,001 Americans without health insurance.

Yup, I am preparing to cancel my employee-sponsored health insurance policy. The move will save me more than $4,000 a year. Now, I'm no expert on medical billing and coding, but I know that's a lot of money!

I realize there are risks that come along with this decision. What would happen if I got severely sick or injured? What if I became pregnant again (although, as we all know from this recent post, that is unlikely to happen)? There are all these "what ifs" running through my mind, it's tough to keep track.

Honestly, this is a gamble, but it's a gamble I'm planning for. Over the next three months, I have eye doctor, dentist, GP, OB/GYN, and dermatologist appointments scheduled, getting my health 100% squared away before I cancel my policy. I'm planning to remain off that policy for one calendar year, then re-evaluate. During that year, I will most likely pay for things like semi-annual dental appointments out of pocket using some of the $4,000 that would have gone to my insurance premiums; however, most of that cash will go directly into our savings account.

A friend of mine who works in a doctor's office (she used to be a teacher, but recently got her medical coding certification) thinks I'm nuts. My mom thinks I'm nuts. I'm sure the head of the HR department at work is going to think I'm nuts too.

What do YOU think?

Am I nuts? Or would you be willing to take a $4,000 gamble like this?
I should emphasize, this is ONLY for MY care-- DH & G would remain on his insurance plan!

How much do you have to spend on your college degree(s) to feel good about your education?

If you'd asked me that question 10 years ago, I would have had a vastly different answer than I do today.

10 years ago, I was about to begin my freshman year at Duke. I was about to embark on what to this day remains the biggest financial decision of my life. I was about to shoulder more debt than I ever thought possible.

Back in March, I wrote this post about my decision to assume financial responsibility for the debt I incurred while working toward my undergrad and graduate degrees-- all $54,000 of it. But while I was preparing to write today's post, I realized that the $54,000 is only part of my financial picture; in fact, it's roughly one-quarter of the picture.

I can't believe that I never totaled up what it cost me to get my bachelor's and my Master's degrees. I am a type-A, OCD, nuts & bolts type of gal who likes to do a spreadsheet on everything from monthly expenses to long-term investments to what I plan on buying (and spending) for Christmas. So to have never looked at the bigger picture of my college degrees was more than a bit unusual for me.

Want to know what I (ok, ok, mostly my parents, as that $54,000 student loan is now down to about $14K) spent for my five years on campus?

$199,000
I know, it's outrageous.

To put it in perspective, it's more than DH & I spent on our current home ($146,900), cars ($13,995 and $16,550, respectively) and most recent vacation ($1800)... combined.

It would be better-- or at least, more manageable-- if I had pursued degree programs that had a big payoff at the end of the educational rainbow... something like an MBA or a JD, or the obvious, an MD. But no, I have a Master's of Science in Broadcasting, an industry where the majority of my coworkers over the age of 45 don't even have a college degree period. Let's just say, top of the line education still isn't highly valued in my workplace.

That's not to poo-poo my degree, or the hard work it took to earn it. Having attended a school (schools, actually) with global name recognition is helpful. I've never had to explain where my school was located, or what it's known for (although most people tend to associate both schools with basketball). I also think having a pair of marquee degrees makes my resume stand out; I know for a fact that the only reason I was even hired at my first job was because the general manager's daughter went to Duke, and he liked that about me (unfortunately, he did not end up liking me, but that's a different post for a different day).

But despite those perks-- and my obvious school pride-- I wonder if I made the right decision with my path to and through college. I have a friend who earned her Master's degree through one of many online schools out there, and she is happily employed, working in a field she loves, with absolute minimal debt. As for me, I hope to one day leave journalism for a more family-friendly industry, and I already know that I won't pay off the remainder of my student loans until G is a senior in high school.

If I had to do it all again, I'm not sure I'd do it the same way. I think I might have tried what my friend did, and tried an online school for my graduate degree, instead of attending a physical school campus. Actually, I'm thinking about doing just that for my Ph.D..

What about you? Where did you go for school? Are you happy with your degree? What you paid for it? Or, conversely, what are your plans to help your children pay for school? Will you encourage them to do things differently than you did?

I am not a card-carrying member of the NRA.

Maybe it's because my mom wouldn't let me play with squirt guns (they were too violent). Maybe it's because I didn't see an actual real gun until I hit my 20s (I was too sheltered). Maybe it's because I don't believe that old saying "Guns don't kill people; people kill people (it's too cliche).

But I HATE guns.

The fact that DH is a law enforcement officer-- and is hence required to carry a gun and store it at our home-- is hands down the toughest part of his career for me. It's not the fact that he works with accused killers and rapists on a daily basis. It's not the fact that these accused killers and rapists often threaten to do awful things to him, me, and G. I can't stand knowing that he has a deadly weapon in his possession. My DH? With a gun? The man can't even merge onto the interstate safely (don't get me started!), how can he control a gun? (And I hope you'll excuse me-- I have no idea what kind of gun he carries; I don't want to know.)

We managed to get around this gun issue for sometime. When we moved from Georgia to our current home four years ago, DH chose not to get certified for his weapon. He didn't need it working in the detention center (where, blessedly, there are NO deadly weapons; just tasers, bully sticks, and a whole lotta pepper spray), and we didn't want a gun at home while we were trying to have a baby.

But two weeks ago, DH finally had to bite the bullet (baaaaad pun, Elizabeth) and qualify for his gun.

When I mentioned this casually to a friend who was supposed to come over for a playdate, she balked.

My Friend: "He has a gun in the house?"

Me: "As of tomorrow he does."

My Friend: "Is it loaded?"

Me: "No, he takes the bullets out when he gets home from work."

My Friend: "Is it secured?"

Me: "Yes, we just got a gun safe for it."

My Friend: "We-eelllllll.... (long, pregnant pause)... I don't think next Wednesday is good for us. Maybe the next week at my house?"

DID YOU CATCH THAT?

She totally bailed on our playdate because there was a gun-- locked, without bullets-- in an upstairs closet (oh dear, now if you ever find my address, break past our alarm system, and get past our ferocious bichon, you'll know EXACTLY where the gun is hidden!!!!) of a room where she has never even been!

At first, I was rather offended. I thought our friendship was tough enough to withstand the presence of a hidden weapon lurking in my home. Of course, I was just overreacting. The more I thought about it, the more I started wondering if I would be comfortable taking G to a playdate at a house where I knew there was a potentially dangerous weapon. I work in TV news; I read way too many stories about children accidentally pulling the trigger, injuring either themselves or their little friends. In fact, just this week a story about a three-year-old who died in a gun accident crossed the wires on my desk. This is serious stuff.

So, tonight I pose the question to you:

Would you hesitate before visiting a house (with a young child in tow) if you knew there was a gun inside?

$223 is laying on the floor in the middle of the mall.

There's no one around you, no one to notice you pick up the wad of cash and stuff it in your purse.

What do you do?

G and I found ourselves (LOL, I say "ourselves", as if G was an active part of this situation; if it had been up to her, she probably would have tried to put it in her mouth like she does with everything else; seriously, people, when is the "everything I see goes into my mouth" stage going to end?) in this predicament Saturday.

We'd just left Gymboree (where, I should add, I only shop when my mom sends me a GymBucks coupon; otherwise, I can't afford to shop there) when we made a sharp right turn to head into Dillard's and back to our car. Then, right there in front of the jewelry store, I saw something on the ground. At first, I thought it was just trash. As I moved closer to pick it up and throw it away, I noticed it wasn't trash, but cash-- $223, to be exact.

I picked up the month. I saw there was a crisp $100 bill on the very top of the fold... no name, nothing to identify who the money belonged to, or from where it had come.

I looked to my left. Nobody.

I looked to my right. Nobody.

I clenched the money in my hands and started walking...

Right into the jewelry store.

There were two workers on duty. I told them I'd found this money in front of their store, and waited as they called mall security to pick it up. On the way out of the store, the man behind the counter said something I didn't expect to hear.

"Bless you," he said.

I turned around. "For what?" I asked.

"For doing the right thing," he replied. "Most people would have pocketed the money and wouldn't have thought twice."

I paused. "Well," I began, "the person who lost that money probably needs it more than I do."

And then I left.

I got to my car, put G into her carseat, dropped my head onto the steering wheel, and balled like a baby.

The truth is, we do need that money. We have debt. We have bills. We have plans. And while $223 isn't winning the lottery, it's certainly enough cash to make a difference in our monthly budget.

Then I remembered the man's kind words as I'd left the store. I thought about the example I'd set for my daughter. I remembered the countless lessons from the Bible, that teach us that we reap what we sow.

I still can't believe I gave up that money. Free money. But I know I did the right thing...

What would YOU have done in my situation? Honestly?

*****************************

UPDATE! I just got off the phone with my local police department; the money was actually turned into THEM, not into mall security. So, good news, it has found its owner! I feel like the Good Samaritan I set out to be.

Hey everybody! I have a special treat for everybody! Monique, from "Stretching The One Income Dollar" has agreed to do a guest post on my blog. She's an expert on saving money; she literally wrote the book (you'll see in her post below) on it! Her site is amazing (click the button below to pay a visit; you absolutely MUST!), and has so many well-organized tips and advice, it will keep you occupied for literally hours! I hope you enjoy her story!




You can live on one income and have a “richer” life.

You may be a single mom who has to raise her child on her own, looking to hear about others who are also in the same boat as you.

You may just want to pick up a few tips on how to make ends meet. You may be a family managing on one income because of job loss, disability or just want to stay out of the ratrace. Whatever your reasons, I’m glad to have you along. This book is a collection of stories I have gathered from other one income households, and how they manage as they do, living on one income. It’s not impossible.

Choices may need to be made – wants versus needs, etc.

Myself, I have always been a pennypincher from day one. As a teenager growing up at home, I clipped coupons and took them shopping from time to time when mom went to the grocery store. I also clipped upc’s from product packages and sent away for rebates.

Once out on my own and later married, I continued my thrifty ways. At times we were a one income family. I worked part time from time to time over the years. I would work opposite my husband’s shifts so we wouldn’t have to pay a sitter. I always had to be careful with grocery shopping and always tried to do my part cutting back where I could to contribute to lowering the bills. Our mortgage and truck payments were quite high – he chose to have everything paid off quickly, so we struggled in the grocery department end of things. Most times we would only live on $50 every two weeks for groceries – and living up north, that was a struggle. It was good that I had family here to help at times.

During my married life, I developed anxiety and IBS, which made having a regular 9-5 job difficult.

Twenty years fast forward, I got divorced. I lived with my two daughters for three years before I met my prince charming and moved in with him. During those three years of surviving on my meager part time job pay check, it was tough. I lived in low income housing and did my best.

I am now a stay-at-homer – choosing to write this book to get myself out of the rat race and do what I enjoy – being home and looking for ways to save us money, while at the same time not changing our quality of life too much.

So whether you’re living on one income or just thinking about making the change, please enjoy the book.

Living on one income is possible. It requires careful planning and a willingness to make lifestyle changes and sacrifices. However, it can be a pathway to a rewarding life.

My book : Stretching The One Income Dollar sells on my web site.

I currently still stay home, working on my blog: Stretching the One Income Dollar. I sell travel through home with Global Travel International, with which there are always openings for anyone to do what I do from home. And if your planning a vacation,we'd love to help. All bookings can done through the site at http://www.buildacheapvacation.com.

For the past three months, pregnant women and new babies have been everywhere. My friends "A", "S", and "M" all had their second child in the past few months. My friend, "R"-- who had her first child within days of G's birth-- just found out she's expecting #2 (by the way, "R" is not this friend's real initial; I'm protecting her anonymity, because she hasn't told a ton of people she's pregnant yet... not that I think they read my blog, but you never know!). And I have a heavily pregnant coworker, whom I've watched grow over the past seven months, as she awaits the birth of her son.

If my friends haven't already had or are pregnant with a second child, they're trying. Another friend from work just told me she's trying to beat mother nature's clock as she approaches her 40th birthday. And I've had more discussions about cervical mucous, ovulation pain, and disappointment over Aunt Flo's monthly visit than I've had since G's conception two and a half years ago.

I wanted to join the bandwagon; I didn't want to be left out. DH & I had talk after talk after talk about expanding our family (and my waistline); was it the right time? were we ready financially? emotionally? was G ready?

About three months ago, we decided we were.

I had my IUD taken out, and we were off to the races. We started off good; there's nothing to rev up a couple's sex life like trying to get pregnant. You know, that urgent type of sex that doesn't really exist in a marriage except for the few times when you're trying to conceive?

But soon, I was avoiding the sex that was supposed to bring a new member into our family. I was puzzled; I wasn't sure why I was holding back. The first time around with G, I was absolutely desperate to get pregnant as quickly as possible. But I didn't feel that need this time around.

DH didn't seem to feel that need either. He also turned down offers for a late night nosh session during my peak fertility days. And I didn't get upset. What was wrong with us? Did we need a dose of the little blue pill?

You know that saying, "If all your friends were jumping off a bridge, would you do it too?" Well, in this case, having a second baby was the proverbial bridge, and yes, I was going to jump off it just because my friends were. I was going to jump off it just because that's what was expected of me, of DH, of us; G's almost 2, and we were starting to get the questions from family and friends, "When are you going to have another one?"

When I was pregnant with G, I treated it as if it were my one and only pregnancy. DH & I only set out to have one child in the first place. I enjoyed being pregnant, and there's a huge part of me that wants to be pregnant again... but there's also a part of me that doesn't want to go through the sleepness nights, the engorged breasts, the constant diaper changes.

I love my daughter-- she is my world, and in what I think is a selfish way, I want to keep her that way. I don't want to share her, not with another child, and I don't want to take any of my attention away from her. Is that wrong? It feels wrong, but I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that DH & I are on the same page with this; as of this month (I'm halfway through, and could technically be preggo, although I don't think so), we aren't trying anymore. Baby #2 is on hold, at least for now-- and maybe, forever. I'm putting it in God's hands. I know He'll tell us when is the right time to have another child, for me, for DH, for G, and for Him.

I want to apologize to the real life friends and family who are learning of our decision-- either to try for a second baby in the first place, or that we're no longer trying-- for the first time on this blog. It's been a tough decision for DH & I, and we didn't want to publicize each and every step along the way. In the end, though, I just needed to get this off my chest (with DH's approval, of course!).

I'm a mess...

I knew this was coming. I could sense it from my very core. My heart was aching with everything inside of me; it was only my head that told me that maybe, maybe I'd have a chance at keeping him with me. With us.

Then he told me-- he did it in such a public way, I could have hit him. Did he really have to tell everyone... everyone... that he didn't want to be a part of my life anymore? I mean, it's bad enough that it's over between he and I, but I didn't need the whole world to know that.

Do you remember in high school, when your boyfriend would break up with you, using the cliched line, "It's not you, it's me", and then bolt for the side of the prettiest cheerleader? That's exactly how I feel right now. He gave me that stupid line, telling me he had to leave... that he wasn't going to be able to achieve his goals here... that he'd found someone else who could make his dreams come true.

He MET SOMEONE ELSE?? Honestly, I'm so angry I could spit, so miserable I could cry, and yet, I'm all cried out. I have no tears left for him.

I gave him the best seven years of my life. I cheered him on through all his ups and downs. I supported his career 100%, and at home, I often bought things just because he liked them. I even blogged about how amazing I thought he was. Once, I almost went as far as putting his picture on a shirt, and wearing it out of the house, just to show my undying devotion to him. Can you believe that? What was I thinking?

He's gone now, and it's pretty obvious, he's not going to be coming back. My friend, Dan, said some AWFUL things about him online, and he read them (rule #1 about the internet: don't write something you don't want others to see). I mean, these were reallllllly bad comments, calling him things like "selfish", "narcissistic", and "heartless". They're all true, of course, but all those words did was solidify the fact that he's gone for good.

I don't know what to do now. I've had a couple of days to let this all sink in (he told me on Thursday), and at times, I can't believe it's real. I think I'm going to turn around, and there he'll be, wearing his gold and maroon shirt that I've always loved on him. I guess I'm in denial... that's, what, the 2nd stage of the grieving process? I guess I have a long way to go.

I'd like to think that I'll be better without him-- that we'll be better without him-- but that's hard to truly believe at this point.

So, today, I have just this message for the man who broke my heart by leaving me and not looking back:

Screw you, Lebron!
You didn't think I meant my wonderful DH, did you???

Childhood is a funny thing...

As parents, we spend days (or weeks) building up to what we think should be a very special moment. Birthdays, Halloween, Christmas-- we have these pre-conceived notions for what the day should look like, sound like, feel like. We envision rosy faces gathered around the candles on a birthday cake. We imagine four costume-clad toddlers lined up and all looking at the camera at the same time. We hope to be able to read "The Night Before Christmas" by the light of a besparkled tree, cup of hot chocolate in hand, the whole way through without interruption.

Usually, those visions come up short. Birthday cakes melt in the late-summer sun. Children refuse to wear the itchy tutus on their Halloween costumes. A too-long Christmas Eve sermon by the long-winded pastor at church means a toddler is too tired and too cranky for even the first page of a cherished book, let alone the whole thing.

Sigh.

But our children still build memories; they might not be the memories we as parents planned on, but they're memories nonetheless.

Take July 4th--

It's become routine for my parents to come into town to spend America's birthday with DH, G, & me. We spend the afternoon lounging around G's tiny plastic backyard pool (why fight the crowds at the pool we actually pay to use?), we eat a traditionally "American" dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant (what's more patriotic than fajitas and enchiladas?), then we head over to the local elementary school playground to battle thousands of other families for a 4x4 foot patch of crunchy, sun-dried grass, where we are subsequently attacked by a breed of mosquitoes I'm pretty sure are extinct up north.

Ahhhh, summer...

DH, my mother, and I spent the entire weekend getting G excited (re: not scared) for the fireworks. We implemented a Dora-like quality to the evening: dinner, sunset, fireworks! Dinner, sunset, fireworks! Boots would have been proud.

By the time the sun went to sleep (did I mention G is obsessed with the nocturnal habits of Mr. Golden Sun?), G was amped up and ready to go. As the band played (the most out-of-tune version of) the National Anthem, we quietly told her the fireworks were about to begin and handed her a special surprise reserved only for July 4th, Halloween, and New Year's:

A Glow Stick.
We could have stayed at home. We could have skipped the dinner, the crowds, the live music, the $6 sno-cones DH and my dad waited in line for 45 minutes to buy, the evening of romping under the stars. We could have all had an early bedtime, and watched the 11pm news. The fireworks were not necessary.

G quickly decided that her glow sticks were magic. With a wave of her hand and the words "Bibbity Bobbity Boo" (actually, it sounded more like "bibby boo" coming out of her mouth, but the Cinderella reference was not lost on this Disney-loving mother), G was able to command the fireworks to explode with a bang. She was so fixated on her "magic wand" that she didn't even notice when the fireworks ended, and everyone picked up their blankets, lawn chairs, and coolers and booked it to the exit. As I carried her, racing to the car to beat the post-show traffic, she proudly waved her wand screaming, "Magic wand, make more fireworks!" (aka, "Ma wan, ma mo figh wok!").

When she woke up Monday morning, the first thing G asked for was her magic wand. Even though the Dollar Tree glow sticks had lost their ability to self-illuminate, they hadn't lost their ability to elicit joy from my toddler.

She won't remember the fireworks, but I will. I'll remember how they lit up her face, as I watched her, watching the night sky, commanding it into an ephemeral majesty. The wand itself might not be magic... but the power my daughter has on me absolutely is.

What are some of the memories you have of your child's special occasions?

Wow! Ya'll blew me away-- 292 entries for the $50 gift card to Athletica.net? Holy cow!

Without further ado, the winner selected by Random.org is...

#231: LisaD33611
The winning comment was:

lisad33611 said...

I like you on Facebook (Lisa Duncan)
comment 2 of 3
duncan.lisa(at)gmail.com
Lisa, you have 48 hours to email me to claim your prize. If I haven't heard from you by 9am EST Wednesday, I will draw another winner!

Thank you to everyone who entered. I don't have any future giveaways lined up right now, but if you have a product you're interested in giving away, don't hesitate to let me know.

Also, does anyone know how to (1) get numbered comments or (2) do a freeze screen on Random.org so that I can show the actual number chosen? I'd appreciate some help if you can :)

Speaking of giveaways... I won one myself this week! G will soon be sporting this adorable shirt from Zoe & Sprout, courtesy of The Freebie Junkie! Thanks, ladies!

THIS GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED.


Hey everybody!

I am EXTENDING today's deadline for the $50 gift card to Athletica.net (yoga, workout, lounge wear, and more!) from 12pm til 5pm. The reason? I won't be here at 12pm to close the comments! So, for a last chance to enter...

CLICK HERE!

Good luck!

Be honest-- you've lied before. I know I have. You probably have too. Now that we've all accepted the fact, let's make sure no one casts the first stone. We're all guilty of this sin.

I've been thinking a lot about lies (and the liars who tell them) over the past few days. It began when I found this link on Babycenter.com (a website I was addicted to during the time DH & I were trying to get pregnant with G, and still frequent today). In it, women-- literally hundreds of them-- divulge their deepest darkest secrets. It's like a car accident on the freeway; you KNOW you shouldn't look, but you can't look away. Women were talking about cheating on their husbands, smoking pot all the live long day, and hating their best-friends-mothers-in-law-next-door-neighbor-bosses-etc. It was a juicy read, and kept me highly entertained during my dinner break at work.

It dawned on me that lies-- when you break it down-- really fall into two categories. The first category is "lies you tell you protect others". For instance, you are going shopping with your best friend (assuming you don't hate her, as according to that Babycenter threat, many women apparently do). When she tries on a new dress, she asks if it makes her look fat. Instead of telling her, "Yes, you look like a giant hippo," you lie and remark, "I don't think the pattern is the most flattering to your figure; how about something without horizontal stripes?" Did you lie? Yes, technically. But you did it to protect someone else's feelings. I'm not sure if that's noble or not, but it at least passes as a respectable option.

Then there's the second category of lies-- the "lies you tell to protect yourself". I think this is the far more dangerous category of lies, because after time, you can actually come to believe the falsehoods you're telling. Do you remember George O'Leary? Probably not, because I know most of you don't follow sports like I do. But good ole George used to be the head football coach at Georgia Tech. Then, he got the job offer of a lifetime-- head coach at Notre Dame. So George sent over a resume, that included a few lies... including some big lies about his level of education. Well, the folks at Notre Dame found out about them, and not only did George not get his dream job, he didn't get any job for quite some time.

Why did George lie in the first place? To protect himself. He wanted people to think he was more educated than he actually was; he was protecting his own ego. I see people do that a lot; whether it's lying to others (and often times, yourself) about your weight (maybe to justify a late night snack?), or about your financial status (of course we own our car), or even your marriage (we are just so perfect!), the bottom line is, we usually do it because we want people to think more highly of us.

But you know what? When I tell a lie-- oh yeah, I'm as guilty as the next guy-- I only hurt myself. I realize when I tell a lie-- particularly a lie that falls into that second category-- I'm only short-changing myself. I'm basically saying, "Hey, I don't think highly enough of me to tell you the truth."

And likewise, when we lie to someone to protect their feelings, we're saying to them, "I don't think you're strong/smart/wise enough to handle what I really think." We're selling THEM short as well.

Don't we all deserve a little better?
Just one more thing...

Do you think you'd be able to remain friends with someone you know lied to you? That is to say, if you knew they'd told you lie after lie, would you ever be able to trust them enough to believe what they say, even about the most mundane things?

Is any "little white lie" really as small and innocent as the phrase implies?