debt — Blog — Rowan Jetté Knox

It feels like forever since I last blogged, and yet it's only been two days.

That's what NaBloPoMo does to your brain; it makes it all efficient and stuff. I'm hoping that unfortunate ability gets turned off soon. I'm nothing if not a slacker. But how I loved that break; that glorious two-day break. I was able to watch Glee last night without thinking to myself 'Ok, so after the show I have to write something before I go into the hot tub, because after a soak I'll be too relaxed to do anything but sleep...'

See? I lead a life fraught with many challenges.

Since it's been a whopping 48 hours since my last post, I might want to do some updates on life in the Maven household.

For one, I'm starting to respond to emails again. I've been carrying tremendous guilt. For example, a long lost friend got in touch with me, I wrote her back, she wrote me back... and communication ended there. What little time I've had between a bazillion birthday parties, a disgusting amount of blogging, and all those other things I have to do in a day left me with little time to sit down and write stuff. Not only has said friend been ignored, but also the woman who advocates for my deaf children at school, and people from two committees I'm a member of.

I admit it: I was a giant pile of suck the last few weeks.

I figured I should update on a few things I talked about in the month of November. Why? Because that's about all my only slightly-caffeinated brain can come up with right now, that's why. I'm kind of a bitch before I get enough coffee in me, so I suggest you politely smile and keep reading if you know what's good for you.

The Sugar

I spoke about my sugar addiction, and how I had to cut the white stuff way back for a little while. I'm happy to say that's still happening. On the weekend I went to two birthday parties - including Intrepid's - and I did have a small piece of cake at each, but it ended there. Then last night, I tested the waters and had some donut holes (Timbits, for the Canucks) because I felt like having something sugary.

They were absolutely delicious.

But within a few minutes I felt awful: jittery, unfocused, anxious. I think the reason I never noticed before is that I was constantly feeding myself sugary stuff, whether it be in the form of a chocolate bar or a granola bar or some very sweet yogurt. I was never away from it long enough to notice the difference.

Lately, about the only sugar I tend to have most days is a spoonful in my oatmeal. Other than that, I stay away from it. So, it comes as no surprise that my un-sugary body reacted poorly to the invaders. Had I stopped at two or three Timbits like a normal person it probably wouldn't have happened. I had about ten of them and KABLAM! Super Maven was smacked down hard. I didn't like that feeling. Lesson learned.

I still eat fruit, whole grain breads and pasta, and am generally not afraid of carbs. I'm not counting calories, fat grams, or adding more exercise into my day right now. The result? My stomach is getting flatter, my jowls are less jowl-y, and I have more energy than I've had in years. Can we say "Borderline diabetic"? Oh, I think we can! If I can head off diabetes at the pass by being more mindful of my eating, all the better. And if I start looking excessively hot as a result, all the better.

Go team Maven!

Braces

Intrepid needs them. We visited the orthodontist the day after his thirteenth birthday. Fitting, really. The long and short of it is that Intrepid has a Class III underbite, which means his lower jaw is longer than it should be. Meanwhile, his upper palate is too small, the teeth are crowded, and if we don't do something now we're looking at some of the following in his future:

- Teeth jutting out the sides of his gums. Not exactly girlfriend-friendly
- Upper front teeth destroying lower front teeth by sitting on the back gums. I would have to seriously whore myself out (in a sexual way, with my eventual sugar-free slimness) to pay for implants, so let's not go there
- Lower jaw getting so long that, at the age of 21, they have to break it, remove a piece on each side, reset it and wire it shut for a few weeks while it heals. That sounds incredibly fun, doesn't it?

The bill? Somewhere around $8,000. I'm surprised my heart didn't stop right then and there. I'm sure a lot of it involves the high tech braces going onto his upper teeth to expand the jaw, but just walking into the orthodontic clinic gave me a very clear picture of what, exactly, we're paying for:

And yes, those are two of the three game consoles built into the walls of the playroom. The clinic itself is huge, brand new and state-of-the-art.

Pretty sweet, isn't it? I was too embarrassed to take a picture of the entire waiting area and instead made it look like I was only photographic my kids, but rest assured that every single parent had a smart phone and was dressed very nicely.

I see rich people.

Oh, and did I mention the robot in Texas that bends the titanium/nickel/some other metal wire to custom fit Intrepid's mouth every six to eight weeks? Or the specialized toothbrush that comes with his treatment? How about the self-serve single-shot coffee and tea station in the waiting area? Or the wheel kids can spin after a procedure that wins them anything from a $5 Dairy Queen coupon to a $25 HMV gift certificate? We're paying for extras at a high-end clinic, I'm sure. And yet, I'm pleased as punch we're going somewhere reputable and technologically advanced. I'll skimp in a lot of places, but when it comes to my gremlins' health, I don't want to mess around.

I'm happy to say that Geekster does have insurance, and that they should, theoretically, pay for half of this. Still, who knows? Insurance companies are crazy these days. This article scares me. Next thing we know, they'll say they've seen profile pictures of Intrepid on Facebook and he looks happy without braces, so they're denying the claim. Sheesh.

Debt

Ah, debt. I wrote about how we're sinking ever so slowly into a pile of it, and how I was crossing my fingers that our application to re-mortgage would be approved. When we visited the orthodontist, we hadn't heard a thing yet. So I came home with an $8000 estimate and no idea how we were going to pay our existing bills, let alone a new one.

And yet I didn't binge on sugar. I'm terribly proud of myself.

The next day - yesterday, for the record - we heard back: Mortgage approved. Everything should be done before the holidays. I'd like to say that means we're out of debt, but it actually means we get to spread the joy across 19 years. Still, it also means hundreds of dollars less every month in payments. We're canceling our line of credit and keeping only a small credit card for emergencies. This credit card, by the way, has a $1000 limit and we've told the company NOT to raise that limit without our permission. See? We can be responsible.

It also means I don't have to get one of those unfortunate job things, and instead stick to the occasional writing/editing contract. Thank goodness. All that time being a slave to the grind would really interfere with my sugar-free bonbon eating.

Learning to live on cash will be a challenge, but one we absolutely must do in order to not end up in this situation again. Any suggestions on how to save and what to save for are welcome. You be the teacher, I'll be your pupil.

That sounded kinky, didn't it? Don't run away in fear: I said I would only prostitute myself for implants.

Er... Tooth implants. Just so we're clear.

I want to be someone who has no debt and is married to someone who is also debt-free.

And then I woke up.

Funny stuff, right? Well, maybe not. I do know a select few people who don't have a cloud of balance owing hanging over their heads, don't cringe at the first sign of a bill, and for whom Christmas is not a dirty word. They are few and far between, even in my sizable circle of friends and acquaintances, but they do exist. When encountering such a person - and after the tsunami of envy retreats back into my ocean of inappropriate feelings - I like to pick their brains about how they've managed to wind up in such a good place. What I've concluded is that the debt-free are made up of three types of individuals described below:

1. The Ex-Indebted

This is the woman who used to have enough shoes in her closet to lose a small child, or the guy with a television and entertainment system impressive enough to make him both blind and deaf. They received too much schooling and not enough salary, bought a shiny new ~~penis-extender~~ sports car, and have a great deal of Facebook pictures of themselves on a beach somewhere. Or, in some more unfortunate cases, they simply fell on some really hard times. In short, they have a checkered financial past and escaped it by the skin of their teeth. These are the people who are either completely reformed cash-only spenders, or in between huge money mistakes. Either way, they currently have no debt and that's good for them. Jerks.

2. The Very Fortunate

I try very hard not to hate these people, because they are normally quite nice - just too damn lucky. We all know them: they come from a good family - or at the very least a family where mom's drinking is done mostly in private and dad's little hooker problem is swept quietly under the rug. A family where Little Darling is put through college, her wedding paid for, the down payment on her first home taken care of. She got a job through a friend right out of college and makes good coin. Rich family members fall over dead at least once every decade and she inherits money for all those overseas trips she wants to take. No major job losses, marriage break-ups, serious illnesses or dismemberment. They are good people, happy people, god awful to be around people. However, their backs are take on a funny shape due to the large, golden horse shoe stuck way up their asses. At least you look better in a skirt.

3. The Angelic One

This is the person who, for whatever reason, has it all figured out right from the start. Maybe mom and dad were great with money, or explained to the kids how they should have done things, or taught them that credit cards were only to be used in an emergency. This person pays cash for everything, saves up money while commuting by bus instead of - gasp! - taking out a car loan. Perish the thought! They buy a modest home, live a modest lifestyle, completely ignore the Joneses and whatever they're doing, and are just... happy. These are the people I place high up on a pedestal and admire from below. I pace around them, trying to figure out what makes them so much better at this whole capitalist society thing than I am.

***

A few days ago, we noticed we haven't been able to make much of a dent in our debt situation in quite some time. The company Geekster works for has been bitch-slapped by this recession and that sting has been passed on to its employees in the form of hour reductions - two days every three weeks, to be exact. For a family of five on one income, that's not an easy pill to swallow. And for one who's been living at or slightly above its means while doing renovations to the fixer-upper home they bought two years ago, choking on the proverbial pill would be a more accurate description.

It's been a full year of reduced pay, and we've realized something critically important: Geekster pay doesn't really need to come back up (although that would be nice for many reasons), we need to reassess our lifestyle. We're piggish consumers in many ways, buying on emotion, on impulse. We're not horrible, but we don't always make great choices. Our latest not-so-great choice? The hot tub. How did we justify it? It was on sale, and still way less than any major vacation - which, by the way, we've never taken, not once, ever. It's easy to justify by saying it's like a vacation that keeps on giving, or some other crap. But the truth is that we couldn't afford it or a vacation. It was a dumb move.

See, we both left home at sixteen, and were faced with the harsh reality of sleeping in stairwells and shelters and half-way houses, lining up at the welfare office and the food bank, living with cockroaches and above some very scary drug dealers with an even scarier rottweiler. At nineteen, when Intrepid was born, a friend came to visit and said "He's very cute, but you realized you just fucked up your life." She went on to say we'd never get out of poverty and I would end up a single young mom with no education and nowhere to go. A really thoughtful thing to say to a new mom, wasn't it?

She has not received a single Christmas card from us, I'll have you know. And also, I think I'm way happier than she is. And more awesome. And somewhat prettier. Just sayin'.

It's been seventeen years since I left home, sixteen since I met the love of my life, and nearly thirteen since our first gremlin was born. Sometimes I think we're too hard on ourselves. Statistically, life should really suck right now. We shouldn't be together, let alone smitten with each other. Our son should be a delinquent who has a lot of trouble in school. I should probably have a litter of kids-- I suppose that part is somewhat true. Three is a small litter, right? And we should be quite poor and regretting the decision to keep our baby.

As per usual, I am pleased to be a statistic abnormality: Happy, married, good kids, food to eat, home owner, a vehicle to drive and good credit. Oh, and an adorable smart phone I can't really afford but have to keep for at least the next 2.5 years. You can see I'm pretty broken up about that.

Soon, I'll get discovered for my ravishing beauty or exceptional writing talents and we won't have to worry about juggling the bills anymore. Until then, I'll pat myself on the back on nights like tonight, when I walked out of a very tempting Tupperware party and didn't buy a single thing.

I'm ridiculously proud of myself.

Instant gratification. Wants masking as needs. We're as guilty and, dare I say, imperfect as the next person. Judge if you'd like, but I get to think about all my mistakes while sitting in my warm, bubbly, amazing, relaxing mistake of a hot tub. So there.

(I might let you into my hot tub if you tell me about your debt/lack of debt and give me some fantastic advice - and don't have any communicable diseases.)