Sometimes you just have to use your good china

I think that all responsible parents, no matter how much money they make, constantly worry about how much money they have. For me this comes from years of stretching every single penny to pay the bills. After putting myself through college and supporting myself and Hunter single-handedly after my divorce, having extra money in the bank has become an addiction of sorts.

I can remember so distinctly being poor in college. Now I'm not just using the word "poor" for dramatic effect; I was POOR. I was the kind of poor that caused me to take actual money to the grocery store and grapple with how to make $23.46 buy enough food to last me two entire weeks. I was the kind of poor that caused me great angst when it started approaching time to do laundry because using all those quarters to wash clothes REALLY hurt. And buying gas to drive the two hours home to see my family...well that was not always an option.

The worry I felt in those days didn't even come close to the gut-wrenching fear I felt when I left my ex-husband and knew that 100% of the responsibility to care for my infant son fell on me. I knew the second I walked out that door that I was the only parent who gave a damn about giving Hunter the best life possible. Talk about a sobering reality, especially when it hit me at only 23 years of age.

I tell these stories to explain a bit of the path that led me to today. Did I worry myself sick? Yes. Did I scream into my pillow at night after my baby had gone to sleep? Yes. Did I cry in the shower because I felt utterly alone and exhausted? Yes. But...I kept going. Every day I put one foot in front of the other and forged my path. The day I decided to have a child was the day I committed to giving all of myself to someone else, and that was something I took very seriously. Not only did I want my son to be happy, but I wanted him to have the best life possible. It wasn't easy working at home from the time Hunter went to bed until 3am and then getting up with him at 6:30 but I did it, and it got me to where I am today.

Feeling the pang of not having enough money to pay the bills is something that never leaves you. I think that is why I struggle to spend money on "non-essential" things. It feels frivolous....almost reckless, to be honest. I think I feel like I am protecting my children from the frustration I felt for so many years by doing this. It may sound silly to some people but it is my reality.

Recently I have made a commitment to try to enjoy a little "reckless" spending. Mark and I work hard, very hard, and provide our children with a good life. We live in a beautiful home, drive new cars, send our children to the schools of our choice, and pay the bills without stress. I have to constantly remind myself that it is OK to sometimes just spend money on something fun. I have to coach myself that this is not selfish or reckless but normal and important.

On Sunday when the opportunity to buy tickets to the Ray's game presented itself, I didn't hesitate. Is this $100 something I could put into the savings account? Sure. I do that all the time. But this time instead I decided, "to Hell with it." That $100could sit in my savings account and be long forgotten or it could give my husband and I a date night memory that will stay with us forever. I chose the memory.

It's kind of like fine china. I always think it is so odd when people have beautiful china that lives behind a glass pane protecting it from breaking. I always think it is such a waste. What is the point in having beautiful things if you are afraid to enjoy them? I guess it seems to me that breaking one plate is worth it if it gives you the opportunity to enjoy the things you love.

Sometimes you just have to buy tickets. Sometimes you just have to use your good china. Enjoying life, well, that's why we're here isn't it?

Thank you for my birthday

I know that I talk quite a bit about my children on this blog, but in all reality I am the quintessential wife and mom....my husband and kids are my life. Of course I have outside passions and interests that constitute things that belong to "just me", but those things pale in comparison in importance to the people I am eternally connected with.

Maia celebrated her 4th birthday this week. I look at her and feel in awe of how quickly she has turned into a little girl. Long gone are her days of babyhood. Those have been replaced by all things girly--glitter, pink, princesses, jewelry, make-up--as her cherished toys of infancy have disappeared into the bottom of her toy bin. While I have saved a few treasured things that remind me so much of her as a baby, most of these things have been given away to children in need. As much as my instincts try to force me to hoard the "things" that remind me of her so much, eventually logic takes over and allows me to let go of the "things" which don't matter nearly as much as the memories they are attached to.

On the day of her birthday, Maia and I had a grande celebration. She decided that she wanted four cakes because she was turning four. When I asked her if that meant I got 32 cakes on my birthday she simply laughed and replied, "That's ridiculous, Mom!" I took the day off from work and spent the day appreciating all things Maia; we baked and decorated four cakes with princess candles and sprinkles, played "dollies", watched a princess movie, and swam in the pool. We had our family over to celebrate with dinner and dessert. It was the perfect birthday. Without the fanfare of a large party (something we debated having), we could truly celebrate what was actually important: Maia.

After the madness died down when the sugar had passed through her system, I snuggled with her in her bed and held her so tight. I could still feel her little baby body pressed against mine during those 3am feedings. She is a girl who shares her emotions sparingly so when she does...she makes her point clearly. As I held my sweet girl and cherished HER she so sweetly turned to me, gave me a hug and kiss, and said, "Mommy. Thank you so much for my birthday."

I couldn't help but think, "Thank me for your birthday? No....thank YOU." At four years old she is still too little to be involved in and understand this sentiment so I kept it to myself. But as I laid in bed and tried to unwind I couldn't help but repeatedly thank God for Maia. The world and my life are truly brighter and better places with her in them.

So Maia, one day when you are old enough to read this, thank YOU for your birthday. You are one in a million and I cherish every moment that I am with you. You make every day a better day. I love you Maia-llama-ding-dong!