Haiku Friday: Signs Of Age

What do I see here?
A flash of white on my head
Surrounded by brown

But wait -now I see
another one! White hairs are
sprouting everywhere.

When did I become
old enough to have more white
hairs than I can pluck?

Or maybe it’s not
the years, but the wear – I can
blame my children, right?

Maybe it’s not fair to completely blame my kids for the white hairs scattered around my temples. So I’ll only give them partial blame, but then add a little blame for my wrinkles on them, too. Better than admitting I’m getting old, right?

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!



Attack of the Giant Bug

I’ve always considered myself a bit of a tomboy. But one area I’ve never been boyish about is bugs. Bugs creep me out, with spiders ranking even higher on the “make me shriek and run” scale.

As long as the bugs stay outside, with no chance of getting into my house to put their little poisoned buggy feet on my food or carry out their sinister plan of walking across my face while I sleep (because their evil little buggy brains know that I can’t prove it but also can’t disprove it and so will obsess in an unhealthy way until my head explodes), then we’re fine and our truce continues. Any bug I find in my house is at risk of dying by the shoe, if I can’t find some way to get it outside without having to touch it or get too close.

And then this knocked (well, buzzed really) on my front door:

Click on the picture to enlarge it if you dare.

For those not well-versed in bug species, that is the biggest freakin’ praying mantis I’ve ever seen in my life. It was easily half a foot long, staring at me with it’s beady eyes, daring me to try to come outside. When I moved, I could see it’s freakish head turning to watch me, plotting what it could do were I to get too close.

I didn’t go outside for the remainder of the evening.

This round goes to you, bug.



Meet A Statistic

Back in April, I wrote an open letter to the presidential candidates, laying out the issues that were important to me and why. I reminded them of how the middle class seems to be slipping away, and how I worried that my family could face ever harder times if things continued as they were. I wrote:

Despite all of that, I have it pretty good compared to many in this country. We still have food, we still have some luxuries, and we still have our house. As long as my husband isn’t laid off – a real risk we’ve faced three times in the past year – our bills are still paid each month and the needs of our family are met. But there are so many who can’t even provide the most basic needs for their families. Food banks are running out of food because of the growing number of people – even middle-class – who must now turn to them for help. Should my husband be laid off, I could be one of those people, too, depending on charity and the kindness of others to feed our family.

Oh, hi – look at us now. I should go into business as a psychic.

It’s been three months now since Aaron lost his job. In that time, unemployment rates have continued to climb, as have consumer prices on nearly everything. Things in Ohio aren’t so hot, either. The governor just announced another 4.5% must be slashed from the state budget in all departments by the end of this month. You can bet many departments will take care of that with more layoffs, further increasing the competition for jobs.

We never expected to still be without full time employment in September, but here we are. We still have our house, we still have food, and we still have one or two luxuries (like internet, which we actually need for freelance work), but not much else. It feels like we’re stuck in some twisted nightmare. We’re college educated, and we have a lot of work experience – why can’t we find a job?

More resumes have been sent out than we can count, and his suit has been cleaned and pressed for a handful of interviews. The job market is so tight at the moment that employers can be very picky. Often he isn’t considered because even though he has years of experience in his field, his degree in Theatre doesn’t match up with layout and graphic design. Or they question why he’s applying for a job that makes less than he did previously. He’s even tried for a job that only requires lifting things (UPS), but in that case he’s dismissed as overqualified. After all, why would someone who was making so much before this want a dull job making just over minimum wage?

I don’t want this to sound all “poor us”. We will eventually find something. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, resumes keep flying out the door and we’re both working hard on our freelance jobs. But this lack of a full-time job has put us in a rough spot at the moment, and forced us to look at options we would have never considered before.

After three months, our savings are nearly gone, despite being conservative in our spending. The mortgage is due in October, and I’m still not entirely sure how we’re going to cover it. I think we’ll be able to scrape it together, but November will be coming all too quickly. We’ve already had to weigh the costs of taking our child to the doctor versus waiting it out – we did go and it cleared up, but it’s possible we waited too long and Cordy may have a scar on her face from it.

So last month we swallowed our pride and applied for assistance. Cordy and Mira now have health insurance, thanks to SCHIP. (You know, that children’s health insurance program that Congress tried to expand and Bush vetoed.) And after having battle after battle with myself, we now are on food assistance as well.

How do I feel about it? I hate depending on assistance, mostly because I feel there are others who need it more. We’re doing it to buy us more time and protect our daughters’ health. I’ll admit that the food assistance saves us a lot of money, even if I am angry that it had to come to this. And considering that we’re currently making about $1200 a month from our freelance income and unemployment combined, and our mortgage alone is $1100, saving some money on food helps.

I’m reminded by family and friends that it’s OK to ask for help now and then. After all, three generations of my family have paid into the government’s assistance programs without ever needing it, so using a little of that help now shouldn’t bring on waves of guilt. But I still feel so…judged…when I’m buying groceries and the cashier looks at me when I swipe my card and says loudly, “Oh, you’re using food stamps.” It’s an uncomfortable feeling to look at government assistance from the inside, knowing the prejudices you may have held when you were on the outside.

There was a time when I might have judged someone if I saw them buying groceries with food stamps, but now I know that nearly anyone could find themselves in those circumstances if the planets aligned the wrong way. And I’ve heard healthcare workers speaking poorly of a patient at the hospital because they’re on Medicaid, something I could never do. Yes, there are people who abuse the system, but who are we to determine if someone really needs the help or not just by looking at them?

It’s hard to admit, but we are now a statistic. A middle class family now with no full-time employment, on assistance, with the risk that we could lose our house if something doesn’t change in the next few months. Our story is one which so many others in this country could tell – we’re not unique in any way. It’s why this election has become so important to me, why I’m nearly ready to go door to door to campaign for people to vote, and why I feel we all need to look beyond the hype and the superfical issues of this year’s campaign and investigate the issues fully.

Because you never know when you could be the next statistic.



Coins Aren’t For Buying Stuff, They’re For Stuffing Pigs (duh)

It seems some kids grasp the value of money very early. My mom tells the tale of me trying to trade a construction worker a dime in exchange for a quarter when I was only six years old. Apparently I understood the value but assumed that other people wouldn’t realize these pieces of metal were worth something. Oh, I thought I was soooo smart.

Other parents of preschoolers are already dealing with the “I want!” cries and the “Buy it for me!” wails. I’m lucky that, so far, my nearly-four year old has yet to be caught up in the tangle of consumerism. She loves TV characters, but rarely asks for any toys at all. I asked her today – if she could have anything at all for her birthday, what did she want the most? She answered a cake and balloons. I prodded her to think of something else, since those were part of the party anyway, and she finally answered, “A ball.” Nothing big, just a ball – perhaps a soccer ball.

Just because she’s my little anti-capitalist doesn’t mean that I should wait to teach her about money, though. I don’t want her to think that money grows on trees, or in our case, comes from little plastic cards.

Of course, it’s hard to teach a four year old about money. For now, our financial lessons are limited to the “money is how we buy stuff” quality. (We’ll save economic principles and the factors affecting inflation for next year.) I’ve explained that anytime we bring something new into the house, it’s because we used money to pay for it, and that we have a limited amount of money, so we have to choose what we buy carefully.

I wish I could say that it’s sinking in. She is the best coin hunter in the house, turning over couch cushions to find stray change and snatching pennies off the sidewalk. When her grandmother gives her a few coins, Cordy holds them as if they are made out of gold. So you’d think she has the concept of money figured out.

But the little bit of money she possesses will likely not see a storefront for a long time to come. Because all of her money goes into her ceramic piggy bank. This little piggy (a gift from Aunt Dot, of course) has been around since she was a baby, and once she learned that coins could go in the top to “feed the piggy” she began putting every coin she could find into it. Her ceramic porker apparently has quite an appetite, because she wants to feed it every day.

Cordy’s well-fed piggy on the left, Mira’s half-starved pig on the right

I once tried to open her piggy bank in front of her, thinking she would be proud to see all the money she’s saved. Instead, she gasped in horror, urging me to put all the coins back in as fast as possible: “Mommy, we have to feed the piggy! Hurry! He needs coins!” She’s actually filled her piggy bank up once already – I partially emptied it when she was asleep one night, adding the money to her savings account, but left some coins in it so she didn’t think that someone was trying to starve her pig.

So far, I’d call this a success in financial education. She saves more money than I do, and if she keeps this obsession going, she’ll be paying her own way through college. If she ever opens the pig, that is.

I think we’re going to need a bigger pig.

This post is part of what could possibly be one of the coolest Parent Bloggers Network blog blasts ever, sponsored by Capital One. Check out their Moneywi$e eLearning tool for tips on budgeting, saving money, and talking to your kids about money.

The prizes? Try one of three iPhones! Because Cordy will never share her money with me, I’ll need to win an iPhone if I ever hope to get one.



Haiku Friday: It’s Been One Year!

It’s been one year now
since Haiku Friday began
and we’re still going!

I’m so glad that we
could come together for this
fun writing challenge

Thank you to all who
have written haiku and I
hope you’ll continue!

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!