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Oct 9, 2008

To Fix The Economy, We Need More Moms

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I’ve been watching the financial nosedive of the past few weeks with complete exasperation. Banks are failing one after another due to nothing more than greed and mismanagement, while those who were responsible walk away with multi-million dollar severance packages. I shook my head when Congress dismissed a $700 billion bailout package as being too expensive, then less than a week later passed another bailout package that was nearly identical except that it also included more money for pet projects and unrelated issues.

Now I see that AIG thanked the American public for their $80 billion bailout by sending some executives on a $440,000 spa retreat, paying for pedicures, massages, and all sorts of luxury. And Congress responded by giving them another $37.8 billion yesterday. Ya know, so they don’t run out of margaritas.

Ever wonder what happened to your country?

I think moms of America need to revolt and take over the country. Storm Washington and form a mom brute squad inside the Capital building, forcing lawmakers to listen to us. Just think of what we could accomplish.

When Republicans and Democrats are too involved in partisan bickering to get anything done, we moms can make them sit down together and play nice. We can keep our children from killing each other, so we can certainly make these guys respect each other. If someone tries to tack on a ridiculous pet project that has nothing to do with a bill designed to help the economy, we’ll send them to their office, and tell them to not come out until they can tell us what they’ve done wrong.

Moms can speak directly to the failed bank CEOs, chastizing them for thinking of themselves only and not others. We trusted them to behave with the money they’ve been given, and they betrayed our trust with greed, which requires punishment. Any mom will tell you that you can’t let a child get away with something once, or they’ll keep doing it again and again. We’d take away all of their bonuses, and we’d work out a plan with the banks, making sure any money we lend them is paid back to us in full, possibly with interest.

To investors, the mom squad would grab them by the shoulders and tell them to chill the hell out, reminding them that nothing good ever comes from acting rashly. We’d remind them that it’s OK to be scared, but it’s not OK for that fear to cloud everything they do and say. Moms would hand out cookies, tell them all to take a deep breath, and then make them sleep on it before deciding to sell off everything from fear.

When it comes to AIG, who has proven to be a truly unruly child and is clearly unable to make responsible choices with what it has been given, we moms would have to get tough. We would put them in time-out, freezing any financial hand-outs to them, demanding they work out a plan to pay back the money they blew on their executive spa retreat, and refusing to give them any further help until they prove they can make good choices.

And finally, moms would address the American public to tell them the unpopular truth our leaders won’t say: we’re all going to have to cut back, make some sacrifices, and live within our means. Many of us already are cutting back out of necessity, but others will need to do so to keep from ending up in poverty. Mom always said to not spend more than you earn, and this is the time to put that advice to use.

We moms don’t want to do this. We don’t like being mean mommies. We’d rather be spending time with our families instead of worrying about finances. But when our government and our financial system behave like unruly children, forcing our families to suffer from high food prices, foreclosures, heating costs that may be too much for many families to afford this winter, and a lack of credit for the responsible individuals and small businesses who desperately need it, we moms can only endure so much before we are fed up and feel the need to do something. Maybe it isn’t as extreme as storming the capital, but we can still choose to write our representatives in Washington, vote for who we think will make the best changes, and protect our families by guarding our finances.

Remember Congress, this really does hurt us more than it hurts you.

Filed Under: money, politics, rant ·


Oct 1, 2008

Old Navy’s Insane Exchange Policy

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Have I mentioned how hard it is to dress Cordy? The kid has a long torso, shorter legs, and isn’t lacking in hips or butt. (More proof that she wasn’t switched at birth.) As a result, very few clothes fit her well. Anything that fits her waist and hips is always too long, and if the length is right, chances are it’s skin tight around her middle.

But I still had high hopes that Old Navy would work out. After all, she can wear their shorts and t-shirts without any problem. She’s never been able to wear jeans, but it was time to try the jeans – she’s four years old, and she’s noticed that other kids wear jeans and she doesn’t. Just to be safe, I ordered a pair of boys jeans, which are always looser in fit than girls. I also ordered some knit pants.

My mom paid for the online sale as a birthday gift for Cordy. When the package arrived, it was a disaster. Everything was way too long – far too long to even hem. The size 6 pants fit well in the midsection, but you could fold the extra length back over her feet. The boy jeans were a little too relaxed – not only were they too long, you couldn’t even tell where her legs were in these clown pants. I had to return them.

When I went to Old Navy today, my primary worry was that the store wouldn’t have the same items in a size 5. But I found each item easily, and decided to try two pairs of jeans made for girls instead of boys. I walked up to the register and explained that I needed to exchange two pairs of pants, return one pair of jeans, and buy two pairs of jeans.

“Oh, we no longer do exchanges for online returns,” I was told, “We can only do a return and then you can buy them again.”

“But these were purchased as a gift. Can’t I just switch the sizes? Or get a merchandise credit?”

“No, they must be processed as a return and the money returned to the card it was paid with. If you have the same card, you can charge it back to the card again.”

“I don’t have the card – I told you these were a gift.”

“Well then you’ll have to use another form of payment.”

I was sure she wasn’t understanding me. “Let me get this straight: if someone buys my children a gift online and I need a different size, I have to return the items, and the money will go back to the gift-giver, and then I can then pay for the items with my own money. How does that make sense?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s the policy.”

“Well it’s a stupid policy then.”

I’m more than a little angry with Old Navy over this. Unless you read some fine print written on a different page on the website, you’d never know this was the policy. Instead they advertise their “Returns can be made online or in-store!” making you think it’s all so easy.

While I do like Old Navy’s clothing, this has discouraged me from ever buying from them online. Which means I’ll be buying less from them in general, since how often do I get the chance to go clothes shopping?

And I’ll never again suggest Old Navy if relatives want to buy clothing for the girls online. I don’t care how big the sale is – having to pay for the exchanged items myself and then ask my mom to send me a check when she gets the refund to her credit card is a hassle. Old Navy is unnecessarily complicating the returns process when I only wanted to exchange two size 6 pants for size 5 instead.

Sorry, Old Navy. You need to change your policies or you won’t be seeing me in your store again anytime soon.

Filed Under: money, rant · Tagged:


Sep 14, 2008

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

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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.

Filed Under: Cordy, money ·


Aug 6, 2008

Murphy’s Law & Unexpected Kindness

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As I mentioned recently, we lost our health insurance last Thursday, and we’re currently in the process of getting the kids onto state health insurance, just until Aaron can find a new job.

Thankfully, we have two healthy girls. Mira has seen the doctor once outside of normal well-child visits. Cordy has only been twice for a sick visit in nearly four years. So what are the chances that the girls would get sick in this small window of no insurance?

On Friday, Mira ran a high fever. I was sure we would have to take her to the doctor because she was so hot. However, I treated it with ibuprofen at home and after a few days it went away on its own. Whew – crisis averted.

But over a week ago Cordy started to develop some red spots around her mouth. Then they turned into weepy sores. I thought at first that maybe she had eaten something that caused an allergy, but they only got worse, not better, and then they started to spread to her chin.

I called the doctor last week (while we still had insurance), and they told me it was probably impetigo and to put some antibiotic ointment on it and it would be fine. They didn’t want to see her. I did as instructed, but on Sunday I could see it was still getting worse.

Of course. The child who never needs to see the doctor now needs to see one. Even worse: she’s the one who has epic meltdowns at the doctor’s office.

So I looked over our options, and the cheapest was to visit a little clinic inside our local grocery store. It was only $59, versus over $100 at the doctor or urgent care. We waited our turn, with Cordy being amazingly well-behaved considering we were going into a medical setting. After half an hour, Cordy’s name was called by a gentle looking older woman.

We walked into the office, and the woman – a nurse practitioner – could immediately see our problem. She pulled on some gloves and took a closer look at Cordy’s face while I explained the history of the sores and how I’ve treated them so far. She agreed it was impetigo.

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No.”

“What insurance do you have?”

At this point I explained that we had none at the moment, due to my husband losing his job. She nodded, glanced at her computer with the new patient form waiting to be filled in, then turned back to us.

“Well, I can write her a prescription to clear that up. And don’t worry about a charge for the visit.”

My jaw fell open. “Are…are you sure?” I asked. (And yes, later I thought to myself WHY DID YOU QUESTION HER? Take the free offer and run!)

“Oh yes, don’t worry about it. I’ve had to do so many sports physicals for kids today, with all the paperwork that goes with them, that this is a relief! Let me go check with the pharmacy and find the least expensive option for you to clear this up.”

As she left the room to consult with the pharmacist, I reflected on her generosity. She had no reason to do it. After all, this place was designed for those who don’t have insurance or need to see someone after regular office hours, and she gets paid for seeing patients. The visit fee isn’t cheap, but it’s far cheaper than other options.

I couldn’t even consider Cordy as the cause. While I never encourage it, Cordy’s inability to deal with certain situations has resulted in being ushered to the front of line or given quick service in the past, probably to get rid of us as rapidly as possible.

But this time Cordy was brilliant, and I was so proud of her. She stayed in her seat, with only minor quirky behavior and even let the nurse touch her – unheard of behavior for this child! Cordy actually focused on the nurse when she spoke to Cordy, too. I wondered if this nurse was secretly some kind of spectrum-child-whisperer, and could she please come home with us?

When she came back into the room, she told me that the first choice of treatment for impetigo was very expensive, but the second choice was an antibiotic that comes in a generic form for roughly $20. I agreed to that, and she wrote the prescription. We chatted for a few minutes about nursing school and she gave me tips for finding a job after graduation. I thanked her at least ten more times before we left. She asked Cordy for a hug, and again the stars aligned and the heavens parted to shine down on this nurse as Cordy gave her a big hug.

Times may be tough, but there are good people out there doing what they can to help. We all – no matter our situation – have the ability to help others in some way, even if it’s something as small as saying a kind word or giving a friend a hand with moving. (Or participating in Blog the Recession.) I hope I can pass on to others the benevolence given to me.

Our kindness to each other shows humanity at its best, and reminds me that just maybe the world isn’t the cold, selfish, impersonal place that I often worry it’s becoming.

Filed Under: Cordy, daily life, money, people who don't suck ·


Jul 11, 2008

Haiku Friday: Test Time

By ·
Big test tomorrow
If I pass, I stay in school –
No pressure at all.

I’d write more haiku, but I really have to study for this test. It’s the halfway point of nursing school, and if we don’t pass this comprehensive test, we’re out of the program. OK, it’s not quite that dramatic. We have one more chance to take it if we fail, and if we fail both times, we can reapply to continue the program after sitting out a year. Still, I don’t really want to think of that possibility. Once I’m done with school, I’ll have more options for working, which means we won’t have to panic (like we are now) if another layoff should hit us.

(Yes, we’re still unemployed. The job market is short on any jobs that require more than “must be able to lift 40 lbs.” and pay more than $9.50 an hour.)

So, I’m going to think positive thoughts, keep studying, fuel up with caffeine in the morning, and pass this test.

In other news, does anyone want to do a Haiku Theme Week again soon? If so, throw out some topic ideas you’d like to see!

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 or at Jennifer’s blog with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your generic blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, contact Jennifer or myself.

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! We will delete any links without haiku!

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Filed Under: Haiku Fridays, money, school, the J-O-B ·