It was one of those mornings. Brandon was screaming for a half an hour, because he couldn’t find his backpack.  No one could find the backpack, and I was asking him to move on, “Make your lunch.” He’s in first grade, his backpack is empty.  We have other bags. Seriously.  But it was super important to him.  Important enough that he screamed for a half an hour, kicked everything he could find and went to school with an apple for lunch, because I handed it to him on the way out the door.  And he still didn’t have his backpack.

He’s cute when he’s not screaming.

I could have made his lunch, but the rule in our house is “Nothing good comes when you’re screaming.”  We don’t negotiate with terrorists, ever. That was hard.  Right now his class is eating a decent lunch and he’s hopefully munching an apple. I’m praying for him and hoping his teacher doesn’t bail him out.  I want him to see that actions have consequences and if he can learn it now, the rest of his life will be better.

Right now, my brother-in-law (45) is in ICU after suffering a massive stroke.  He has 2 sons and a loving wife and has been active and fit his whole life.  In a few hours they have scheduled a surgery to remove part of his skull to relieve pressure on his brain. When I think about that situation the other decisions I’m dealing with don’t seem relevant, but they are.  (Just throwing that out there in case you might say a prayer for Greg and his family Gayla, Jordan and Brayden.)

I went to IKEA yesterday.  Our local store has been open for 12 days and I was hoping I waited long enough for the crazy crowds to be over.  It wasn’t too bad.  The show room was mesmerizing.  We only set aside an hour to shop (definitely not enough) so went home empty handed.  This sounds random, but it relates, bear with me.

I had a garage sale last week and sold the rest of my baby stuff and everything else I could put my hands on.  I cleared over $600 and still have a generous pile to donate to Disabled Veterans and clothes to pass on to friends. My plan for the garage sale money was to buy a rug and an Ektorp love seat and chair (now on sale) for the attic sitting room in Dub’s new bedroom.  Right now the room has a cedar chest in it–that’s it.  I threw some pillows on top to make it more of an inviting seat, but it’s not awesome.

With Brandon’s outburst this morning, I’m thinking the money might be better spent building an organizational system for backpacks and such.  Like this: ⇓  And a working garage door opener.

Decisions. Decisions.  Darren said, if I could scrape together a bit out of our budget, he would start building our bathroom.  That is very tempting too.  (How soon I forget the pain of no kitchen for 9 months and no flooring for 12….and am ready to start a NEW project.)

AND–if you follow me on Facebook, you already know I found a doctor to treat my strange illness.  She confirmed it to be adrenal fatigue, plus food allergies, plus thyroid stuff.  We are waiting on test results to pinpoint how bad it is and exactly what to do to make it better.

For now, I’m on an allergy free diet.  Which is mostly protein free, since most allergies are to food proteins.  It’s a 180 turn from the way I’ve been eating for years, the way I’ve felt the best.  I have toxins coming out through my skin, my tonuge and other places it isn’t polite to talk about.  She said I would feel even worse for awhile, and she was right about that.  After 4 weeks of this, they will reintroduce one protein at a time and see what happens.  I’m hoping eggs end up on the ok list.  But I digress.

The bottom line. I can spend my garage sale money lots of ways: garage organizer and opener, beautiful sitting area for the kids in the attic (and it’s on sale!), one project in the master bathroom, or beef up the emergency fund for the medical bills that are likely to come in.

What would you do?

During a long illness last winter, I watched every episode of “Say Yes to the Dress.”  It was shocking.  I couldn’t look away.  These brides willingly dropped half an annual salary on a dress they would wear once, for a marriage that was likely to end in divorce within the next 5 years.

Many girls would turn down beautiful dress after beautiful dress only to see a dress across the store that they had to try on.  Their consultant would discourage them.  “Don’t do it; It’s not in your price range…”  The determined bride would try it on anyway, and then nothing else would do.  Any sacrifice necessary to have that dress was made, or the bride went home disappointed, unable to settle for less once she tasted real luxury.

It’s easy for me to look at this situation and see the utter ridiculousness of it all.  In my sub-culture weddings were about the marriage.  The months of planning before the ceremony centered on pre-marriage counseling and preparation for a commitment that would last a lifetime. We had cake and punch receptions; a modest dress, often handmade bridesmaid’s dresses and pew bows crafted in the maid of honor’s basement.  A friend of the family sang a song or maybe played an instrument.  It was simple, affordable.  No one was trying to prove anything.

“Say Yes to the Dress,” kind of ridiculousness can bleed into many areas of life:  Our cars; clothing; home decor; schools.  At the end of the day, being content with what we can afford to have is what brings happiness.  And here’s how we get it:

1. Being grateful.  Recognizing our immense blessings.
2.Not comparing. What someone else has doesn’t minimize what we have.
3.Putting value on eternal things: Our faith; our family; our friends
4.Knowing where our value comes from:  We are valuable because we are created in the image of God.  He valued us enough to sacrifice His Son’s life for ours.  Careers, the car we drive, cool clothes, a fancy house… nothing can change our inherent worth.

I’ll be honest, I’ve caught myself getting sucked into the trap.  We are remodeling a house that was barely inhabitable, and I find myself wanting to use this ONE shot to make it as stylish and trendy and beautiful as possible.  When, really, it’s all fleeting.  Styles change; stuff gets “broken in.” Things get dirty.  Wanting to do a good job with the remodel isn’t wrong, but what is wrong is getting so caught up in the decisions and slowness of it all that I let it steal my peace.   In the midst of it all, I’m learning a deeper lesson in contentment.

How about you?  How have you been learning contentment? Has it helped you stick to the budget?

P.S.  There’s still 2 days left to enter the Plexus giveaway.

My parents have 8 grandchildren. Two years ago, they started an annual tradition to build personal relationships with each of the kids in small groups. Every year, they take 2 of the kids on a road trip to see some national treasure like the Grand Canyon, Yosemite or Pike’s Peak.

For the year leading up to the trip they have those 2 kids over for trip planning meetings to involve them in the process. Every meeting builds anticipation and excitement. Also during that year, my parents host several work days. Heidi and Caleb painted the fence (a LOT of fence.) The next year, Heather and Dub did yard work. Because of the rough, long lasting winter, they didn’t get quite as many work days in. My parents paid them in cash in an envelope for their trip.  It worked so well, that my folks recommended we do the same thing for our kids on our drive to Florida.

We had envelopes for each of them with 20 crisp new one dollar bills. I forgot to pass them out at first so when we stopped for gas I gathered them around in the filling station for a chat. “I have an envelope for each of you,” I said. Their eyes got wide as they saw me take out the bills from one envelope and spread them. “Everyone has the same amount to last for the entire trip. You can spend them any way you want, but when it’s gone, it’s gone. We will provide the food for your meals, your clothing, and pay to get you into Lion Country Safari, but if you want snacks or souvenirs, it comes out of this envelope. Whatever you don’t spend is yours to keep when we get home.”

Brandon, who is 6, took his envelope from me with a knowing look. He elbowed his brother, Dub, and said, “It’s a money test. They want to see if we are going to be wasters.” I heard a snicker and looked up at the cashier who quickly turned away and pretended to be uninterested.

A few of the children chose a frozen drink and timidly handed their money to the cashier. He paid the sales tax for them from his own pocket so they wouldn’t have to break a second precious dollar.

It was interesting to watch the different personalities of the kids. My oldest, Heidi, saved her money and when it came time to buy a souvenir she left the store empty handed. On the way back to the car she mentioned there was a shirt that was really cute that she loved. “Why didn’t you buy it?” I asked. She shrugged. I dragged her back to the store so she could show me the shirt. It was on the clearance rack for $7 and was adorable! It was a flattering feminine cut in her favorite color and had the name of the park down the side in a tasteful but not typical fashion. “You are a super shopper, girl. Buy the shirt.” There’s a personality type that can feel guilty spending ANY money at all, even when it’s a time they should spend. Part of parenting our kids to be smart with money, is to help them find that balance.

My second oldest was always thinking of others. He would look for packages of things that he could share with the group and rarely bought something just for himself.

All of my kids saved most of their money for their trip out and bought tasteful souvenirs at the park. But on the way home some of them went crazy with spending. It was like they thought the money would self destruct if there was any left when they got home. We had several whispering gas station conversations that sounded like this, “That $2 piece of candy is only $1 at Dollar Tree at home. Are you sure you want to spend your money that way?” Usually those kids made good choices, but when we got home, they begged for a trip to Dollar Tree to spend the rest of their money. My older ones set theirs aside for future possibilities. When the younger ones think of something they’d really like to buy in the future, they’ll get a lesson in opportunity cost (now that their money is gone) and the value of hard work.   Those lessons are harder to learn from a lecture.