When I have to deal with finances, I immediately revert to being around seven years old. Brought up in a long line of "Your father will kill me if he sees this bill!", it was really hard to get a solid role-model of how to cope with this whole savings thing. Mom (God rest her soul) had a white cashmere sweater with a mink collar, which I remember well. Also a red velvet winter coat lined in white satin, a gold lame trench coat, and a mink stole which she had yearned for for years and then seldom wore (I mean...where would you?). Dad never wanted to be "bothered" buying a house, so I grew up in a cold water flat on the third floor of one of Boston's "three-deckers" until we graduated to an apartment with hardwood floors and (gasp!) radiators! Life was good. No one told me there was more.
I would periodically empty my savings when I was young and charming, and would blow it on a trip to England or France. I would pay the minimum on my charge cards until the balance started to scare me a little and then I'd pay more. For a while. Then rather later than you might expect, I married the world's most sensible man. He paid all of his bills every month. In full. And he expected me to do the same. So I did. He had savings. Not rich (I married him for his good looks, after all) but not starving either. Things were swell, as they used to say in the 1930's movies. Then we had kids. And then they went to college.
The college system in this country is only "out-obscened" by the medical system. The prices of both are completely ridiculous. So we cut back here, and we cut back there, and we sacrifice quite a bit for our offspring who are, it must be said, brilliant, with brilliant futures (I hope), but for the first time in over two decades of marriage, life is non-picnic-like. This is hard work, figuring out how much to give and how much to make them work for. We will get through, I'm sure, and they will go out and save the world, but it's a damn good thing the timing corresponds with my zen period. I was already trying to get down to a rice bowl, a saffron robe, and a prayer mat.
I would periodically empty my savings when I was young and charming, and would blow it on a trip to England or France. I would pay the minimum on my charge cards until the balance started to scare me a little and then I'd pay more. For a while. Then rather later than you might expect, I married the world's most sensible man. He paid all of his bills every month. In full. And he expected me to do the same. So I did. He had savings. Not rich (I married him for his good looks, after all) but not starving either. Things were swell, as they used to say in the 1930's movies. Then we had kids. And then they went to college.
The college system in this country is only "out-obscened" by the medical system. The prices of both are completely ridiculous. So we cut back here, and we cut back there, and we sacrifice quite a bit for our offspring who are, it must be said, brilliant, with brilliant futures (I hope), but for the first time in over two decades of marriage, life is non-picnic-like. This is hard work, figuring out how much to give and how much to make them work for. We will get through, I'm sure, and they will go out and save the world, but it's a damn good thing the timing corresponds with my zen period. I was already trying to get down to a rice bowl, a saffron robe, and a prayer mat.
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