This last year has been one of the most difficult for so many reasons. First and foremost has been dealing with Pixie's (my one year old) health. I don't think anyone is prepared to have their child be born with health issues. I learned this last year that there is no scale to determine your right to feel upset about your child's health issues. While those of us who aren't on a daily cycle of wondering how long their child will live or if they will ever be a productive part of society have ample motivation to thank God every day, we still hurt for what our child and our family has to go through every day. I think our pain is just that, our pain, and watching your child suffer for any reason should be the binding on the circle that all parents enter into when we first look into the eyes of a child that is one hundred percent dependent on us for their every happiness and need.
Now that I have you all thinking of the first time you saw your child (or hopefully some other tear-jerking moment) I'll get to my point. Our house is dealing with another health issue. Financial health. Right now, it feels terminal. We have been sitting by it's bedside while listing to the beep of life support machines. The nurses check in periodically to see how it's doing, and the distant family members are arguing over who gets it's car. It feels that bad.
How did you let it get that way, you ask. Well, once upon a time we decided to get a Land Rover Discovery. I would say that was the beginning of the end. Little did we know, this Land Rover needed a new engine and a plethora of other comparably minor, yet expensive, things. We had some contingencies that meant low-interest borrowing, but the unnamed national chain automotive mechanics (also known as Satan's minions) didn't reattach the ground when they put the new engine in. This led to an escalating series of issues with my Land Rover that derailed vacations mid-trip, caused long-term car rentals, and eventually the purchase of a new vehicle that was warrantied up the wazoo for our protection. Long story short, the mechanics had to pay for "all" of the repairs. Unfortunately, the damage was already done and we began sinking ourselves financially before it was all said and done. There's a lot more to the story, but if I had to put my finger on a beginning, that's it.
We are one year out from moving onto our next duty station and we don't have two pennies to rub together. That's a horrible situation to be in. That is how you end up living in the ghetto because you can't afford nicer accommodations. I don't like the ghetto. I plan to move on from here with ample financial flexibility to live wherever the heck I want-as long as the Army says I can. That's a whole other story-I seem to have a lot of those.
After many threats, both direct and cleverly disguised as banter, with my husband we finally started Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University. They make a military addition that the Army gave us a couple of years back. We are all over that like white on rye. I am determine to dig ourselves out of this hole. I'm under no delusions that this will be painless, but I expect it to be effective. I winced when I saw the dreaded envelopes. If you've heard of Dave Ramsey you know about the envelopes. You've probably made fun of the envelopes. It's hard not to feel like a child when you are walking around with your allowance in a tiny white piece of paper. I'm going to put my big girl panties on, hold on tight to my envelope, and grit through this. Wish me luck!
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