Not Keeping Up with the Jones'

It seems as if the older one becomes, the more one's day becomes an endless game of catch-up.  As if each day we wake to an infinite to-do list.  Our precious seconds of consciousness are spent trying to accomplish ceaseless tasks.  Some days it feels as if respite will only be found in old age, or perhaps not until the afterlife.

And thus has been my mentality this past week.  Somehow, I managed to finish posting grades for all my classes.  I am virtually done with the Spring 2013 term, except for one small project I need to complete.  This has been a huge relief, as my coursework was as much as I've ever had.  Add the daily care of a burgeoning toddler and the responsibilities of moving and arranging a new house into the mix, and my dance card was all filled up.

Not only has my time been spent, but our money has, too.  Every day we buy stuff for the house.  The original mortgage we were getting required us to take a homeowner's education course, and I'll tell you what - they need to be telling potential new homeowners how much money they'll spend AFTER closing!  It's one thing after another. 

To give you an example, I'll list just some of the items we've recently purchased:

• Refrigerator = $900
• Paint for three rooms plus brushes, pans, rollers, tape = $300
• Clothes drying rack, clothes pins, and clothesline (in lieu of a dryer) = $25
• Baby gates for two stairways = $100
• Shelf liner (a serious pain in the ass, btw!) = $20
• Pot rack = $75
• HD antenna for TV (instead of paying for cable) = $30
• Rubber ducky shower curtain, rug, and toothbrush holder for Emmie's bathroom = $50
• Quilt for guest bed = $60 (Shams for pillows $20, but we're holding off on that.)

That's over $1500!  The money's going out as fast as it's coming in.  The difference between 'old' us and 'new' us is that 'new' us is paying for everything with cash (well, except for the fridge, but we got 0% interest on it and swear we will diligently pay it off in time).  Also, the majority of our purchases have been for practical reasons and not solely for aesthetic purposes.

... I just got off the phone with my best girlfriend, Lorelei, who bought a house this year, too.  She's also planning a wedding!  With that and her two jobs, she can completely relate to the craziness that is adult life.  We spent over an hour comparing notes on hectic schedules and housework.  She and her fiance are fixing up their place way more hardcore than Bruce and I are.  We're talking fixtures and furniture and flooring, oh my!  I said, "Luckily, I don't even notice some of that stuff."

"Oh, you will," she forewarned.  We've heard this from other homeowner friends as well.  It starts off innocently enough.  Someone makes a comment on the color of your lightswitches.  Or you look up and suddenly notice how god-awful your ceiling fan is.  You find yourself admiring someone else's custom window treatments.  The next thing you know, the hardware store has taken more of your hard-earned cash.  It just keeps building from there; the projects don't stop!

This is indicative of a greater problem faced by our culture alone.  In one of the classes I just finished teaching, I introduced to my students the concept of affluenza.  The term was popularized by a PBS documentary back in the 1990's.  The word is a portmanteau of affluence and influenza.  In other words, it is a sickness derived from having too much.  Think about it: we always want more.  We want bigger, faster, nicer.  Houses, clothes, cars, things.  We are never fully satisfied with what we have.

This leads to another issue in our society: the overabundance of stuff.  We always want more, but we have a hard time getting rid of anything.  I am the worst at this.  I place sentimental value on absolutely everything, and I never want to let it go.  For instance, my parents gave me an old set of pots and pans when I got my first apartment.  When Bruce and I got married, we registered for a nicer set.  We kept the old ones and moved them from our apartment in the city, to our townhouse in the suburbs, to Bruce's parents' house, to here.  Why?  Just in case.  My parents gave them to me, so I didn't want to throw them away.  Finally, I said, "Enough is enough."  We donated them the other day.  We have more space now and maybe someone who needs pots and pans will get them.

I'm trying to be better about the concept of need.  When we bought the fridge I thought, "Do we need the biggest, most expensive one?"  No.  As much as I'd love to get a new oven (I swear the one that came with the house was the first model they invented after woodburning stoves), we don't need a new one.  We can make do with what we have.  This mindset is multifariously beneficial: not buying what isn't necessary also prevents us from adding to the debt-ridden situation that moved us into my in-laws' house in the first place.

So screw the Jones'.  I don't care what they have.  Okay, as much as I would like to have everything updated, modern, or new, I can't afford to, nor do I need it.  I'm perfectly content with my outdated cabinet handles - for now, anyways.  On Monday and Tuesday Bruce took a couple (paid) days off and the three of us ran to various stores and worked on the house.  Yeah, we spent money, but we got stuff accomplished.  The best part, however, was being together as a family.  It is so much fun to create a space of your own, but it's important to remember that just having it is priceless.