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Outsourcing chores

by Jana 18 Comments

A few years ago, at the recommendation of a co-worker, I read Tim Ferriss’s “The 4 Hour Work Week”. To be honest, I hated the book. I thought that he came off as pompous, rude, snobby and kind of douchey. Most of what he discussed could in no way, shape or form be applied to my life and my situation. Except for one idea. Outsourcing.

Quite frankly, I love the idea of outsourcing the unpleasant aspects of my life. I would love to be rid of the chores that I can’t stand so that I can focus on the things that I do love and want to cultivate. And, if I think about it, I already do outsource some things—haircuts, dog grooming, trash and recycling pick up, and car maintenance. I don’t mind paying for these services because they are convenient, make my life easier and honestly, no one wants me cutting his or her hair. Or working on a car.

The problem is that I want to outsource household chores. I’m not the most domestically inclined woman around. While I do enjoy some things like cooking and baking and child care and general errands, there are certain things I cannot stand. Those are the ones I would like to eliminate. But the cost for outsourcing those chores is way too expensive for my budget. Or is it? I decided to do a little research and come up with an amount that I would have to pay each month to outsource the 3 things I hate the most:

Laundry

Dane Cook once joked that the only way to completely have no laundry is to wash your clothes naked. Sadly, he’s right. Laundry is a cruel joke, especially when you have a child and dogs. I am forever stuck in a cycle of wash, dry, fold, put away. Repeat the next day. I think I spend a minimum of 10 hours a week doing laundry for my family (fortunately, my husband does his own laundry. This is a huge blessing). While I’m able to complete other tasks while the washer and dryer are running, it’s still annoying to be in the middle of a task only to have to stop to attend to the laundry. Not to mention that I hate the whole laundry process. So I wondered what it would cost to have someone do my laundry for me.

I looked around and there are services that will wash and fold my clothes. Here’s the info on the                   cheapest company I found:  $1.25 a pound with a minimum of 10.  That’s just for your standard wash, dry, fold that is supposedly done according to my explicit directions. They claim to have no extra fees, including delivery. Let’s assume I have 25 pounds of laundry per week. That’s a minimum cost of $125 per month. However, they don’t say how long it would take to complete the service, and I have to schlep my clothes to the place and pick them up.

The verdict? Not worth it. I’m not really saving any time by having to drive back and forth to the place, it’s expensive compared to doing it myself and I’m basically a slave to their time frame.

Cleaning

I’ll admit it. I’m a terrible housekeeper. My house would never be deemed uninhabitable as I insist that beds are made, bathrooms are tidy and there are no dirty dishes all over the house. However, I’m lazy with dusting and vacuuming, my kitchen floors don’t gleam, toys are usually all over my living room and laundry is usually everywhere (see above about how I hate laundry). My husband and I do the best we can but my house never looks quite clean enough. I would love to have one of those houses that sparkle. But with me in charge, it’s not going to happen.

Enter a cleaning service. These are pros whose job it is to make my house sparkle in that commercial, TV show way. I did use a cleaning service last year, just prior to Thanksgiving, in order to get my house respectable enough to have company. That service cost $220 for 2 hours but I figured it was expensive due to the fact that it was an initial, deep cleaning. If I remember correctly, it was approximately $100 per week for regular home maintenance, based on the size of my house and what would need to be done.  Let’s say I have the service come 2 times per month. That’s roughly $200 and I would have to stay home (I have extreme paranoia issues and can’t stand when people I don’t know are left unattended in my home).

The verdict? It’s a possibility. I loathe cleaning and I’m not good at. Additionally, a cleaning service would free up time for me to work on my blog or other projects.

Food shopping

There is nothing that makes me more anxious than the thought of a supermarket on a Saturday or Sunday morning. The small aisles, the shopping cart collisions, the wrath at the deli counter, the agony at the register. It all makes me grimace with displeasure. Unfortunately, this is the one chore per week that I cannot put off (have I mentioned that I purposefully have 3 weeks of clothes and underwear so that I can go that long without doing laundry?). I’d send my husband but he loves supermarkets like I love MAC and I fear for our budget. So each week, armed with my budget, my list and my body armor, I trudge to the supermarket for what is the worst hour and half of my week. And every week that I’m there, I wish there was a way to avoid this horror.

I have learned that there is! Apparently, my grocery store has a service where I can order my food online and then a refrigerated truck will deliver the groceries right to my front door! This is fantastic! After the first delivery, which is free, there is a delivery charge which is based on the amount of food ordered (<$150 has one set of fees, >$150 has another) and the time frame in which the food is delivered. However, like the cable companies, your food has a delivery window and the delivery charge is based on the window you pick. Let’s say I pick the 4 hour delivery window. That would run me $3.95, for a total of $103.95 each week.

The verdict? I’d give it a try for free. Although I am freaked out by the thought of someone else handling my groceries, it might be worth it to avoid having the headache of food shopping. Besides, while I’m waiting, I can always do laundry or clean!

Do you outsource any household chores? What value do you get from it (besides time)?

 

Birthday party etiquette (or lack thereof)

by Jana 14 Comments

This past weekend was my daughter’s birthday party. We invited her friends from school and that was it. No family, no neighborhood friends, no kids of friends. She spends most of her time with her school friends anyway so it made sense. It wound up being fairly small (10 kids), which was fine with me. I think kids have more fun at smaller parties anyway.

Normally, her birthday parties are a time of stress but a good stress. The money isn’t an issue since I don’t care about spending money on my child’s birthday (since it is probably the most important day of the year). I don’t care about the work, effort, planning or anything like that. I will do anything for my daughter. But this year? The stress got to me. Because I’m tired of poor birthday party etiquette. It’s as if people completely forget their manners when it comes to children’s birthday parties. Maybe I was raised differently or maybe I expect too much. That’s entirely possible.

Here are a few of the situations that happened this year that pushed me to the brink:

  • The party supplies I ordered from Amazon.com never arrived. 10 days before her party, I ordered the supplies–cups, plates, napkins, tablecloths, goody bags, cupcake decorations, Happy Birthday banner and something else I can’t remember right now. I ordered them from Amazon because she wanted a Care Bears party and apparently the Care Bears have been banned from my state as I could not find Care Bears anything anywhere. I even paid for the quicker shipping. Fine. No problem. What was the problem was that the important stuff–plates, cups, etc–never arrived. In fact, they still haven’t arrived. And now I have to go out of my way to FedEx when the supplies eventually do arrive and send everything back. And probably pay to do so. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that the only place that had Care Bears anything was in Exton, PA. An hour away from my house! So what do you think I did last Saturday night? If you guessed drove to Exton, you win a prize.
  • Half the invitees never even bothered with an RSVP. I get it. We’re all busy. Especially at this time of year. But I put the damn invitation in your child’s mailbox at school (well, the teacher did) so I know you got it. The fact that you can’t even bother with a quick text or email or telling me to my face when you see me at pick up or drop off makes me think one of two things: 1) you are rude or 2) you are irresponsible and forgetful. I’m not sure which of those is the least desirable quality because quite frankly, they’re all pretty bad. I know that my child’s birthday party is not high on your priority list but at least have the common, decent social courtesy of saying yes or no. You can even tell me to fuck off if you want. Just give me an answer to the party.
  • Parents who sat in a corner with a scowl on their face as if attending a birthday party is akin to torture. Not all parents are outgoing, friendly people. That’s fine. I’m pretty shy myself. I’m not comfortable around people I don’t know and have never seen before (unless alcohol is involved. Then I’m everyone’s BFF), and I am terrible at small talk. However, when I bring my child to a birthday party for a child she has been in school with for almost 5 years, I at least make the attempt to have a brief conversation with the party host. At the very least, I say hello, good-bye, and thank you for having us. I can’t tell you how many parents sat with sullen, miserable looks on their faces and refused to speak to anyone. There was one in particular, let’s call him Captain Shorts, who I’m half convinced wanted to punch me in the face. If bringing your kid to a party is that bad, just say no. It works for drugs. It can work for parties, too.
  • Bringing a sibling who is not friends with my child. I am all for inviting siblings to parties. As long as both siblings are friends with the birthday child. However, when I invite one child, that is not an automatic invitation to bring your older child to the party as well. It doesn’t matter that you offered to pay or that there was plenty of room. It’s the principle of the whole thing. That child was not invited. You had plenty of time to make other arrangements. If you have no family around, hire a babysitter. If you can’t afford a babysitter, try to set up a play date for your older child during the 2 hours of the birthday party. And if that doesn’t work, just bring the kid with an activity that she can do quietly in a chair during the party. Also, expecting me to feed that child is an unreasonable request. I’ll do it because it’s the right thing to do, but it’s rude of you to expect that.
  • Not showing up. This has happened every year that my daughter has had a friend party. Someone will RSVP that her child will be in attendance but then, without warning, they don’t show up (let’s not get into the lack of apology the next time I see them). This irritates me to no end. It is rude, inconsiderate, and poor manners. When you make a commitment to attend a party, you show up. End of story. This year, the child who didn’t show up was supposedly “sick”. And, to her credit, the mom did try to let me know. By sending me a message on Facebook. Really?! Facebook? You have my phone number. You have my email address. Why on Earth would you use Facebook instead? And let’s not even get into the people who showed up over an hour late with absolutely no text or phone call…

Other than those few elements, the party went really well. All the kids had a blast and my daughter got her Care Bears party. Not to shabby for a 5th birthday.

At least I have about 360 to plan the next one. Maybe I should place the order with Amazon today.

My job is depressing. And I want to leave.

by Jana 21 Comments

I’ve talked before about how self-employment scares the crap out of me. That still doesn’t change the fact that I have a burning desire to leave my job and pursue freelancing full-time. Why? My job is depressing.

I don’t mean my job is depressing in the normal “I hate working in an office on somebody else’s schedule and my boss is a douche and my co-workers are lame” Office Space-type depressing. I mean my job is literally depressing. I don’t know how much I’ve disclosed here, maybe some drips and drabs, but I’m going to describe it for you so you can fully understand the depths of how depressing my job is and why I feel compelled to leave.

I as a case reviewer in my state’s Kids’ Department. What this means is that typically when a case blows up for a bad reason, I get the job of looking at all the records and determining if policy was followed, if there were any systems issues…stuff like that. These are typically some of the worst cases imaginable and they hurt my head and my heart. What some people do to kids is just disgusting (I’m not talking people like Jerry Sandusky who do it to strangers. I’m talking about what parents do to their own kids). The crowning jewel of all of this is sitting on my state’s Child Death Review Panel.

Yup, twice a month I get to attend a meeting where we talk about kids dying. Actual cases, too. And all sorts of reasons for the deaths–car accidents, illnesses, SIDS, suicides, homicides, drownings, fires…all of it except deaths or near deaths by abuse or neglect. That’s reviewed in a separate panel that I don’t sit on (which is a really, really good thing). I also get the pleasure of being the liaison for the Fetal and Infant Mortality Review panel. Uplifting stuff, right?

When I took the job almost a year ago, I knew that I was going to have to do this. I didn’t care because it meant getting away from a very toxic work environment and into a much healthier one. I had previously worked for my supervisor in a different capacity and she is wonderful. I can’t say enough good things about her and my other supervisor (I have two, for two different functions of my job). But what I failed to realize was the emotional toll that a job like this would have on me. It’s one thing to supervise juvenile criminals (have I mentioned that I was a probation officer?) or investigate physicians for Medicaid fraud; it’s another to review how babies and children die. As a parent and general human being, it’s become sadder than I can handle.

I have talked to my supervisor about it and she is willing to step in for a few months to give me a break. I appreciate that so much. But eventually I’ll have to go back which makes me even more depressed. I’m tired of seeing the bad side of humanity. I want to see some good stuff. I want to affect change in a positive way, not retrospectively review what could have been done to prevent something bad. I want to see some results of what I do, not have my work linger in committee for 3 years (which is also why I’ll never be a politician). I want to know that I’m actually making a difference.

I recognize that those are pretty tough demands. But I feel that with blogging and writing, I can affect change in a positive way. I can help people learn to make changes in their mindset about money and debt. I can become an advocate for financial freedom and, if I want, I can take up an advocacy role for these kids rather than feeling like a helpless drone. I can actually use my policy background for positive, rather than negative, reasons.

Walking away from this job is not going to be easy. I work with wonderful people, I have a great office with lots of windows, I have a ton of freedom, paid vacation and sick time,  a steady paycheck, a pension, medical, vision and dental benefits, a casual dress code–pretty much anything you can want in a job. But it’s just too depressing and I’m sick of the politics that go along with having a government job (the straw for me was not related to my job but to my husband’s. That’s another story for another time. Let’s just say that just because you have a PhD and are friends with a Cabinet Secretary does not mean you are qualified to run an entire division). So I’m working on a plan. I’m not leaving this kind of job, which I do feel lucky to have, without a concrete plan. But I can’t do this job much longer.

It took a lot of soul-searching to come to this conclusion. While I still don’t feel confident in my ability to earn a living as a freelancer, that lack of confidence has got to be better than being depressed every single day. I can overcome the lack of confidence; I’m not sure I can overcome the depression.

 

 

 

Foster parenting is NOT a side job

by Jana 12 Comments

I try to keep this blog as upbeat and as entertaining as possible. I try to stay away from anything controversial because, if you know me, then you know that I’m about as controversial as vanilla ice cream. I’m not one to get up on a soapbox and proclaim my views and opinions for all to hear. Although I write this blog, it really belongs to you–my readers. I try to write about what you want to read (or what I think you want to read) and I don’t think that my opinions on the topics of the day are what you want to read. But sometimes I need to break that rule. Sometimes I really, really need to get something off my chest. This? Is one of those times.

About a week or so ago, I was reading a very well-written post on a very large, popular blog. The post was about different scenarios for single moms and dad and how they manage their finances. Overall, I agreed with everything said. However, there was one sentence that stuck out for me and I have not been able to get it out of my head. In one of the scenarios, this is what she wrote “Sadie has taken in a foster child to offer companionship for her son and to increase their income.” I almost went through the roof.

As someone who works in child welfare, I am appalled at the thought of even suggesting that someone take in a foster child for extra income, never mind referring to said child as offering companionship. This is a child, not a puppy! To even intimate that a foster child is “companionship” is both disgusting and offensive.

Putting a child in foster care is not something that happens frivolously or without any thought. If a child is removed from a home, it is usually due to severe neglect, abuse or dependency, or some combination of the three. It is traumatic for the child because, even though he might have been abused, the abuser is most likely the only parent or guardian he has ever known and is quite attached to that person. Not only that, these are children with trust issues, psychological issues, medical issues, educational issues–you name it, they probably have some of it. To put that child into a home where the person is doing it purely for side income does a service to no one.

Let’s focus on the money for a minute. Yes, it is true that foster parents get paid. I’m sure that in some instances it is a fair amount of money, especially for a child with special needs. And unlike with biological children, many expenses don’t have to be paid out of pocket. Children in foster care are usually on Medicaid, receive purchase of care for day care assistance, get clothing stipends and are eligible for other state services. Yes, this relieves the financial burden on the foster parents while allowing that person to do a very good and noble thing by being a foster parent. But no one should EVER contemplate becoming a foster parent solely for the money.

Foster parenting is hard, hard work. For starters, you are accepting into your home a child with many of the issues mentioned above. With those issues come the following: doctors, court dates, social workers/case workers, therapists, teachers and other school personnel, probation officers (in many instances), biological parents, visitation with biological parents, guardians ad litem, child advocates, and I’m sure I’ve left out a few. As a foster parent, you need to manage all of these people in the child’s life and, in many instances, attend meetings and court dates just like you would for your own child or children. This could mean time off of work (if you don’t have paid vacation or personal time, are you OK with losing the time/money?) or personal calls and business at work (is your boss OK with this?). It could mean spending your own money on the child, too.

I was speaking to a foster parent a few weeks ago about a particular child. This foster parent had gotten the child a membership at the local YMCA, took him on family outings such as the movies and dinner, and was working with the child to set up his own lawn mowing business. These expenses are not paid through our children’s department, They are paid for out of the foster parents’ own pockets (which, yes, may be lined a bit with the money they’re receiving from fostering). But the point is they were not treating the child like companionship; they were treating him like a family member. That? Is the point of fostering. To provide a temporary but stable family-like environment for a child whose family is in crisis. It’s why the term “parent” is in the title.

There’s no denying that there is a shortage of foster homes. Many teenagers are being put into group homes that often do more damage than good. But to simply take on the task of becoming a foster parent for side income is both foolish and selfish. If it is something that you are strongly considering, or even lightly considering, I suggest you contact your local foster care coordinator to see what is required. What’s the process for being approved? What training do you have to go through? What types of kids do you expect to see coming into your home? Do you have the discretion to say no? Will you be able to let go when the child gets moved to another placement or gets moved back home? These are the questions that you need to be asking, not wondering if the child will provide some additional income.

It’s not often that I get fired up like this. Issues like this hit a nerve for me because of what I see every day, and have seen almost every day for the better part of 10 years. If you are considering fostering, I commend you. It is a thankless, difficult and stressful job. Please just make sure that you are doing it for the right reasons.

*Steps of soapbox and ends rant. We will resume our normal programming tomorrow.

Breastonomics

by Jana 17 Comments

It was only a matter of time before I wrote this post.

Since a good number of you who read this blog have already met me, you can validate what I’m about to say: I have big boobs.

It’s something I’ve been cursed with my entire teenage and adult life. Seriously, since high school. It was humiliating.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more accepting of them and I realize that they’re here to stay. But as I’ve become more accepting of what I have, I continue to be stunned by women who want these so much that they’re willing to pay large sums of money for them. Breast implants are one of the most ridiculous wastes of money. Ever. Unless you’re in a specific industry that rewards that type of enhancement, big boobs cost more than just the surgery.

A few examples of how:

  • Bras. Anyone who wears anything other than a training bra knows how expensive these damn things are. The larger your chest is, the more expensive the bra, especially if you need a minimizer bra. Then there’s the cost of getting them not from a department store or an outlet store, but a specialty store where they fit every single part of your chest and the bras cost about $100 a piece. If you do this twice a year and buy 5 bras at a time, you’ve now spent $1K on bras. That is most likely double what an ordinary person would spend. And you don’t even get to buy those cute, frilly fun bras.
  • Clothes. Oy, clothes. I hate them. If I could wear oversized sweatshirts my whole life, I’d be fine. Since I can’t, I have to make one of two choices: clothes that are too small on my chest but fit the rest of me or clothes that are so big I look like Walter Hudson. The first choice involves buying a camisole or something similar to wear underneath, especially for button-down shirts (which are my preference. The second choice involves some creative laundering or a tailor. Either way, I can’t buy stuff right off the rack without incurring additional costs. And let’s not even discuss the humiliation and expense that is a bathing suit. It’s not fun having to tack on an extra $100 or so each time I want to go clothes shopping just so I can compensate for my chest.
  • Health costs. I have been fortunate that my boobs have not caused any major health problems for me. But there are a number of women who have back problems, shoulder problems, etc from being top heavy as well as self-conscious about their boobs, which leads to poor posture (I can totally identify with this). They have to go to chiropractors, doctors…some even need to have breast reduction surgery to deal with it. Carrying that kind of weight up front can do a lot of damage to a woman’s body, and that damage can be costly, especially if insurance won’t cover it.
  • Laundry. I’ll admit it. I’m also a clumsy eater. An unfortunate side effect to my large boobs and clumsy eating is that my shirt wind up acting like a napkin. I have stained more shirts than I can keep track of. This means that I have to do extra laundry and always keep a consistent supply of Shout wipes in my purse at all times (for the record? I love these things). The constant laundry and the fact that I can single-handedly keep the Shout brand in business means I’m having to spend extra money. Of course, I can just stop eating all together and avoid the stain problem that way. That would actually save money. I guess it’s a thought…
I could go on to discuss the psychological disadvantages to having a large chest but I won’t. I could also go on to discuss the few and far between benefits of having a large chest but I won’t (but since I know some of you will point out the benefits of free drinks at bars, I will concede that point. And I will further admit that yes, I have used that tactic and yes, that has worked to my advantage on a number of occasions). I will just stick with the increased daily costs because that’s what really needs to be considered.

For those of you who believe that having big boobs is a sign of being overweight, well, you’ve got a point. But there are plenty of women who are not overweight–including me for quite a while–who are well endowed. And as I continue to lose the baby weight that has somehow managed to take quite a liking to me despite my attempts to get rid of it, my chest size has not decreased. It’s frustrating and annoying but I refuse to have surgery to deal with it. I’ll compensate in other ways, even if it means increasing my clothes budget or keeping my arms folded over my chest whenever possible.

And for those of you contemplating a boob job, I want to emphasize the point that having a large chest is not a long-term solution to any self-esteem problems. You may think that now you’ll feel better about yourself, and I’m sure you will. But please trust me when I say that padded bras are definitely a better solution.

 

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