With four kids, my husband and I have never taken much time for ourselves. We’ve had children in one public school or another for the past twenty-four years. Yes, twenty-four years! In a row! Without a break in between. We have two more years to go–well, a year and a half–until our youngest graduates high school.

So, being the dutiful parents we have been for a long, long time, we’ve not done a lot of fun things for just the two of us. For one, we’ve been married thirty years and have yet to schedule our honeymoon. Kids arrived pretty soon after we said “I do,” and they kept coming. And never having been well-to-do, we have had to scrimp and save, taking just one vacation of one week long per year ever since we started taking vacations, which wasn’t until child number three was two. And 90 percent of our vacations have been in our car and along the West Coast.

My husband has been a steady provider. He doesn’t earn a fortune and if you saw our house, you’d think he wore a blue collar to work instead of white, but he’s made enough to pay the bills, save for a rainy day, and help the kids out when they needed it. And I’ve provided for the additional stuff–those unexpected bills that spring on you just when you think you’ve got the spending pattern under control. Being thrifty and just making enough means there have been a lot of dreams deferred to raise four kids to be reasonably well-adjusted adults. Fortunately that takes more time than money, but in a world where time is money, being present can equal not buying presents–especially for ourselves.

Last year I lost a dear friend who was younger than I am. Her daughters have now been without her for six entire months and they will never get her back. I’m sure if there was a way to buy an extra day, a week, or a year, my friend would have emptied her bank account, gone into debt, or robbed a bank just to have a little more time to spend with her girls, travel more, and experience more.

With that in mind, I booked a Memorial Day weekend trip to Sedona, Arizona, where several of my husband’s friends just visited to ride mountain bikes. I saw him eyeing those Facebook photos the way a bear looks at honey. I just knew he needed to get away. We lost his mother just two weeks after my friend, so it was a tough row to hoe for all of us last fall, then winter, and now into the spring as we sift through the probate process, packing up her property bit by bit, cleaning up and getting ready to sell a place where maintenance had been deferred for decades, while his sister and brother sit 2,500 miles away, waiting for the final check to arrive. It’s time to take a breather, to spend time doing for ourselves. To spend time just doing.

So in a few weeks, we’ll pack up the ten-year-old SUV and hope that the kids will want to come along. It sounds like a beautiful place and in May it won’t be as hot as in the summer months. It won’t be free, of course. There are two days of hotel fees, gasoline, and food on the road and at our destination, but in the end, I’m sure we’ll be happy to share one more experience and a couple more days, because when you’re gone, they’re gone. And there’s no buying them back.

In a half hour I am meeting a friend at a bagel shop. Her job with a company she’s been with for twenty years is in jeopardy. I’m sure I’ll hear again everything she’s already told me, but part of being a good friend is sitting through the anguish of another. I’m good at that.

I am going through my own turmoil but will try to keep my emotions in check and listen to her because I remember what it was like for us when my husband lost his job and had to scramble to find another. The job he currently has is the job he took then, in 2012, spur of the moment and just in time. It’s not by any means the perfect fit for him, but at nearly 55, he is happy to have employment. Even though the recession is behind us and things are looking up, men and women in their 50s still have the hardest time of anyone finding meaningful employment.

This is from a June 2012 Wall Street Journal article titled “For Middle-Aged Job Seekers, a Long Road Back”:

“As of May [2012], the unemployment rate for people ages 45 to 64 was 6%, some 10 points lower than for people under 25. But the lower rate disguises the fact that when middle-aged people lose their jobs, it’s much harder for them to find a new one. Those between 45 and 64 take almost a year on average to find a job, more than two months longer than workers between 25 and 44.”

We’re supposed to be in the prime earning period of our lives in middle age, sending kids to college, beefing up the nest egg for the next chapter in our lives–retirement. But after the recession, employers got savvy about who to keep on and who to let go and they chose to save money by hiring the young, who are willing to make less money when starting out in their careers.

My friend is contemplating taking the severance package if it’s offered, and it should be, and then taking a part-time job to make ends meet and until she can pay off her condo. She’s also considering moving to a less-expensive part of the country, which, if you live in Southern California, is just about anywhere else.

In the meantime, my husband holds on to his job by a shoestring. If he were to be let go, and his little firm has a history of letting people go on a regular basis, we are not sure what we’ll do. He’s been looking for work for years. He came close a couple times, but nothing panned out. Once again, the firms are opting to hire the young and inexperienced to give them a reason to pay less. Ironically, the job my husband took is for someone with five years’ work experience, not the 25 he has, but he had to take that pay in order to be employed. It’s not our parents’ America anymore. And our kids will have it even worse, I’m afraid.

My work, unfortunately, has also petered out dramatically in the past year. As a freelancer, I’m hired as needed and not used whenever the work slows or stops. I have zero job security, and it stinks. I’ve lost a lot of work this past year and a lot of my income. One-third. And I look constantly for more work, but it’s all so piecemeal that even if I get something to keep me busy, it’s often short term and the pay is horrific. I just wrote some entries for a book and my paycheck when the book is published, probably in 2016, will be a meager $250! For about twenty hours of work.

Well, it’s about time to go meet my friend, listen to her woes, and provide support. If nothing else, we middle-aged have a lot of support because there are a lot of us in the same predicament. Unfortunately.

This has been a year of changes like no other.  Things were going along swimmingly for quite some time before the last quarter of the year hit. Now, after having four working cars in the household–a 22-year-old Corolla, an 8-year-old Honda SUV, an 11-year-old Camry, and a very old minivan–two of our cars are kaput.

The Camry, which was my husband’s, has developed a stalling problem that only occurs on occasion, like once a week or once every two weeks. After taking it to our very competent mechanic who could find no problems with it, it is now at the dealership. The mechanics there too are finding nothing out of the ordinary.

We’ve done our own research and found that this problem is not all that unusual with this fifth-generation V6 Camry, but there never seems to be a definitive reason for the stalling. One post we read on a forum sounded as if we had written it, the problem was so identifiable. That Camry owner ended up selling the vehicle, so we never heard what the resolution was, if there ever was one. Very frustrating for a car that has up until now displayed no problems.

Then, the transmission on our ’96 minivan that our teenage son uses went out–again (American made)–and we are not putting good money after bad to fix that thing. We will look for something small and affordable. Or he can learn to drive the stick and take over our 22-year-old Corolla while I get a more decent used car, although I do love that bare-bones Corolla.

I guess this is a lesson in “things don’t last forever”–cherished vehicles or human beings. We have to get the most out of them while they are with us and move on when it’s their time to go–or not “go,” as the case may be. I just despise car shopping–whether for used or new–but it will be nice, if it comes to that, to have a brand-new car to start from scratch with. So, it looks like 2013 will be a year of “new beginnings.”

 

A lot has happened since I last wrote. The interview my husband had had turned into a no, but he didn’t stop there. The firm was worried that someone with his experience wouldn’t be willing to take the pay they were offering. So he pressed them, saying he’d be willing to take a reduction in order to work for them. After a lot of agonizing days and nights, the word finally came down that they would hire him, but the pay was woefully low. So low, in fact, that it was much less than he used to make, and he was underpaid then. After some more agonizing days and nights and making a counter offer, the firm agreed to up the salary by a few thousand dollars more. Even though it is still a lowball offer, my husband accepted, worried that another job may never come his way, or not in the near future anyway.

So, this is how it goes: One day you’re up, the next you’re down. Up and down, up and down, and then things are on an even keel, steady as she goes.

Because we’re down a significant amount of income, I will have to work extra hard to try to make up the difference, and that will be a test for me, but I’m up for the challenge. I’d love, however, for one day to not have to worry about money, not have to care how much a car  repair or a home renovation costs before making up my mind to do it. I’d like to not have to juggle money between accounts to pay for heavier than usual bills in certain months. Or, scrutinize every discretionary expense over $20. I’d like to maybe get my hair cut more than twice a year (I trim it myself between cuts) and take a much-needed trip on occasion.

But there are people who have it much worse, who work hard and still can’t ever take that occasional vacation or who have no money to juggle between accounts, or who are disabled and can’t make a living. For having what I have, I am grateful. I am thankful too that I grew up in a family that had the discipline to save money, however little that was coming in every month.

So for now, I will continue the austerity program until the paychecks beef up, because the important thing is that there will indeed be regular paychecks.

 

It’s been more than a couple weeks since I took on the austerity program, and it was about a week earlier than that that my husband got word of his layoff. He’s applied to several places and has actually had one interview at a firm he is extremely interested in. He’s waiting, however, for the final word on whether he or another candidate will get the job. He’s willing to make another effort at convincing the powers that be that he is the perfect choice, but it’s wait and see until then.

I learned the other day that a friend of ours lost his job, but he was let go under quite different circumstances. He was the head of an organization, its executive director, and he was ousted for what appear to be political reasons. His job is pretty specialized, so it may be difficult to find another similar position, especially in this town. But he has some recourse: He’s asking to be reinstated and he’s also filed a lawsuit because of wrongful termination. I’ve since learned that he was making an extremely good living, so I think the family will be just fine monetarily until the next job comes along–or he wins the suit, which is a bit different from our situation. Still, losing a job is stressful to the entire family, no matter what.

I was feeling pretty good the day I heard that news, not because of my friend’s hardship but because my husband had had that successful interview and because my friend had confided in me (after several months, I later learned) of her husband’s circumstances. It helps to have a kindred spirit, even if the circumstances are less than positive–or maybe especially so. The next day, however, I wasn’t faring so well. Or the day after that. Maybe it’s our suddenly gloomy weather mixed into the pot, but I felt as though I’d begun a downward spiral. It takes the right personality to be able to see the positive in things, especially during hard times. I’m afraid to say that I don’t possess that personality, although I wish I did.

I have another friend who’s much like me in our outlook on life: The glass is half empty; the sun may not come out tomorrow. Her husband went through a layoff a few years back that lasted six months and during that time he was quite ill. He finally found stable employment, but she is now forever in a race to build up the family income and savings in the event the pot boils over again.

I’m trying to see the sunny side of things and that if my husband doesn’t get this great job he’s currently after, another opportunity will come along. It may not be as perfect, but it will pay the bills. It has to be that way. It just has to. In the meantime, I’ll try to walk on the sunny side of the street and I’ll turn the burner to a steady simmer to at least keep the lid from falling off.

Today is the Fourth of July, but the weather is uncharacteristically gloomy and so is my mood. Already a week has passed since the bad news and nothing has yet come through for my husband.

Yesterday was our son’s thirteenth birthday. His Little League team pulled off an amazing win against one of our district’s strong horses and after the game, he, my husband, our elder daughter, and I went to a pizza place for dinner. I had received an online offer for an extra large one-topping pizza, four sodas, cinnamon bread, and a small salad for under $19, so we went there. The food took a long time to get to our table and my son wanted to join up with his team for a post-game celebration at the house of one of his friends. After eating, my husband took him over. I’ve yet to plan a real birthday celebration for him, so I’m glad he had some fun, but I also wonder if I will be able to throw him a party right now with our lack of funds. He doesn’t yet know about our circumstances.

Fortunately, my sister invited us over to my mom’s for a meal today, so I didn’t have to make another trip to the grocery store for food. I was happy to accept the invitation.

It’s about time to go. I will say a prayer for the resources we have–family, friends, and some money in the bank–and will pray for  financial independence.

Yesterday I took inventory of what I have in my freezer and cupboards and today was my first day at grocery shopping. My mission was to save as much as possible and get just what we needed to make what I already have into meals.  I think I did really well.

First of all, I have been accumulating points on a grocery store members’ card that I did not know how to convert to money off my bill. Before shopping, I phoned the grocery company’s 800 number (thankfully, someone was in on a Sunday) and I also printed a $10 off of a $50 purchase coupon from the store’s website.

I then shopped, leaving everything I didn’t need on the shelves. I still got a decent haul: a six-pack of mega-sized rolls of paper towels (I’d just hung my last roll this morning), a carton of OJ, three Gatorades, a bag of frozen french fries, a one-pound package of turkey breast and a nine-0unce package of ham, a package of Goldfish crackers, a tub of soft butter, four cans of tuna, a loaf of sourdough bread, a loaf of wheat bread, a package of six sandwich rolls, asparagus, tomatoes, green onions, organic broccoli, two packages of romaine lettuce, a pound of potato salad, two bags of chips (it’s Fourth of July week, so a lot of this stuff was on special), bananas, and a bag of apples. Total: $64.50. Then I subtracted my $10 coupon and swiped my store card containing $34 in rewards, bringing the total of my grocery trip down to $20.44! Not bad at all.

The coupons are often available, and it’s not too difficult to accumulate the extra reward money at this store, but this one trip was a bit of an oddity, being that I had saved up that $34 for months. Still, it proves that saving money by looking for bargains and shopping for only the things you need is possible in keeping the total grocery bill down. Fortunately, I have accumulated many years of bargain shopping and have learned much from my forebears. (Whenever I do something especially on the cheap side, my son tells me, “That was very Boucher of you,” meaning I have learned my cheap, or what I’d call thrifty, ways from the masters themselves, my parents and older siblings.)

I’m not saying that next week’s grocery trip will be this impressive or that I won’t need to run out to buy barbecue stuff for the Fourth or spend on food for my son’s birthday this week, but at least it makes me feel good knowing I can keep our bills down–the ones that are flexible, at least–with a little forethought.