Further Explanation

It seems that many people feel the way I do about the excess that our nation's children seem to be given. SAndi P., oh how I agree with you about the cell phones given to young children. It's like the beepers we used to have to have when we were kids, Of course, beepers were much less expensive, and my parents never would have bought me one so I didn't even ask. And Kate, your husband's friend sounds like so many people we have met over the years. It's terrible that these people cannot even sympathesize, or just plain understand, why your kid's needs outweigh anything else. I don't get it.

I thought I had left a little out as I was trying to get my point across. In a past post, I explained my childhood and how much it was different than my husband's. My parents married at 18, had my brother at 19 and me at 21. We always had what we needed, but at one particular point, my dad lost his job. This forever changed the way I view money. My mom had to work two jobs during this time while my dad searched for another. We moved several times in my life. And I got teased because I did not have the latest 'designer' clothing. My mother said she cried the day I asked her to just go and buy the labels and sew them on my jeans; I don't have to have the real thing. I didn't understand at the time that Guess didn't sell just their labels at the local JoAnne Fabrics. I always felt like the odd man out.

So fast-forward to my marrying a man who came from a family that actually took vacations to Europe, and whose parents had paid for his bachelor's and masters degrees. I luckily got an academic scholarship and some grants, plus student loans so I could attend college. If I hadn't h gotten the scholarship, I don't know how I would have paid for college. My husband had also already been working 4 years by the time we met, so he had more money than I did as an entry level teacher. He hated my Chevy Cavalier, but it's what I could afford. I got a great deal on it since it was my brother's car before he landed a company car. Anyway, I still felt the burn of being the one 'without'. My hubby's sports car, beautiful suits and ties, and the way he could just spend money and not worry about it fascinated me. I thought it was wonderful, and I wanted that life. I wanted it BAD. Now lest you think I didn't love my husband, that's not true. We dated for three years before we got married, and I loved him almost from hello. Sorry, that's cheesy, but I couldn't resist. However, I have never denied that his financial stability was a plus in my eyes. My kids would have everything! They would never feel less than good enough. They would always have the best clothes, the best toys the best everything. Do you see a trend here?

When S. was born, we found out my mom's cancer was terminal. I few days later, I began taking anti-depressants because I had been diagnosed with PPD. Those were good times, I tell you! Six months later my mom died, and I was so angry, so lost, so lonely, so depressed. I did not want to up my Paxil because I wanted to have another child, so I suffered. That's when it all started. My 18-month shopping spree. I bought and bought and bought some more. I had never bought many high-priced clothing items even when I was working, because I still always worried about the 'what ifs'. I worried that my adult life might turn out like my childhood life, and we needed to save, save, save, so that never happened! After my mom died, I just didn't care anymore. I bought almost, and I am serious here, the entire fall line of baby boys' clothes from the Gap. S. had every toy imaginable. Sometimes I would buy him a new toy, because 'I' needed a new toy to play with. I bought clothes for me, lots of them. And since I was barely eating, I was back into a size 1 or 2. Now though, I had hips and had donated my old clothes to Goodwill. So, of course, I needed to buy new clothes, right?! I bought new shoes, Clinique make-up (I still love their foundation, powder and mascara). I remodeled the kitchen, which my mom and I planned on designing together, she was so good at that. We had agreed on red paint, and then she died. I still remodeled the kitchen, but I was so depressed that she wasn't there to help me. I convinced J. we should put in hardwood floors, and he convinced me we needed all new windows and doors, which we did. I still love my kitchen, it's small, but it's pretty. Well, Christmas came, and I bought too much. I didn't care if something was on sale, it took everything I had to go Christmas shopping that year. My mom and I used to go every year. I had tears in my eyes the whole season, and by then I had had three failed infertility cycles. So it appeared that maybe S. would be an only child, which just solidified my belief that S. should have everything and the best. By that spring I had had another three failed cycles, a surgery that did not relieve my endometriosis pain, and it certainly hadn't helped me to have another child. The anniversary of my mom's death occurred; I was on Vicodin for the endo. pain as I kneeled in front of her grave. The next week was Mother's Day. And that's when I did it; I bought something that I am still embarressed about buying. It signifies greed, in my opinion. I bought a Coach purse, matching wallet and check-book cover for the tune of $500.00. It still makes me sick to my stomach. I didn't buy it because I thought it was such a good-looking purse; I bought it because it said Coach. It's ugly, but I also believe the Louis Vutton brown bag is ugly, so there you go. I was in so much pain, I thought I could buy my way out of it, and it worked, for maybe a day. I would have given anything to have my mom back, but since God had taken her away, I certainly DESERVED all this, right? Plus, when I was growing up I dreamed of the day when I could afford to buy the latest designer things. I thought people would look at me now, and not know that I once struggled. That girl would be dead. I would finally make it into the adult version of the 'cool' club. But you know what, it didn't make me happy. I won't lie to you and say it wasn't fun, or that I still don't like nice things, I do, but things just weren't cutting it. I missed my mother, I dreamed of having another child, I was clinically depressed. The latest Coach bag wasn't going to fix all that. And it didn't.

Today, I am a different person, I am happy to say. I have my second child, and finally found a psychiatrist who knew what the hell he was doing and actually cared. What a concept! I still miss my mom every single day, but I am in a better place in the the grieving process. I am now on the right regiment of medication; I did not realize just how long and how badly depressed I was until I felt better. I let my dream of a baby girl go, because I need to stay on this medication, and I am on a dose that would cause birth defects. And, we no longer have my ILs interfering in our lives telling us everything we do wrong, and wanting more, more more. You would not believe how much this has helped J. and I. I now am back at church, and see there is something bigger out there. People care about us there. I have actually had people come up to me and tell me how badly they felt for me the day of R.'s christening when my MIL made that big scene. And now that I am feeling better, I no longer care so much if someone likes me or not. I am no longer wearing the nicest clothes; hell, I don't fit in most of the clothes that I used to wear. I feel a sense of peace. I want my kids to know the value of a dollar. To want to make a diffference in this world. To be good men.

So I continue to live in my small house, in my middle-class neighborhood, with many neighbors who are gasp! blue collar. With two kids there is less money to spend, but the NEED is no longer there. Please do not think we are wealthy, we are not. We saved a lot before we had kids, and paid down the bills we could before the kids arrived. Our accounts are lower. My medical bills are not helping in that area, plus recently we had to spend some money we were not planning on having to spend. I still like nice things, please do not get me wrong, but I will look more closely at price tags, and question how much I really need it. Before, I just bought. To think what we could have saved if I hadn't spent that money. I am an emotional spender. At any rate, true happiness does not come in the form of designer duds, red wine and fancy dinners. It comes with inner peace, and strong values, and people who love you. It comes from being on the right medications. I am not always happy, but I am not depressed. Those of you who have faced depression know what I am talking about. I feel happiness when I can help someone else; when I make a difference. Not from overindulging my kids or myself. I can pay the bills and not be sick to stomach worrying about money. I am blessed, so now it's time to give back.