Thank you, (and Damn you) Dave Ramsey

My soon to be adventures as a stay at home dad would not have been possible had it not been for a sound financial decision made by Karla almost twelve years ago.......And I just about lost my mind in the process.

Let's go way back and focus in on our upbringing for starters.   It will serve as the ground work for this little blog.

 I grew up the oldest of four boys, and my mom was a hard core bargain shopper.  Being a Filipino you can just imagine her disappointment when she first discovered that haggling in department stores in the new country was generally frowned upon.  But she quickly got over it as she discovered the joys of garage sales and blue light specials (K-mart, for those of you too young to remember)

So I spent my childhood wearing old concert shirts and jerseys of teams I never heard of.  Looking back there was nothing wrong with the clothes, they were all in good shape.  But I was well aware that I was not "in style", and I hated it.  I find that laughable, now that I don't really care what the "in" style is.

So when I graduated from high school and got my first full time job I was determined to live it up.  And boy did I.  One hundred and twenty dollar Nike shoes?  Yeah, I had more than a few pair of those.  I bought my first car, got an apartment with nothing to move into it.  I did manage to take my old bed and an old couch from home.  But I went out and bought everything else.  Life was good.

Being a music junkie, I bought cassettes/CD's (yeah, I just dated myself) - two or three a week every week.  I don't have any of them now.  I could go on and on.....But I think I've given you enough information to see where I'm going with this.

I literally spent my paycheck as soon as I got it.  There was no retirement or saving plans.  As long as I could cover my bills all was right with the world.  And I never balanced my check book.  It was just a general guide line as far as I was concerned.  In short ----- I was a financial idiot.

Karla, on the other hand, grew up on hand me down clothes as well.  But her take on it was quite different.  She grew up on a dairy farm and, the one thing you need to know about farming is, you don't do it to make money......You do it because you love to do it.

I may have grown up on my Mom's stingy budget.  But Karla grew up learning how to squeeze blood from a turnip - there was little room to be frivolous.  And in her household the kids were expected to do their part to keep the farm going.  There was helping with the milking.  There was picking up rocks in the field, herding cows whenever they got out, building fences, running errands - there is always work on a farm.  While her family was not poor by local standards, she and her siblings were expected to help on the farm.  Her folks founded the "50/50 Plan" with the kids.  When the kids wanted contacts or summer camps, they were expected to foot the bill for half of the cost.

So, early on, Karla acquired two things that I didn't until much later in life.  1) a strong work ethic and 2) an in depth understanding of the value of a dollar.

When we got married we moved into student housing while Karla attended classes at KU.  Student housing was cheap and with me working full time life was good; still no worries.

But it only took a month into our marriage for Karla to figure out that I had no financial sense at all.  When we got a joint checking account we were issued ATM cards.  A month later Karla comes up to me holding a bank statement and asks, "Tom, where did you spend all this money?"

I don't remember the exact figure.  But I do remember it was rather large.  All I could answer was "Uuuuhhhh," (Doing my best Butt head imitation now) "I don't know."

I figured that playing stupid at that point was a lot better than admitting that I spent a good chunk of that money on beer and McDonalds.

So one month into our joint checking I got my ATM card cut up and was put on an allowance.

Things got much better after that fiasco.  But, then the home ownership bug bit.

We were determined to get our own house; despite the advice of our parents to not get in a hurry.  This is where the start of the debt snowball began.

At first it wasn't a big deal.  Our mortgage payment was hefty but we could afford it. Life was still good.........Then we had our first child......Then, all hell broke loose.

Any young couple expecting their first child that tells your their prepared either has A) Rich parents or B) no flipping clue what they are getting into.  We were B.

You have the usual expenses;  Diapers, day care, formula, baby clothes that they outgrow it seems on a daily basis.  Yeah, we thought were were prepared.  Let me tell you, babies poop....... a lot.

But then there are the things that you don't expect.  It usually happens around the time your first child learns to crawl/walk.  Toby was walking at nine months......No, seriously.  I'm not talking take a few steps and face plant into the ground.  I mean full on walking.  And that's when things got really expensive.  No matter how much you watch them, all it takes is one lax moment and the little minion from Hell breaks something.

A few examples;  A pop tart in the VCR.  Ribbon ripped out of the printer. A kitchen magnet placed on the computer monitor.  A missing cell phone that shows up three months later in the bottom of one of your change jars.

It was around this time that the word "Budget" first reared it's ugly head.  I've never had to budget before.  Money was never a problem.  Then our luck got worse.

On top of mortgage, baby, car, student loans, and 2 credit cards, my car died.  When you have it towed to the shop and mechanic says, "I wouldn't even bother" you know your vehicle is fried.

So we added another car payment.  The following winter was brutal and our utilities sky rocketed.  We began to realize that we were in trouble.

Now it's true that by most people's standards we were doing just fine.  We were still putting money away in retirement (Well, Karla was putting our money into retirement), and we were paying all of our bills.

But we were living paycheck to paycheck and, for us, that was unacceptable.  Unacceptable for Karla because she wanted more than just retirement.  She wanted a nest egg and a huge "rainy day" fund for when things went wrong.  I just wanted my play money back.

And that is when Karla discovered a Mr. Dave Ramsey.

For those of you who don't know him.  Mr. Ramsey (I don't know him well enough to be informal) is a financial guru and motivational speaker whose main focus is helping people get out of debt.

Me, being a financial idiot, had no desire to attend the Financial Peace classes.  Karla, however, did attend, and she bit into it hook, line, and sinker.  She came out of the classes absolutely obsessed with the idea that we could be debt free.  And she fell back on her days growing up on the farm to get it done.

We went beans and rice, rice and beans.  My allowance got significantly smaller, and every penny we earned went straight to debt reduction.

Now Mr. Ramsey says that in every relationship you have the Nerd and the Free Spirit.  In financial terms Karla couldn't be any more nerd if she tried.  So in regards to her strict beans and rice philosophy she took to it like a fish to water.

The free spirit, however, was absolutely losing his marbles.  I was making money, but I wasn't getting to spend any of it.  I even remember working weeks of overtime just to see it put a new roof on the house.  I was thinking big screen TV....... silly me.

It was beyond a doubt the longest ten years of my life, but, we did it.  The first thing we did was sell our huge house.  We then saw that a little berm home was for sale in an adjacent, smaller town.

This was a good idea for two reasons.  A smaller school is what we wanted for our children and, if Karla could get me out of a larger town where there was too much temptation for me to resist, that was a bonus.

So we went to check it out.  When we first walked in the door our welcoming committee came in the form of cat urine.  Red flag number one.  Delving deeper into the house we saw tiny objects hopping about the carpets:  fleas.  Red flag number two.  In one the rooms we looked into, the window was broken and stuffed with an old Harley Davidson blanket.  Red flag number three.

I looked at Karla and shook my head.  "Wow, what a dump."  I then looked at the realtor.  "We'll take it."

I'm sure our family that helped us move in thought that we had gone off the deep end and, to be honest, I wouldn't have disagreed if they told me so.  But everyone stayed tight lipped.

In our new home we were very well aware that we had a project on our hands. But the important thing was we just cut our mortgage in half by making the move.  Fleas and urine be damned.

With the mortgage reduced we then got to work on paying off our debts.  First came one credit card, then the other.  Next came my student loans, followed by one car, then another, and finally, the house.

I look at the previous paragraph.  It's so tiny.  Yet that tiny paragraph took ten years; and I was miserable every step of the way.  The free spirit just couldn't wait to bust out and go on the rampage again.  I wanted a new TV, a new home stereo system.  I wanted my Nike apparel back as well as my Cubs jerseys and hats.  I wanted to go out to eat again.  I wanted to go to the movies.  On and on and on.

So when we finally made our last payment on the house I felt as if I had just been released from prison.  I mean, I thought that, perhaps, it had that same feel.  Well, minus the whole butt sex thing.  I wasn't thinking about that.  Ok, I guess I just wrote it so the thought obviously crossed my mind.  I guess I just thought I was getting screwed........Metaphorically speaking, of course.  You know what, let's move on.

So, finally free, I promptly went to Kohl's.  I was going to buy some clothes.  HOORAY!!!!

I walked in the door and went directly over to where all my beautiful Nike apparel lay.  Once there I fell in love with a pair of black shorts.  I smiled as I held it in my hands, cradling it as if I were holding a new born child.  My mouth watered as I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and soaked in the joy.

Then, suddenly, a little voice popped into my head.  "Forty dollars for a pair of shorts?  That's a lot of money"

My eyes popped open and I grimaced, "Who said that?"

The little voice continued, "You know, there is a less popular brand over there for half the price.  You could buy two of those."

A blood vessel began to rise out of my temple, "Go away, you prick.  I've waited for ten years to do this.  Don't ruin it for me."

The little voice giggled, "Tsk, Tsk, Thomas.  You know the three day rule don't you?  Walk away, and if you still want it three days from now, come back."

My heart rate elevated as I became enraged with the voice inside my own head.  I started to wonder if there was anyone around witnessing my melt down.

"Why are you doing this to me?  After what I went through, I deserve these shorts."

The little voice, calm and cool, said.  "Have you learned nothing about financial peace?  You've got shorts at home that you don't wear now.  Step away brother, and find a better use for your money."

Unhappily, I relented to the little jerk.  "Oh,  (sniff), OK."

In total defeat, shoulders slumped and head down, I left Kohl's empty handed.  And I never went back for those shorts.

And this is where I say, DAMN YOU, DAVE RAMSEY!!!!!   I spent ten years on a budget and now that I have the opportunity to treat myself I feel guilty about an unnecessary purchase.

From that day until now, every time I go to buy something for me I find myself in complete agony.  I question every purchase I attempt to make with, "Do you really need this?" and find myself, nine times out of ten, putting the item back on the shelf.

It's gotten so bad that Karla usually has to be there to tell me to buy it because I can't do it myself.

Now I have no problem buying for the kids.  I spend all kinds of money on them.  But for myself, the process has become to painful.

But, I have to grudgingly admit, it's for the better.  Over time, I've learned that a lot of the things I thought I really wanted were not the things that truly make me happy.  That's what my family is for.

So, thank you, Mr. Dave Ramsey.  (And damn you, but just a little)

By the way, Mr. Ramsey, the nerd bought a brand new Honda Pilot.

Yeah, nerd, I'm rattin' you out.  :)