3-Day-Weekends With Kids – A Double Bind Experiment
(written last week… with no time to post it)
Hello, it is Wednesday after a 3-day weekend and I am still not recovered. Every time our nanny has a day off, I just think… we do not pay her enough.
As I said in the title of this post, weekends with living kids are an absolute double bind. According to ChatGPT, a double bind is “a communication dilemma where an individual receives two or more conflicting messages, making it impossible to satisfy both demands at once. No matter how the person responds, they are punished, creating a no-win situation that often leads to anxiety and emotional distress.”
In this case, the “communication,” is communication from myself, to myself. AKA my thoughts.
Thought #1: 3 days is a VERY long time to spend ALONE with a child who doesn’t really play alone, doesn’t talk, doesn’t eat without help, and yet, wants to move around constantly and climb on you, and cover you in spit, barf, poop, bite marks and scratches.
Thought #2: Spending time with others means leaving the house and making plans. Plans are exhausting. Pre-planning the plans is even more exhausting. Wrangling an EXTREMELY active child in an environment I am not familiar with, and an environment that is likely not childproofed is even more exhausting.
Both of these situations definitely lead to anxiety and emotional distress.
Last weekend, I chose to carry out thought #2 and we had plans. 3 days, 3 different plans.
Day 1
Day 1 was hanging out with friends in a park. Easy, right? Wrong.
My pre-plan planning thoughts: When should we go to the park? Before the first nap at an ungodly hour in the morning? Or after the first nap, which is at an unpredictable time. Then I will need to text and keep our friends abreast of our timing, when I can never find my phone. And then, when he wakes up do I feed him before we leave? He will probably eat the pizza with us at the park, but I also don’t want to deal with a melt down on the way if he’s hungry. Also, the park is far. It requires an Uber. An Uber means a car seat. He hatesss being strapped in a car seat. I will need toys as a distraction. And a distance from home means a diaper bag. Who is going to pack the diaper bag? Me, of course. I could bring 0 snacks because we just fed him lunch AND there is going to be pizza there, but what if he is hungry? I will pack snacks. But what if he doesn’t like THOSE snacks? I will bring alternatives. If he’s going to eat, we DEFINITELY need wet wipes. And it’s hot, I should bring him water. He doesn’t usually like formula unless he’s going to nap, but what if he will nap in the car on the way home? Ok, I’ll bring formula. It’s cloudy but what if it gets sunny? I’ll bring a hat and sunscreen. And what about diapers? I need diapers and diaper paraphernalia for just-in-case blowouts and an outfit change.
All of that was before we even left for the plans.
Then we got to the plans, and I had to deal with pizza dropping on the ground and his obsession with the birds who tried to get the pizza off the ground, not to mention he himself, who was trying to pick up and then eat the pizza on the ground, which was, of course, far more appetizing than the pizza on the table. Also, the ant hills on the grass that I tried to steer his never-ending-crawling away from.
Needless to say, by the time we got home, I was 99% sure I was more tired than him. And it was only Day 1.
Day 2
Day 2 we had a wedding/50-year vow renewal for very close family friends. It was in Manhattan. That’s where we live! Easy, right? Wrong.
The wedding was at 11 am, also known as, right in the middle of nap #1. This meant no nap for A. This meant parental Olympics in the form of mama-distraction so he didn’t remember he was tired for hours. But first, mama needed to look presentable for a wedding where she would definitely see a colleague because it was at a synagogue. So, I put A in baby jail while I blow dried my hair and did my makeup, and he whined and cried at me and reached his arm out to me like he was indeed on Rikers Island, not 5 feet away from me, in a play pen full of toys.
After I got myself ready, I had to get him ready. Have you ever tried to fasten a shirt with 7 buttons on a tiger? Because that’s what it’s like putting a wedding outfit on a 10-month-old. I did one button then he somehow twisted himself onto the floor and crawled 3 feet away until I captured him in a body lock to do the next one while he screamed. Repeat 6 more times. And don’t get me started on the socks and shoes. Tying shoelaces on a child who doesn’t understand their foot movement control, or the fact that direct contact with their mother’s nose is not ideal, is a form of torture.
Once we arrived at the venue, as I mentioned, the boy could not sit still. For one full hour I tried everything I could to get him to not yell during the service. I sat down next to him, I had him sit on my lap. I gave him toys. I gave him a bottle. I stood up and held him. I brought him to the back of the sanctuary and let him crawl around while I chased him. I bounced him on my hip. I “shhhh”ed him (even though I don’t think he knows what that means). It was a Herculean feat, but he didn’t scream a single time and eventually, the service was over (it was beautiful from what I could concentrate on). Then came the brunch. Let’s just say… a lot of time was spent on the floor.
Day 3
Day 3 we technically only had one plan in the afternoon, and it was at my sister’s house. Very chill, very low key. Easy, right? Wrong.
Baby A decided to wake up at 6:45 am, so we had a longgg morning to fill. Since it was Fleet Week in NYC, I had a dream to find a group of sailors and take a photo of baby A with them. Sure, my brother is in the Navy and I could have just taken him to my brother’s work but this seemed much more NYC, much more Sex And the City. Except, like, everything that made Sex and the City, Sex and the City.
The place I knew sailors would congregate was the west side along the Hudson where all of the ships docked. We took the stroller down and sure enough, sailors were everywhere! We stared at the Intrepid for a while, lots of strangers talked to us, and then we came across a big group of sailors. I planned to just wheel baby A into the middle and take a candid, but the top-ranking guy forced them all to look at the camera. What an adventure! And we were home by 8:30. In the morning.
After morning nap, we had to get ready for the Memorial Day BBQ at my sister’s. This, of course, required all of the thought from the previous days. Diaper bag packing, snack necessity, outfit wrangling, etc. But this time, I also had to bring the small stroller that has no storage, because we were going to need to go up 10 stairs and fit in a small apartment.
We were on our way, walking, when it was clearly too warm for him. I decided to change plans and go on a bus, although I had never been on a bus with him in the stroller. Thank god for nice old ladies who helped me maneuver the handicapped seats. We finally arrived, maneuvered up the stairs, and the next set of obstacles presented themselves.
The apartment had toys, but of course he is too small to do anything but put them in his mouth, which he did thoroughly enjoy. He also crawled all over the floor where everyone was wearing their NYC shoes, and he licked the floor over and over again. Then he crawled everywhere, to the glass bowls, the very not-child-proofed kitchen area, and I was always 1 step behind him. There was another mom there with a baby 6 weeks younger, and he just sat in the carrier on her the entire time. Didn’t make a sound, didn’t fuss, perfectly content. Not my child! He was on the go, making friends with everyone, eating everything, cucumbers, hummus, brownies, you name it.
Almost everyone at the BBQ had kids, and I asked a fellow mom about it. She said, “who else is stuck in NYC on Memorial Day Weekend with no plans? The ones who it isn’t worth it to make plans and travel, the ones with kids.” True, but also, plans are TIRING!!! Baby A made it 10 blocks home until the meltdown began, and he cried the next 15 blocks straight until we made it home for a nap.
The next morning when our nanny came, she asked how our weekend was. I said, “I’m very happy to see you.”
This weekend, we have 0 plans and I could not be more excited about it.
Student Loans Part Two B – Decisions, Decisions, Decisions
Soundtrack: Prerogative by Britney Spears
(alternate: Bad Decisions by Ariana Grande)
“Everybody’s talking all this stuff about me, Why don’t they just let me live? I don’t need permission, make my own decisions, That’s my prerogative”
Here’s a scary statistic: according to the New York Times, “more than 1.1 million people in the federal direct student loan program defaulted in 2016 alone — a rate of about 3,000 per day.” Even scarier, federal student loan defaults drag down the economy, making it impossible for people to buy cars or homes, and follow people into old age, where their Social Security benefits are being garnished for loan payments.
What am I doing to make sure this doesn’t happen to me? Budgeting and planning. And hoping.
As the Instagram account @bored_teachers said a few weeks ago, “Can someone explain to me how some college students are traveling all over the world and I just used quarters for gas”?! The reality of having almost 6 figures of loans is, it affects every decision I make. Small and large.
Small Decisions:
I went from a twice daily Starbucks habit in law school, to now waiting for CVS 30% off coupons so I can buy bags of Starbucks coffee and make it at home. I wait on the edge of my seat on Thursdays, CVS coupon day, when I am almost out of ground coffee, and impatiently refresh my inbox to see if this lucky day will be my “30% off your total purchase” day. This is not an exaggeration. Two weeks ago, I got the long-awaited 30% coup and I bought 4 bags of coffee. That’s $7/bag, and a bag makes coffee for me for about a month. $7/month, as opposed to the previous $4/day.
But that is one of the easy small decisions. Skip Starbs, make it at home. Skip a cab, take the subway. Skip a dinner out, make ground turkey and eggs at home. What about the tough decisions? Kids? Homes? Do I skip those, too?
You guys know I have been avidly using mint.com to try and budget, but even then, these student loans hang over my head and I think to myself, “even if I skip going out to Starbucks for the next 10 years, does that add up to enough money for a down payment?” Probably not. And don’t even get me started on having a kid. And what about saving for retirement? I’m 30, that’s something I should be doing. I’ll tackle those three big decisions in turn.
3 BIG DECISIONS
Home-buying: I moved out of my parents’ house more than 12 years ago, and I am happy to say I have never moved back. That is not something a lot of people can say. StudentLoanHero writes about it all the time (great website). They have an article called, “Moving Back in With Your Parents: Financially Smart or Social Suicide?” I only skimmed the article, but my guess is, probably both. The Washington Post ran an article a few months ago encouraging parents to let their kids move home, “especially if parents allowed or encouraged a student to attend a college that necessitated some heavy borrowing.” But I am 30 now. I’m not trying to flee back to the nest. On the other hand, renting an apartment is expensive, especially in New York City! And forget renting for a second, what about buying? Thanks to my dad, and ironically, thanks to my student loans, I have amazing credit. So I could probably get a good mortgage. But where in the world am I supposed to find money for a down payment?
According to a Student Loan Hero survey, 41 percent of college-educated Americans with student loans have postponed buying a home because of their debt. At least I know I am not alone. An article on that same website offers some tips for how to get ready to buy a house when you have student loans: Improve your credit score, check your credit report, decrease your debt-to-income ratio, apply for pre-approval for a mortgage, consider down payment assistance programs.
Just reading those tips made me overwhelmed. Not to mention there are some things in that list that are impossible. Checking your credit report is easy, but how do I decrease my debt-to-income ratio when my loans are literally GOING UP? I think the answer here is: there’s no answer. And despite those great tips, as far as home-buying goes, I think my best bet is still to marry rich.
Children: I found a website where it lets you calculate how much it will cost to raise a child. I selected the Northeast region, and in an aspirational leap of faith, I selected that I was not single and that I was in the highest income category ($107K and above), which I am not, but with combined incomes (of my non-existent husband), let’s hope that I hit that minimum. The projected cost?? $496,830. GTFO. Really though, how does ANYONE afford that, nonetheless someone who is gushing money to the government every month? This is a huge topic, and a problem for the US in general since 70% of us have loans. In a recent article by StudentLoanHero, they told people not to let their loans get in the way of their aspirations of parenthood. However, in that article it was a double-income household, where they had a COMBINED $35,000 in loans. As you guys read two weeks ago, I have almost $100,000! What about then? As much as I try not to think about this (I have actively taken steps to ensure I am not getting pregnant anytime soon), it still gets into the back of my mind. I’m not saying I want to quit my job tomorrow and be a mom, but I know for SURE that I’d like to have children someday. It doesn’t seem fair that I made a mistake by going to law school, and for that reason I can’t procreate. Don’t get me wrong, I know plenty of poor people have kids all the time, so it can be done but I also want to be able to provide a child with the middle-class upbringing I had! I am only 30 years old and I may be getting ahead of myself, but here is why it has an impact on me and my choices right now.
I will be delving into the different repayment plans next week, but here are the basics relevant to my childbearing decisions: If I continue working in public service, and the public service loan repayment plan continues to exist, my loans will be forgiven in 7 years with no tax consequences. If I switch to non-public-service, or if the plan is discontinued by our (failure of a) commander in chief or his Cabinet, my loans will be forgiven in 17 years, AND with a massive tax consequence. In 7 years I will be 37. Still a totally acceptable time to have a kid. And/or buy a house. In 17 years I will be 47. As they say, tick tock, tick tock… TOO LATE. This has absolutely impacted my decisions about my career. The problem is, this 10 vs. 20 years thing is a huge gamble. The program could be thrown out by then! I wake up every day thankful that it is still around. And it’s looking like it might be discontinued soon. Even GQ wrote about it; so did NPR, so it’s probably a legit worry.
My savvy-emoji-live-in-financial-planner told me to not think so much about the amount of loans, but rather to think about it as the government owning 10% of my earnings for the foreseeable future. This is a bleak thought, but it does make me feel a little better about the fact that the principal of my loans continues to grow. It also affects my decisions, though. Should I forget completely about the public service program and just focus on making more money? (warning: math coming) If I make $50K now, the government takes $5K, I end up with $45K. If I make $100K, yes, the government gets twice as much, $10K, but I still make $90K, which still means I make $45K more! But I like my job! I already quit being a lawyer because I was miserable; should I go back to a job I hate so I can make more money so I can possibly have a kid (or 2?!) someday? There is no right answer to those questions, so I’ll just hop to the next big decision.
Retirement: Let’s say I never own a house and I never have kids. Those two things are choices and it’s possible they will never happen. But here’s an inevitable cost: retirement. I’m not saying I will retire at 65, almost no one does that anymore. Even Social Security started to raise the age to 67 lately. I told you in my very first installment that the only way to get your loans discharged is in death. But let’s say I unluckily live a very long life (knock on wood); I need money then, too! If I don’t start to save for retirement until my loans are discharged or paid off, I’m screwed. Because that time will never come. Or at least it won’t come until it’s too late.
I originally told you guys this would not be a financial advice blog, and so far I haven’t given you any, but here is your first tidbit: if your job has any sort of matching program, you absolutely must take advantage of it. Plain and simple: it’s free money. Matching basically means that for every dollar you put in, they will put in 100% of that amount into your retirement account, dollar for dollar up to the match. No matter the interest on your loans, it’s not 100%. I’m not telling you to default on your loans. But I am maybe telling you to make minimum payments on your credit cards if it means you can pay into a match program. The interest rate on your credit cards is probably 10-17% and the FREE MONEY from a match program is 100%! Small caveat here for if you have a massive amount of credit card debt, and in that case, look closer at the amount of interest you are paying, but in almost all cases, PUT MONEY INTO RETIREMENT IF YOUR COMPANY MATCHES.
I will admit, I was one of the people not taking advantage of this program at work because of my credit card debt for a full year. It was one of the first things that my emoji-bf absolutely would not budge or compromise on. He did not let me make it a choice. He told me it was mandatory. And he was right, I learned my lesson. I have never seen money increase in this way. Here’s the summary, guys: I’m still not rich. But I have been making my loan payments and hopefully I won’t be homeless when I turn 70.
Having a Savings Account: No. Just no. I am trying though, I really am! I already mentioned me laughing at my dad when he asked me about this. It is like a unicorn/phoenix/insert-other-mythical-creature in New York City.
Now that you read all of this hoping for advice on decision-making, I hope you aren’t depressed and pissed that I didn’t give you any. The real moral of this story is: there are no right decisions. Having thousands of dollars, or hundreds of thousands in my case, of loans is going to affect everything you do – every decision you make, from the ordinary errands to the big decisions like whether or not to have kids. Each person handles these decisions differently, and for the most part, there is no right answer (except not contributing to a matching retirement account). Whether or not it makes you feel any better, there are a lot of people struggling to make those decisions right along with you, including me!
Stay tuned in the next week or two for how I am handling my repayment, and which plans I have opted into and out of, in the four years since I graduated law school. Shana Tovah to all of my Tribe members out there (that’s for you, Mommy).