Financial Future Secure . . . For Now

I would first like to thank everyone for the nice words of encouragement this week, either on this blog or on the phone or in person. After a long slow week I think, hope, that everything is getting sorted out. Dennis will be going back to work . . . eventually. He has to see the EAP from the company and I guess we go from there. He is feeling better, although all this stress wasn't helping him one bit. It wasn't helping me either, apparently one side effect of work stress is threatening to quit and thereby, henceforth and therefor giving your wife a heart attack. He told me that as soon as he decided he should quit his job he felt much better, like all the stress was lifted off his shoulders. I told him that when he told me he should quit all that STRESS didn't just lift off his shoulders, it jumped off, picked up momentum and jammed itself into my gut.

So, as of now I am just hoping that we will end up with a resolution that we are both happy with, something that doesn't cause him to feel like running over his boss with a motorcycle (a true story, a worker from another garage actually did that to their manager) and that also lets me continue to buy food at the grocery store. It really doesn't seem too much to ask for, right?

88% Is Practically 100%

On Monday night my husband came home from work and informed me that he had to quit his job. Hello? Excuse me? Pardon me while I go throw up. He has worked for the same company for 14 years (he's 34, so basically his entire working life) and I know that lately he has had a LOT of stress at work. Managers have started looking for reasons to fire guys, suspend them, basically make their lives miserable. The company he works for (which shall remain nameless) is a communications business and Dennis works on the lines, up in poles, in people's houses, in businesses. For the last couple of years this company has really been pushing their "wireless" products much more. Internet, cell phones. Great for advancing technology, not so great when your main source of income comes from actual wires. So for the past few months his work environment has been very unpleasant, to say the least. He has GPS in his truck. They hound him about why he was so many miles from a job, why he stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for 12 minutes, why his truck sat idling for a certain amount of time. Did he hand out a special card to the customer? Where is it? The customer says they didn't get it. What? It's true that if I had to work with someone leaning over my computer asking me why I was doing what I am doing and telling me that I am doing it wrong I may go insane too. So I am sympathetic. But quitting really seems like the LAST option to go here. His immediate boss likes him. He told her that he was going to quit and she talked him out of it. Told him to calm down. Take 2 or 3 vacation days and relax. Think about it. I might need to send her a fruit basket. He pulls good numbers (some of the best in the garage) and she realizes that they can't afford to lose him. HER boss on the other hand doesn't seem to really care how many guys go crazy and quit. They seem to figure less salaries to pay, less benefits to give out, and they want to be all "wireless" anyway, so what the hell, right? Well the hell is that we have 2 kids and 2 mortgages and a car payment, and food and heat and electricity, and these "wires" are 88% of our income. We can't lose 88% of our income. We could lose 88% of our house! We would have to eat 88% less! (Hmm, maybe I'll lose 88% of that weight I've been meaning to take off.)

Dennis told me "don't worry, it will all work out fine." This from the man who worries about RIDICULOUS things, things that don't even really affect us. Things that happen far far away. Who believes the world may actually end in 2012. Who has said that maybe we should arm ourselves in case of an end of the world emergency so that people can't loot our water supply. But losing 88% of our income? Nah, don't worry. No problem. It will work out he tells me. "Sure it will" I want to scream "because I WILL WORK IT OUT!" Someone has to be the one to work things out and that is usually (ALWAYS) me! I balance our checkbook and pay our bills. Buy the food and the kids clothes. I KNOW what him not working would do to us and I know exactly how long it would take us to sink into financial despair. It is about 3 weeks. So yes, THIS, this is something I do worry about. I am trying not to freak out yet though. He is going to take these few days off. He is going to talk to the Union (that he has payed serious dues into for 14 damn years) and discuss his options. Maybe he can transfer, or, oh, I don't know. All I know is that although he could get a new job somewhere, it might take a very long time and there is no way he would be making the same amount that he is making after working for 14 years for the same company. I am realistic, unfortunately I am VERY realistic, and that is not always a good thing. Not a good thing at all.

Instead of worrying, lets just have a listen to the kids and my new FAVORITE song. Take a deep breath. Relax. All will be fine. Really.

There When I Need Him

For all the bitching I do about my husband (well, not so much on this blog but plenty in real life) he really was there for me this morning. After I got Jack off to the bus stop I must not have closed the van door all the way because half an hour later when Abbey and I hurried and scurried and ran outside in the 4 degree air it would not start. Dead battery. With mounting aggravation because really, who needs THAT first thing in the morning, I got Abbey out of the 4 degree weather and back into the house. I figured I would have to kick at Dennis because he was dead asleep to the world and DETESTS and HATES and LOATHES getting up, but lo and behold he was already downstairs and on his way out the door. "I heard" he mumbled and went out into the cold to jump start the car. He didn't even give me a sideways look or a disgusted sigh when I admitted that I may have left the door open which could have drained the battery. Within 6 minutes we were on our way and later, when I warmed up, I realized what a disaster it could have been. If he didn't work 2nd shift and wasn't home, what would I have done? Called AAA (which I don't have)? Called a neighbor (who would be at work)? Flagged down the first car that drove by? All of these options were much worse than the reality, which was I stood in the warm house drinking coffee and watched my husband do his car thing. So he gets points for this morning, points that were subtracted when he wouldn't put Christmas lights on the outside of the house. And if you are asking, yes, I am keeping track of these points.

On another note, it is time for Napkin's first ever contest. I tried to think up a clever and extraordinary way to pick a winner, but my brain is tired from Christmas and Holiday paraphanalia so I will have to keep it simple. Leave a comment on this post telling me what your most favorite Holiday song is and I will randomly at random on a random day at a random time pick a winner out of a random hat. In case you were wondering, the kids and my favorite song of the moment is "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas." I'll give everyone about a week to leave their comment, since I am pretty sure that checking on my blog is not on everyone's daily checklist of things to get done!

Surprise Surprise

I'm so happy to share with you all that after almost 10 years of marriage my husband can still surprise me. First there was that extremely surprising (and expensive) Christmas gift of a trip to St. Thomas. Last night, it was a cat. Without even asking me. I tried to lock the door before he got to it carrying the cat carrier but he was too quick for me. The kids are thrilled of course, especially since they have been asking for a cat for ages. "Mommy when Max dies can we get a cat, please please please please." I clearly stated for all to hear (including my husband) that after the dog was gone we could think about getting a cat. Think about it. Just think. I am not a big cat person and I am certainly not a "multiple pets" person. I'm not sure why I don't like cats that much, but lets share some examples to try to find out, shall we?

When I was a little girl my Aunt got me and my brother a cat once as a gift. I'm not entirely sure she actually cleared this with my parents first, which is weird and kind of strange. Anyway, from my memory we had this cat for about 2 weeks before it mysteriously "ran away." My parents told me not to worry though because my grandmother saw it over in her neighborhood getting picked up by the animal rescue league where it would find a good home. I also remember hearing snippets of conversations in which my mother was not too happy about my aunt giving us a "slutty cat with a sexually transmitted disease that they had to put down." Yup. Slutty cat definitely did not end up in a good home. I'm not even sure they put it down properly. I have suspicions that my dad put it in a bag and threw it into the river. But that could just be my memory playing tricks on me.

Another memory I have is that once after a huge rainstorm I found a teeny tiny kitten that had been washed down into the sewer and was stuck there. My father? Or a neighbor? Or a stranger I don't even know wandering my streets? freed the poor little thing from certain death and I got to play with it for about 2 hours before my parents "returned" it to it's real home. Suspicious.

When we were teenagers Dennis gave me another cat for Valentines Day. A beautiful little white one. I'm not sure why because I had never given him any indication that I desired a cat, or even liked cats at all. I'm pretty sure he didn't clear this with my parents either. So he gives me this cat that spent the first 2 days under my bed, only to finally emerge and sit on top of my head, purring and licking my hair. It drove me CRAZY. I used to lock it out of my room at night only to hear my brother yell from his room "get this cat off my head!" After approximately 5 months the cat was chased into a corner under the porch by 2 neighborhood dogs and mauled to death.

So you see. I'm not a cat person. I don't even have good luck with them. And we have this dog you see. He's big and old and does not like cats in the least. Perhaps he is too deaf and his eyesight is too poor that he won't notice the cat? I have to admit, it's been an easy pet so far. Dennis opened the door to the carrier, I saw a streak of gray and the thing hasn't come out from under my bed. It did emerge sometime last night to use the litter box I put right next to the bed. But no other contact with us at all. Tonight it will probably come out and start licking my hair.