…hard at work, my editor-in-chief

See you all soon-ish!

=^..^=

As soon as we stepped into the sunniness of the lobby, I felt right at home. Libraries are like the perfect sanctuary—where it is okay to tip-toe about and wander a bit lost before stumbling into different worlds. It is okay to slip away for a time. To engage in deep thought. Everyone keeps a respectful distance and no one questions or judges you or anything. Nobody gives a shit.

Lexi and I shilly-shallied near the rear stacks. A smartly dressed man was glancing through Forbes magazine and we maneuvered past him to settle into a quiet seating area near the window. The cresting rail of the chair dug into my back as I hoisted Lexi onto my lap. I twisted about to get comfortable in order to get through some readings of Dr. Seuss and Curious George.

Look, Mommy! Lexi pointed in awe at all of the dragons and faeries and stories full of whimsy surrounding us, her rosebud lips forming a delicate ‘o’ as tiny features filled up with that concentrated wonder of: omg, so many books! A wee imagination that was unfolding into new and different worlds of exploration and magical adventures.

My itty-bitty bookworm.

A library is where books live and it’s impossible not to feel tranquil in that quiet atmosphere. I love circling through all of the stacks and slowly thumbing through the different volumes before delving into a certain section. As silly as it sounds, somehow it makes me feel more illuminated. More relaxed. As if somehow the books are transferring their deepest secrets to me.

Does that sound insane?

…perhaps not, but books can be that perfect companion.

Have you recently visited a local library or bookstore?

~¤~¤~

If you haven’t had an opportunity to do so, here is a list of reading material to sustain you through the weekend. So grab a coffee and relax with some of these epic reads from the personal finance blogosphere:

The First Million is the Hardest – The 99 Best Personal Finance Posts of 2012

Femme Frugality – For the Love of a Turtle

Brick by Brick Investing – Slow is Smooth & Smooth is Fast

My Money Design – Welcome Back to Work – Did You Notice Your Paycheck is Lower?

Tackling Our Debt – Blog Planner – Grab Your Free Digital Copy

LBee and the Money Tree – Financial Realities: Living with Endometriosis

Mo’ Money Mo’ Houses – Bye Bye Rainy Vancouver, Hello Sunny Thailand!

Frugal Rules – Even More Blogging Tips From a Beginner

Edward Antrobus – December 2012 Net Worth Update

When Life Gives You Lemons…Add Vodka – Beat Those Winter Blues

Monster Piggy Bank – Using Coupons to Save Money

Reach Financial Independence – 13 Money Resolutions for 2013: #6 Crush Your Debt!

Young Adult Money – Save Money: 5 Sources of Free Entertainment

The Money Principle – About New Year’s Resolutions, Saving and Wasting

Modest Money – Not Paying For Someone Else’s Mistakes

Debt RoundUp – Should You Consolidate Credit Card Debt?

Work Save Live – Rock That Debt – Reader’s Budget Analysis

Canadian Budget Binder – Get Out of Debt First, Then Focus on Saving

Club Thrifty – My Escape from Hotel Hell

Master the Art of Saving – Saving Up Money To Pay Cash For A Car

Digital Personal Finance – How Frequently Should You Check Your Investments?

Happy reading!

=^..^=

1. I am not your chew toy to gnaw on to test-drive pointy little incisors.
2. Nor is my nipple.
3. I am not The Keeper of your stuffed animals. There will be a new rule: if YOU chuck Mr. Blobby into the toilet, YOUR FATHER will fish out the toy.
4. Speaking of whom, I am not here to be meddlesome and cast a disapproving eye on all of your rowdy skirmishes with Papa. Heckle him back.
5. I am not inclined to lock into a dubious battle with you over meals by trying to jam stuff down your gullet.
6. As your mommy, I am not a dumping ground for unsolicited advice from others. Therefore I am not going to allow quibblers, with their endless heaping of opinions/criticism, to undercut my natural parental instinct. Although I will consult our pediatrician or peers I respect, my intuition is still the best handbook on the market.
7. I am not obligated to endure your spits of tantrum or to engage in wrestling matches with you over attire, and I have no qualms about shipping you off to the funny farm. (Psyche!)
8. I am not your best friend and sometimes things I do or say are really going to piss you off.
9. I am not going to be amused and sweet when you wiggle into bed at four in the morning and slap me in the face. (And then incidentally snuggle right back to sleep, you little punk.) You need to learn to respect my sleep and to be kinder to old people, especially this crotchety bat.
10. Despite my best efforts I am not a perfect mommy. This is what you’re stuck with, I’m afraid.

Anyhoodle, I love you.
hugs, me.

=^..^=

Time seems to evaporate sometimes in our little apartment. Even with trembling barren branches scraping across the bedroom window and the onset of dark gray skies, time is standing still.

I love jamming chilly toes into my pale gray slippers or wool socks in the morning. Sipping on Egyptian licorice tea, which has a subtle warming sweetness without being cloying. Gazing at Lexi as she naps so contently against my chest, all flopsy and delicious and warm. I am enjoying these winter-ish mornings, as a crisp dappling glow creeps through the room to lap at the threads of our mahogany couch. Quiet moments that stir my soul and allow me to scamper through the meadows of my imagination.

My butter bean loves to chatter now, although I can’t understand more than a word or two of her gibberish. It is her own secret language to know and if I’m lucky, she will allow me an occasional glimpse inside her magical little world. I am so humbled by her and my days feel so, so full.

When she smiles, my world explodes. Full of wonder. My sweet girl.

Why, don’t I look dapper this a.m.?

And now it is time for some link crushin’. Enjoy some of these epic reads from the personal finance blogosphere to cozy up to:

The Free Financial Advisor – Can’t Save? Write It Out, Bitches!

Pelican on Money – 10 Habits of People Who Are Well Off

Master the Art of Saving – Getting the Most From Your Life Altering Moments

Mo’ Money Mo’ Houses – Taking Personal Finance Blogs with a Grain of Salt

Making Sense of Cents – Identity Theft (Someone bought a house in my name)

Femme Frugality – Upcycle Scarves into Hats

Frugal Rules – How do Credit Cards Make Money? I Found Out the Hard Way

Plunged in Debt – Curb Watching and Ways to Get Free Stuff

Canadian Budget Binder – Budgeting With Mr.CBB Got Us Back On Track!

Reach Financial Independence – Being Outside of Average

Modest Money – It’s Your Blogging Journey, You Make The Rules

Club Thrifty – Toys ‘R Us Corporate Policy: Stealing?!?

Broke-Ass Mommy was featured in carnivals this week:

• Carnival of Retirement at Finance Product Reviews
• Y and T’s Weekend Ramblings at Young and Thrifty
• Carnival of MoneyPros at Vanessa’s Money
• Yakezie Carnival at My Family Finances

I have been receiving a steady increase of organic traffic through Google search terms and here were some of the highlights this week.

And now, some gratuitous searches that may have led you here:

“a broke ass first time” … I certainly empathize, my friend. My wallet is empty too.

“scrooge mcduck investing” … yeesss!

“funny rat with hair” … i found a funny rat with fuzzy white patches when I opened the foyer door to our apartment building. You may claim her from beneath my porch stoops. Answers to the name Miss Squiggy.

“wiped out financial” … Another sympathetic nod. It’s le suckage, I know. Time to start rubbing together those pennies. You’ll probably be fine with discipline. And copious amounts of booze.

(I kid.)

Have a great weekend dudes. Unburden thyself!

=^..^=

Hmm, it’s Halloween. What shall I do?

I have an idea!

I look eerie and spooky- ookie. Now lets see what I need for gathering loot.

Dang, this may be a bit unwieldy.

…a short time later…

Look at the spoils I have harvested. Muahaha. Well done, me.

Happy Halloween! love, Lexi xx

=^..^=

I felt like shit and there was Lexi, peeking at me. Grinning and talking her gibberish.

Feebly I tried to coax her to lay down and snuggle into my tartan blanket, but all I managed to do was persuade her to erupt into giggles and blow raspberries against the tip of my nose.

Play time, Mommy.

My groggy mind groaned as I considered options.

If I quickly chucked her into the hallway and hid beneath the blanket, for example, would she notice the quivering mound on the bed? I could glue the door shut?

Not that I would close the door on my fifteen-month-old and lock her out to fend for herself just so I could accomplish peaceful sleep. Because that would be wrong. And our bedroom door lacks any type of locking device. Obviously someone wasn’t thinking.

Anyway.

That is how I ended up ghoul-ified on the floor at the crack of dawn beneath the bonsai plant, sitting cross-legged with my reindeer mug among the company of a stuffed fuzzy caterpillar and a lint-covered owl, while Lexi repeatedly thumped a peeling copy of BOW-WOW! PEEP! against my kneecap.

Halfway through our reading, Lexi began to sneeze. She rubbed her nose and sighed miserably. Then stared at me: Waaaaaaahhhhh!

Heeding my cue, I gathered Lexi into my arms to rock her soothingly. She nuzzled into my neck and gazed at me like I was the only face she wanted to see before the sun came up. We smiled at each other and my exhaustion ebbed away.

I knew there was a reason I suffered through a gestational period with this one. Just don’t expect too much productivity from this drowsy gal goul today.

Pardon me while I shuffle off to fetch another tissue.

=^..^=

Related posts:

• A-Weebie-Jeebies
• Daily Blather (with some kitty intestinal sauce)
• Gooshie-pie
• My Sweet Butter Sunshine
• An ‘I’m Frazzled’ Friday

Lexi, among the carnage.

Brutal truth: My kid is much more efficient than I am.

=^..^=

P.S. Between typing and editing this, Lexi started to rouse and I tiptoed away, straight into a pool of cat vomit. This cat has been puking for three days straight. What is wrong with my kitteh?? ; (

P.P.S. Okay, baby now up. Must go. (it’s two in the morning, ffs…)

Soo, since Lexi and I are car-less today, I embraced the opportunity to clean a bit. Because someone has to do it.

So we’ve:

* swished through each room, vacuuming and sweeping (as Lexi hooted and scootched after the vacuum)
* hand-washed, dried and carefully put away all the dishes
* scrubbed the cat box, with me carefully removing soiled litter and Lexi prancing after the unfortunate cat, gnawing on its tail
* polished counter tops and tables

(I turned for a millisecond and observed in horror as chubby, dimpled ankles poked from the garbage can.)

Immediately I prepped an extra sudsy bath and Lexi splashed in the luxurious silken bubbles as I vigorously scrubbed at rosy folds until everything felt sanitized again. As soon as I reached for a towel, she giggled and plopped her rubber ducky into the toilet.

I fished her toy out of the toilet.

Finally with bath time over, she settled into my lap for some reading, which went something like this:

Kit-ty? kit-ty. kit-ty. KIT-TY.

“Yes, Lexi, that is our cat.” I bobbed my head enthusiastically.

KIT-TY!

I gestured at various objects speckled across the sturdy cardboard pages of our story. You’re supposed to point things out to kids, right? They like that kind of stuff.

“Oooh, see Lexi, there’s a pretty red balloon! and a table…” KIT-TY “…and a bowl full of mush…” KIT-TY! “…see the old woman…” KIT-TY! “Lexi, see her rocking in the chair?”

Lexi ripped the book from my hand and it ricocheted off the hardwood floor. She grabbed another story, opened the pages midway through and scrunched her face: KIT-TY!

“No, baby, what you’re pointing at, is a walrus.”

KIT-TY! She turned the page. KIT-TY!!!

“That’s Mickey Mouse. A mouse!” I corrected brightly.

Big mistake. She wrinkled her nose and waited.

“A mouse, honey. And see, this is his doggy, Pluto.”

Her eyes narrowed, lower lip quivering. I was treading on thin ice. My shoulders slumped and I slowly turned the page, revealing a black and white cat swiping at a ball of yarn on Mickey’s rug.

“Oh, here you go, baby. A kitty. See? A cat. Kitty.”

Lexi glared as if I was the worst creature who ever lived. I stared back at her but all ready she sensed my uncertainty, my fear, and like any vigilant shark pup smelled blood. Too late—this infant train had careened from the station and choo-chooed its way straight into Becoming Derailed-ville.

“Lexi? It’s…see that, here. It’s a kitty.” I lamely tried to repent.

Gooshie-pie! Fat tears spasmed down her cheeks and she swiped at the offending page.

“Gooshie pie?”

Goooooshie-pie, she wailed and crawled away, disgusted and seriously pissed.

Right, gooshie-pie.

So: that was my morning. How was yours?

=^..^=

Alexis Skye

All of my friends tip-toe around the subject of personal finance. They find it a wee uncomfortable and pretty snooz-y, and yet I can spend hours devouring material and crunching numbers in my head. My favorite part about receiving a regular paycheck was the anticipation of squirreling some away — what percentage should I contribute to my savings this week? 15%? 35%?

I loved nurturing and observing my flimsy savings as it bulked up and blossomed.

Now, i feel a bit lost.

It has been an unfamiliar adjustment for me to abandon a consistent paycheck, in order to remain at home with Lexi.  She has been my whole world for a year now.

But on days when I’m frustrated and doubting myself, or trying to slog through yet another afternoon, and can feel the ‘stay-at-home’ mommy blues creeping on, Lexi will wriggle over to hoist herself into my lap and peek up at me with, you know, that look in her eyes; a twinkle, a glittering spark, which makes my heart go all ache-y.

That pure, unfettered joy. Gazing straight at me.

And by ache-y, I mean, like, trillions of butterflies smashing/crackling, like smeared speckled cherries, all over on the windshield of my soul, trailing rainbow-colored guts.

Like that.

Man, I want to sell that down at the 7-Eleven and pound it like a slurpee, her pure, unfettered joy. And as her tiny body quivers, it oozes from her pores like sweet sugar sunshine’s banana pudding. And her fingers, like tiny chubby mushrooms, grapple at my hair, jam into a nostril, jab at an eyeball — it’s that sensation of being cloaked in absolute sweet unspitefulness.

Perfection.

And then everything feels surreal and I wouldn’t change a damn thing, not ever.

Because in those blissful and quiet moments of clarity, I’m precisely where I belong. Curled up in bed with my sweet butter bean.

=^..^=

Our Anticipated Budget For Our Road Trip: $960.00

Starting Mileage: 37,224
Ending Mileage: 38,300

Total Distance Traveled: 1,076 miles

Day 1 -
Saturday, July 21, 2012.

The first day consisted mainly of driving for over ten hours and then staking a claim to our land upon arrival, followed by camp set-up.

Lexi and I in our humble dwelling for the week

Final Cost :  $49.32 gas / $2.65 large coffee / $16.65 tolls / $128.00 Cape Ann camping, four days = $196.57

Day 2 -
Sunday, July 22, 2012.

We drove to Good Harbor beach during the morning, and then visited Wingaersheek Beach for some evening clamming during low tide. Lexi was delighted to watch Papa sift through and dig wayyy down into the sand with his bare hands, to harvest some fresh Atlantic clams.

Final Cost: $6.99 brandy / $33.43 groceries / $7.00 ice & tent stakes = $47.42

Day 3 -
Monday, July 23, 2012.

We explored the Cape Ann and Ipswich area further, and browsed some antique shops in Essex. For dinner, we stopped by the docks and bought four live lobsters straight off the boat, and brought the wriggling, thrashing beasts back to camp for a scrumptious lobster feast over our campfire.

Our campfire lobster feast.

Lexi has the claws duke it out.

Final Cost: $20 four fresh lobster, straight off the boat / $47.50 beer, ice, lemon & asparagus, salad, and other groceries = $67.50

Day 4 -
Tuesday, July 24, 2012. Lexi’s first birthday!

It was my butter bean’s first birthday and we spent the afternoon swishing through the streets of Salem and visiting the haunting, eerie sites from the witch trial hysteria of 1692.
(I was less than bewitched, however, to discover a Salem parking ticket tacked to the windshield.)

Salem, Massachusetts

Then it was off to the Cape Ann harbor for a festive dinner at the Gloucester House. I ordered some steamers and succulent seafood ravioli, and M. and I polished the birthday celebration off with a slice of triple-layer chocolate cake, with one unlit peppermint candle plopped among the buttery ripples.

We sang happy birthday to Lexi (who was absolutely tickled to be up past her bedtime) and, while she was absorbed with cooing and waving at the waitresses, Mommy slyly wolfed down the delectable chocolate treat.

Happy first birthday, Lexi!

Final Cost: $64 camp reservations, two more nights / $2 ice / $44.21 gas / $16 Salem Dungeon entrance fee / $12 Salem Witch Museum entrance fee / $22 Urban Oasis for lunch / $15 parking ticket in Salem / $100.00 dinner at the Gloucester House in Cape Ann = $275.21

Day 5 -
Wednesday, July 25, 2012.

Wednesday morning was gorgeous so we returned to Wingaersheek Beach during low-tide so Lexi could wade into the water and scout for sea shells and sand dollars. My precious girl was soo captivated by the beach and got a kick out of observing other children splashing around and playing in the ocean.

Spotted: clams, crabs, loads of fish, and sand dollars.

Wingaersheek Beach

Final Cost: $18.00 ice, water, propane & other groceries / $10.00 Wingaersheek beach parking pass / $11.81 beer / $4.00 ice & a Snickers ice cream bar / $20.00 groceries = $63.81

Day 6-
Thursday, July 26, 2012.

Stick figure built to ward against any lingering bad mojo from Salem. Seconds later, Lexi decapitated the poor chap.

The Cape Ann weather forecast was ominously warning about possible severe storms and hail, so we decided to break camp a day early and head to Boston before returning home.

We had a comical incident where I was gnawed on by a tick and consequently burned, and then it was off to the Boston Aquarium for the morning. We left Boston right before rush-hour traffic started to jam up the highways, and were homeward-bound by 3 p.m.

Final Cost: $35.00 Boston parking garage / $45.90 Boston Aquarium Admission / $35.46 gas / $3.80 Boston toll / $4.00 Massachusetts Pike toll / $40.54 lunch @ Applebee’s / $5 two coffees / $11.95 toll =   $181.65

In conclusion:
The original pre-planned budget was roughly $960.00.

Unexpected Expenses: $15.00 Parking ticket in Salem, Massachusetts

Cape Ann & Boston, Final Vacation Cost: $832.16

Now that our vacation is over, it’s back to the writing hole, so expect regular updates once again.

=^..^=

Ok, now a confession.

My productivity this week has been horrendous.

My daughter Lexi has just started with separation anxiety. Meaning, every time I leave her line of sight for more than a moment, an explosive barrage of tears and snot ensues, which unfolds something like this:

“Yes, baby, we can do another round of Itsy Bitsy Spider. We’ve done it five times now, but, hey, you seem to dig it. Ok, ready?”

(A giggle, hands clap in delight; I’m offered a cherubic smile, with some blubbering and drool.)

So far, so good.

“Uh oh, baby. Mommy’s got to sneak away to the bathroom real quick first. Here, let’s put you in your play yard for a moment, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Lexi realizes I’m tip toeing away from her toward the door: cue the outrageous, piercing howls.

(thump thump thump thump) — jumping up and down in the play yard, violently rattling the side — Mehmeh! Mehmeh! MEHH MEHHH!! MEHMEHMEHMEHMEHMEEEEEEH!!!

(‘Mehmeh’ is me, I’ve come to realize.)

My delicate, angelic baby transitions into a frenzied, hysterical devil, complete with beastly head spins and wailing until she barfs.

Due to this current phase of clinginess, it’s difficult to focus on and finish tasks throughout the day. Or eat.

Or sleep.

Oh god, I’m so hungry.

So what does one do all day with a baby velcroed to one’s leg, constantly demanding attention?

My pint-sized shadow and I just returned from a mailbox stroll — it took some persuasion to pry my envelope from chubby, snot-filled fists, but I did manage to slip the letter (mostly) unscathed into the slot … just a tad soggy, with a teeny nibble in the right corner.

As I type this, she’s bouncing on my lap, engaged in jolly chitter-chatter, while manipulating open the desk drawer and vigorously chucking everything from said drawer onto the hardwood floor.

What a hoot, there goes the stapler.

I’m exhausted. And so, so in love. Oh god, so tired…

And did she just poo all over my lap???

Satan, herself.

=^..^=