Becoming Mom

I didn’t realize how quickly a girl becomes her mother after she moves into her own place with her future husband.

Most of my actions are the result of having very limited funds, which my mother also had growing up. My parents were so money conscious that they are now able to help their children out when it matters, i.e. paying for the moving truck down to North Carolina.

For me, I’m living on one income and a quickly diminishing savings account.

I couldn't stand my mom's anger toward rotten roast beef until I had to start paying for it, and everything else, myself.

I find myself staring angrily at the light by my front door. For some reason it’s always on. It never was that way, but now it is and I can’t figure out how to turn it off. The switch by the door that I thought controls it no longer does. I stare at it angrily because I know that’s electricity I’m paying for. Not to mention a small blemish on the environment.

The lights that I can turn off, I do when I leave the room. Once again, more so because that’s another few notches on the electric bill than giving Mother Earth another swift kick. If I had a dollar for every time my mother harped on my habit of leaving the fan in my room on after I left for the day, I’d have enough to buy a beach house. Now, I spend a lot of time in the dark.

I also find myself silently, or not so silently, repeating slight variations of phrases  my mother uttered to me.

“Well, no one is eating the roast beef so I didn’t buy it.”

“The screens for the porch were how much?!”

“I bought you bananas. Please eat them before they go bad.”

“You still didn’t eat the bananas.”

I tried to save some money and bought my cold cuts at Walmart this week. I was saving about $3 a pound so it was worth a shot. My first sandwich proved that sometimes you get what you pay for. I decided that next time I’ll buy all the rest of my groceries at Walmart, but I’ll pay the extra money for Boars Head. Of course, I spent the money so I’m going to continue eating these terrible deli meats, right?

After one more half eaten sandwich, I went home and threw the ham (which was suppose to be Virginia, but the guy behind the counter gave me something else and charged me for Virginia. A rant that I’ll save for another blog) and the poor excuse for cracked pepper turkey in the trash. It just wasn’t worth it. Either way, it was going to end up in the garbage.

While my mother’s constant nagging about spoiled roast beef often annoying the ever living life out of me, I understand now why she was so angry. That was $10 I just threw in the garbage.

My parents were being frugal because they knew it would help them when they needed it. I’m reaping the benefits of that fiscal responsibility, something that I will be forever grateful for.

I’m being frugal because we can’t afford to live any other way. Either way, when the cash needs to go someplace important, the last place it should be going is the garbage.

Success

Well, we did it.

Last week Chuck and I moved into our first place. It was a success and a debacle in so many ways. Despite having enough stuff to furnish this entire apartment, the phsyical move wasn’t that bad. It was a lot of stuff but the dresser, couches and piano were the hardest and heaviest thing to move.

Somehow, I got out of moving the dresser and the couches. I’m assuming it’s because I’m out of shape.

Getting used couches from our friends saved us a whole buttload of money. Plus, it doesn't matter when the cats destroy them.

The apartment is coming together quite nicely.  The couches are in place as is my dining set and bedroom set. We had finally gotten rid of most of the garbage until I started opening up boxes of  cookware and now we’re back to messy. With a free weekend ahead of us, hopefully we can get everything where it needs to be.

Unlike some of my friends, Chuck and I had enough stuff to furnish this entire apartment. Between friends and family, we accumulated a good portion of everything we would need to get this place together. Right now, the only new thing we own is the bedroom set and that’s only because my mom wanted to keep the set I had at home.

Much of the kitchen could have previously been found in my Nana’s Glendale apartment. Her dining room table and chairs are now in my dining “room” and her dishes , cookware, glasses and flatware are in the cabinets and drawers. Her end tables and lamps now furnish my living room.

Also in the living room are the couches from my friend Tommy and Lisa who were going to put them on the curb about two years ago. They sat in my garage until now. Tommy’s cat tore them up pretty badly prior to getting declawed, but considering I have my own cat that likes to use the couch as his personal scratching post, I don’t feel too bad about it. For as old as they are, they sure are comfy.

Sabrina and Pete gave us a set of pots and pans that were left behind from some previous roommates. I thought they were gently used. Turned out the box was still closed. Randomly, I’ll find something that my parents decided they could do without and ended up here in Raleigh, like a couple of pasta bowls. The rest is ours from Chuck previous apartment or my days in college.

Our apartment, and this stuff inside, my not be new, sparkly and clean, but it’s ours.

Almost Official Residents

Last week we were finally approved for an apartment. We move in on Saturday and not a moment too soon. This hotel is getting expensive and becoming increasingly too small. There is no luxury of having someone clean up after you because the one time we let housekeeping through here, making the bed was all there was evidence of.

Our soon-to-be home.

The bathroom wasn’t cleaned and neither were the dishes. It’s questionable if they even vacuumed. Now, we’re adults and we have been keeping the room clean, including doing a load of dishes every day. We’re just annoyed that whoever was assigned to our room didn’t do their job.

We also signed up for a PO Box so we had a mailing address things could be sent to. For $22 for six months, it was worth having a secure location to send our packages. Not that we’re expecting anything too valuable to come through the mail, but I don’t trust having things locked in an office.

We’re getting to know Northwest Raleigh fairly well. There isn’t too much to know around here since everything is on or off of two  major roads, but it’s nice to have an idea of where things are. Eventually we’ll start exploring the other parts of town.

Things are starting to come together, but there’s still a lot that needs to happen before I can sleep soundly at night. Every time Chuck feels sick I go into panic mode and wish we never moved. He won’t be able to apply for insurance until he gets his hands on his social security card, which is back home.

He’s still unemployed (he’s been here two weeks so I’m not about to start riding him about it), but we have until the end of August before things start getting really tight. Hopefully, he’ll be able to find something by the end of the summer.

This move is costing us financially and emotionally. I just hope we made the right decision.