The $50 Grocery Budget Challenge

Years ago, when we first arrived to Florida for Ben to start flight training we were quite short on money. Our only income was my $9 per hour 35 hours per week job as a customer service rep at the airport where Ben flew. During that time I used to say the dollar menu at McDonald's was a major financial decision. In many respects it was.

Endeavoring to live within our means, we set a $50 per week limit for groceries. By groceries I mean toiletries, cleaning supplies, food, everything. My work schedule was such that I had 3 days off each week. I'd spend one day planning out my purchases and the next day cooking and freezing meals. I admit there were many times I'd go to the grocery store and lust strawberries or any other luxury items we simply couldn't afford. There was just no way I could spend 10% of the week's grocery money on a box of berries, no matter how mouth watering.

In recent years I haven't given any thought to my grocery bill. Advancing through the company to a manager position and Ben gaining employment meant we had more than enough to live on. I'd buy whatever I fancied and didn't worry about coupons, sales, or whether I could afford organic.

As we arrived this week to our new home for bible college, unemployed and living on the generosity of others, we've reassessed the areas we spend. Groceries is one of my easiest places to go over board so we've established a $50 per week grocery budget challenge. Don't worry, I won't resort to feeding my family rice and beans (unless of course it's Huevos Rancheros which we gobbled up for dinner tonight! Spanish eggs, rice, black beans, and salsa. Yum!).

Part of the budget challenge is to make sure I am still serving healthy, well balanced meals. Of course if I need to spend more than $50 to feed my family then I do it. And it'll be ok to splurge for strawberries should one of us really want them! The idea is to purchase what we need/will consume each week. We want to avoid impulse purchases and buying that extra box of elbow noodles because it's nice to have on hand and I can't remember if I have one at home already....you get the idea.

Yes, it takes work to successfully plan a $50 week. I am grateful for our earlier years when I learned to plan, shop, and cook on such a budget by absolute necessity. And this week? I've purchased the fixings for 5 dinners and all we need for lunches and breakfast. Total bill so far is  $43.16. What's on the menu? Tuna melts and tomato soup, cheesy pasta with carrots and green beans, loaded baked potatoes, Huevos Rancheros, and Gypsy toast with British style baked beans. I need two more meals for under $7. I'm thinking chicken curry and chili with corn bread. The challenge is on!  

Blankies and Bible School

In the rush to either give away, ship, or stuff into our car every single belonging we have, I really didn't care what happened to our blankets. "Just throw them away" I told my husband. Although soft and comforting, the blankets we'd used each night for the last who knows how many years, were quite worn. With a few holes and dingy spots they certainly didn't belong in the giveaway pile.

I went back to cleaning and sorting, not caring what would become of the blankets. In the last two weeks I had left a job that I loved after 8 years, went on a week long church mission trip, and came home to a manic week of sorting out our life before we would leave for bible college and ultimately for Indonesia. At the point we were discussing blankets, I was too preoccupied with the mountainous task ahead of us to care.

With the help of many volunteers we were able to accomplish everything necessary and vacated our apartment on time. As we packed up the final items into the car my husband Ben stuffed the blankets in the window area behind the back seats. Shaking my head I opted not to say anything. Obviously blankets were more important to him than to me.

We had decided to take a week to drive from Florida to the bible school in New York, planning to stop for a couple days in DC on the way. We always talked about seeing the capital and this seemed like the last chance to do so, at least for a long while.

Arriving at our new apartment I was quite pleased to see that the unit was larger than I anticipated. Nicely, but not overly, furnished I was excited to start this new chapter in our lives. That evening, tired from driving and unpacking, I climbed into my new bed and pulled up the comforter. "My love" I said, "I want my blankets." He pulled our soft, worn blankets onto the bed and I fell into an easy sleep.

Of all the belonging I brought, my blankets turned out to be the most comforting. Strange how such a little thing can mean so much when in the midst of change.

Sad, but oh so blessed!

I was nervous the first time I stepped foot inside the children's home. Would they like me? What would they be like? Could I make a difference in the lives here? Today, more than a year and a half later, I walked out of the children's home with a grieving heart after saying good bye to teenagers and staff I've come to know and love.

Although fearing rejection from these "hardened teens", my experience at the home turned out to be the complete opposite. Welcomed with open arms, I now know the truth - They made the difference in my life. I am the one who was blessed!

It was at the children's home that I experienced first hand the volatility of everyday life for these teenagers. I walked in on a boy self-harming, cutting his hands open and smearing blood over his arms. I witnessed police handcuff and take away a girl after violent attack on another teen. I listened as kids recounted the most horrific stories of abuse and neglect. I worried and prayed for runaways.

But love is stronger than tragedy. And love pulled me back each week.

It was at the children's home that I saw teens who had everything taken away from them share the last can of soda. Kindness in the most unexpected places. The boy who could make me laugh like nobody's business. The girl who stopped to help a stranger clean her yard. The boy who would bleep out expletives when he rapped for me the "church lady". The teens who would meet me at the car and carry my bags for me, eagerly asking "What are we doing tonight, Miss Anisha?"

I cried on the way home tonight. Sad to go, but thanking God for the privilege of loving and being loved. I am truly blessed.

"Your mercy flows like a river wide,
And healing comes from Your hand.
Suffering children are safe in Your arms,
There is none like You."
There is None Like You - Hillsong

Free to be Isaiah

I recently read a blog post on themotherhuddle.com about raising a high energy child. Reading through the writer's story was like reading about my own wild son. I laughed to myself as the mommy writer wondered if her son's high energy was due to coffee during pregnancy, too much tv when he was young, or early signs of ADHD.

I laughed because I have wondered in the past if Isaiah's high energy could be attributed to the disruption caused by adoption, or my own inexperience, or something inherited from his birth mom. Here we were, both facing a child that has more energy than we knew what to do with, both caught up in "what ifs".

The truth is, I now neither know nor care why Isaiah is the way he is. Like the motherhuddle mommy, I also have come to see Isaiah's zest for life as an admirable quality, no matter how tiring it can be for me.

We've had to be creative, inventing rules that give Isaiah the freedom to explore, but also keep me from jumping out of my skin with worry. "You can climb it, but you have to get down yourself" has put a stop to my yelling "No! Get down!" accross the playground. Similarly, "You can take the scooter on the skate park ramps if you wear a helmet" will hopefully save us from a scary head injury trip to the emergency room.

By far the most beneficial and challenging rule is one that I have for myself. If Isaiah falls down, I don't go to him unless he first cries. That sounds easy, but when you think about applying this rule to watching your toddler fall off his scooter at high speed on a concrete skate park, suddenly it isn't so easy keep those mothering instincts in check.

Maybe it sounds uncaring or somewhat heartless (it can sure feel that way), but by my not making a fuss Isaiah has the freedom to decide for himself if he is hurt. And most of the time, scrapped knee and all, he just decides to get back up and keep going. It's only my heart that is left shaken and in need of a cuddle.

So here's to brave, energetic, adventure loving children. Shaken heart and all, I'm so glad to have one. And if you haven't read themotherhuddle blog, here it is: http://www.themotherhuddle.com/raising-a-high-energy-child/ Enjoy!

                                                       

A Call to Mothers: Seeing the Hurt on Mother's Day

Greeters stood at the doors welcoming, hugging, and handing out carnation flowers to all the mothers. I tried to time my entrance, waiting until all the greeters were busy with other people so that I could slip past unnoticed, but sneaking into church is not so easy. More than anything on this Sunday, Mother's Day Sunday, I just wanted to be invisible.

photo courtesy fanpop.com

One lady saw me and handed me a flower. "But I'm not a mother", I said. "It's for the future" she replied with a warm smile. I took the flower, smiled in return and went in to find a seat. Hiding the flower under my bible I fought hard to resist the increasing urge to rip it to shreds.

The music started and that menacing flower opened up all kinds of hurt. The deep grief of miscarriage and the sickening pain of infertility. I couldn't take it any longer. Struggling to maintain composure I ran out of the church and down the street. Finding an isolated parking lot I sat down on the dirty cement, pulled my knees to my chest, and wept.

Amazing how much can change in only one year. This Sunday when I walk through those same church doors I'll do so holding my son's hand. But I won't do it naively.

Many men and women will come to church this Sunday and instead of finding a place of comfort and healing, will endure wounds opened all over again. Will we see their hurt? Or will we be caught up in flowers, cards, and celebrating ourselves?

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”- Jesus (John 13:24-35)