Where We Stand

Some of you may have been wondering just where we are in our journey as a family. The past year has been difficult, but we've begun to make some serious choices about the direction of our family and there has been some progress.

1. Christian has a job at a motorcycle dealership as a technician with high probability of advancement. He's realized he wants to manage a team of people or have his own business. The former may be a stepping stone to the latter.
2. I came up with a variety of ideas and tried several, with mixed success. In the end, the thing that seems to work best for me is to blog and write/publish books. I'm going to continue to do that and I think quantity will help me attract consistent readership (though I'm not sure what the quantity needs to be).
3. We're currently staying with my parents, but that has a shelf life (not imposed, but implied). I think the person happiest about this situation is my dad. Maybe Kiddo.
4. Being close to family has been a real blessing as to building bonds between Kiddo and everyone. It's also allowed me to have a little more freedom than I would otherwise.
5. We're making some payments towards our student loans, but they won't be paid down as much as we'd like by the time we really need to get out of my parents' place (if we just have Christian's income). 

This brings us to our series of realizations or admissions:

1. If we were to rely on one income at the present level, we won't be able to do even a quarter of the things we want to do in life (including have another kid).
2. We want to get out of my parents' house and have some time to build ourselves as our own separate family unit. The easiest way to do that and have our work continue to benefit us is to build a tiny house. That said, we will need to barter, have sponsorship, and material donations in order to make that happen.
3. We have to figure out some additional and consistent sources of income (videos? classes? more ebooks? online stores? consulting?).
4. We're creative people and we thrive when we have consistent outlets for our creativity.
5. In the long run, we're not going to be able to stay in Santa Barbara county (and I really don't want to, despite family) which means we need to decide where we're going and start working towards making that happen (jobs, businesses, etc).

The question now is, what do we do? Where do we go? Have an idea? Leave it in the comments below!

Fire, A Move, and The 7 Week Old

The last few days were crazy. I moved from the Bay with a 7 week old baby back to my parents' house.

On Friday both sets of parents arrived to help us box up our tiny Jingletown loft apartment and load it between a trailer, pick-up, UHaul, and compact. Much of our possessions ended up in boxes in any order - so we'll be experiencing Christmas every day!

What made it even crazier was on Sunday morning we were woken by our fire alarm at 6:50 AM. Confused and concerned, Christian got dressed and went outside to confirm there was a fire in our building and it wasn't just a malfunction of our apartment's alarm. In just a few moments he returned and was picking up things.

Christian: There's a fire in an apartment inside the gate.
Me: Do I have time to pee?
Christian: yeah, but hurry.

I can't believe this was my concern, but it was. I figured once I got the baby out I wouldn't have access to a toilet for hours. Of course, I was thinking of the worst case scenario...

As it was, I got kiddo out and made a beeline to the car where I nursed him. I was so thankful we breastfeed. Trying to get a bottle of formula ready in that situation would have been difficult if not impossible. Kiddo had no idea anything was amiss. He was wrapped in a warm blanket and quite content to nurse as usual.

We sat there in the cold car watching as the firetrucks arrived and the firemen went about their business. Even though adrenaline was pumping through many that morning, the firemen themselves were quite calm. It was sort of reassuring to see the easy purpose that drove their actions. Meanwhile Christian grabbed the few remaining items from our apartment and put them in the trunk. The only thing left was our mattress, which he couldn't possibly carry himself.

About an hour later, the firetrucks left and we were able to return to our loft. A minute later my in-laws arrived with breakfast, and we loaded the mattress. Before we took off Christian checked the apartment that had been on fire. Based on the burnt power strip and debris outside the crispy place, Christian was pretty sure it was an electrical fire. I was just thankful it hadn't spread to the rest of the building (though I had the reassurance that our things were basically all out of our apartment anyway).

Once everything was loaded up, my mother-in-law and I took the car with kiddo, while my father-in-law towed the trailer and Christian drove the UHaul. We were a caravan of varying speeds.

The ride was pleasant, with kiddo quiet when awake, but asleep much of the time. We only stopped twice - once to change and nurse him and a second time for lunch (and of course change and nurse kiddo). At about 3 PM we arrived and everyone started unloading what would be used (leaving the rest in the trailer for storage) while I nursed kiddo.

By the end of the day I was incredibly exhausted...and still couldn't sleep. I'm still sort of in shock from everything, but such is life. I hoping this is will truly be a new beginning for us, but we'll just have to wait and see. Life is unexpected...especially for us.

Four Week Movement

Well I survived my first week at home alone with a newborn. Yay! I'm not a complete maternal failure (just kidding - I never thought that)! Now kiddo is 4 weeks old and it seems his systems have started to show a daily rhythm (or at least, I have discovered one). I'm still trying to figure out a routine for everything (not a schedule but a routine). Then again, kiddo changes so much from one week to the next (one minute to the next, more like!) that I really can only wait for a routine to be revealed and hope it lasts for longer than a day.

Who knew motherhood required you to be like Sherlock Holmes? It was a complete surprise to me!

And so while we do this, me trying to solve the puzzle of my son and him innocently teaching me, our family came to another important conclusion.

We're moving.

The money isn't here. The numbers were crunched and it's a go. We turned in our notice to our landlord. I talked to my parents and they've started getting a room ready for us.

A room.

It's a little depressing to go from some measure of independence to absolute dependence again. I'm discovering how to be a parent while my parents are once again coming to my rescue (I should also mention my in-laws volunteered to do the same thing, but our cat was the real kicker - the in-laws' place is not indoor cat friendly.). It's a humbling experience. This whole summer has been a humbling experience.

More than ever I want to have my own situation - pull myself up by my bootstraps so to speak (I mean, I'm American. We do that sort of thing.). And more than ever I'm incapable of being independent. Admittedly, parts of this are okay. I like the idea of family being around to help out with kiddo. Help with a young baby is a real luxury that most people don't have.

Also, I'm excited about being near the ocean, being able to do music with my dad, and feeling comfortable enough to walk around by myself (not something I feel comfortable doing in most places in Oakland). I like the idea of not worrying my things will be stolen from my front stoop (We've had something stolen from us at least 6 times in the 1.5 yrs we've lived in our Jingletown loft.).

Can you tell I'm over Oakland?

I mean, it's clearly time to move. No question. And hopefully new opportunities will abound in this change. At least it will give us the security we need in order to explore options without having to worry about where we'll sleep or what we'll eat. And maybe that's the intention.

In the mean time, I'm going to enjoy learning more about kiddo. I'm not going to worry too much about things. I'm going to keep my mind open to possibilities.

Oh, and I'll pray. Definitely that.

Pregnancy: Bringing Out the Best and Worst in People

There's nothing like pregnancy to bring out the best in people. You will see people open doors, let you go ahead in bathroom lines, get you chairs, and serve you because well, you need those things. You can't function without this kind of extra help (I mean, try picking something up off the floor when your center of gravity has completely changed in the span of a week!).

The remarkable thing is that so many people *don't* do those things. I have discovered, especially during the last few months, that while there are some exceptionally wonderful people on this planet, there are also some real schmucks.

I've crossed the street (in the crosswalk WITH the light) and been nearly run over by cars. I stood outside crowded restaurants and had many people notice me without one offering me a chair. I've walked down the street and had smokers continue to smoke their cigarettes without moving them away from me (despite my huge belly). I've been in restaurants and had to wait 40 minutes for someone to take my order (or even drinks!) at 5 months pregnant, all while multiple servers walked past my table. I've had doors slam in my face even though I've been told I look big enough to carry twins (which as every prego lady knows, everyone thinks we all are carrying twins...until you see someone who actually is).

I often wonder if fellow drivers wouldn't honk at me or cut me off if they knew I was pregnant.

It disturbs me how many people act with such a horrible level of incivility and carelessness. What if I was carrying the next Gandhi? Biko? Romero? Pele? You can't know (I could also be carrying the next Manson, but let's hope things swing the other way!).

But the problem isn't the potential of this new person I'm carrying inside me. The problem is that as a prego lady, I'm the canary in the coal mine. I'm an indicator of the direction of society. How people treat me, shows just where we are as a society (and tells you a great deal about the morals and values of the people in a given location).

Interestingly, I met with a great deal of care from strangers in Santa Barbara, Gilroy, and in King City. In Berkeley however, land of grand-standing and championing the voiceless, I was met with...none. Seriously (how embarrassing for you Berkeley!). People saw me - saw my belly - and continued to behave as if I needed no special treatment (like a chair, or well, anything). In fact, most places in the Bay I have received very little care or courtesy from strangers. It's actually rather shocking.

I don't know why the Bay is so discourteous. I don't know why big causes are so much more attractive than personal ones, but surely someone should look into this business.

All I can say is that kiddo is going to learn that holding doors, and offering chairs is no less important than saying "please" and "thank you." In fact, most people would say actions speak louder than words. But of course, it doesn't mean much to just say it.

Struggling to Find the American Dream

I'm angry. Really angry. And part of me wishes I could move to Norway, or Finland. "Why? What's so great about the land of Norse gods?!" you might ask yourself. Well let's have a little fireside chat about some of the things the American legislative branch has decided are unnecessary, namely government assistance to the poor.

I want to make the situation pretty clear here so there are no questions. In this post I'll give you a lowdown on my own situation, and then we'll get into the facts as they are for millions of Americans in at least a second post (if not more).

My Story

I went to school - college and graduate school - thinking that it didn't matter what I studied because I'd be able to find a job easily considering my skill set. I'm competent. Every job I've ever worked and put the slightest effort into, my bosses have loved me. They've always said I could move up (and several times I did just that).

In 2008 the economy crashed - horribly. Still, I was able to land a job after a couple of months because I happened to live in a city at the time that didn't have a lot of people like me in the labor force (Phoenix AZ). I supported my husband while he was in school, but we still couldn't pay for his schooling outright. We still needed loans to make things livable. Meanwhile, I was making payments to my own student loans.

During our time in Phoenix, it became progressively clearer that I couldn't continue to work for the company where I was employed because it was affecting my health. I was so stressed my body went haywire and I ended up being put on medication which actually made my situation even worse (turned out later the stuff wasn't fully vetted which meant people died and the company ended up being sued...but that's a different story). We ended up having huge medical costs despite my insurance coverage.

In an effort to cut our losses, when Christian graduated we rented our newly purchased home out and left the state. Christian got a job working for a shop at flat rate while I looked for something that would pay - anything. We didn't understand that flat rate meant we would NEED assistance in the winter and wouldn't be eligible. We thought I would be able to get a job quickly because of my skills and experience. It took me 6 months from 2010 to 2011 to get a part time job paying me a fraction of what I made in Phoenix per hour. Keep in mind, at this point Christian's loans came due. Our student loan payments doubled and we were living in a more expensive city.

With the help of Christian's family, we scraped by for months. They helped us financially in ways that are embarrassing, because it felt like we should have known better. I thought we should have figured out that flat rate wouldn't work long term. I felt like we should have known that working on motorcycles not only wouldn't be lucrative, but would render us downright poor. It was only when BMW invited him to the STEP program in New Jersey that we left the shop. I stayed with my parents for 2 months, while Christian was across the country. It was the only way we could afford him to go, and I knew the training would be good for him. I hoped our financial situation would be made better.

After he finished the program, he came back to California and he received several offers. We crunched numbers and determined the most cost effective location would be Bakersfield. While I didn't love the idea of living in Buck Owens' stomping ground, I liked the affordability. I didn't want to be in the same situation we had experienced in Hayward.

Bakersfield turned out to be much better than we expected. Even though it took some time for me to find a job (3 months), I found one that was fulfilling and exciting. There was room for growth. I looked forward to the idea of staying with the school and teaching more and more classes. I loved it. Christian's work on the other hand, made him want to shoot himself in the face every day. He became more and more sullen minute by minute. It was horrible to watch - painful.

Then of course, we had a disaster with our renters in Phoenix. We couldn't afford to fix what they ruined, and so they left. Suddenly we were stuck with rent payments and a house payment. We couldn't find renters for the price we needed. We had to cut our losses. We sold the house for more than we paid, but probably not more than we put into it. Considering the situation, it could have been worse. As it is, we're not eligible for an FHA loan until at least Fall 2014.

Christian's work got worse until he had the option of applying for a job with BMW San Francisco. We crunched numbers. They made an offer. It was enough for us to make ends meet, especially if I could find ANY kind of work (even a dinky after school job). I was horrified I would have to leave my good job in Bakersfield, but the benefits package and the idea of being in the Bay was enough for me to let go. We moved again.

BMW San Francisco was about as good of a position as you could possibly get in the motorcycle world. They paid hourly and when Christian took the job, they had an insurance program that didn't involve premiums. We could even make payments to our loans (which while being 30% of our income, we could just swing it). It was because of this we finally felt safe enough to think about a family. I planned to teach online classes or some other online thing.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find any consistent online work. As my pregnancy progressed, it became clearer and clearer I didn't have the energy to devote to a job and often, even my writing (something which I never find rarely if ever draining). I figured I would try again a few months after the baby was born and hopefully there would be some options.

Then last week happened. I was at 31 weeks into my pregnancy and Christian lost his job. With it went our insurance, our modicum of security, and any semblance of normalcy in our lives. I looked into government assistance - WIC, food stamps, and MediCal. Christian applied for unemployment. Then he quickly found a job, rendering us ineligible for any benefits and making it more difficult to navigate insurance (We will have to figure out Cobra - which I have heard is incredibly expensive and we'll have to have. I don't like the idea of going into labor without coverage if something goes wrong.).

This is the sum total of our financial struggles during the first 5 years of our marriage. It has been a trying, stressful, and incredibly painful time for us. We were only eligible for some benefits some of the time. Our loans were never able to be placed on deferment, despite our dire straits, because of the strict rules of eligibility. We were never able to save any money. I had to struggle to find a job every time we moved (and several times the pressure was incredibly great because without 2 incomes, we would have been incapable of supporting ourselves).

I have been unemployed for a total of  19 months since being married in August 2008, through a combination of moving and poor labor markets. During that time, I've been eligible for government assistance a total of 2 months and wasn't able to claim anything. I've used 26 months of forbearance on one of my loans, and 12 on the other (Christian's were also on forbearance for 12 months each). At some points, our loan payments were more than our income yet we were still unable to take advantage of deferment options. Meanwhile interest continued to accrue.

Did I mention our retirement accounts? Those have been earning less than the rate of inflation. And at least one of them has a fee taken out for "maintenance" (a fancy way of the institution saying, "We like to shit all over poor people, so we're going to take out money to pay our 6 figure salaries while you wonder what you'll do come your 65th birthday."). I won't go into the changes in our credit scores that occurred or the bank fees we incurred because we couldn't pay our bills regularly...

But here's the funny thing. According to various sources, our estimated income is still around the median for California (even adjusted for cost of living per state). This is disturbing considering we were struggling even with the small security of hourly pay that Christian received while working at BMW San Francisco.

My story points to several serious social problems:

1. Large student loan debts (with little practical relief)
2. Oversupply of educated labor in the market
3. Low real wages (even in skilled positions)
4. The high costs of health care (with and without insurance)
5. Structural problems with eligibility of government benefits (and the clear need for benefits with the above mentioned conditions)

I'm going to tackle these problems in at least the next post (if not several) because they all point to long term problems for the majority of Americans, not the least of which has been a personal concern - the need to postpone starting a family (or bringing children into poverty). It is my hope that my story and the discussions it brings with it will help people to think a little harder about what the most important issues are today (and who needs to be voted into or out of office).

If you have personal experiences like mine, please comment below! I know I'm not alone in this. There's power in numbers.

Urban Living Makes Me Cry

I REALLY want to leave Oakland. It's not that I don't like certain parts of the city, or that I don't like it more than SF or other places in the Bay. It's a pretty cool place actually.

It's just this is the third time I've had something stolen, and the 4th time I've felt violated since living in the loft.

Yes. Someone finally took our moldy crappy Ikea chairs today. Someone took a crappy thing right from the front of our place, stealing from a PREGNANT WOMAN. What a bastard.

I am just so tired of it.

I had a pretty emotionally charged day anyway (for reasons that I cannot explain in such a public forum). Needless to say, several other aspects of my life were impacted in a big way today. I was already feeling pretty high strung. Then I came home from a walk and saw my chairs were missing. I didn't notice them missing before, though I did notice (while I was home which makes me feel even worse) someone hanging out in front of our loft. I thought maybe they were cleaning some of the leaves. My neighbors do that. They're diligent. I can't. I'm pregnant. I think it annoys them, but whatever.

Since this is the third time someone from Oakland has taken something from me, I kind of feel like it's the last straw.

You see, I really don't like concrete. I like trees. I don't like cars. I like walking. I don't like the sound of the freeway or the trains. I like the sound of birds and insects. I like the sound of rushing water and wind rustling leaves. I want space and green, and fresh air that isn't marred by my neighbor's morning cigarette. I'd prefer to have a house out away from it all where if someone steps on my lawn, I can by right shoot them. Keep in mind I'm saying this and I'm a pacifist (I swear!).

I'm trying to stay calm, but I'm just so angry I can't see straight. I want to say:

Dear Chair Thief,

I hope you aren't actually a thief, but a secret do-gooder intent on fixing my moldy Ikea wooden folding chairs and planning on returning them to me in a beautiful state because you know that I am pregnant and can't do it myself. If you are actually a thief, I hope you are properly ashamed of yourself because you didn't take chairs from a ritzy Bohemian trust-fund baby. You took the last 2 outdoor chairs of a pregnant writer lady who is freaking out about how she is going to take care of her family this coming year. So, if you are in fact the thief I think you are (maybe the same one who took the other 2 chairs earlier this year?) then I hope you burn in the special hell reserved for people who take advantage of the less fortunate along with robber barons, white collar criminals, and chair thieves everywhere. 

Sincerely,

Your Neighborhood Pregnant Starving Artist

I sense a Craigslist posting here. Possibly a best of? Yes. Maybe that will brighten my day. Really, anything could make me feel better right now, but especially a bunch of book purchases or confirmed blog tour hosts would turn this frown upside down. Other suggestions are welcome.