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What motivates me financially?
This post was originally written for a blog swap run by the Yakezie personal finance blog network to answer the question “What motivates you to be financially responsible?“
This may not be the most original motivation, but I am financially motivated by my family. Before I had kids, I didn’t care much about money or “stuff”. My goal was to sell everything I owned and backpack Europe. Yeah, it’s a bit cliché, but that’s the way it is. I was also considering trying to live out of saddlebags while touring the country 1000 CCs at a time.
Now, I’ve got so many other considerations. Four, to be exact. A wife and three kids certainly change your perspective. If it doesn’t, you’ve got flaws that I can’t help you with.
When my family started, it was a huge wake-up call. Suddenly, I had responsibilities (cue scary music). Overnight, I had things to care about that didn’t involve a party, or instant gratification, or, well, me. Merlin the Stork floated down, waved a wand and Poof! I was a grown-up. This may not sound like much of a shock, but my wife and I had baby #1 when we were 20. Adulthood was still pretty new to us, and suddenly we’re parents?
As a grown-up, with three precious little monsters dependent on me for absolutely everything, I had to start worrying about their security. This was more than just keeping them physically safe. I’ve had to manage their emotional health, their physical needs, and their entertainment. They rely on me (and my wife!) for everything. How could I live with myself if I couldn’t put food on the table and a roof over their heads? Winter boots? Clothes without holes? Visits to the doctor? Have you ever noticed how much kids cost, even without considering the Japanese fad games and Barbie dreamhouses? Having a kid is like cutting a hole in your wallet and holding it over a blender nestled comfortably in a roaring fire fueled by napalm.
Then, after I’ve got them clothed, fed, sheltered, and entertained, I have to teach them how to be real people. I’m of the opinion that children in their natural state are little more than wild animals. Generally cuter, but that’s about it. It’s a parent’s job to train that ravenous little beast into an acceptable, successful person. Part of that consists of teaching the little brats how to start paying for their own clothes, food, shelter, and entertainment, and how to manage that without becoming a drain on society. Productivity and success can be defined a thousand different ways, but none of them include letting other people pay your way or borrowing money you have no intention or means of repaying. Ultimately, being an adult–being a successful part of society–involves recognizing your responsibilities and living up to them.
Caring for, providing for, and teaching my children the things I know provides me with an irreplaceable opportunity to watch them grow and learn, while giving me a chance to steer that growth. It is, without a doubt, the best, most satisfying, and most difficult thing I have ever done. The pleasure I get from raising my kids reinforces my desire to become the best person I can be.
Really, I just want to be the guy my kids think I am.
The Happy Butt
Do you find the cloud in every silver lining? Is the glass not only half empty, but evaporating? Do you start every day thinking
about how the effects of entropy on the universe make everything you do ultimately pointless?
You may be a pessimist.
Pessimism gets a bad rap. Without pessimists, we wouldn’t have insurance plans, missile defense systems, or Eeyore, and what would the world be without those things?
The thing you have to ask yourself is “Does the negativity make you happy?”
The next thing you have to ask yourself is whether or not you were lying with your previous answer.
If you have a negative outlook on everything, I have good news for you: it’s possible to defeat it. No matter how long you’ve been looking at the world through coffin-colored glasses, no matter how ingrained your negative slant is, it’s possible to change it.
You have to want to change it, because, as the saying goes, old habits die hard. Yippee kai yay.
You need a happy butt.
Little known fact: language shapes the way you think. If your language has no words for a concept, you will have a difficult time thinking about that concept, or even understanding it. Statistically, Asians are better at math than their western-world counterparts. Why? It’s not genetic. When a family moves to the US, the edge is lost within 2 generations. It’s not the amount of school they get. Even in backwaters with limited school access demonstrate the same abilities.
It’s the language. Euro-based languages are horrible. They are a clumsy mish-mash of crap from around the world, and the numbering system makes no sense. 11, 12, 13, huh? Spoken, that’s not a progression, it’s something we have to learn by rote. Why is 13 pronounce “thirteen”, with the ones place first, but 23 is pronounced with the tens place first, the way it is written? Where did the word “twenty” even come from? It’s obviously a horrible bastardization of “two” and “ten”, but is it self-evident? Does the progression through the decades follow some kind of rule? Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. Nope.
The Asian languages (most of them) differ. The numeric progression is spoken in a rules-based progression that makes sense. 23 is literally “two tens three”, making learning math less about rote memorization and more about masters some simple rules.
In the western world, we are handicapped by our language, at least when it comes to math.
The rest of our thoughts are formed by language, too. Learn a language with different roots than the one your were born with and see how your perceptions change.
One of the signs of negative thinking is qualifying everything you say negatively. For example, one person might say “It’s a beautiful day, today” while Mr. Negativebritches would say “It’s a beautiful day, but it’s probably going to rain.” That’s a sad butt, err, but. Every time you qualify a sentence with a sad butt, you are reinforcing your negative view of the world.
The solution? Drop your drawers and paint on a smiley face. You need a happy but(t). You can rephrase the sentence into a happy thought without changing the sentiment or meaning in any way. Try this: “It’s probably going to rain, but it’s a beautiful day, now.” That’s a happy butt, and it reinforces the positive in your mind.
It sounds stupid, but it works. Your language shapes your life. Put a positive spin on what you say, and you will eventually start to think about life in a positive way.
Give it a shot. For the next week, every time you say something negative, qualify it with a happy butt. At the end of the week, come back here and tell me how it’s working and if you can sense a change in your mindset.
Why do you need a trailer?
As I mentioned before, we recently bought a Chevy Tahoe. When we bought it, we had a Ford F150 and a Dodge Caliber that we could have traded in, but decided to sell on our own, instead.
About a month ago, we sold the truck. If you’ve never owned a truck, you probably don’t realize how handy they are to have. From hauling brush to moving furniture to donating large amount of crap to Goodwill, we used our truck.
We’ve also been on a mission to replace all of our old crappy stuff with nicer things, without spending a ton to make that happen. We’ve been selling stuff on Craigslist, then taking that money to buy other stuff we’re finding good deals on.
We found a 4×8 utility trailer for $300. It came home with us. The first thing I heard was “Why do you need a trailer?”
Now, we could have made do with delivery fees or rental trucks, but that seemed silly to me.
- We recently replaced our living room couches. One of our cats had mistaken one of them for a litter box. No amount of enzyme cleaner gets that smell out of a couch cushion. Shortly after that, my fat a** popped two of the springs out of the bottom. Bad couch. We found a good deal on brand new replacements, but the delivery fee would have been $80.
- My wife found a beautiful entertainment center last week that matched the corner entertainment center we already have. We don’t need another entertainment center, but after convincing the seller to sell us the side units without the center unit, we have glass-doored bookshelves that exactly match the largest piece of furniture we own. Without the trailer, we would have had to rent a truck to get them home.
- Tomorrow, we’ll be taking the last load of stuff out of my mother-in-law’s house. Without the trailer, that would be several trips in the car.
We’ve had the thing for 3 weeks and it has almost paid for itself in time and money. I think that makes for a good investment. I don’t expect to buy a new living room set every month, but it’s nice to be able to deal with large things when the need arises.
The End of Litter
In honor of Earth Day (a day late), I’m going to talk about ending litter.
Not the stuff you find on the street or throw from your car window. I don’t mind that because, on a long enough timeline, everything is biodegradable. Mother Nature is tougher than I am. She can handle my McDonald’s wrappers.
No, I’m talking about the real scourge: cat litter.
We’ve got four of the things, and let me tell you, they make poop. Everyday. I keep telling my wife that they are going to continue making poop as long as we keep feeding them, but she continues to give them food.
For those of you who don’t know, most cats use a litter box, which is a fun pan full of a sand-like mixture of diatomaceous earth and bentonite clay, which trains your cat to use the neighbor kid’s sandbox if you let the little potsticker go outside.
Thanks for that.
So, everyday, our four cats crap in a couple of pans full of sand. Until the sand pans get too full of cat crap. Then, they use the couch.
Who decided this was a good system? Is it a conspiracy of Big Couch to force people to buy new furniture on a regular basis, the way Big Oil suppressed the 1000 mile-per-gallon carburetor, Big Pharma suppressed the cure-all hemlock pill, and Big Sword suppressed world peace during the Dark Ages?
There’s got to be a better way.
Right?
Enter the CitiKitty. It’s the miracle cat potty trainer featured on The Shark Tank.
Here’s how it works:
- Move the litter box to the bathroom and start using flushable cat litter.
- Once the cats are comfortable with that change, put the CitiKitty on the toilet, under the ring and add litter.
- In a week or two, when all of the cats are comfortable with the setup, pop out the center ring of the CitiKitty. This gets the cats used to doing their business over water.
- Every couple of weeks, pop out another ring until the cats are used to standing on the slippery ring and crapping directly into the water. Praise the cat when it happens, because cats give a crap about your opinion.
- Throw the litter box away and brag to your friends.
Because I love testing things to make my life easier, and I hate cat crap, I gave the thing a try.
It worked great until step 3. Apparently, pooping directly into water is similar to trapping a vampire with running water and causes the cats to panic and find somewhere else to poop, never to return to the bathroom.
There’s really nothing better than stumbling into the living room half asleep, turning on the news and flopping onto the couch, only to find a little lump, still warm, under your butt.
Don’t get me wrong, step 2 was a pain in the neck, too. In order to use the toilet, you have to take the stinking sandbox off of the toilet without spilling litter all over the bathroom, find a place to set it that isn’t disgusting, do your business, put the litter pan back on the toilet, and wash your hands really hard. If you’re a friend of my son’s sleeping over, it’s easier just to not notice the litter box sitting there and top it off in the middle of the night.
It’s a heck of an idea. The best execution I’ve seen for getting a cat to crap in the toilet.
But it doesn’t frickin’ work. If you’ve got a cat using the toilet, I’m guessing you had to sacrifice the neighbor kid to some kind of evil Lovecraftian entity to make it happen, because the CitiKitty didn’t do it.
How come my back hurts?
My favorite book series is the Sword of Truth by Terry Goodkind. It’s a good sword-and-sorcery, good-versus-evil fantasy.
But I’m not here to talk about that series. Rather, I’m going to talk about one particular scene in book 6, Faith of the Fallen.
There’s a scene where Richard, the protagonist, ends up in a socialist workers’ paradise, where the government controls distribution and everybody is starving. Jobs are hard to come by, because everything is unionized and unions control access to work. That’s a non-accidental parallel to every country that has embrace socialist principles, or even leans that way. Go open a business with employees in France, I dare you.
So Richard goes out of his way to help someone with no expectation of reward. This person then offers to vouch for him at the union meeting, effectively offering him a job.
This is the conversation that follows:
Nicci shook her head in disgust. “Ordinary people don’t have your luck, Richard. Ordinary people suffer and struggle while your luck gets you into a job.”
“If it was luck,” Richard asked, “then how come my back hurts?”
If it was luck, how come my back hurts?
Seneca, a 2000-year-dead Roman philosopher said, “Luck is where the crossroads of opportunity and preparation meet.”
I won’t lie, I’ve got a pretty cushy job. I make decent money, I work from home, I love my company’s mission, and I kind of fell into the job.
By fell into, I mean:
- I started teaching myself to program computers when I was 7.
- I worked in a collection agency collecting on defaulted student loans to put myself through college while I had a baby at home.
- When I graduated, I went out of my way to help anyone I could, which positioned me for a promotion, getting my first programming job. The first one is the hardest.
- I spent 3 years studying the online marketing aspects of what I’m doing, with no promise of a payoff.
- I launched a side business in the same industry as the company I work for.
- I built a relationship with an author to include his books in the classes I teach. He happened to move to the company I’m with.
- I offered advice–for free, on a regular basis–on certain aspects of his business and his responsibilities with this company.
- He offered me a job.
That’s 25 years and tens of thousands of dollars spent earning my luck. How come my back hurts?
I have a friend on disability. He has a couple of partially-shattered vertebrae in his back, but he keeps pushing off the corrective surgery because the payments would stop after he heals. He refuses to get a regular job, because his payments would stop. He lives on $400 per month and whatever he can hustle for cash, and he will make just that until the day he dies. And he complains about his bad luck.
His back literally hurts, but not metaphorically. His bad luck is the product of deliberately holding himself down to keep that free check flowing.
I have another friend who made some bad decisions young. Some years ago, he decided that was over. He took custody of his kid and started a business that rode the housing bubble. When the bubble popped, so did his business. Instead of whining about his luck, he worked his way into an entry-level banking job.
He put in long (long!) hours, bending over backwards to help his customers and coworkers, and managed a few promotions, far earlier than normal. His coworkers whined about it. He’s so lucky. If it was luck, why does his back hurt?
We make our own luck.
If you bust your ass, working hard and helping people–your coworkers, your customers, your friends, your neighbors–and you are willing to seize an opportunity when it appears, you will get ahead. When you do, the people around you who do the bare minimum, who refuse–or are afraid–to seize an opportunity, who always ask what’s in it for them, they will will whine about your luck.
When they do, you will get to ask, “If it was luck, how come my back hurts?”
