Life is crazy.
The Value of Hiding Money From Your Spouse
I have a confession, but it’s probably not going to be a big shocker if you read the title of this post.

I hide money from my wife.
Some of you just started screaming at your monitor that I’m a horrible person.
That’s cool.
You’re wrong, but the fact that I got that reaction out of you makes me smile.
Ok, I might be a little bit horrible, but not because I hide money.
My wife has an admitted shopping problem. If she thinks we’re broke, she shops less. That’s a win and allows me to save up for our long-term goals and provide for our financial security.
I don’t lie about it. If she asks how we’re doing, I tell her. At least in general terms.
But I didn’t tell her about my annual bonus, until we had a bunch of car repairs come up that would have swamped our emergency fund.
I also haven’t told her about the cash I’ve been stockpiling.
A couple of years ago, the power went out here for four days. It wasn’t just our house, it was 75% of everything within 5 miles of our house.
When the power came on in some places after a day or two, the phone lines were still down, which meant gas stations couldn’t process credit cards.
Quick, look in your wallet and tell me how much cash you have on you….
Most people live on their credit or debit cards.
Could you buy food or water if your plastic was gone?
I could that week, but not for long, so I started taking the cash payments from my side hustle and putting it aside. I’d come home, give my wife a little cash, keep a little cash for myself, and put at least 80% of it away. I absolutely refuse to touch that money for anything.
Part of the “set it aside and forget about” means not revealing its existence. It would be too easy to dip into it to pay the pizza guy or when we go to Rennfest.
So I don’t talk about, and it gets to sit all by itself in the safe, comfy and warm. It’s my security blanket, and nobody gets to touch my binky.
Fall From Grace
When you accumulate a certain level of debt, it feels like you’re wading through an eyeball-deep pool of poo, dancing on your tiptoes just to keep breathing. Ask me how I really feel.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that I’m in debt. We have gone over this before. The story isn’t one of my proudest, so I’ve never talked much about how it happened.
Our debt was entirely our fault. We messed up and dug our own poo-pool. There were no major medical bills, no extended unemployment, just a strong consumer urge and an apparent need for instant gratification. Delayed gratification wasn’t a skill I’d considered learning. The idea of it was a thoroughly foreign concept. Why wait when every store we visited offered no payments/no interest for a year? We didn’t give much thought to what would happen when the year was up.
We got married young. We bought our house young. We started our family young. We did all of that over the course of two years, well before we were financially ready. Twenty years old, we had excellent credit and gave our credit reports a workout. Credit was so easy to get. By the time I was 22, we had a total credit limit more than twice our annual income. We fought so hard to keep up with the Joneses. A new pickup, a remodel on our house. Within a month of paying off the truck, I got a significant raise and rushed out to buy a new car.
Every penny that hit the table was caught in a net of lifestyle expansion. I was bouncing on my tiptoes.
Four months into my new car payment, I was laid off. There’s me, hoping for a snorkel. A week later, we found out our son was going to be a big brother. Our pool had developed a tide.
We killed the cable and cut back on everything else and…managed. Money was tight, but we got by. I got a new job, but had we learned any lessons? Of course not. We got a satellite dish, started shopping the way we always had. Times were good, and could never be bad. We had such short memories.
Fast forward a couple of years. Baby #3 is on the way while baby #2 is still in diapers. Daycare was about to double. Daddy started to panic. I built a rudimentary budget and realized there was no way to make ends meet. There just wasn’t enough cash coming in to cover expenses. That’s when I made my first frugal decision: I quit smoking. That cut the expenses right to the level of our income. It was tight, but doable.
There was still one serious problem. Neither one of us could control our impulse shopping. For a time, I was getting packages delivered almost every day. It was never anything expensive, but it was always something. Little things add up quickly.
Last spring, I realized we couldn’t keep going like that. I started looking into bankruptcy. Somehow, we managed to toss ourselves into the deep end of the pool. We had near-perfect credit and no way to maintain it.
While researching bankruptcy, I found our life preserver. We put together a budget. We cut and…it hurt. It’s taken a year, but every bill we have is finally being tracked. We have an emergency fund and we are working towards our savings goals. It hasn’t been an easy year, but we are making progress. We’ve eliminated 15% of our debt and opened out budget to include some “blow money” and an occasional date night. We are always looking for ways to decrease our bottom line and increase the top line. Most important, we are actually working together to keep all of our expenses under control, with no hurt feelings when we remind ourselves to stay on track.
We are finally standing flat-footed, head and shoulders above the poo.
Update: This post has been included in the Carnival of Personal Finance.
Thrifty Sucks – The 30 Day Compact
- Image by waving at you via Flickr
During the month of September, we went on a 30-day compact. We decided to avoid buying anything new for 30 days. The plan was, if we needed to buy something, we’d hit a pawn shop, a thrift store, or Craigslist. Obviously, food and consumable hygiene products were exempt from the rules. I’m not going to stink or starve for an experiment like this. Ideally, at the end of the month, our discretionary budget would reflect our extra thriftiness, leaving us a couple of hundred extra dollars at the end of the month.
Great plan.
I found out a few days ago that we actually made it 3 days. Grr. That’s when the credit card bill came. Double-Grr.
All in all, that one slip isn’t a big deal. We also had a few presents we had to buy for a couple of birthdays and one wedding. Also not a big deal, since we have a budget for gifts. It may have been against the rules, but what were we going to do, drink the free beer at the wedding without bringing a gift? How rude.
So we had a few slips. That’s not bad, considering exactly how well “consumer” describes us.
Avoiding retail shopping is a lot harder than it sounds. We have everything we need, so on paper, it should have been simple. We didn’t need anything, so we wouldn’t have to buy anything.
Like I said, great plan.
There were a few books released this month that I have been anxiously awaiting, like Monster Hunter:Vendetta and Chris Guillebeaus’s book, The Art of Non-Conformity. They have both had to wait. In the next few days, I will be buying both of these books. That makes this project very similar to an inverse “Cash for Clunkers” program. Instead of moving spending that would have happened anyway to an arbitrary time-frame, I moved spending out of an arbitrary time-frame, but the spending is still happening.
My wife has an admitted shopping addiction. This project caused a rather…explosive…discussion this week. Not-so-coincidentally, that happened the day we got the credit card bill. Note to self: “What the heck is this?” is not the right way to start a conversation. Oops.
We had 30 days of trying to avoid the retail trap, and kicking ourselves when we slipped. What did we learn?
1. We are big damned consumers. We are so much better than we used to be, but so far off of where we’d like to be.
2. Target is infinitely more convenient that Craigslist. We may pay a small premium for that convenience, but generally, it’s worth it.
3. When you forget to budget for a speeding ticket that needs to be paid 5 months after you received it, it does not matter if you saved some of your discretionary budget by not shopping retail that month.
4. When you open a credit card bill and get upset, be prepared to get clubbed over the head with #3. Repeatedly.
This month, I’m going to do my best to learn a new language. I’m having a hard time deciding which one. Spanish would be most practical. Norwegian would let me read some of the artwork on my Grandma’s wall, but Italian sounds like the most fun.
Nothing like waiting until the last minute.
Ignore Your Budget
For the first year of our journey out of debt, we had a strict budget, with all of our discretionary money spent out of an envelope system. We had an envelope for groceries, one for discretionary spending, one for clothes and one for baby crap. At the beginning of the month, we’d divide the money into the envelopes according to our budget spreadsheet. If we used a card for anything, we’d take a matching about of money out of the appropriate envelope and put it in a box to get reconciled the next month.
Ugh. Almost 2 years later, it has turned into too much work and too much nagging about everything either of us put on a card.
We decided to simplify the system a few months ago. Now, we still have a budget. It’s even a zero-based budget, but we ignore it. We only look at it if something changes for the worse. If something changes for the better, the extra money just gets automatically rolled into our debt snowball, so there’s no need to worry about updating the spreadsheet.
Instead of envelopes, we kind of eyeball it. We budget $450 per month for groceries, so we aim to spend $100 on our weekly grocery run. That leaves some room for losing track of how much we are putting in the cart, or a last minute addition to the list. It also leaves room for our secondary grocery trip to buy bread and milk later in the week. We do go through a lot of milk at my house. We budget $55 per month for diapers, but the deal we are currently getting with Amazon Mom is only costing us $30.79 for 6 weeks of diapers. We ignore the difference.
This—and our heavily automated bill pay and savings—lets us keep our finances on track, without stressing over every dollar or fighting over every little thing that comes home unplanned. I used to fire up Quicken and balance the checkbook every week. Now, that happens at the beginning of the month, usually. If I forget, it doesn’t matter. At the beginning of February, I balanced the checkbook for the first time in almost two months and we never came close to exercising our overdraft protection account. In fact, we had some extra, so that got sent directly to our debt.
Overall, it’s been good to test out a new system. We have almost no financial stress and managing our money takes about a couple of hours per month instead of per week. It’s all win.
Three Ways to Make Christmas Cheap
We failed Christmas Budgeting 101 this year. I haven’t totaled the damage, yet, but we have spent at least $500 more than we had planned.
It hurt.
Next year, we’re going to handle the Christmas budget differently. This year’s model isn’t working. It’s a lot like pushing a car down a hill to get it started, but ignoring the cliff at the bottom.
1. Use cash. A huge part of our problem was that Capital One is helping us celebrate. It’s horrible, because we both know we shouldn’t be using a credit card, for exactly this reason, but we can’t seem to make the transition back away from the plastic. Part of the reason is that Amazon and ThinkGeek don’t accept cash, and part of it is convenience. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not carrying a balance on the card, but it’s still far too easy to overspend.
2. Communicate! If our gift budget is $500, and I spend $300 online while she’s busy spending $300 in stores, out budget is shot. Worse, if we spend that money buying stuff for the same people, our budget is shot before our shopping is done. A little bit of this happened to us this year.
3. Explore atheism. There really is no more effective wa
y to cut down holiday expenses than to eliminate the holiday completely. This may not be the best answer for everyone, but it’s effective. On the other hand, I know several atheists who celebrate Christmas as much as anyone else. This probably isn’t a good alternative for most people.
3, Take 2. Cut back on “stuff”. My kids have more toys than they can play with. My kids’ parents have more toys than they can play with. Do we really need more? Wouldn’t it be better to spend the money I’d normally use to buy my wife a present on a series of date nights, spread out through the year? I could take my kids to Feed My Starving Children so they can understand how privileged they are and how much the things they take for granted are really worth.
There are so many other ways to celebrate a holiday that has turned into a national orgy of consumerism. Next year, we’ll be trying some of the alternatives.