on furloughs and finance

So I think that I have come to terms with the fact that my daughter is living slightly on the spoiled side. It's not because she has a lot of *stuff* or the best clothes, toys, etc. It's because I rarely say no. Epiphany here...this isn't about my daughter, it's about me. That's the bad news. The better news is that the completely crappy national economic situation is helping my daughter---errr, uh-hum---I mean, me. I was on furlough last week---(unpaid time off---cost-cutting corporate measure) and became essentially a stay-at-home mom for the week. For the first time. It was pretty freakin' cool. I was a much nicer, more organized and in control person overall.
That being said, I learned that saying no to my daughter doesn't suck as much when I have the time to sit down and explain why. (and yes, therapist will tell you that I consistently overcompensate for my own childhood!) Shocking news flash!!!! Taking time to talk to your children proves helpful!!!
When we began budgeting in earnest a few months ago (due to several rounds of layoffs, sinking stock prices, and dismal industry future), my daughter would ask for something, I would snap "no" and tell her that we were on a budget. That was, perhaps, the wrong approach. This last week, without the benefit of a 50 or 60 hour work week, meant that explanations were in order. No, we can't go to Disneyland, but we can pack a picnic, make our own parade, and go to the neighborhood park. We can blow bubbles, build sandcastles and bake cookies together. This was a better type of no.
My company announced additional furloughs yesterday. More time off without pay for me. So, for me: no pedicures, no pretty spring dresses, no new couch. Instead, a week off as a nice mom---one who takes the time to explain needs vs. wants---well, pretty good trade, don't ya think?
My son is 3 and doesn't understand finance or budget or furloughs or stimulus plans, but I'm hoping he'll be a little less spoiled. Or, rather, his mom will learn to spoil a little less.

If you ever get lost between LA and Phoenix...

you might end up in the Salton Sea, which is where I have to go this weekend. It's familial duty, and one I loathe. I have to travel through meth-infested desert with two young children to visit grand American tourist attractions like Slab City and Salvation Mountain. Google them---you'll think it's a joke but you'd be wrong.

knowing a newsmaker

I work in television news. We often cover stories of stabbings, murder, robbery, scandals, fraud, and much worse (horrifyingly worse). We occasionally cover stories of great hope or perseverance...of everyday heroes and unsung superstars. This week we find ourselves covering one of our own...someone I work with and respect, and really like (an awful lot!) His son is missing somewhere off the coast of Florida, after a boat capsized in rough weather...3 men are still missing. One man was found and rescued, and is expected to be o.k. We are covering the story with heavy hearts. As every hour ticks by, we know that likelihood of survival is becoming less possible. My heart hurts for my friend, a father who loves his missing son. I can pray for him as a friend, but feel such outrage as a parent...such anger---as a I understand that every parents' worst nightmare is that of losing a child. I am praying, hoping for a miracle...and bitter at what a hollow word "news" is.