The upcoming charity sale is consuming my life, so this post will be thrown together and might get wordy (What? Me wordy? Never). I just thought this was so absurd it was hilarious in a very wrong sort of way and had to share (it might also be therapeutic for me because I am not a happy camper).
As the story goes, the large banks got bailed out by the government. They, in turn, were supposed to filter that money back into the economy by utilizing the fancy, promise-rich, newly implemented, save-the-world programs for homeowners. This is how affective it is.
The current interest rate on our mortgage loan is 5.85%. Not too bad. But rates are down in the 4% range, and we wanted to take advantage of those rates by refinancing. We have busted our butts through the years to build excellent credit and Mark has a stable job. In this economy, shouldn't banks be jumping at the chance to have customers who actually have the ability to pay? Surprisingly, no.
Our only glitch (or so we thought) was that our home, like so many others, has seen a 50% decrease in value. You read that right, 50%. Every last penny of equity lost. But, we are luckily not upside down (barely). We owe exactly what our home is currently worth. Using the old 80/20 mortgage loan programs, we would not have been able to refinance. Enter newly implemented loan programs to rectify the situation.
The program we qualified for was created for homeowners just like us. If all other qualifications were met, it allowed a refi to be done even if the appraised value came in less than what was typically required. It was perfect. And so we locked our rate, filled out the required paperwork and waited. We waited and waited and waited. Certainly a loan cannot be tied up in underwriting for 3 months?
Well, it can't. The loan was canceled because it had hit a snag and therefore went over the allowable 90 day window. What was the glitch that kept us from refinancing?
Three years ago, when we first bought our house, our dear mortgage company accidentally typed in the wrong city when inputting our address in their data base. The error was caught and corrected. However, the correction is considered a modification. And when a loan is modified, for any reason whatsoever, it no longer qualifies for the program.
Essentially, our loan officer told us he had about 500 loan applicants attempting to utilize this "fantastic" new program. He figures only about 5 loans will actually close. I guess it should be of comfort to know we are not alone, but it makes my blood boil knowing that those highly publicized new loan programs to help homeowners are completely for show. They were never put into place to actually help, just to give homeowners a false sense of relief.
Okay, rant over. We will go on making our mortgage payment business as usual and be grateful we have the means to do so. But if I had that extra $250 in my pocket every month, do you know how many trips to Cold Stone that could fund? So government and Wells Fargo, on behalf of my thighs I thank you.
July 29, 2009
July 24, 2009
A good day
We were at Burger King today (I'm not a big fan, so I packed my own sandwich and sat and ate it while all the other patrons stared) and I had an epiphany. Or rather, Cora's observation sparked an epiphany. Of sorts.We were seated beside another family consisting of the same make-up: a mother and 2 young daughters. While my children dribbled chocolate milk on themselves, and climbed, slid and flipped their way to flushed cheeks, her children were told to sit up straight, chew properly and wait the required 10 minutes without a word for their food to settle before playtime could commence. I chalked it up to different parenting styles and perhaps a rough day on the mother's part. Cora saw it differently.
On the car ride home, she said, "That mom was so mean. She didn't let her kids do anything or have any fun."
"Do I let you have fun?" I asked, truly curious for her response.
"Everyday," she said. And my heart was full.
I screw up everyday as a mother. Everyday. I am mean and I yell and I don't play with my kids enough. I am imperfect, and I always will be. But my goal in life since my babies took their first breath was to bring them joy. I wanted them to smile and laugh everyday. I wanted them to know they are loved and I wanted them to be happy. That alone would make my life complete.
It is good to know that despite my shortcomings, Cora feels her life is fun. I know it won't always be this easy to please them. But because it still is, we skipped bedtime tonight, grabbed a blanket and headed out to the trampoline to watch the stars. We sang Twinkle Twinkle more times than I have fingers to count on and talked about constellations (for the record, Claire corrected all of the misinformed astronomers of the world. That formation of stars we know as the Big Dipper is in fact a toothbrush. Who knew?).
Because their little eyes didn't shut until almost 10:30pm, tomorrow might be a train wreck. I am anticipating the meltdowns to come. But man was today a good day.
July 22, 2009
Are you there God? It's me, Amber.
I have religious beliefs. Strong ones. But I don't, nor will I ever, talk about them on my blog. Many of you may see that as strange. I am not ashamed of the things I believe, I just prefer not to discuss them on my blog. Most of my friends do. And I think that is great. But my blog will remain a religion free zone.
With that said, I want to tell you about an experience I had recently while planning the charity garage sale. Although I had hoped for an outpouring of support, I underestimated the greatness of the people around me and the people of this community. It has exploded from a small neighborhood garage sale, to a full blown charity event. A driveway would no longer be sufficient. Thus began my search for a much larger venue.
All I needed was a parking lot. So I opened the phone book and began making phone calls. I begged old friends who are business owners. I contacted the gym I teach at. I called Albertsons, Fred Meyer, Wal-Mart, Chevron, Hastings, Shopko, the gym where Cora takes gymnastics. I spent 3 hours on the phone. I was transferred here, disconnected there, promised a return call more times than I can count. I spoke to HR departments, store directors, managers, owners, real estate agents, PR firms. And I was told no. No. No. No. No. No.
We did not fall within the parameters of the charity functions they support. We did not have an EIN number. We were not an official non-profit. We might just take the money and run. We would have to contact so and so at corporate who would direct me to talk to so and so, who would then direct me to call so and so's boss. We needed to obtain liability insurance. We needed a formal letter on our company (?) letterhead, which would then be submitted to corporate and they would have an answer for us in 2 weeks, just 2 days after the garage sale. They would all like to help, but....
I was frustrated. We were trying to do such a great thing and the door kept slamming in our faces. Could it really be that hard to do good these days? I was feeling so discouraged. Sad that companies had implemented such strict policies regarding helping others, and angry that dishonest people those companies had dealt with in the past had required them to do so. And I was exhausted from begging, pleading with those businesses to trust us, have faith in the good we were doing.
In a last ditch effort, I picked up the phone and called a large Nazarene church. I am not Nazarene and have no connections at that particular building whatsoever. But I felt, at this point, what was one more rejection. And their parking lot was huge; the location prime. This is how my 101st phone conversation for that day went:
Lacey: Five Mile Nazarene Church, this is Lacey how can I help you?
Me: Hi Lacey. My name is Amber. I am heading up a charity garage sale on August 1st and we are in desperate need of a venue to hold the sale.
Lacey: On August 1st. Hmmm. Let me check. Nothing on the calendar. That sounds great.
Me: *pause* So, we CAN use your parking lot?
Lacey: Well sure.
Me: Did you need to know who the sale is benefiting or more information?
Lacey: Oh yes. Tell me all about it.
I quickly explain the situation. Choosing my words carefully, sure that this phone call is too good to be true. Waiting for the but....
Lacey: Oh that sounds amazing. This should be a perfect location for you. A lot of trees for shade. We have plenty of sidewalk space to set tables up on. And we see a lot of traffic, so your sale should be a success. But, there is one thing.
I knew it. She needed my EIN number. She needed to see a copy of our non-profit's accounting for the last 5 years. She needed the golden locks of my first born.
Lacey: We actually just had our church garage sale last weekend and we have a bunch of stuff left over. Would it be okay if we donated it to your sale?
I wanted to reach through the phone and kiss her. But I'm not sure how the Nazarenes feel about that sort of thing, so I refrained. She didn't know me. She didn't know the back story. She had never heard of our couponing blog. She heard the word "charity" and knew the rest would work itself out. Because she did not work for a jaded company. She was not employed by a business that placed restrictions on serving others. She was serving her God. And her God might not be your God. And your God might be no God at all. Regardless, there is much to be learned from her faith.
I hope I always remember Lacey. On days I feel nervous to raise my daughters in such an evil, corrupt, unforgiving world, I hope I remember her unwavering belief in the goodness of people.
With that said, I want to tell you about an experience I had recently while planning the charity garage sale. Although I had hoped for an outpouring of support, I underestimated the greatness of the people around me and the people of this community. It has exploded from a small neighborhood garage sale, to a full blown charity event. A driveway would no longer be sufficient. Thus began my search for a much larger venue.
All I needed was a parking lot. So I opened the phone book and began making phone calls. I begged old friends who are business owners. I contacted the gym I teach at. I called Albertsons, Fred Meyer, Wal-Mart, Chevron, Hastings, Shopko, the gym where Cora takes gymnastics. I spent 3 hours on the phone. I was transferred here, disconnected there, promised a return call more times than I can count. I spoke to HR departments, store directors, managers, owners, real estate agents, PR firms. And I was told no. No. No. No. No. No.
We did not fall within the parameters of the charity functions they support. We did not have an EIN number. We were not an official non-profit. We might just take the money and run. We would have to contact so and so at corporate who would direct me to talk to so and so, who would then direct me to call so and so's boss. We needed to obtain liability insurance. We needed a formal letter on our company (?) letterhead, which would then be submitted to corporate and they would have an answer for us in 2 weeks, just 2 days after the garage sale. They would all like to help, but....
I was frustrated. We were trying to do such a great thing and the door kept slamming in our faces. Could it really be that hard to do good these days? I was feeling so discouraged. Sad that companies had implemented such strict policies regarding helping others, and angry that dishonest people those companies had dealt with in the past had required them to do so. And I was exhausted from begging, pleading with those businesses to trust us, have faith in the good we were doing.
In a last ditch effort, I picked up the phone and called a large Nazarene church. I am not Nazarene and have no connections at that particular building whatsoever. But I felt, at this point, what was one more rejection. And their parking lot was huge; the location prime. This is how my 101st phone conversation for that day went:
Lacey: Five Mile Nazarene Church, this is Lacey how can I help you?
Me: Hi Lacey. My name is Amber. I am heading up a charity garage sale on August 1st and we are in desperate need of a venue to hold the sale.
Lacey: On August 1st. Hmmm. Let me check. Nothing on the calendar. That sounds great.
Me: *pause* So, we CAN use your parking lot?
Lacey: Well sure.
Me: Did you need to know who the sale is benefiting or more information?
Lacey: Oh yes. Tell me all about it.
I quickly explain the situation. Choosing my words carefully, sure that this phone call is too good to be true. Waiting for the but....
Lacey: Oh that sounds amazing. This should be a perfect location for you. A lot of trees for shade. We have plenty of sidewalk space to set tables up on. And we see a lot of traffic, so your sale should be a success. But, there is one thing.
I knew it. She needed my EIN number. She needed to see a copy of our non-profit's accounting for the last 5 years. She needed the golden locks of my first born.
Lacey: We actually just had our church garage sale last weekend and we have a bunch of stuff left over. Would it be okay if we donated it to your sale?
I wanted to reach through the phone and kiss her. But I'm not sure how the Nazarenes feel about that sort of thing, so I refrained. She didn't know me. She didn't know the back story. She had never heard of our couponing blog. She heard the word "charity" and knew the rest would work itself out. Because she did not work for a jaded company. She was not employed by a business that placed restrictions on serving others. She was serving her God. And her God might not be your God. And your God might be no God at all. Regardless, there is much to be learned from her faith.
I hope I always remember Lacey. On days I feel nervous to raise my daughters in such an evil, corrupt, unforgiving world, I hope I remember her unwavering belief in the goodness of people.
July 19, 2009
I need your help...
First, go HERE and read this post on my couponing blog. There is much more to the story than I shared there. But because I know and love you guys, I'll reveal a bit more. Not only has Crissie's husband lost his job this past year, but she also miscarried twins late term. That coupled with the fact that their second child passed away as an infant has left this family reeling.
I wanted to run right out and buy her the bike she so badly wanted, but times are tight for us too. So I came up with the (hopefully) brilliant idea of a HUGE garage sale. That is where you come in. If you are local, I need your stuff. Anything and everything would be appreciated (we would even take the kitchen sink!). Call me and I can come get it if you don't want to drive it the zillion miles out to my house!
Also, come to the garage sale. There will be plenty of steals and, as a bonus, I'm selling my famous chocolate chip cookies! It's not at my house, so I'll give directions. But mark your calendars for August 1st. I am hoping it turns out as I am envisioning it in my head!
I wanted to run right out and buy her the bike she so badly wanted, but times are tight for us too. So I came up with the (hopefully) brilliant idea of a HUGE garage sale. That is where you come in. If you are local, I need your stuff. Anything and everything would be appreciated (we would even take the kitchen sink!). Call me and I can come get it if you don't want to drive it the zillion miles out to my house!
Also, come to the garage sale. There will be plenty of steals and, as a bonus, I'm selling my famous chocolate chip cookies! It's not at my house, so I'll give directions. But mark your calendars for August 1st. I am hoping it turns out as I am envisioning it in my head!
July 12, 2009
Six quarters anyone?
Yes. It's true. That is what I paid for ALL of this (and more- you see we might have inhaled one can of Pirouettes in 3 seconds flat, so it is not pictured). Amazing what a $1.50 can buy (I saved $36.50!!). And why are you not couponing yet?ps. Again I say we do not live on junk. This week I also bought pears, lettuce, carrots, apples, oranges, etc. This particular shopping trip was just too cheap not to brag about. (Go HERE to see the breakdown)
July 03, 2009
Thirty, flirty and thriving
(A batch of cookies to the first person who correctly identifies that movie!)
It has been a great day. I have been a bit self conscious these last few days, but today I woke up and said, "I can have a Frankenstein scar and be mopey, or I can have a Frankenstein scar and be happy. Either way, I have a Frankenstein scar." So what did I do? I marched right back to my stylist, got my hair curled (I am aware I am single handedly supporting his family, but I haven't had a hair cut in 14 months so I feel justified splurging), dreamed about applying blush while dabbing on an extra coat of mascara and put on a little black dress and heels. I forgot all about that silly little scar......
Until I assembled this cast of characters who made me smile so much my cheek swelled up.
The whole gang at the Bonefish Grill. The calories don't count because it's my birthday, right?
Michelle and my future brother-in-law.
My step dad and my mom.
Vic (I still call him Jason. Sorry, old habits die hard) and Michelle.
Krista and Coy (although she never said it, I know she was secretly crushed when Jordan didn't jump out of a birthday cake).
Ray and Rachel (Ray, we are still fighting).
And the obnoxious balloons Rachel felt were very, very necessary (that I loved every bit of!).
Just for that, I'll make you pose with them:
I have the greatest people in my life. So to those of you who licked your plates clean with me in celebration, a huge thanks. And to those who are miles away and therefore missed out on all the fun, we missed you (but that just meant more Bang, Bang Shrimp for us!).
Oh and who can forget this guy:
Have I told you how much I love this kid? Oh I have? Well it's true. He manages to make me feel beautiful even when I have a huge "zipper" on my face (nice one, Mom).
And that completes my birthday post. I would write something mind-blowing and deep, using my newly acquired wisdom, but I am just so tired. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I'll just leave you with a link to my birthday post from last year. Remember the one when I ripped open and read the letter from 16-yr-old me to 30-yr-old me. Seeing as how I now have permission to read the contents, I'll send you back to take a peek.
ps. I kinda like being 30!
It has been a great day. I have been a bit self conscious these last few days, but today I woke up and said, "I can have a Frankenstein scar and be mopey, or I can have a Frankenstein scar and be happy. Either way, I have a Frankenstein scar." So what did I do? I marched right back to my stylist, got my hair curled (I am aware I am single handedly supporting his family, but I haven't had a hair cut in 14 months so I feel justified splurging), dreamed about applying blush while dabbing on an extra coat of mascara and put on a little black dress and heels. I forgot all about that silly little scar......
Until I assembled this cast of characters who made me smile so much my cheek swelled up.
The whole gang at the Bonefish Grill. The calories don't count because it's my birthday, right?
Michelle and my future brother-in-law.
My step dad and my mom.
Vic (I still call him Jason. Sorry, old habits die hard) and Michelle.
Krista and Coy (although she never said it, I know she was secretly crushed when Jordan didn't jump out of a birthday cake).
Ray and Rachel (Ray, we are still fighting).
And the obnoxious balloons Rachel felt were very, very necessary (that I loved every bit of!).Just for that, I'll make you pose with them:
I have the greatest people in my life. So to those of you who licked your plates clean with me in celebration, a huge thanks. And to those who are miles away and therefore missed out on all the fun, we missed you (but that just meant more Bang, Bang Shrimp for us!).Oh and who can forget this guy:
Have I told you how much I love this kid? Oh I have? Well it's true. He manages to make me feel beautiful even when I have a huge "zipper" on my face (nice one, Mom).And that completes my birthday post. I would write something mind-blowing and deep, using my newly acquired wisdom, but I am just so tired. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I'll just leave you with a link to my birthday post from last year. Remember the one when I ripped open and read the letter from 16-yr-old me to 30-yr-old me. Seeing as how I now have permission to read the contents, I'll send you back to take a peek.
ps. I kinda like being 30!
July 02, 2009
The new me
Sure, tomorrow is the big day and all. I'll officially only be 29 for 2ish more hours. But I feel all shiny and new. Mostly shiny because with the recent surgery, I have been unable to bathe or shower properly (as in, not at all). And that's the nice thing about reading this post from the comfort of your home, miles away from me and my stinkyness. So what do you do when you can't shower? Well you head on over to your favorite stylist and have him shampoo your hair. And probably have him cut it while he's at it. So, here is my shiny and newness (brace yourself, things are gonna get ugly):
The new do. See those love handles? Typically, Cora doesn't have to shove the bread stick in my mouth, as I am usually doing the shoving on my own. Ah, a moment on the lips.... (And yes, I know I'm not supposed to me smiling. But how can you not when someone is trying to feed you a bread stick.)
And up close. Again, forgive the no makeup, day-old mascara, I-can't-wear-any-moisturizer-or-powder-or-blush-for-2-weeks look.
And now without the bandages. See, that is Cora's terrified scream after the unveiling. Yep, I wanted to scream a bit too.
They assure me that my doctor is a pro, and once the stitches come out I will barely even notice the scar. Right.
But do you know what makes all the images of Frankenstein and the smell of cauterized flesh go away? This my friends:
A little get well present from Rachel (who, by the way, knew full well that I was under strict orders from my doctor not to smile or laugh). It's true. A Snuggie makes everything better. What? That's not their slogan? Well it should be.
So here's to the last post of my 20s. When I return to post again I will be a wise 30 year old who has 3 decades of experience to fuel posts. Things are gonna change around here (like the scale, once I have downed half a birthday cake!). Bring on the roaring 30s, er, or something like that.
The new do. See those love handles? Typically, Cora doesn't have to shove the bread stick in my mouth, as I am usually doing the shoving on my own. Ah, a moment on the lips.... (And yes, I know I'm not supposed to me smiling. But how can you not when someone is trying to feed you a bread stick.)
And up close. Again, forgive the no makeup, day-old mascara, I-can't-wear-any-moisturizer-or-powder-or-blush-for-2-weeks look.
And now without the bandages. See, that is Cora's terrified scream after the unveiling. Yep, I wanted to scream a bit too.
They assure me that my doctor is a pro, and once the stitches come out I will barely even notice the scar. Right.But do you know what makes all the images of Frankenstein and the smell of cauterized flesh go away? This my friends:
A little get well present from Rachel (who, by the way, knew full well that I was under strict orders from my doctor not to smile or laugh). It's true. A Snuggie makes everything better. What? That's not their slogan? Well it should be.So here's to the last post of my 20s. When I return to post again I will be a wise 30 year old who has 3 decades of experience to fuel posts. Things are gonna change around here (like the scale, once I have downed half a birthday cake!). Bring on the roaring 30s, er, or something like that.
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