I had a Plastectomy.

MisterKidd and I recently accomplished a feat that only a few adults ever will (and even fewer will ever want to). It took sweat, tears, crushed pride, and lots of NO, but we made it.

Except for the mortgage on our home, the Kidd family is debt free.

We don't owe any of you fools any money. We're square. We've cut up the cards (plastectomy), burnt the envelopes, and reallocated that income to bigger and better things. Our items are officially ours, we're finished borrowing them, and

we are never going back.

We shared this news with 1,500 of our closest friends last night and got a ton of feedback, so much that I decided to share a little about our journey so far (no, we're not finished yet) and give some practical tips. MisterKidd and I agreed that we wouldn't share in detail about our journey until we were completely finished, but I am realizing how big of an accomplishment this step is from all of the questions we've had today. I think it seems so far away for some of you, and I want to help you understand how attainable it actually is! You can do this!

We have always been money conscious people. We both come from families that taught us to work hard. My mama taught me that if you don't pay your bills early, they're late. Before, we were broke college students, then we got married and became a broke college student and a server at IHOP. Now, we are a SAHM and a non-profit worker. Fortune 500 has never been a part of our description.

Because of our "try hard" nature, I have always pushed myself to manage our money well and cut our expenses where I could. I have grocery shopping down to a science; we are conscious of our energy and water usage; we don't make large, frivolous purchases. But something just wasn't adding up. Money was slipping through the cracks somewhere every month, but I had no record of where it was going because we have always used cash (after over-drafting our checking account several times early in marriage).

We were so tired of living paycheck to paycheck. Our bills were always paid on time, but it seemed like we could not get a handle on our money. Then we began the home buying process and were forced to scrutinize our finances. Everyone involved, including us, wanted to know if we could actually afford to buy a house.

Enter: Dave Ramsey

I checked a book out from the library, and MisterKidd was given a copy of it. We stayed up late every night for a few days reading and talking and planning and getting angry at our debt. It was a magical time. 

That was six months ago. We are now on Baby Step Three of Dave Ramsey's Seven Baby Steps to Financial Freedom as outlined in his book, The Total Money Makeover. We're not even halfway through our goals, and I already feel like our financial life has been completely changed for good. There are only great things to come.

I don't want to repeat everything from the book and/or website that you could read on your own, so I will just share a few things that have really changed our viewpoint when it comes to our finances.

Debt is Debt.

If you have a loan from a bank for a car, truck, boat, house, business, or scooter, you are in debt. You have a thing that you use that belongs to someone else. If you have a credit card and you use it to pay for furniture, clothes, food, or toilet paper, you are in debt. You have a thing that you use that belongs to someone else. If that loan or credit card has interest of any kind, you are paying extra to borrow that thing until you finish paying for the thing. You are in debt. You might be $3000 in debt, you might be $85,000 in debt, but debt is debt. (This might be obvious to some, but it wasn't to us. Be encouraged if it wasn't to you, either.)

Debt is Bad.

Proverbs 22:7 says "...the borrower becomes the lender's slave." Before Christ, I was a slave to my sin and my flesh (Eph. 2:3). I did whatever my sin wanted, which was ultimately to destroy me. In Christ, I am to be a slave to no one but Him. Thankfully, he only wants my good (Romans 8:28). By being in debt, I am choosing slavery to someone or something else. I am saying that what I want right now (car, boat, house, furniture) is more important than the freedom Christ offers me in Him.

Romans 13:8 tells us to "owe no one anything, except to love each other..." WOW. Does Capital One count, Paul? I think it does. The only thing you should owe to another person is love. In our culture, our money and good credit are owed to us for our hard work, and our love is reserved as a gift. I think we've missed the mark on that one as well.

Don't Bible, Bro?** Let's explore "Debt is Bad" from a logical standpoint. You need a new car (or you feel like you might possibly want a new car), so you go to the dealership and pick out a brand new [insert car of your dreams]. You sit down at the desk with the guy, get approved for the loan, sign the papers, get the keys, and drive away. BAM. Your car is now worth half of what it was 20 minutes ago, and you will pay thousands more for it than the sticker price. 

It's called "interest," which makes it sound harmless, good even. I mean, it rhymes with Pinterest...but it should be called "the extra money you have to pay because you actually can't afford to buy this car." It's like a penalty for poor planning. 

Here's Dave's solution to the cycle of debt that is car buying.

Budgets are Essential. 

The old me thought that my "budget" was a list of my bills. We needed to bring in more than that number, and what was left over was just ours. I've learned that a budget must be zero-based to be effective; every penny must be accounted for and told where to go. I hadn't been doing anything close to that, so I was always left wondering where our money had gone. Now we have a strict budget and use that in conjuncture with the envelope system. The results are guilt-free purchases, personal discipline, and the ability to set and attain financial goals.



Later in the week, I'll post some of the actual myths and lies our ears have received about money management in the last six months, our plans moving forward, and maybe a word or two from my sponsor (MisterKidd) on how we plan to aquire things while remaining debt free. 


**Bro, you should Bible. Ask me anything.

#stopfacebookingyourperfectlife

Today was the first day of school for my Big Girl.

Yes, I can read a calendar. 

No, she didn't magically age three years overnight.

We are starting some "play with a purpose" now that Big Girl is two. She has breezed through recognition of upper and lower case letters with little effort on my part, so I know she is ready for more intentional learning. 

I have been researching, planning, and preparing for months, just waiting for her to be ready. I have dreamed about this day in great detail...

We would get up early and eat hearty, delicious, and frugal egg muffin cups from Pinterest for breakfast. Baby Sis would go down for her morning nap just after I finished the dishes so I could focus on Big Girl during "school time." After taking a "first day of school" photo by the chalk board, Big Girl (in her MudPie outfit and gigantic bow) and I would head downstairs to the designated schooling area of our house. We would then engage in age-appropriate and exciting learning adventures based on my carefully selected and slightly modified curriculum, which addressed language, math, fine-, and gross-motor skills. 

But that didn't happen. 

After staying up two hours too late getting my materials ready,

I was awoken 20 minutes after falling asleep by not one, but both girls, who proceeded to wake every few minutes for the next few hours. I lost all concept of time and woke for the day an hour after I had planned. I discovered a cranky Big Girl with a runny nose and a Baby Sis who was already napping. I was losing precious minutes of her naptime! I scrawled a "first day of school" flag on the board and begged Big Girl to stop crying long enough to take a decent picture ("I can't want to say keys!").

We helped Dad out the door just as Baby Sis was waking up 45 minutes too early. I decided to give up on the schedule I had planned for the morning. I made breakfast, which was rejected by my honest toddler, sat Baby Sis up with a new toy, and presented Big Girl with her brand new Tot Time Notebook.

The dry erase portion of the lesson started out ok...then she moved on to the binder, the lap tray, her hands, and her face. Big Girl 4, Mom 1.

We plugged through the rest of my plans fairly well, put Baby Sis down for her actual nap, and then headed to the garage for gross-motor time: Hop on Aa. This was a big hit--but it was mostly me carrying her from one A to the next!

Our first day of school lasted less than an hour total, including the time it took to rock Baby Sis back to sleep (twice). Tomorrow, I will modify and adjust some of our activities based on my reflection of today. Tomorrow, I still won't get it right, and that's ok.

God has given me the opportunity to be here with my girls every day, the knowledge to educate them, and the grace to look to him when I fail as a mom and a teacher. My messy-haired-Minnie-Mouse-pajama-wearing toddler, my unpainted and unswept garage, and my failed plans are not Pinterest-worthy.

It was the perfect day.

[Title credit to my sweet friend, Kerri, and her hashtag.]

I'm not gonna pretend I like the beach

Cruises are a big deal in the middle class right now. So is misusing prescription drugs, but I digress. Stereotype: middle-aged parents, teenage children, newly-weds, retirees trek to the coast from our landlock, board an insanely large vessel (Titanic is leaving Netflix this month--catch it before you book), float away to somewhere foreign, and instagram our brains out. I see these pictures and, depending on my mood, think either "how nice that you get to take a vacation" or

"I'm not gonna pretend I like the beach. Do you really like the beach? Sweat and sun and sand where not even daylight belongs. The salt wrecks my hair, the tan sunburn lasts a week, the shopping sucks. Don't pretend you like that t-shirt you paid $25 for that cost 50 cents to make. Why do we do this to ourselves, America? Is this to fulfill some weird desire to step outside your life here in the deltamountainsontheriver where you have to watch the news to know how to dress your kids tomorrow? Do you need to feel exotic? That's a lot of money you just promised to Capital One for some crappy instagram pictures. You can't really like the beach..."

Mister Kidd and I celebrated our wedding anniversary this week, and as usual, we spent a lot of time reflecting on our marriage.

[Implied Reader: But, weren't you just talking about the beach...? What's that have to do with your marriage?]

Hang on. I think I have a point around here somewhere.

Four years and two days ago, I became legally attached to the person I had been figuratively attached to for the four years before that. It was great and wonderful and fun to finally be able to have sleepovers with my best friend. The "honeymoon phase" was filled with so many new things. I thought, "If the first year is the hardest part of our marriage like everyone says, we'll be ok."

But over the past four years, we've learned that "everyone" don't really know what they're talking about. The hardest part of your marriage is not the first year, not a period of time at all. The hardest part of your marriage is fighting.


Fighting to love your spouse well.

Fighting for intimacy when you can't stand to see his stupid face anymore.

Fighting for joy when you want to take all the bill money and run away.

Fighting yourself and your pride when you want to rule him but you know it's his job to make the best decision for you, and he actually wants to, and he does. Every time, so far.

Fighting to keep him first in your heart after you create some people out of thin air and let them live inside you for the better part of a year.

Fighting to please God in your marriage rather than yourself. Or even him.


I've learned over the past four years of marriage (an eternity to some, a week to others) that the "honeymoon" not only doesn't end, but it doesn't even have to exist. You can always be enamored with each other. You can always be friends. You can always have the "spark." Culture doesn't think so, but culture wasn't told that it would be hard work, so it settled for unhappiness and unrest. It goes to the beach once a year for satisfaction, to feel fulfilled, renewed, young.

I have resolved to make the beach out of my little lot on a busy avenue in the suburbs. I don't have to board a ship to get that fleeting feeling of adventure and youth--I feel it every day at about 3p when I hear a truck pull in the driveway. I will seek God and choose to find my fun and rest in my husband.

But, y'all. Those towel animals. Am I right?

[Disclaimer: I am not condemning those who actually enjoy the beach as a vacation. I do challenge you, however, to make sure you actually like it and not just go because you think you should.]