Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News

On Why I Think Our Healthcare Costs So Much

A few weeks ago we made our final payment on the hospital bill from our son's visit to the local emergency room from May of 2018.  After a year of conversations with representatives from the hospital, other medical providers the hospital contracts with, our insurance company, and even our state's Attorney General office, we can finally put the matter behind us.  However, thinking about the entire experience continues to bring me unparalleled levels of frustration, and in my view indicative of why so many consider the healthcare system in the United States to be "broken".  And I wouldn't even consider our case to be particularly traumatic, especially given stories of what other people, and families, have had to go through in attempting to navigate the convoluted waters of medical billing.  

During my wife's benefit open enrollment in December of 2017, we decided to switch our health insurance to a high deductible plan with an attached health savings account.  We were done having kids (as previously discussed) and hadn't been to the doctor much in the past few years beyond our annual check-ups.  We figured what we might pay out of pocket for our few prescriptions and any unexpected doctor visits could be covered by the savings we would get from lower premiums and contributions to our HSA.  Of course we should have anticipated that making such a change would result in unanticipated trips to the doctor for a variety of things.  The most significant being a trip to the ER with our son.

I'll refrain from publicly calling out the health care organization whose medical facilities we typically use, but if you know where we live, you can likely connect the dots.  If you live in the same area, odds are high you utilize their services too, as we don't have many options, despite living in a metropolitan area of 200,000 people.  This is not to say that we've been dissatisfied with the service that we've received when seeing medical providers who practice under this particular organization.  We've always been impressed with the level of care the medical providers have given us, and particularly our children.  I've commented before that I'm tempted to write our children's pediatrician into our will.  Unfortunately, the experience of dealing with the financial side of providing that care has underscored how even our local health care organization contributes to the "broken" system so many people bemoan, while undermining the work of the dedicated professionals who actually provide care.

The whole reason our son ended up at the ER wasn't even a particularly exciting story.  He sustained a cut under his eye following a scooter injury.  And it wasn't even an epic fall, which one could have expected given how he had taken to flying around on that thing, given us mild panic attacks at times.  Instead, while he was attempting to turn around, his feet got tangled up in the scooter and he fell to the ground, with the end of the handlebar catching him right under the eye.  He was even wearing his helmet, since I'm not a completely negligent parent.

Initially, I even questioned if I should bring him in to get checked out.  He was awake and coherent.  The blood from the cut seemed to be stopping, and the sympathy cries from his older sister were actually louder than his own.  Like any good 21st century parent, I naturally hopped on WebMD to see what anonymous medical professionals from the internet suggested.  It seemed apparent that stitches would be a likely scenario if I took him in, but my research informed me that the main purpose of stitches was cosmetic.  Considering our new health insurance plan, and how much stitches might possibly cost, I pondered if it would really be worth it.  The more I read though, the more I feared the location of the cut might impact his vision.  A scar I could live with, compromising my son's vision because I was concerned about how much it might cost was something else.

So I opted to take him in^, his sobbing sister in tow.  But in effort to keep the cost of the trip as reasonable as possible, I decided to start with the pediatric walk-in clinic, which treated kids for a variety of things, minor lacerations included.  And when the pediatrician in the walk-in clinic recommended that we take him to the Emergency Room to be evaluated, I think he could sense my hesitation as he reiterated that they would be best able to look for damage to his eye sight, and that we should take him now - not tomorrow or whenever our next monthly contribution to our HSA was made.  

We would like to think that the potential cost of care would not make us reluctant to bring our kids in to be seen for illness or injury, but it certainly plays a factor.  There are countless stories of people forgoing care for themselves or their kids because of the anticipated costs of that care.  Even my wife, herself a medical provider who would do everything possible to ensure our kid's health and safety, including sacrificing her own well being (or more likely her husband's), rhetorically wondered aloud how much a trip to the ER was going to cost us.

Initially we thought we might come out "not bad".  One of the most frustrating things about health care in the US is that there is little transparency in the pricing.  Under a new rule from the Center for Medicare and Medicaid Services, hospitals are supposed to post their pricing online*, and as I've learned from our state Attorney General's Office, patients can request an estimate of what a procedure will cost before consenting to it.  Something to consider next time you are wheeled into the ER while bleeding profusely.  We anticipated that any trip to the ER would be expensive, especially given our high deductible, but when the doctor looked at our son, determined that he didn't need any further attention - no stitches or evals for potential head injury - and promptly discharged him, we figured it wouldn't be "as expensive".  Even though we really had no idea how much "expensive" and "not as expensive" would actually be.

We were about to find out though, as upon bringing our son back to the car, he threw up all over himself.  This sent my wife back into the ER with him to be readmitted (I had to head home with his sister to ensure his other sister wouldn't get off the bus from school to an empty house).  This time they suggested a CT Scan to check for possible head trauma.  Whether the doctor sensed any hesitation from my wife - based on the fact that CT scans emit some amounts of radiation or because they just sound expensive - he assured her that he would do the same for his own child.  Luckily the imaging came back negative, and when he was eventually discharged, we felt confident knowing that he would make a full recovery after being treated by competent and compassion providers.

Then the bills came.  I've read quite a bit about the current state of health care in the US, but I was still a little surprised when the first bill we got for our ER trip came not from the hospital, but an emergency physicians association.  When another bill came, again not from the hospital but from a regional radiology clinic, I realized that our local hospital, like many others throughout the US, contracts out a variety of its services.  Calls to the billing office at the hospital and these other entities, as well as our insurance, confirmed that this was the case.  When I pressed as to why the billing was done this way, each entity acknowledged that the process could be better streamlined, but indicated that billing in such a manner was "industry standard".

So when the bill from the hospital finally came, I was a little confused to see two charges for things that looked similar to what the other bills I had already; an emergency room charge and a radiology charge.  When I asked for a more detailed bill, I received one that now had three charges; two for emergency room fees (since he had been admitted twice) and one for the CT Scan.  When I informed a not-so-friendly patient financial services representative that I was having a hard time understanding our bill and didn't feel comfortable paying it, she told me to follow up with the medical records office - a process that takes 4-6 weeks to get medical records released.  When the records finally came, they provided an insightful, and at times humorous, narrative into the treatment our son received, but didn't shed any light on how that treatment translated into the charges on our bill.  Another not-so-friendly patient financial services representative (maybe it was the same one) made it clear that the bills we received from the hospital were the most detailed that they could send us, and we would have to decide if we felt the amount we were charged seemed reasonable.

While this process played out, I did some research.  I found out that the CT Scan they performed cost about 20% of the price the hospital negotiated with the insurance company - the cost we were being asked to pay in full because of the health plan we had, and because we had not hit our (astronomical) deductible.  I also found out that had we been uninsured, we would have been given a 40% discount on that price.  I also found out that it is considered insurance fraud, and subsequently illegal, to claim that you don't have insurance in effort to receive that discount.  And while the price comparison might not be exact, I also learned that a local imaging clinic would have charged us about 25% of what the hospital charged for the CT Scan, with the reading of that scan included.

Now, I know what you are thinking.  But there has to be a mark-up on a procedure, how else can they operate their facility.  Plus you went to the ER, the most expensive place to get care.  You can't really compare prices of a CT Scan at an ER with that of a scan at an imaging clinic.  Valid points.  But, given that there is no where else to compare your pricing, and only one ER in a 30 mile radius, that is where one would have to look to try to understand if they are being reasonably charged.  Couple this with the fact that the hospital is already charging an ER facility fee, and the doctor fees and radiology reading fees are billed separately, it doesn't seem like the procedure cost should be that much more expensive.  Yes, I would expect a mark-up, but a 5 time mark-up on a vulnerable audience, that seems, in the words of the medical director of the very ER we visited, "criminal".           

Now, I also know what you are thinking.  But that is the insurance plan you signed up for.  If you paid higher premiums, you'd have better coverage, and you wouldn't have to pay the full cost of the care.  Again, a valid point.  But this, in my view, is big part of why I think healthcare is so expensive in our country.  Even if I am not paying that amount out of pocket, I am paying for my insurance company to pay that amount for the procedure.  My insurance company can in turn, raise my premiums in subsequent years and reduce my benefits, as they typically do year after year, to cover the cost of this care.  If a procedure cost seems excessive to me, given what it costs a medical facility to do and given what you could potentially pay elsewhere, or what the facility would accept if you were uninsured (and presumably unable to pay full price or afford insurance), then I would hope it would seem excessive to my insurance company, who is supposed to be "negotiating in good faith" with medical providers on behalf of their customers.

What this boils down to is that once someone pays to much for healthcare, we all pay too much for healthcare.  Once an insurance company agrees to reimburse a certain amount for something, that sets the standard for what the procedure will cost, regardless of what insurance you do, or do not have.  And while we might paying varying out of pocket prices for that procedure, we all inevitably pay full price for that procedure.  Even when a facility offers a significant discount to someone who is uninsured, or is forced to accept a significantly lower reimbursement from Medicare or Medicaid, that cost is eventually dispersed amongst the remaining healthcare consumers, which is all of us.

I eventually paid the hospital bill.  But not all of it.  Taking the advice of one of those not-so-friendly Patient Financial Services Representatives, I made a payment of what I thought was reasonable, given the care our son received and the price of that care relative to its cost, and what seemed to me to be reasonable comparisons.  I agreed to pay what an uninsured patient would pay for the CT Scan -essentially the cash price, along with one of the ER Facility Fees#.  This came out to be about 60% of what our final bill was.  With my payment, I included a three page letter on why I believed that amount to be sufficient, and informed the hospital I would be happy to speak with someone if they did not agree with my explanation.  They processed my payment and I heard nothing from them, so I considered the matter closed.

Then I kept getting bills.  I followed up with them again.  Did they not see the letter?  Hard to assume given that my payment was wrapped up inside it.  A friendlier-than-the-last person I spoke with in Patient Financial Services indicated that there was no indication of them receiving the letter, and subsequently reading it.  So I sent it again (I should have been taking off money for postage by this point).  And then sent it again to someone in the Patient Advocacy Office, as well the Vice President for Billing, who might have read it (but it didn't seem like), but assured me that their billing procedures are accurate and I would continue to get bills until it ultimately went to collections.

Eventually I reached out to the Minnesota Attorney General's Office, a suggestion unknowingly made by someone in the hospitals Patient Advocacy Office (it was through that office, that I learned about the uninsured discount).  After a cordial, but relatively unproductive conversation, a representative from the AG's office contacted the hospital on my behalf, and we essentially repeated the negotiation process over the next few months, this time with him as an intermediary.  Eventually, the hospital offered to apply the self-insured discount for the remaining balance of the bill, bringing it down another 40%.  By this point I was ready to have the process behind us, and we paid the balance - no lengthy protest letters.

While this could be considered a (small) win for me personally, it likely won't provide any benefit to others who find themselves in a similar situation.  If the hospital is only willing to bill a (somewhat) more reasonable price when people challenge that price (rather extensively), it will have little effective on making health care billing more transparent and ultimately more affordable in my view.  I momentarily contemplated allowing the hospital to take me to collections, or maybe even sue me to collect the balance (as some hospitals have started to do to their own employees who can't pay their medical bills), but I knew the odds of any significant change coming about by my protests would be minimal (and likely much more costly on my end).  I also contemplated, despite all of my protests, just paying the full balance of the original bill as a kind of "reverse middle finger".

So to (finally) get to the point of my subheading, this is why I think healthcare in the US is so expensive.  Because it can be and we allow it to.  And the only way that we can push back against it is to be the problem customers who complain and challenge when bills seem excessive, which they typically always do.  This is not to say that providing healthcare isn't an expensive endeavor, or that we should expect life saving procedures to cost next to nothing.  But for a vast majority of our medical needs (and specifically needs as opposed to wants), we are beholden to what medical providers charge - and often times the people who are actually providing the physical care have little to no idea how much the services they are providing actually cost.  When we question charges, we assured that everything was billed correctly, which makes perfect sense, given that the people in that very office are the ones who determine what the cost will be.

I don't have a magic answer on how to make healthcare more affordable, or more effective, in this country.  And apparently no one else really does either, particularly the health care execs who are supposed to be the "experts".  But like a lot of things we gripe about, certain changes have to start with us.  As a whole, we don't do a very good job taking care of ourselves.  There is little coincidence that some of the top causes of death in the US are largely seen as preventable- heart diseases, certain cancers, diabetes, etc.  We have also created an environment that precipitates a decline in well being, while doing little to incentivize people to live healthier lifestyles.  As I mentioned in the midst of an intense, and somewhat alcohol fueled, discussion on healthcare this past weekend, no matter how healthy you try to be, your healthcare will always get more expensive.

But it is also up to us to push back on excessive charges and to demand transparency.  At times this might cause people to question our commitment to our health, or that of our loved ones.  However, there is a cost to the care that is provided, and just knowing that that care is going to be expensive, and possibly unaffordable, even with insurance, can lead to people rationing care for themselves or their loved ones as a consequence.  If it seems cold to inquire about the cost of a procedure for yourself or your child, and wonder about the necessity of that procedure, before it being done, than should we not be able to scrutinize those charges after we get them, at times months after the fact?  We shouldn't have to submit our excessive medical bills to media outlets in hopes that a public airing of those charges will result in a hospital drastically adjusting the bill.

Ultimately, I would like us to get to a point where people can get the care that they, or their loved ones need, without needing to worry about the financial consequences.  We should also allow medical professionals to provide the care that is necessary to help their patients without being concerned on how they will be compensated for that care.  We shouldn't live in a country where the number one reason people go bankrupt is related to a medical issue.  Nor should we live in a country where doctors commit suicide at double the rate of the rest of the public.  I believe that people would much rather be healthy, and would prefer avoiding receiving medical care as much as possible.  But this does not mean that they should avoid receiving it when they need it because they cannot afford it.

Does this sound like free health care for all, as one of my weekend conversation partners suggested?  Not necessarily.  We already spend so much per person on health care in the US that some argue we could cover the cost of care for most everyone, especially since a vast majority of those dollars are spent on a small number people.  Does that mean a more regulated system, that democratizes care across all Americans, regardless of their income levels?  Probably.  Does it mean health care rationing?  Possibly, but as we know, that already happens in our current system.  Does it sound expensive?  Absolutely, but so is our current system, and it certainly doesn't show any signs of getting better.

As parents we want our kids to be healthy.  We know we can't shield them from all pain, nor should we necessarily want to.  But when they get hurt, if it seems serious enough for them to be seen by a medical professional, we shouldn't feel hesitation because we are concerned about the cost.  When a trained medical professional suggests a certain type of treatment, we shouldn't have to contemplate what impact that might have on our finances.  Or when we see our health insurance premiums rise year after year, while our benefits dwindle, we shouldn't wonder how that might effect our ability to put food on the table. 

I don't have the answers, but I know those scenarios, which many of us have likely been in, are not the ones that we want.  Until those scenarios no longer exist, I will continue to advocate for more effective and affordable care for myself and my loved ones, and I will challenge and push back when I believe that is not the case.  I would encourage you to do the same.

I think his pride (what little a 4 y/o has) was hurt the more than anything else.
While he was very anti-selfie for the next few weeks, he was back on the scooter the next day.

Thanks for staying with it.  I know it got long.  I've read a lot (probably too much) about health care.  If you'd like to do the same, here are some additional resources I'd recommend. 

Catastrophic Care by David Goldhill 

An American Sickness by Elisabeth Rosenthal

If Our Bodies Could Talk by James Hamblin

Shots - Health News by NPR

VoxCare - Vox's Health Care Newsletter - Anything by Sarah Kliff (now with the NYT) or Ezra Klein is particularly insightful

Kaiser Family Foundation

               

^When you have a sick or injured child, "taking them in" tends to become shorthand for bringing them to be seen by a trained medical professional

*This came into effect at the start of 2019, so it wouldn't have helped us in May of 2018 for our particular visit.  I did find the information on hospitals website though, and the price list for procedures looks as though it was basically lifted from a medical coding textbook.  I challenged representatives in the Billing Office of the hospital to point out on the list what procedure our son had undergone.  I never got a response.

#The Emergency Physicians Association that provides the doctors for this particular ER had a policy of not billing for multiple ER visits in a given day.  This seemed to make sense to me, and I figured if the doctors the hospital contracted with did this, the actual hospital should do it to.   

Running Down a Dream

He's Going the Distance

If you are an occasional reader of this blog or know me personally, you may know that I am not one to shy away from masochism.  About three years ago, I wrote about how four years prior to that I was in the midst of training for a marathon.  It was my second foray into such stupidity as I had barely finished my first seven years prior to that, and promptly swore I would never attempt another.  Well, the seven year itch struck again, and this past fall I found myself clicking the submit button on an online registration for a 50 mile endurance run.  Yep, I figured if I'd already finished two marathons, albeit seven years apart, the next logical thing to do would be to attempt to run almost two full marathons in one sitting (or standing, or mostly death marching as they call it in the ultra world).

Attempting an ultramarathon had been on my list of things to do for a while.  I originally thought I could just jump into a 100 miler (arguably the standard distance when someone mumbles "ultra"), but sensibly figured a 50 would be a good place to start.   Recognizing that I am certainly not getting "Younger Next Year" (despite the title of the most recent book I read) and given that our youngest started a few mornings of preschool this past fall, giving me about five hours of "free" training time during the week, I figured there was no time like the present.  I had also watched/read some pretty inspiring documentaries/books (listed at the bottom), which confirmed that I was sufficiently crazy enough to drop a couple of Benjamins on a race entry and all subsequent supplies.

As an avid runner for the past 21+ years, I've come to appreciate the act of running for the role it plays in my life.  I wouldn't say I love running, but I love the way I feel after a good run.  I love how it challenges me but allows me a certain amount of release at the same time.  Running has become as beneficial for my emotional health as it has for my physical health.  While I haven't always actively trained for a particular run or race, I've also found it important to carve out some time to run a few days a week.  It makes me a better person.  I also love how running long distances allows me (questionable) justification to eat whatever I want with relative reckless abandon.

Naturally, training for an ultramarathon took an excessive amount of time.  The five hours of kidless time each week obviously wasn't going to be a sufficient amount of training time, no matter how many "Low Mileage Ultramarathon Training Plans" I Googled.  In reality, the training wasn't significantly different than training for a marathon, with the exception of what is commonly referred to as the "block run".  This usually means instead of doing your typical long run once a week like you would for marathon training, you do that long run, and then do it again (or as much as you can handle) the next day.  The premise of the training is that you should never run the full amount of your ultra, but you should get pretty close over the course of two days.  Training for a marathon, and especially an ultra, becomes essentially a part time job, and you start to wonder what other things you could have been doing with that time.

It can certainly be hard to justify taking that amount of time to engage in any particular pursuit, especially if you have a family that is feeling the brunt of your training.  I knew though that the training would be temporary, and the run itself would eventually come and go.  As a good friend, and decorated ultrarunner counseled me, you have to make sure your family is on board, because the training will take a lot out of you, and it will dictate a big chunk of your life.  My wife, as you all know, is amazing and selfless and tolerates most of my bullshit, and the kids seemed rather apathetic to the notion of dad running excessive distances.  They actually learned during my training that it probably worked to their advantage, as my need to try and get in a midweek run often meant some quality time for them with their favorite babysitter - the television.  I found turning on the TV for them if I was going to spend some time on the treadmill was significantly easier to justify than most of the other reasons I turn the TV on for them - all of which revolve around my laziness.

 So after six months of pounding the pavement, and the trails (and the occasional dreadmill), I was excitedly anticipating the run while also looking forward to the end of my training.  I wrapped up my training with the longest run/jog/walk I'd ever completed in my life, all on muddy and snow covered trails and a third of it in relatively terrifying darkness, and was ready for my taper - which included four kidless days with my wife in New Orleans for a friend's wedding.  As the run itself approach, I did my best to stay busy by preparing race logistics and marveled at how a few consecutive days of not running was actually diminishing the constant soreness in my legs.  It felt like I was actually get the bounce back in my step.  Just as I was as ready to become a dad I was was going get on November, 19, 2010, I was as ready as I was going to get for a 50 mile run.

And then the Minnesota winter scoffed at all of us, and especially the 900+ runners who signed up for one of the Zumbro runs.  Comparable to 2018, which resulted in the cancellation of the 17 mile run of the Zumbro, an April blizzard descended onto most of the state of Minnesota, and the race directors, after much consideration and deliberation, made the decision to cancel all three of the Zumbro races (100, 50 & 17) out of concern for the runners and volunteers.  Six months of training, 500+ miles of running, millions of calories burned (and probably more consumed), and no actual race to run.  Obviously I was disappointed, but given that the weather was the cause of the cancellation, and not my decision to pull out because of injury or anxiety, made it a little easier to take.  The race director detailed the thoughtful and difficult decision to cancel the run in a lengthy email explanation, and we still got the race shirts, which I wore for a week straight*.

Of course I didn't feel like the training went to waste.  One of my biggest fears about getting old is losing the ability to engage in the pursuits that I love, or ones that I mildly enjoy and know are good for me.  The most recent book I read, Younger Next Year, stresses the importance of engaging in physical activity nearly every day if you want to live a good long and health life.  The authors see the art of aging as choosing to grow, by being vigilant about your health through exercise and healthy eating, or decay.  We can't stop the fact that we will get older, but we can continue to do the things we enjoyed doing in our younger years if we commit to actively pursuing a healthy lifestyle.

My kids have certainly added some extra motivation for trying to remain physically capable.  As they've gotten older, it has been fun to engage in some of the various recreational activities I really enjoy doing, and watching them starting to "get it".  It makes me excited for the time in the not so distant future; when we can play catch in the backyard, hit the tennis ball or play some one on one hoops at the courts, follow each other through the trees on the double black diamonds, etc.  Secretly, I have a (like unattainable) goal to always be BFS (bigger, faster stronger) than our kids.  And not just for a sense of vanity - I've long given up on any pursuit toward six pack abs (to my wife's chagrin).  But more out of a desire to hopefully always be able to keep up with them, and maybe push them a little.  I will obviously always be their "old man", but I don't necessarily have to play like one - at least when it comes to being active.

I've also discussed in the past what I think is an important part of modeling healthy behaviors, and how I feel it is important for my kids to see me doing things that I enjoy and at times struggle with.  I hope this shows them a small amount of hard work and dedication to things that they are passionate about and find joy in doing is most certainly worthwhile.  If they gravitate toward being runners (and I hope they do), or any of the other leisure pursuits I really enjoy (of which there are many), that's great.  But I will let them find their own path.  Should they ever want to run a marathon and need a pacer, I want to be ready and up for the task, no matter my age.  Now that our four year old recently learned how to ride his bike without training wheels, I'm already plotting routes for our family cross country bike trip (pedal bike).

So that is why I at times put my own body through the ringer - to try and stay healthy so I can keep up with the kids and hopefully live a long life, while also trying to model some healthy behaviors of engaging in things that I love.  I recognize that it takes some time and commitment, and that might mean spending a little less time with them to engage in the things that bring me joy.  But I figure if I take the time now to stay healthy and happy, I will hopefully have more time with them in the future, and more quality time when I can actively be a part of their lives and share in the pursuits that bring them joy.

Will I attempt another ultramarathon?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  After my race was cancelled, I realized that after all of my training, I was pretty certain I could have completed 50 miles.  It might not have been pretty, and I likely wouldn't have finished in the arbitrary time goal that I set for myself.  But just knowing that I could have willed myself through it was an accomplishment enough - not to forget about the number of miles I logged over the six months, or the fact that I actually completed a couple of ultramarathons during my training^.  For now I've been taking a little running break.  Enjoying some additional quality time with the family, and tamping down a little bit on the kids' screen time (just a little).

I believe that whenever we try to better ourselves - whether through improving our physical health, mental or emotional health, or even our financial health - those attempts are never in vain, no matter if we reach our intended goal or not.  We always learn something along the way, and for those of us who are parents, things we can pass along to our kids - hard work, perseverance, band-aids over the nipples, etc.  For our kids to see us try, and either succeed, fail or not be able to complete our goal due to extenuating circumstances, and observe how we respond to that outcome can be a powerful motivator for them.  It may encourage them to try and make their dreams be more than just dreams.

Picture taken immediately following Isla and my first ever daughter-father run. 
It was 2 mile glow run of which she ran almost half (impressive for a 4 y/o).
We walked a bit and I piggybacked her occasionally

*It's not uncommon for me to wear shirts, or other clothes for a week at a time.

^Technically, an "ultra" is considered anything longer than 26.2 miles.  During my training, I did 30 and 34 mile runs/walks/jogs/death marches - neither were glamorous, but I was at least able to walk the following day.                   

Inspirational Readings/Viewings on Ultrarunning & Other Nonsense

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Born To Run - Christopher McDougall

Eat and Run - Scott Jurek

Ultramarathon Man - Dean Karnazes

Mindful Running - Mackenzie L. Havey

My Year of Running Dangerously - Tom Foreman

What Doesn't Kill Us - Scott Carney


Film

"The Barkley's Marathon - The Race That Eats It's Young"

"The Barkely's Marathon - Where Dreams Go to Die"

"How To Run 100 Miles"

"Breaking 2"

"The Rise of the Sufferfests"

You Say It's Your Birthday?

After All My Plans, they Melt into the Sand

I made another trip around the sun a few weeks ago (actually, it was a month ago by now).  Staying in form with the other "monumental" days that have already passed this year in our house; our wedding anniversary, Valentine's Day, etc., it was pretty low key.  It landed on a Thursday, which you may be aware is a "dance night" in our house this year.  It also happened to be "dance picture night", which added some extra chaos and required additional adult supervision throughout the evening.

Thus, my "birthday dinner" was self made* and enjoyed in the company of our Colombian teaching intern who is staying with us this year.  Two of our three kids where around, but they were relatively oblivious to the significance of the day, and had zero interest sitting at the table to watch us eat as they had already consumed their "fast food"^.  I at least made myself a steak (which is ironic because I'm not a huge steak-eater) and enjoyed a glass of red wine.

Growing up I always eagerly looked forward to my birthday.  I would usually have a hard time sleeping the night before, eagerly awaiting what gifts might be given that following morning in celebration of my birth.  I vividly remember a birthday growing up, maybe when I was 10 or so (okay, maybe not so vivid), when my whole family seemed to forget it was my birthday.  I remember being so upset, until they eventually surprised me with tickets to a Minnesota Timberwolves basketball game that evening.  I still look forward to my birthday.  As much as I would like to say it is just another day on the calendar, it certainly feels nice to be well wished and maybe pampered a little, even if just for a day.  Everyone deserves that on occasion.  Even you.

As we get older, we may naturally look at our birthdays with a certain amount of dread.  Recognizing that we are getting older, possibly at our nearing another milestone of old age, and that much closer to kicking the bucket.  Officially reaching the backside of my 30s, it is a salient concept for me.  The gray hairs are prominent, while the total amount of hair is thinning (on my head at least).  My body aches more, in more places, for inexplicable reasons.  Those facts of life don't always make us keen to want to celebrate.  

Something I really seemed to grasp (appreciate/accept) this year though, was the fact that my birthday isn't really about me anymore.  It's about taking stock of the existing presents in my life; my family and my friends, my health, my stunning good looks.  These are the things that make me look forward to having a birthday and celebrating another year of life.  It's certainly cliche to say, but the best gift I can receive on my birthday is the opportunity to continue to be apart of the lives of the people I love, especially my wife and kids.

For that gift to keep on giving year after year, I think you have to recognize that the giving of your love to the people you love returns love to you in greater quantities.  Most all of us feel good when we've done something nice for someone else.  I know I do.  For me, it is just easier to be kind of people, but it also makes me feel better when I'm kind.  And, I like to feel good.  Given that we've just celebrated Easter, if you follow Christian teachings, it doesn't seem coincidental that Jesus was both the happiest and most self sacrificing individual.  I'm guessing the same holds true for the major prophets/players in the other main religions.  

And this giving of ourselves to others, especially those who mean a lot to us, might actually helps ensure that we will have numerous birthdays to celebrate in the future.  Coincidentally,  I just finished reading the book, Younger Next Year by Chris Crowley and Dr. Harry Lodge.  While it focuses primarily on the things you need to do from a health and fitness standpoint to live a good long, and active life, the final chapters are dedicated to a person's emotional well being.  The authors, particularly the one with a medical degree, stress of the importance, especially in old age, of mattering to others.  Having connection and commitment to things beyond our own self interest strengthens our limbic brain, which typically corresponds with a longer span of life.  

A few years ago, a good friend and I sat a bar and questioned the reason why, as we aged, we had started to seemingly sabotage our own happiness by adding responsibilities to our lives like spouses, kids, houses, jobs, etc. (I had all four of these, he only had a job).  We observed that these things had a tendency to get in the way of what we typically lived in pursuit of during our younger years; namely, sex, drugs and rock and roll.  But as I exchanged emails with this same friend a few months, congratulating him on joining the Jerome Bettis club, he expressed his contentment with accepting the fact that we were no longer rockstars, and likely never were in the first place.

We get to that point in our lives, particularly when we become spouses and parents, when we realize that it's not all about us.  At least not all the time.  We see things in the broader context of our place as it relates the to world around us and particularly in relation to those who are closest to us.  We see how we can play a role in their happiness, even if that means sacrificing our own happiness from time to time.  I believe this is what the kids these days call "adulting".  When I had lunch with my Mom for her birthday a few weeks after my own, I shared with her that I now "got it".  I understood why she, and my Dad, were so quick to make things about my sister and I and not them, even their own birthdays.

So on my birthday, my family gave me the gift of being able to play a role in contributing to our collective familial happiness.  Which, on this specific birthday, meant staying out of the way.  It felt good to not add an unnecessary stress to and already stressful day by insisting that things be centered around me.  My family might have felt a little bad, or maybe just my wife, that my birthday seemed to go overlooked, but it was a perfect way to celebrate.  And my body, particularly my liver, felt incredibly better the following day.

Given the trajectory of our lives, the chance of my birthday next year being just as exciting as this year is pretty high.  Although, it is on a Saturday next year which might be on a dance competition weekend - then it might get really crazy.  But the chances of me having another birthday next year are pretty high (statistically speaking at least).  If celebrating my birthday every year means making the celebration more about others and less about me in order to ensure that I will have numerous birthdays to come, it's a sacrifice I am willing to make.  There will likely come a day again, when my birthday becomes all about me, even though I'd rather have it not be.  By that time, I'll be so old and senile I probably won't even remember that it actually is my birthday.

I'm pretty certain this was my birthday last year.

  

        

*When my wife mentioned to our 8 year old that she felt bad that I had to make my own birthday dinner, her response was; "But Mom, he likes making dinner."

^We don't eat a lot of traditional fast food in our house - McDonald's, etc.  We do eat on the run a lot though, and a friend once told me they refer to those meals in the vehicle consumed en route to something as "fast food".  I liked the term, so naturally hijacked it.

And Today Was a Day Just Like Any Other

Turn and Face the Strange

My wife and I had a kid-free night out in the big city a couple of weekends ago.  We went out for dinner, met up with some friends for cocktails, and enjoyed some live music.  We stayed up later than we should have and slept in (for us at least).  It had been a while since we had a chunk of kidless time together, and it was somewhat nostalgic of our days before offspring.  It wasn't even to mark any special occasion, the stars just aligned to get together with some friends, and the grandparents were clamoring for some quality "grandkiddo time".

Two days into 2019, my wife and I had our 10 year wedding anniversary.  To celebrate the occasion, we dropped one of our kids off at her dance class and convinced grandpa that his evening would be best spent hanging out with the other two - it didn't take too much convincing.  We savored that 90 minute kid-free session with dinner at a nondescript Mexican restaurant (we had gift cards) and passed on the margaritas (we were working on our beach bodies for an upcoming trip to Mexico).  When our 90 minutes were up, we picked up our daughter from dance class and returned to our originally scheduled programming.

As your marriage lengthens and kids (and other responsibilities) get added to the mix, stereo-typically designated "romantic occasions" have a tendency to become very less so.  If our 90 minutes out to commemorate our 10 year anniversary seemed a little lack luster, it was monumental in comparison to what we did for Valentine's Day.  Which was nothing.  In fact, we had actually both being recovering from some minor ailments (stomach bug, head cold), so the very thought of doing anything mildly romantic seemed somewhat repulsive at the time.  Plus Thursday nights are tough.  It's a dance night (one of them).

Like February 14th, January 2nd is a day on the calendar.  For my wife and I it holds special significance as our wedding anniversary.  But for everyone else who didn't get married on that day or have a birthday on that day^, it's just another day on the calendar.  Which, thanks to the Romans, in 2019 - 10 years after my wife and I said "I Do" - happened to be a Wednesday.  Naturally neither of us had the foresight to consider what day of the week our "monumental" anniversaries might fall on in the future when we picked a date for our wedding.  Given that we selected a day in January in Minnesota, obviously shows how much thought we put into the decision. 

 
My wife and I have been married for 10 years, and while the love we share today is exactly the same as the love we shared when we said our vows, it is also very different.  That is the case because we've changed as individuals over these past 10 years, as has our family dynamic and the nature of our relationship.  While we are the same people who stood holding hands trying to recite our vows while holding back tears (one of us at least), the experiences that we have had as a couple, and now as a family have changed the way we love each other, and the life that we've made together.

I was reminded of this during the parenthetically aforementioned trip to Mexico that we saved our margaritas for.  We went for my sister-in-law's wedding, where, for five days, we lapped the life of all inclusive luxury, and were able to be apart of one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever experienced.  Given that it was their aunt getting married, the kids came with, and considering that it was January, and we were escaping sub-zero temps in Minnesota (only to return to those continual sub-zero temps), it was an unforgettable experience.

It was also quite different than our last trip to a beach resort in Mexico, for a number of reasons.  And for those reasons alone, it was an absolutely incredible trip.  Of course we were looking forward to a break from winter, soaking up the sun, and enjoying a few poolside cocktails.  But that wasn't the focal point of this trip.  The focal point was celebrating my sister-in-law and her husband, while being able to spend quality time with my wife's family and making some unique memories with our kids.  Lounging all day by the pool, sipping bottomless margaritas, clubbing at Senor Frogs until the wee hours of the morning, and sleeping past noon were very far down on the to-do list, if on it at all.

As I listened to the bride and groom exchange incredibly personal and heartfelt vows during a beautiful ceremony overlooking the the Cabo San Lucas marina, I couldn't take my eyes off of my wife.  She looked as stunningly beautiful as she always does standing by her sister's side.  Of course they both looked stunning, but naturally I'm biased (sorry Mel).  We've talked at times, usually in jest, about renewing our vows, and while they would be quite different ten years later, they would still be very similar.  Partly because I have absolutely no recollection of what those vows actually were.

In our ten years of marriage our relationship has changed as we've changed as people and our family has grown to encompass our children.  Some of the passion and excitement has certainly faded, but it has been supplemented with other feelings and emotions.  Our love might look different in its nuts and bolts than it did ten years ago, or twenty years ago when we first verbally expressed those feelings to another (for the record, I said it first).  But that love is still rooted in a deep commitment and respect for one another, that recognizes a place and time for each of those emotions.  It is, to borrow a line from Macklemore, the "same love".

A wedding is an amazing celebration of two people, their love, and their future together.  But everyday in a marriage can't be a wedding.  Every trip to Mexico, or other exotic location, won't always feel like a honeymoon.  Every anniversary can't always involve wine, chocolate fondue and rose petals on the bed - even the big ones that seem like they should.  But that is life, and the fact that those momentous occasions don't happen every day helps to understand their importance, but also put them into perspective.  For they are days, albeit big ones, in the journey of our life and the relationships that are built.  Those days are important, but so is every other day and moment in between.

As we get older (wiser/more mature?), I think it becomes easier for us to understand (rationalize?) this.  We learn how to experience love and express love in the smallest of things that happen on a daily basis.  The things I love about my wife now might seem different on the surface, but I love those things for the same reasons I loved other things about her when I asked her to marry me.  Her presence in my life, along with our kids, brings me unparalleled amounts of joy and happiness (and at times frustration).  But my life is still unquestionably better with her, and them, apart of it, no matter the circumstances.

When we learn to find love in those everyday, in between moments, our capacity for love increases.  It has to.  For we are not waiting for those "special occasions"; anniversaries, birthdays, administrative professionals day, to express our love or allow ourselves to experience love from others.  True, it is easy for those moments to go over looked, as it is an irony that the more we tend to be loved, the more we can overlook that love.   At times we need those refreshers; an anniversary, or a "Hallmark Holiday".  For me, weddings always seem to serve as a helpful reminder of the love I felt for my wife on our wedding day, and how I can do a better job of expressing that love on a daily basis.

But given the option of feeling consistent and constant love on a daily basis, or only "feeling the love" when the big days come around, I think most of us would choose the former.  We all express love in our own unique way, and to make a relationship last, we have to find the way that works for us and the one we love.  It's not based on the way other couples love each other, although it can be helpful to understand what you admire about other people's love and try to emulate it in your own relationship.  But we all change over time, as will those around us, which will impact those relationships that we've made.  If we embrace those changes, and look for the good things that those changes bring about, those relationships will continue to grow in love.

One of the couples we were able to get together with during our adult night out has had very different marital experience than my wife and I.  For a variety of reasons, they do not, and I'm guessing won't have any kids.  They both are very successful in their professions, which require significant time and energy commitments.  They love to travel, as we do, and we were listening with envy as they recounted some experiences from a trip they took a Greece a few years ago (somewhere my wife and I are hoping to go for a anniversary trip this coming fall).  The owner of the hotel in which they stayed would often exclaim to them, "This is life!"  Our friend was pretty certain he meant to say, "This is the life!", but something got lost in translation.  But in my mind, the saying fits.  "The life" is what you make of "life".  At times it will definitely feel more like "the life" than others, but it will always be life.     

Cabo 2019

Puerto Vallarta 2010
(The precursor to this family business)

 




^Since the Mexican restaurant we went to gives you a free dinner on your birthday, it was actually a pretty hopping place.

This Family's on Fire

#fiveonfire

I started working on this post in (early) November, but given the craziness of this time of year, naturally just got around to finishing it.  Along with the start of the Holiday season, November begins birthday season in our house, with our oldest and my wife celebrate birthdays just before Thanksgiving.  On the same day, in case you weren't aware.  The festivities continue into December with our other two kids celebrating birthdays right in the midst of other holidays taking place.  

This year, November was extra special in our house because it happened to be a "bonus paycheck month", something my wife and I look forward to excitedly considering how much we geek out about personal finance.  Oh, and November was also Movember or No Shave November, which gave me an excuse to be additionally lazy and not shave.  And then subsequently do this to my facial hair.

My sister made a $210 donation to the Movember Foundation
so I could look like this until December 21st. 
Aren't older siblings great!?!

Bonus paycheck month was a phenomenon we became aware of when we started working jobs that provided us steady paychecks (or direct deposits) every two weeks.  Despite being anal retentive when it comes to tracking our finances, we had overlooked the fact that while we typically budget by the month, there are 26 biweekly pay periods in a year (52/2 for those who struggled in math class).  Overlaid over twelve months, which typically just have two paydays, we realized that two months of out every year would actually have three paydays that we neglected to figure into our monthly accounting.  Hence us affectionately titling them as "bonus paycheck months".  At first it felt a little like landing on Free Parking in Monopoly.

When I "retired" more than four years ago, the financial piece of our life puzzle obviously received a lot of review.  Whenever we (likely all of us) question whether we are able to do something that will significantly impact our lives - take a trip, buy a house, quit our jobs etc. - the most common question is if we can afford it, financially speaking.  When I decided to leave my paid employment to stay home with the kids, a number of people pointing out the savings of not having kids in daycare.  Fortunately, I had a financially lucrative enough job where working, even with three kids in daycare, would have been a net positive for our bottom line.  Thus deciding to stay home with the kids made us examine how we could scale back some of our other expenses to make it feasible.

Like probably 101% of the rest of the working world, my wife and I are eagerly looking forward to the day when we can actually retire.  And not in the way that I commonly utilize the term.  Like a number of other working professionals in their mid-30s, we've become increasingly intrigued by the FIRE Movement, which stands for Financial Independence, Retire Early (for those who don't follow the numerous FIRE blogs).  The concept can take on a number of different looks, but the underlying premise is to get to a point, preferably sooner than later, when you have amassed a savings where the annual rate of return would cover your annual living expenses.  This makes you financially independent from paid employment and you can choose to work if you'd like, but aren't dependent on a paycheck to cover your day to day operating budget.  To reach this magic savings number, more or less those numbers people carried around in that ING Commercial, you can increase your earnings, decrease your expenses or a combination of both.  Hit that magic number, and you're considered "on FIRE", just like draining three straight shots in NBA Jam.

While the FIRE Movement has become a more recent phenomenon, and is particularly popular with a certain subset of Millenials (kids these days....), the concept is certainly not novel, and the "FIRE Movement Bible", Your Money or Your Life by Vicki Robin, was originally published in 1992.  In the book, Robin views our relationship with money as ongoing transactions of our life energy.  When we work, we are exchanging our life energy for the compensation that we receive for doing that job (and, as Robin notes, likely not accurately accounting for all of the other things that go into our job that also take our life energy).  When we use the money we are trading the life energy for the product or service that we purchase.

If you find yourself adhering, or attempt to adhere to the FIRE Movement, a natural phenomenon is an intense scrutiny of your finances.  In her book, Robin encourages those interested in reaching an early Financial Independence to track every single cent that goes in and out.  This provides a basis for which you can better understand how much money you earn, where that money all goes, and how you can make the appropriate changes to reach FI (financial independence) as soon as possible.  It's a daunting task, and can seem downright insurmountable if you are in the midst of raising children and continually assaulted by the child-rearing industrial complex that begins during pregnancy, continues from infancy, and exacerbates into emerging adulthood - a development phase that seems to get longer and longer.

Most parents are familiar with the oft-cited statistic that it costs on average north of $250,000 to raise a child from birth to age 18, not including any educational expenses.  In reality, barring any major medical expenses, raising a child can cost as much or as little as you want it to.  But it will certainly cost at least something - that $250k figure is considered basically the essentials; food, shelter, clothing, etc.  Some FIers, like one of my personal favorites who sports facial hair to compliment his financial blog name, suggest waiting to start a family until you reach financial independence.  If you are hoping to raise your kid(s) on the more cost effective side (a polite way of saying cheaply), it will take some intense and constant push back against the normative culture of conspicuous consumption that is constantly among us, and shines particularly bright this time of year.  And not necessarily in a good way.

As a free willed adult, bucking the "earn, spend, repeat" cycle isn't too hard to do, if its something you think will be beneficial to your general well being.  My own personal foray into the world of frugality, voluntary simplicity, minimalism, forced poverty, whatever you want to call it, stemmed heavily from my semester abroad in college.  Having amazing experiences while living out of a backpack, cycling the same few material items on a daily basis, helped me realize that there is much more to life than the acculturation of stuff.  I returned from that semester vowing to avoid owning anything nice enough that someone would want to steal.  As I've transitioned to parenthood, this notion seems in line with the idea of not being able to have nice things because your kids will inevitably break them or color on them with permanent marker - like our middle child just did to the back seat of our van a few weeks ago.

Explaining a radical concept like this to kids though, or trying to help them understand why the adult figures in their life are so obsessed with maximizing the personal value of their expenditures, provides its own unique opportunities and challenges.  Adolescence is essentially defined by comparing yourself to others, and a bulk of those comparisons revolve around socio-economic status.  Even though most kids (and probably a fair number of adults) likely have a hard time defining what "socio-economic status" is, they can certain recognize who wears the brand name clothes, whose parent drives the new car, and who lives in the biggest house, while consequently assigning values of coolness and popularity based on those observations.  The notion of defining your self worth in comparison to others grows with us into adulthood and sets the stage for the struggle of "Keeping up with the Jones" or the Kardashians, or whatever the last name is of the family everyone you know seems to materially aspire to.

The underlying concept of Financial Independence, as per Robin and other FI advocates, is to establish a better relationship with money.  One where your money works for you, as opposed to you working for your money at a job that sucks more of your life energy than you are willing to give.  While the FIRE movement might have the words Retire Early in the acronym, the notion is to really allow us the financial freedom to expend our life energy however we feel most satisfying.  This might be working a traditional job, it might be volunteering, it might be sitting on a beach drinking Mai-Tais if you so choose.  While sitting on a beach enjoying cold beverage sounds like an ideal retirement, and really wouldn't require a lot of savings to sustain, most people would recognize that you can only do that for so long.

For my wife and I, one of our main impetuses for trying to reach an "earlier-than-we-originally-expected" financial independence is to have more flexibility to make memories and build relationships with our kids, each other, and those who are meaningful to us.  While we were certainly not financially independent when I "retired", it was a similar thought process.  Adjusting our financial needs to allow us to live the life we wanted to live, while continuing to plan for the future who hoped to have.  We are incredibly fortunate that my wife's compensation allows us to live a more than comfortable lifestyle while also considering a concept like early financial independence.  We could take a much more aggressive approach to catching FIRE, and we personally know others who have, but we've consciously made decisions to live well within our means while also placing value on what is important to us as a family.  Hopefully hashtags will still be a thing when we finally do get to use the clever one my wife thought up, which serves as the subtitle of this post.  

In striving for financial independence, I hope that we are modeling a healthy relationship with money for our kids.  Helping them to establish an early pattern of saving, and sharing, what they earn (through chores or lost teeth) and consciously thinking about every purchase they make and how it impacts their financial future.  We're not reviewing profit and loss spreadsheets or making them understand the components of compound interest (yet, at least), but we try to be open about our finances, and money in general, as much as we can to hopefully help them understand its finite-ness, as well as the positive and negatives that come along with earning it and spending it.  As challenging as it is for adults to grasp the notion of delayed gratification, especially given that the average American carries approximately $6,000 of credit card debt, I hope our kids develop healthy financial habits early in life that will continue into adulthood - and likely make them less financially dependent on us when they are out our their own.

I recognize that one of the main reasons we as a family can even consider a concept like an "earlier than stereotypical financial independence" is that both my wife and I were blessed to have parents who worked hard to provide for their families, while subsequently modeling healthy financial behavior.  Anyone can achieve financial independence (and hopefully all of us do at some point in our lives), but we certainly started in a much better place than those who struggle to cover the essentials - food, shelter, etc.  Neither of us came from particularly wealthy families, but our parents worked hard to provide what they could, while laying a framework for us to be better off economically than they were if we followed their examples of hard work.  They clipped coupons and patched up our clothes.  They saved for us to pursue educational opportunities that would allow us to find gainful employment. They sacrificed so that we could have the chance at a better life than they did.  This privilege is certainly not lost on us, and it's a particularly salient point for me, as my parents are closing in their own retirement dates at the end of this month after 40+ years of working to provide for my sister and me.

For those who were not provided that same level of privilege during their formative years, the thought of socking a bunch of money into a tax-advantaged investment account with hopes of an early retirement can seem comparable to proposing a trip to Mars.  I believe that our inability as a society as whole to live within our means, and the collective cultural desire to consume more perpetuates the wealth inequality that currently exists and continues to increase.  If we can't identify when we have too much, we likely can't identify when we have enough.  And because we never feel like we have enough, it leaves others trying to scrape by considerably less than enough.  We fail to recognize the needs of others because we are too consumed with the pursuit of getting what we think we need or deserve, based on what the advertisements and social media posts tell us.  This creates the conundrum posited by one of my favorite late 20th century philosophers, Tyler Durdin, "we work jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need."

It's not a proposition I'm too interested in entertaining, and not something I would wish upon my kids either.  Nor do I desire that our kids become "entitlemaniacs" that expect toys with every trip to the store, or excessive numbers of presents at every birthday and holiday.  Not that getting your kid a gift for their birthday or Christmas is going to turn them into a self-centered narcissist, but if we want our kids to become caring and empathetic individuals, who are more likely to succeed in life, we at times need to exercise some restraint.  And often the best of intentions can lead to the unintended of consequences.  Sure it can be challenging to ignore the constant whine for something a kid desires, be it a new toy, candy, or more screen time, but if you've ever shuttered inside while observing your child flip through a toy catalog and point out what they want, which happens to be everything in the catalog, there is no time like the present.  It's okay to say no to your kids.  I'm guessing your parents said no to you, a lot.  For some odd reason, this concept often becomes lost on grandparents.  

I recently saw a social media post that chastised parents who bought their kids elaborate gifts from Santa - iPads, ponies, etc.  By doing this, the author of the post argued it created a sense of inadequacy in those kids whose families did not have the means to give those gifts, much less make them seem like they came from "the big fat man with the long white beard".  Hard for a well behaved kid who comes from a family below the poverty line to comprehend not getting the iPad he asked for from St. Nick when his "top tax bracket AGI and in the principal's office every other day" classmate got a new one to replace the one that was in his stocking last year.  Attempting to level the Santa Gift Playing field is a noble endeavor - maybe we should require a $20 gift limit like the office Christmas Party White Elephant gift exchange.  Another option though, would be to raise kids who don't make exorbitant requests to a fictional senior citizen who is supposedly able to deliver gifts to the 1.9 billion good girls and boys of the world.  Of course we could always come clean come clean on the whole Santa business. It may seem a bit cruel, but is it much crueler than Santa "bringing" some kid from the Naughty List a pony and a kid on the Nice list a pair of socks?   

     

Add "Hey Santa, we've been really good this year. 
Can you bring us a 25% return on our the family index fund?"

Now, if you are one of the (few) regular readers of this blog, you might be getting ready to throw out your hypocrisy flag.  Dude, didn't you take your kids on a trip to one of the most expensive countries in the world this past summer.  And aren't your girls involved in one of the more financially committal after school activities.  You are 100% correct, and the dance thing I struggle to rationalize at times.  But trying to become Financially Independent is not about doing everything humanly possible to not spend money.  It's not about dumpster diving or going around to everyone else's table at a restaurant and asking if you can take their leftovers home.  It is about making conscious efforts to reserve your financial resources predominately on what you believe adds value to your life.  It's also about preserving the resources that you have in effort to not be wasteful, while considering how fortunate you are to have basic necessities; food, water, shelter, that others wish for dearly on a daily basis.  

Pursuing financial independence doesn't require extreme deprivation now so you can achieve a certain state of nirvana when you finally catch FIRE.  In fact for Christmas this year, we opted to purchase a family ski pass to our local ski hill as our main present to the kids (and ourselves).  In the end it will undoubtedly be more expensive than purchasing them a variety of toys and clothes, especially factoring in the number of hot chocolates we will inevitably purchase throughout the season.  But it was a purchase we felt comfortable making, knowing that the memories we make as a family will beyond exceed the cost of the pass.  And hopefully not yield any subsequent ER visits.  

My wife and I have commented that not much will likely change with our lifestyle when we reach financial independence, despite our ability to have more time to do those things we really love.  We've already make conscious efforts to integrate those things into our life, and have taken the necessary steps to make them as feasible as possible.  As the adage goes, if you are waiting for retirement to do "all the things", the likelihood of you actually doing them upon retirement are pretty slim.  For this reason, we often conflate what we actually think we might need to reach financial independence and free ourselves from the burdens of needing to work for a paycheck.  Also for this reason, I have zero qualms ponying up $500/kid to take them on a worthwhile family adventure, but might think twice before springing for a new $15 backpack each school year.

You best enjoy that turkey and cheese croissant courtesy of Delta Airlines.
Food in Iceland is expensive.

Like most things, financial independence or actively seeking financial independence isn't for everybody.  Although, I have a hard time believing that statement myself.  I think we would all enjoy having a certain level of financial independence, but fewer than all of us are interested in taking the necessary steps to actually achieve it.  And some of us have gotten so steeped in the conspicuous consumption culture, that we've come to terms with the fact that we will spend the bulk of our living years working to sustain that lifestyle.  The sad irony is making that choice tends to lead to a life filled with an excessive amount of stress.  Stress about never having enough money to cover all of the expenses.  Stress that comes with having too much stuff in your possession which creates too much clutter in your life.  Stress about never having enough time because you are busy working a job to cover the various expenses that come among with those possessions that are likely adding stress and clutter to your life.  I may not get out much these days, but I've never met someone who has consciously decided to live with less who seems on edge about life.     

It's little wonder why this time of year, where we often spend excessive amounts of time fretting over the perfect gift for that special someone or that perfect outfit for that important holiday party, tends to be equally the most wonderful and stressful time of the the year.  Yes, I used that exact phrase before, and will undoubtedly use it again next year in a post.  But we all know that it doesn't have to be that way, and we all know what the true reason for the season is, even if our collective actions tend to indicate otherwise.  Of course a certain amount of stress is to be expected around the holidays, and the concept of overcoming that stress can feel rewarding in its own way.  But if you are stressed out about what to get your kids for Christmas, if you get them anything at all*, consider pondering this question;  "If money wasn't an issue, what would I get them for a gift?"  Sure the answer might be abstract and likely unattainable, but that will guide you in the decision making process.  If money wasn't an issue, I'm guessing a bulk of us wouldn't buy our kids what we will inevitably end up buying them.  It seems crazily counter-intuitive that we would buy these things with a limited budget, just for the sake of them having something to open on Christmas morn.   

If you are looking for gift tips that might skew more to FIRE Mentality, you are welcome to revisit my post from two years ago.  You certainly don't need to get me anything, but if you would like to, you peek at my SAHD Christmas List from a few years ago.  Four years later everything is still very relevant.  But seriously no material gifts necessary.  Peace on earth and goodwill toward women and men is more than enough.

And now my gift for you, as if my meandering preaching wasn't enough.  If you are at all interested in more concrete concepts of FIRE or financial independence, or just interested in trying to simply your life (which typically results in a healthier financial situation), here are a few recommended resources:   

Your Money or Your Life by Vicki Robin - essentially the FIRE Bible, and complementary website to bring it to the 21st Century.  Philosophical and practical advice all wrapped into one

Voluntary Simplicity by Duane Elgin - this book was my personal introduction to the voluntary simplicity/minimalism movement, which is very congruent with a FIRE Mentality.  Pretty heady, but lots of practical advice and nuggets of wisdom from those who have chosen to live with less.

The Minimalists - Two guys who made an award winning documentary, wrote a couple of books, and host a podcast about their journey into Minimalism and advocate for a simpler life.

Meet the Frugalwoods - Another great book (and blog) about a couple's journey to Financial Independence.  The book is a great read with thoughtful and honest insight.

The New Frugality - A book by one of my favorite public radio economics editors.  It provides a very useful overview of how to become smarter with your finances without needing a CPA.

Mr. Money Mustache - A great and humorous blog from a guy (and his family) who achieved early financial independence in somewhat typical FI fashion - well paying job, aggressive savings and investment.  Very candid and explores a number of well thought out topics that can help make sense of FI, how to get there and how to life a good life once you do.  


*Kudos to you if you do a buy nothing Christmas.  We're not there yet, but someday hopefully.  #firegoals