LOVE IN THE TIME OF FORECLOSURE

write: a doe bay writer's workshop

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 23 Jan 2013 19:13:00 +0000

Two and a half years after leaving the San Juan Islands with our five-week-old baby boy, we are going back for our first visit. And it is thanks to my friend and fellow writer Jennifer Beck Furber who has invited me to be a part of this new and awesome writers workshop on Orcas Island.

Doe Bay resort is a truly special place on Orcas Island. And Orcas Island is where my midwife and doula live. It's where we went for our birth class and where I went for all of my pregnancy check-ups. That is to say, it holds a very special place for me. I have vivid memories of sitting on the bench at Doe Bay with Bob, staring out into the water while Malcolm kicked inside of me. Wondering what our future would hold... wondering if we would ever get to come back.

Back in October, Bob went to Nasheville for a bachelor party weekend to see the Bears play. That was his first weekend away as a dad.

Though we are all traveling to the islands together (Bob, Malcolm and me,) the time at the writer's workshop is my own. Bob and Malcolm will be staying with Jenn's husband Luke and their three girls (Malcolm will love them!) while I enjoy my first weekend away as a mom... to BE a writer and be with other writers.

Bob got BBQ, beer and the Bears, and I get hot springs, writing and storytelling. I couldn't be more thrilled.

If you're a writer and long for a weekend away from it all... truly away from it all... to have some intimate time with your work, then this might be the workshop for you.

The group is limited to 25 and tickets go on sale HERE on January 25th.

More info about the weekend here.

To learn more about the other participating artists:

Matt Logelin, New York Times Bestselling author of Two Kisses for Maddie

Daniel Blue, Lead singer and songwriter of Seattle's Motopony

Jennifer Beck Furber, Author of Baby by the Sea

Jesse Michener, photographer

The view from Doe Bay Resort (SERIOUSLY!)

My new blog project is a grand experiment in failure

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 16:50:00 +0000

My last post generated a lot of interest. Getting all of that off my chest really made a huge difference for me. As I said in my post, 2013 would be about shunning perfection and embracing structure. Well, I'm posting to say that I have my structure.

It is a new blog experiment called

TODAY'S FAILURE: A failure a day keeps the lazy away

Or... Today's failure is tomorrow's success

I am calling it a grand experiment in embracing failure and I'm having a blast with it.

The basic idea is this... every day I attempt something with failure written all over it. This thing I attempt is intended to be something that will forward what I am already up to in life.

For example, I have been working on a new full-length play about a woman who becomes a magician's assistant. I've been thinking that it would behoove me to learn some magic myself and also perhaps even try my hand at performing. I haven't done this because the very thought terrifies me. And so was born a challenge for TODAY'S FAILURE:

LEARN ONE MAGIC TRICK AND PERFORM IT FOR 5 STRANGERS

I have learned the trick and today I will be performing it for 5 strangers.

I invite you to check out my new blog project and even join me. Why not?

Welcome to my grand experiment in embracing failure - TODAY'S FAILURE

P.S. As I am shunning perfection this year, the new blog is far from perfect. I have a lot more that I want to create. It's not nearly as pretty and polished as I would like. I haven't written an ABOUT page or the FAQ, yet. But, I'll get there. It's more important for me to jump into the project without waiting for it to be perfect first. So it's imperfect. Which is actually perfect, right?

Why I will not be striving for perfection in 2013 or How to be flawed and happy

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 06:46:00 +0000

A not-so-perfect picture of me and my totally perfect son

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!

I don't know about you, but I woke up this morning feeling like a butterfly with new wings, emerging from my cocoon refreshed, ready to take on a new year in all its glorious possibilities.

Lie.

COMPLETE LIE.

It was more like this...

I woke up this morning and delayed getting out from under the protection of my down comforter for as long as my bladder would allow.

The thought of starting 2013 was enough to cause major anxiety.

I was sensitive and irritable... a snapping turtle ready to chomp at anyone who got close.

I didn't feel like being positive and excited about a new year.

I didn't feel like even getting out of bed.

This didn't make sense to me.

I was not hungover.

I thoroughly enjoyed our New Year's Eve ice skating followed by a lovely meal and two kick ass margaritas with muddled pineapple and jalapeño. Yep. There was a kick.

Cuddled with Bobbie on the couch watching the ball drop while Malcolm slept soundly in the next room. Slept like a baby.

So why so crabby?

I should be A FREAKIN' ENDLESS FIELD OF GLORIOUS WILDFLOWERS

I should be a goddess of possibility floating through my day pinning perfect pictures of my perfect life to Pinterest.

I should really be an inspiring and blank space for creation

A powerful woman ready to take on this new year and make it her bitch.

I should at least be cheerful.

Right?

I have every (I so want to swear here) thing I need. Every. Thing. I want of nothing.

Except...

More.

Just more.

Always more.

More of me. More time. More money.

More accomplishments.

Because

Well

It's just never enough.

Here's what I realized...

Today on the first day of the new year... I already felt behind.

And I when I pinpointed that, it occurred to me that I feel this way most of the time.

I feel behind. Behind others. Behind my own desires. Just behind.

The catch-up game is the game of my life. Every day. Playing catch up with the pictures in my head. With my ideal version of myself. With the life I think I should be living.

YUCK!

BLECK!

PFFFFFT!

The life I think I should be living is much more fabulous and prolific than the one I actually live. The life I think I should be living is found somewhere between a perfectly edited Pinterest feed and a movie but not in reality. And it only serves to make me feel inferior and to create anxiety. I am its anxiety puppet.

As a result, nothing I do is enough to make me feel like I'm ahead. Or at least caught up.

Last year I finished a first draft of a new full-length play. Yeah! But, no. Because all I see are all the plays and screenplays I didn't write. And this ideal woman I'm chasing has already won a Tony and an Oscar, okay?

Last year I had two readings of two separate full-lengths at Chicago Dramatists.... but... they were readings. Not productions. Uh, you can't win a Tony with a reading.

Last year we moved from Chicago to L.A. (!)

We transitioned Malcolm to a new city to his big boy bed to no longer nursing to falling asleep without Mommy (you have no idea how big that one was) to starting pre-pre-school three times a week to just being a freaking awesome kid. But...

I didn't finish scrapbooking his baby book. Because I should at least be able to do that. And if I don't, what does that mean? Will Malcolm's childhood cease to exist? All those moments I failed to document. All those memories, gone. !!!! Verdict? I suck.

I didn't organize any of the millions of pictures I took over the course of the year into pretty picture books or even digital albums and now they will just languish in my Facebook Timeline, caption less.

I never even once took Malcolm to toddler yoga. (Because that's something I should be doing, right?)

We didn't go camping, either. (All good parents obviously take their kids camping.)

I lost 15 lbs. (Woo hoo!) But I gained it back. (Oh.)

Fail.

I didn't write a new book. I didn't sell a million copies of the one book I do have published. I didn't exercise. I didn't get up early enough. I watched too much TV. I ate too much crap. I was a total disorganized mess of a human being.

Loser.

Lou

Zer.

Loo loo loo loo loo

zerrrrrrrr

Bob had enough of my using him as a punching bag this morning. It's so much easier focusing on his faults than my own. And isn't that a bonus of marriage?

HA. NO.

It's mean. I was being mean. And simply setting up a smoke screen so that I didn't have to deal with my own poop. I lashed out at Bob so that I did not have to deal with my own disappointments and fears about the new year.

Here's the thing.

I am so ridiculously far from perfect. And this morning I couldn't stand how ridiculously far from perfect I actually am.

I have a lifetime of evidence for failed promises to myself. And I can't fool myself into believing that THIS YEAR WILL BE DIFFERENT, DAMN IT.

It won't.

No, don't try to convince me. I'm not having a pity party here. Just being honest.

It won't be different.

I will promise things and those things will fall by the way side as I struggle to just brush my teeth or shave my legs. Seriously folks, if I shave my legs, it's a good day.

I marvel at the people who do it all.

I am in complete awe of the women who have full-time careers and three kids and perfect skin and shaped arms and clean homes and beautiful blogs and amazing sex lives and make cookies from scratch and who are happy on no-carb diets and make time for themselves and go see live music and live theatre and donate their time and volunteer and build furniture and take long walks in the woods who commune with nature and write and/or read poetry and win prizes with long names and see all the Oscar nominated movies and have the quick wit and self-deprecating humor of Tiny Fey who are generous and wonderful mothers/daughters/sisters/friends/human beings who always write thank you notes and manage to shower every day and are always in a good mood and always say the right thing and have matching throw pillows and several thousand followers on Pinterest and don't shove their clothes into their closet but fold them perfectly and place them in an organized fashion in a drawer that glides with the greatest of ease and who would never wear socks with holes or let their roots show and who have lovely well-behaved children...

OKAY... clearly that person doesn't exist. And if she does... if YOU are that person...please for the love of god, don't tell me that's how I should be. Or it's easy. It's just easy being that awesome, right?

Here's what's easy...

Letting

It

Go

Because I'm so clearly not that person.

And I don't need to be.

No, I don't. I really don't.

The last thing I want to do in 2013 is try, yet another year, to be that person.

If I did, I would fail.

Why would I want to do that to myself? Again?

Why not just acknowledge that it is a challenge for me to freakin shave my armpits, let alone my legs.

That I struggle to even write one blog post anymore?

That I am overwhelmed all the time. All the time!

Sometimes I really hate Pinterest. No, not just Pinterest. Facebook, Twitter, the whole freakin' internet. Because it makes it way too easy to compare myself to everyone else's amazing lives. But there I go looking for a scapegoat when really it's me. I'm the one that allows myself to get sucked into comparing when I know very well there is no cheese down that tunnel.

No one else does this, I know. I'm unique that way.

But, no one esle is you. No one else is me.

Accomplishments don't make the person. And they don't equal happiness.

The "Why Bother" trap

Here's another thing I discovered today. I regularly fall into the "Why Bother" trap.

It's like if I can't be the person on the cover of YOGA Magazine then why bother even going to one class? I don't even try. Like if I can't commit to being an expert at something, why bother.

That's the stupidest thing I've ever acknowledged about myself. Well, maybe not. But it's pretty crazy. And all it does is prevent me from taking action. I let "Why Bother" rule me way too much. And it's true... it does seem that it's going to be impossible to accomplish everything I am out to accomplish.

It's why I haven't been blogging. I see other people's more amazing more popular blogs and think, well... mine will never be like that. And I don't have the time right now to write the internet's most profound, moving and life-changing blog post ever, so what's the point?

HA! Fool!

I'm starting to think that perhaps my 2013 could be about BEING OKAY WITH ORDINARY.

Does that sound like a sell-out?

I don't mean it to.

It's like this... AIM for extraordinary. And don't beat yourself up if you miss.

Ordinary is okay.

Writing one new play a year is really okay, Steph.

Being a dedicated stay-at-home mom and writer with A MESSY HOUSE is okay.

Yes, yes, yes... I would prefer it to be clean. Hell, yes. So I'm either going to have to pony up the cash for a regular cleaning lady or I'm going to have to be okay with a messy house. Because pretending that the new year is magically going to make me suddenly capable of being able to parent well, partner well, write well and often, eat well AND have a clean house is just more lying to myself. Or magical thinking. It's not reality. And it won't work.

Being profoundly related to my limitations and setting up structure around that to support what I'm up to... that's what will work.

Just maybe it is okay to be who I am and NOT strive for perfection.

I'm not saying that I don't have things I'm out to accomplish. I'm just saying that I'm so tired of trying to live up to an ideal I will never achieve. I'm tired of the failure cycle. I'm tired of chasing accomplishments in service of happiness. I'm tired of comparing myself to what looks like perfection and then diving head first into a shame spiral.

And that's why instead of having 2013 be about MORE and BETTER and PERFECT, I am declaring the theme of my 2013 to be

STRUCTURE & POETRY

And I am in love with that.

LOVE IT!

It totally inspires me.

Structure

I've been living without any routine and it hasn't been working for me. So I'm putting structures in place that will help me fulfill my commitments.

Here are a couple of examples:

1. Every morning I will be getting up at 5 AM to write until Malcolm wakes up.
2. Every Thursday evening I will be seeing a play and Bob will have bonding time with Malcolm.
3. Every Sunday morning we will go for a hike as a family.

Just those three things will greatly transform my life. If I stick to them.

What will have me stick to them this year as opposed to years past?

I don't know. But I think I know what won't work... declaring failure at the first slip-up.

Poetry

This means reading poetry, yes. Writing poetry, perhaps. Yes. But it's more than that. Much bigger.

It means inviting poetry into my life.
Being in nature. Communing.
Allowing my brain to be filled with beauty.
To sit in silence. To reflect on the world around.
To stare at my son's face... his cheeks alone for minutes, hours.
To allow room for wonder.
Sentiments never before expressed.
Brain actually thinking on its own as opposed to repeating things said or thought or overheard. Creation. In conversation.

Poetry. In my life. In my marriage. My partnership. With Bob. A man I've been with for twelve years. Or more? Long enough to lose track.
Long enough that it seems impossible to create newness.
And this is where poetry.
Listening in a new way. Listening with the ears of someone who hasn't heard any of it before.
Who is learning to hear and cherishing every sound.
Love's long unexplored corners. Corners of ourselves created or discovered.
Being reborn in each other's arms. Tingling skin. Warmth of breath on neck. Fingers touching and sending sparks. Sparks, imagine. After twelve years.

This means being willing to shock the hell out of myself.
Being willing to not know every fucking thing already.
Gazing without fear into fear.
And allowing it to exist, but not interfere.
Having the courage to be flawed. And having more courage to allow others to see my flaws.
Being flawed. Sharing my flaws courageously.

That's freedom. That's how to be free. And happy.

Happiness is not achieved by being an accomplishment junkie or having perfection envy.

It is achieved by going for it and being okay with failure. But really fucking going for it. And being willing to look like a goddamn mess in the process.

That's what I think, at least, on the evening of this first day of the New Year after two glasses of red wine.

What do you think? I'd love to hear.

Thanks for your thoughts, dear readers.

And happy happy new year.

Happy Imperfect YOU!

Here's to joy and freedom in the new year... whether or not you have time to shave your legs (or face) or even shower.

-Steph

P.S. If you're willing, please share your favorite poems or poetry in the comments... or ways you invite poetry into your life. Thanks!

How to know when to declare bankruptcy

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Sat, 08 Dec 2012 22:17:00 +0000

This morning Bob said to me, "You know, if we had declared bankruptcy earlier we could have stayed in our house at least six months longer."

I responded, "Yeah. Maybe. There are a million if only's. Oh well."

Two things about that...

1. It has been four years and we are still replaying our every move like a chess game that just won't quit.

If only...

If only we had declared bankruptcy before falling into pre-foreclosure, then we might have had a chance to save the house.

If only we had listed the house at the price we paid for it right away, we would have found a buyer immediately, thus avoiding the need for a short sale and subsequent bankruptcy.

If only we hadn't dumped all of our savings into a renovation.

If only we had never bought the house.

That's where the "if only" chain of thought always ends. If only we had never bought the house. Well, I shouldn't say it ends there. It pauses there. And hangs for a beat.

Then I usually go to:

"Yeah, but... I loved the house. We got to live there for the time that we did. And while we did, we loved the heck out of it."

So... why do we keep torturing ourselves with "what ifs" still four years later? Perhaps we feel that if we can play the right moves, we won't repeat the mistakes in our future. To me, it always feels futile. I mean, who knows how events would have unfolded if we had never bought the house. We might have been reckless in some other way that could have devastated our finances.

The lessons we learned from our brush with foreclosure are the lessons that make us savvier today. We didn't know that then. And we didn't even know that we didn't know that.

We're smarter now BECAUSE of everything that went down.

2. Bob has a point about the Bankruptcy

Bob first bought up bankruptcy protection when we were about to miss our first mortgage payment. He wanted to look into it then.

I did not.

He was thinking of it as a business decision. It's called bankruptcy protection for a reason. He wanted to protect our assets; I wanted to be a good girl.

I saw bankruptcy as a shameful failure and one that should be avoided at all costs. I was unwilling to consider that it was a viable choice. I was unwilling to consider that we might eventually be forced declare bankruptcy. I had fixed my mind on salvation. We will get out of this mess. Somehow. We won't have to declare bankruptcy.

Well... I was wrong.

We avoided foreclosure, but ended up short selling our home and losing everything in the process. And we found ourselves cowering under the protection of Chapter 7. We no longer had any assets to protect. What we were protecting now was our future. See, we were worried that the bank would wait for us to get back on our feet and then come after us for the difference from the short sale.

Had I been willing to give up my judgements about Bankruptcy, we might still have our house today. And if we had been able to hold onto it, we would have a major asset in today's rebounding housing market.

I don't allow myself to think about that very often because it's neither here nor there. I really am "oh well" about it. Because we are where we are. We are back on our feet. We're not homeowners. We're still in debt. But we are much better off than we have been for many years.

I'm focused on creating our future, not rewriting our past.

That's not to say that I don't occasionally find myself daydreaming and playing that alternate reality game. The "what would our life look like today if we never lost the house" game. But I quickly see the danger in that and shut it down.

How can you learn from us?

First. Do NOT do this:

Do not fool yourself into believing that everything will be okay so you don't even need to become familiar with the B-word.

That's what I did. And I regret it.

So, what to do?

Learn. Investigate. Interview the B-Word and learn about all of its many complexities.

Learn about the different types of bankruptcy protection and determine which would be right for you. There's Chapter 7 (what we filed because at that point we didn't have any assets,) Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13...

Learn about how it will impact your credit. Try to determine if it is worth it.

The more you learn now, the better. Try to separate your feelings about bankruptcy. I would suggest looking at it from a matter-of-fact business decision. Try to view this as a potential business decision. Subtract the emotion from the fact-finding.

You could even set up a meeting to talk to a bankruptcy attorney just to better understand your options. I wasn't even willing to do that because I really believed the worst couldn't happen. Then it did. And it was too late to salvage our assets. You don't have to make my mistake.

Ground yourself in reality as early in the process as possible.

And remember, just because you're talking about Bankruptcy, doesn't mean you're surrendering to it.

I'm not advocating running for the cover of Bankruptcy before trying anything and everything else. I'm just saying that you don't want to wait until it's too late. Until you really are left with nothing.

It's a very tricky and emotional thing. I completely understand that. And I don't have an answer to the question, When should I declare Bankruptcy?

And if I did claim to have an answer to that question, you shouldn't listen because I AM NOT AN EXPERT. I am not an attorney. I am just a writer who wishes she hadn't been so afraid of failing.

Bankruptcy exists for a reason.

Just like short sales exist for a reason. Sometimes things don't go as planned. These are things to help mitigate the losses.

We didn't want to have to declare Bankruptcy. Trust me. I write about that here. We didn't take it lightly.

Bankruptcy isn't to be taken lightly. If you end up there, I highly advise that you learn from the mistakes that led you down that path so that you don't wear it thin.

And in the meantime, do as our Bankruptcy attorney advised:
Be good to each other.

And... quit with the "If onlys" and "what ifs."

Instead, create a financially responsible future.

My blog post about our decision to declare bankruptcy is here: B is For...

As always, I greatly appreciate your sharing this with someone facing foreclosure or bankruptcy.

This holiday season, share some Love in the Time of Foreclosure. The eBook is available here.

VOTE!

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Tue, 06 Nov 2012 09:18:00 +0000

image from OBEY

Tomorrow, voting for me will be easy. I know my polling place (only a few blocks away). I know who I'm voting for and how on all of the propositions. And I know (I'm pretty sure) I won't have to wait in too long of a line.

Voting for some of you might not be that easy. Especially if you're in a battleground state. Today on the radio, Ed Schultz said that this election comes down to "the heart and soul of those people standing in long lines waiting to vote" tomorrow. That might be you.

If it is, thank you. Thank you for being willing to fight to make your voice heard. Thank you for caring enough about our country to wait and wait and wait to vote. I feel very lucky that I have never had to deal with challenging circumstances in order to vote. And I like to think that if I did, I wouldn't give up.

I've read about some crazy stuff going on out there... robo calls saying you can vote over the phone. You can't. Go to your polling place. If someone calls and says your polling place has changed, don't listen.

LOOK UP YOUR POLLING PLACE HERE

EVERY VOTE COUNTS. Don't give up. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. Use your power.

For the record, I am proud to be voting to re-elect our President.

FORWARD!

Just how tempted are you by Halloween candy?

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Thu, 01 Nov 2012 19:13:00 +0000

Flyer from the Manila production directed by Rich Tuason

I used to hide my Halloween candy from my brother. And he hid his from me. At least that's how I remember it. That candy is a precious commodity, no? As a kid, you work hard for that. Dressing up, going door to door to door to door. The candy you earn tastes even sweeter after all that work.

So, what would you do if your mom stole your Halloween candy?

Did this happen to me? NO. Thankfully the only threat to my Halloween candy was my little brother. But... I did imagine what it would be like to BE a mom who stole her kid's candy. And I wrote a play about it. Because, that's just what I do.

The play was commissioned by my friend and fellow playwright, Jeanette Farr for a production at Glendale Community College called THE MOTEL CHRONICLES. The only requirement was that the play had to be set in a motel room.

What sort of things happen in motel rooms, I wondered? Hmmmm.... Of course! Candy bingeing.

On this day when we are all either hiding our loot from ourselves, our siblings, our co-workers, our partners or our kids, I thought I would share my ten-minute play THE CHOCOLATE AFFAIR about a woman who steals her daughter's Halloween candy and checks herself into a seedy motel room to eat it in peace.

This is by far my most popular play. It has been produced all over the world from South Africa to India to The Philippines to the virtual world of Second Life.

I hope you enjoy!

You can read it online here -
THE CHOCOLATE AFFAIR by Stephanie Alison Walker

Also available in the anthology -
THE BEST 10-MINUTE PLAYS FOR 2 OR MORE ACTORS 2009 published by Smith & Kraus

Good thing the foreclosure crisis has been resolved!

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Sat, 20 Oct 2012 05:50:00 +0000

Sarcasm, folks. Of course it hasn't been resolved. But, listening to the presidential debates and the main talking points this election, you'd think it had been.

Why?

BECAUSE NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT.

Not Romney.

Not Obama.

No one.

Or is it just me? I mean, I guess it could just be me. I have been busy lately. I suppose it is possible that I completely missed it. That some brilliant proposal to solve the housing crisis strode in on a white horse unbeknownst to me.

No... No. Nopey. Nope.

I wouldn't miss that. If either candidate had a brilliant plan for housing, it wouldn't matter how distracted I've been by child rearing, I would know about it.

EVERYONE would know about it.

Right?

You bet.

So no one has a plan. Okay. It's a complicated issue. Indeed. It's gone on far longer than anyone hoped. And it's far from over.

But why isn't it at least being acknowledged?

Are they just hoping - presumably because they don't know how to fix it- that it will go away? That we'll forget about it? That if it's ignored, it will erase itself as an issue that actually plagues millions of Americans still today?

I don't get it. And I'm not the only one.

HOME IS WHERE THE VOTE IS

A few weeks ago, I did a segment for Huff Post Live about the foreclosure crisis along with Tracy Van Slyke of Home is Where the Vote Is.

Home is Where the Vote Is is a campaign launched by The New Bottom Line that "gives voice to the underwater homeowner."

They are asking that same question.

From their site:

More than 15 million Americans are living in homes that are underwater, many of them are in the key swing states of Ohio, Nevada and Colorado. We give voice to the underwater voter.

Neither President Obama nor Governor Romney are really addressing the root cause of the housing crisis or proposing any bold solutions to fix the problem.

The facts are clear:

Nationally, there are more than 15 million underwater homes, that are $1.2 trillion underwater. Resetting those mortgages to fair market value would save the average underwater homeowner $543 per month, pumping $104 billion into the national economy every year. This would create 1.5 million jobs nationally. The bold and necessary solutions are clear, and have been advocated for by economists on both ends of the political spectrum.

-The predatory practices of big Wall Street banks caused the economic collapse and foreclosure crisis, destroying millions of jobs and devastating communities.

-Americans’ homes have lost $6 trillion in value because Wall Street banks artificially inflated the housing bubble and then crashed the market. The continued housing crisis is a major drag the overall economic recovery and significant source of financial pain for families everywhere.

-With $700 billion in negative home equity and millions of homeowners being held underwater, banks have chained the American economy to a crushing housing debt load.

HELLO! This needs to be part of the election dialogue. If not now, when?!

Home is Where the Vote Is encourages underwater homeowners to contact the candidates to let them know that this issue is important to them. But whether you're underwater or not, it's important. This impacts us all.

What can you do? You can go to their site to share your story and sign a petition that states:

PRESIDENT OBAMA & GOVERNOR ROMNEY:

It’s time you STAND WITH US.

We're UNDERWATER and WE VOTE.

Because for us, HOME IS WHERE THE VOTE IS

I also suggest following their blog for information and ways to help bring housing to the table.

HOME FOR GOOD

The Home For Good campaign recently sent more than 35,000 postcards to the Obama and Romney campaign headquarters demanding that they make foreclosure a top campaign issue.

From the press release:

During the first Presidential debate, both President Obama and Gov. Romney made no mention of how they would solve America’s continuing housing crisis with millions of homeowners still underwater. Instead, Gov. Romney promised to “repeal and replace” the consumer protections ushered in by the Dodd-Frank legislation.

And, while President Obama has created the Consumer Financial Protection Board, initiated the Making Home Affordable program, expanded housing counseling, and joined 49 state attorneys general in a national mortgage settlement with five major banks, these programs have yet to reach the millions of homeowners who could and should benefit from such assistance.

“Abuse by banks and the financial industry, inadequate consumer protections, and massive long-term unemployment caused the mortgage and homeownership crisis, continue to plague a huge swath of the US public, and hold back our economy,” added Jenkins. “The candidates’ silence on these issues is as politically shortsighted as it is morally appalling.”

Three of the eight states with the highest foreclosure rates are presidential battlegrounds: Florida, Ohio, and Nevada. In Florida there were 27,000 new foreclosure filings in August alone—one out of every 328 homes in the state. According to market research firm CoreLogic, more than 3.7 million homes have been lost to foreclosure in the past four years.

Who knows if the postcards made an impact on President Obama, but last night on the Daily Show with John Stewart, he finally talked about the housing crisis:

It's a start. But, if I were fighting to save my house today I would want to hear a lot more.
Like an actual plan.

What do you think? Why have both campaigns been so quiet on the issue?

Is it because no one wants to say the 'F' word?

Further reading:

HOUSING CRISIS ABSENT FROM DEBATES - ABC News

"Thank you, Foreclosure" on Huff Post Live

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 06:16:00 +0000

Screenshot from today's Huff Post Live conversation

Just this morning Bob said that he's been feeling grateful for our near foreclosure and bankruptcy because it's had him feel stronger and more connected to the impact of our financial decisions.

Later in the day, I received an e-mail from a Huff Post Live producer - completely out of the blue - asking if I would be interested in coming to the studio and talking about the silver lining of foreclosure.

Totally bizarre, right? Such serendipity.

So I quickly booked a babysitter and headed to Beverly Hills to the Huff Post Live studio to talk about my personal experience with the upside of foreclosure. It couldn't have been a better fit.

The conversation was inspired by a piece written by Peter S. Goodman titled Foreclosure Crisis Spurs Quest to Reinvigorate Suburbs, which was inspired by the MOMA exhibit Foreclosed: Rehousing the American Dream.

Did any of you get to see the MOMA exhibit?

Here's a link to the Huff Post Live segment from today-- Thank you, Foreclosure

If you watch, I hope you'll comment either here or on their site.

And just a head's up, I don't start talking until about 9 minutes in. Hard to believe that I held off that long. But it's hard to jump into those conversations. I kept waiting for an opening... This was my first time on "TV." There is so much more I wanted to say! Hopefully they'll have me back. It was so much fun.

I hope you enjoy the discussion.

And what about you, dear reader? Have you experienced the silver lining of foreclosure? If so, in what way? Please share in the comments below. Thanks!

On your 2nd birthday

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Mon, 30 Jul 2012 01:32:00 +0000

Dear Malcolm,

You're two years old!

Two whole years old and you are so clearly your own person. With likes (stickers, soccer, strawberries and pirates,) dislikes (bees, toothpaste, the tribal masks on Uncle Tommy's wall and doing anything you don't want to do when you don't want to do it,) and full sentences (I love you, everyone!)

You just began to speak in full sentences in the last couple of weeks and it is so amazing to us. You also recently just began to refer to yourself in the first person instead of the third.

Malcolm no like it recently became: I don't like it.

Every day is filled with moments of parental pride for your dad and me.

You so clearly communicate what you need from us and we love that. Sometimes you "over- communicate" but you get that from your dad so I can't blame you. (Haha.)

You live life so fully and without any fear. We learn from you, Malcolm.

You go right up to kids at the playground to play. Sometimes they don't want to play with you, but you don't let that interfere for even a second with your own enjoyment.

Recently at the playground, there were some older kids sitting in a circle under the slide. They were about five years old and seemed to be making big plans. You saw them and wanted to be a part of whatever they were planning. So you went up to them and sat down. They looked at you and you started talking. All we could make out was every third word... which happened to be "Mommy." You went on for a minute or two -- Mommy this and Mommy that. I imagine you were saying,

"Guys, my mom is so awesome. Have you met her? My mommy is the best. Do you love your mommies? Because I love my mommy so much. I love just saying her name. Mommy, Mommy, Mommy."

After about a minute of that, the older kids got up and moved to another location to continue their secret plans. But that didn't impact you at all. You just went about playing. And I loved that.

You try again. And again. Because that's who you are. I always learn from you when I witness that fearlessness.

You play full out when you play. Sometimes that means you get hurt. Bumps on the head, bruises on the shins and scrapes on your knees. But that's part of growing up. You invite adventure into your life, but you always use caution. And as your mom, I so appreciate that. Thank you.

You love so many things. Here is a short and partial list of things you love these days:

Singing, playing soccer, playing baseball, running, pushing your baby stroller, playing in the sand, playing in the water, dancing, cuddling, playing stickers, coloring with markers, helping mommy cook and clean, playing with other kids, hide and seek, Pablo, trains, pirates, trucks, mac & cheese, reading, being read to and doing things "myself" or "Malcolm self."

You are generous. You share. Yes, sometimes you need a little encouragement in that department. But you always come around. "Here ya go" was one of the first complete sentences you spoke and spoke often.

My little fishy. You love the water. So much. Today we celebrated your birthday at the beach. When it was time for cake, you didn't want to leave the water. I had to carry you away from the water. After cake, it was time to go home for a nap. When you woke up from your nap, the first thing you said was, "Ocean. Ocean!"

Cuddle, Mommy.

I think you say, "Cuddle, Mommy" more than anything. Times ten. And I am so lucky for that. This morning you didn't want to stop cuddling. I wanted to get up and get things done before your party. And then I thought, "It's Malcolm's birthday. And all he wants to do is cuddle with me. I think I can give him that gift." But it is truly more of a gift to me than you. Times ten.

I hope to always remember what it feels like to cuddle and be cuddled by my sweet little two year old boy. Because I know that this will truly be the most precious moment in my life. Everyone tells me to soak it up because it won't last forever. And I know that. And I try to freeze the moment as much as possible. But I know that like every other parent, I will get to a point where I will wonder where the time went and long for our morning cuddle sessions. That much is inevitable. Today I am grateful that you love to cuddle.

You stopped nursing this week.

I hope that you won't be mad at me when you're a teenager for writing this. It's a big deal for us. Two years of nursing. I never thought we'd go that long. And this week we said "Bye bye" to Mommy's milk. I'm proud that we went as long as we did and I'm proud that we weaned without drama. Thank you so much for that. One day I'll tell you the whole story of how you weaned... but only if you want to hear it. (Other moms, contact me privately for the story. It's a good one.)

You're two. You're about to start pre-school. You're about to start potty training. You're rapidly gaining independence. Growing into your own. And making it impossible for me to fully express how I feel about it all. Two years ago your dad and I became parents, thanks to you. Two years ago we lived on a little island in the Pacific Northwest. We were just beginning to get to know you. Two years ago as I write this, we were still at Island Hospital with your Grammy Pammy and our tiny little newborn baby boy. We were in our bubble of joy.

Drunk on the miracle of you.

Two years ago tomorrow, we brought you home on a ferry. (Your entire birth story is here and here if you ever want to read it.) We arrived with you at the farm house on the island and introduced you to our friends Juniper and Sean... and you met Pablo for the first time. You won't remember that moment, but Pablo will. What have they done?! I'm sure he was thinking. But he has grown to love you. When you cry, he cries. When you sleep in your room, he waits outside your door. Listening. Protecting. He forgives you when you pull his tail. Actually, pulled. Past tense. Thankfully, you are over that phase.

Two years ago we had no idea how we would travel from our little island to Chicago and then on to L.A. No idea. (It's still hard to believe.)

Some days you and your presence in our lives seems normal. Like, of course. And then I think... no. No! You are a miracle. You always will be. Because you weren't until you were. And are. And continue to be. Like all children. Here you are. How can we ever understand? How can I ever fully express what you mean to me? I can't. I try. Because I feel like I should be able to. But I always come up short. I procrastinated writing this birthday letter to you for this very reason. I kept thinking I'd find a way to say it. "It." The "it" that is surreal and escapes my abilities. The "it" is the miracle of you.

Right now you are snuggled with Daddy on the sofa watching your favorite movie at the moment - Muppet Treasure Island. You are filled up with beach time, grandparent time, friend time, sand play, water play, sticker play, strawberry and cream cake, presents, presents, presents and so much love.

Sometimes it feels impossible to love you more than I already do. And then I love you more. And guess what? I'm not the only one who feels that way. Your dad does and so do all of your grandparents and aunts and uncles. We love you and we are so proud of you, Malcolm.

Happy birthday, my sweet boy. As you grow, we grow.

I love you.

Love,

Mommy

P.S. Daddy made you this video for your birthday and it is one of your favorite things to watch again and again and again...

What I know about love and the surefire way to heal a wounded heart

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Mon, 04 Jun 2012 04:10:00 +0000

This post was commissioned by the lovely Therese Schwenkler of the seriously-you-should-be-reading-this blog The Unlost who asked if I might be willing to write something about love and heartbreak for a blog post celebrating her one year "single-versary." She was hoping I would provide some wisdom and hope for women who are currently dealing with heartbreak and/or loneliness.

I welcomed such a noble (if not daunting) challenge and here is what I came up with...

Bob and I just celebrated nine years of marriage. And we've been together for twelve. I haven't had to go out on any first dates in a very long time. Mark Zuckerberg was 16 when Bob and I started dating, so thankfully Facebook wasn't a part of my single womanhood. I'm a thirty-six year old woman with a husband, a toddler and a Pug Dog... so how the hell can I relate to someone who is single and heartbroken?

Well, it's true. I can't completely relate to where you are right now. In this world. But I have been there. And what I can tell you is this... as much as it hurts, as much as it seems like you'll never be happy again, as much as you can't go a day without crying or at least trying not to cry, as much as you want to just shut yourself away from the world for a little while...

You alone are responsible for your own happiness.

I'll say it again. (This time with feeling.)

You alone are responsible for your own happiness.
This piece of advice was given to me by my stepmom Silvia following a particularly bad breakup when I was 24. I was having such a terrible time getting past being dumped. I couldn't go a day without wallowing in my misery. I felt cheated and lost and hopelessly sad. It was all very dramatic. One day on my way home from work, I was on the phone crying to my stepmom (who had been a wonderful listener during my weeks of wallowing) when she said this to me.
Our conversation went a little something like this (I reserve the right to paraphrase... a lot):

ME: It hurts so much. It's so unfair. (blubber blubber, sniff sniff) I don't know how I'll ever be happy again...

SILVIA: The thing is, you alone are responsible for your own happiness.

ME: But, you don't understaaaaaaaaand--

SILVIA: You alone are responsible for your own happiness. Not a guy. Not a relationship. Not your mom. Not your dad. Not your job. Not your circumstances. You.

Silence.

Silence.

ME: But--

SILVIA: You.

ME: Okay.

And it hit me. Not right away. But soon after that conversation I realized she was right. If I was responsible for my own happiness, then I could just be happy. Now. I didn't have to wait for anything to happen. I didn't have to wait for the pain to go away. I didn't have to wait for his new relationship to crash and burn in order to show him how amazing I was compared to her and how wrong he was for dumping me. No. In fact, I could just be happy. More than that. It was my JOB to be happy. No one else's job. MY job.

But how do you just be happy? You begin by getting that outside circumstances have absolutely nothing to do with your happiness. Then you start doing things that happy people do. At least that's what I did. I engaged in my life. As a single woman. I empowered myself. I determined to kick ass as a smart and single twenty-four year old. I signed up for a 500-mile bike ride for charity with my mom (it was my very smart and kick butt mom's idea.) And then I began training for that ride. Raising money and riding my bike all over Chicago for a cause far bigger than myself. This ride was the AIDS ride and raised money for people living with AIDS. Doing that made all the difference.

I was up to something and loving life. I realized that had I still been in that relationship, I probably never would have done this ride. It was such a fulfilling experience. And it completely had me get how powerful those words "You alone are responsible for your own happiness" really are.

The best part of the story comes now.

I met my husband training for that ride.

Our first date was the ride itself. 500 miles over six days from Minneapolis to Chicago. We fell in love in bike shorts and helmets, pedaling up steep hills, in wind and rain, through knee pain and sore butts.

I was never one to believe in love at first sight, but by the end of that ride I knew I would spend the rest of my life with him. That ride has been a metaphor for our life together. Ups and downs, pain and tears.

Love never gets easy. The most rewarding relationships are hard fought. What I've learned from our 12-year-relationship (that has been far from perfect, by the way) is that love isn't saying yes once and hoping it lasts. It's saying yes over and over and over again and especially when everything seems impossible. Saying yes in the good times and especially the bad. That's love. That's our love. We just keep doing it.

Throughout our marriage, Silvia's advice has come to mind many times over. "You alone are responsible for your own happiness." Not anyone else. Not ever. Not only when you're single, but also when you're in a committed relationship. And especially when you're married. Trust me. I've tried to make Bob responsible for my happiness. It does not work. So, please don't even try it. You can outsource a lot of things these days, but not your happiness. Why would you want to?

So, I guess that's my advice for anyone who is brokenhearted and/or lonely.

Make being happy your new occupation.

Go out and surprise yourself with how awesome and amazing you are. Do a bike ride for charity. Sign up for a 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk. Raise money for an important cause close to your heart. Learn to play the saxophone. Take a tap dancing class. Volunteer at your local shelter. Deliver meals on wheels. Write that novel you've always dreamed of writing. Be someone who inspires happiness in others.

Be. Happy. Now. Yes. Right now. You deserve it.

Thanks, Therese for inviting me to write this post. It had me realize that I write way more about foreclosure and debt than I do about love. I've been neglecting the LOVE part of this blog. No more.

Now that you've read this, it would be so great if you would comment below with your advice to the lonely and temporarily brokenhearted.

And DEFINITELY go read the inspiration for this post- Therese's one-year single-versary blog post about love:

Rewriting the Great Love Stories of Our Time - The Unlost

Check out the other wise women contributing posts to The Unlost's post on love:

The Road to Transformation - Further Bound

Guest Post, The Unlost: Stories of Our Time - [According to Aletheia]

Later today there will be another related post up on Expat at Home.

P.S. If you liked this post, please share it. You know what to do. Danke!

Relocation update

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 02 May 2012 20:46:00 +0000

Bob and Pablo eating ~~healthy~~ on the road.

Bob is driving our 1995 Volvo Wagon to L.A.

Pablo is his co-pilot.

By far the most asked question is:

"Is the Volvo going to make it?"

Yes. YES! It HAS to make it. So it will.

Day 1 Bob and Pablo drove first to Humboldt, Iowa to visit family and then on to Des Moines to spend the night at his sister and niece's.

Day 2 they drove from DesMoines to Dallas to visit family. Long day of driving capped off with a lovely family visit.

Day 3 was Dallas to Roswell. Why? Because he has always wanted to see Roswell. He confessed to me that for two hours during that drive he was in the middle of the desert without cell phone reception. In a 1995 Volvo wagon. He promises never to drive a remote two-lane road without cell phone reception ever again.

Day 4 is today. He's making the long haul to Los Angeles. Send good thoughts his direction.

Malcolm and I are camped out with family in the burbs. Enjoying every second.

AT the moment I am sitting in a coffee shop scouring the web for places to live while my sister babysits Malcolm.

Speaking of places to live. We could really use one. ASAP. We arrive on Friday and need a short term furnished rental while we apartment hunt for something more permanent.

Anyone in L.A. looking for a house sitter?

Seriously, if you have any leads on any pet-friendly vacation rentals near Century City in Los Angeles please please please send them my way at: loveinthetimeofforeclosure at gmail dot com

Thank you thank you thank you!

Now back to the search.

Did the foreclosure crisis turn us into nomads?

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 14:18:00 +0000

Pablo Neruda packed into the car for our move from L.A. to Chicago in 2009

As a teenager, when I imagined the map of my life, there were push pins all over the world. I visualized myself as a traveler. At one point I even wanted to be a foreign corespondent. I wanted drama, excitement, new adventures. Settling down in one place was the equivalent of death in my teenage mind.

Now it seems all my late-thirties mind wants to do is settle down. And it doesn't mean death. It means connection.

What makes it so hard to leave Chicago this time around is not Chicago (though we do love Chicago)... it's our community. The same thing that had us torn up about leaving L.A. Community is what we crave. It's what I crave. And what makes our life so full and wonderful.

But all this moving around has me wonder...

Are we nomads?

Itinerant
Drifter
Traveler
Vagabond

They all have one thing in common: no permanent abode. No fixed address. They move from place to place.

Traditional nomadic hunter-gatherers moved from place to place in search of food. Sustenance. I suppose that is similar to what we're doing here with this move.

It's true that in losing our house our anchor to Los Angeles lifted, thus setting us adrift. Though we made sure we had purpose in our drifting. It would appear that each move we've made since that time was nomadic in character. At least in some regards.

The move to the Chicago immediately following the loss of our house was for shelter.
The move to the island was for shelter.
The move to Chicago was for Bob's job (sustenance) and sweetened by the presence of community. This move back to L.A. is also for a job opportunity (sustenance.)

A quick Google search of "modern nomads" brought me to a blog belonging to a caretaking couple - Modern Day Nomads. They call themselves nomads because they move place to place in search of caretaking opportunities. They are currently property caretakers of a 150+ acre farm in Maine. Before that they were property caretakers of a ranch in Texas. He's an artist and she's a freelance writer and editor making it easy for them to move from caretaking gig to caretaking gig.

They are living a life Bob and I thought we might end up living for longer than we did. As caretakers. But... the point is that they do seem to fit the definition of modern nomads.

Where does that leave us?

Though four major moves in three years is a lot of moving, I'm still not sure that makes us nomads.

Perhaps it's a phase.

Like a pixie haircut.

It takes guts to do it. You've got a really good reason. And you look back on it years later trying to imagine what on earth you were thinking.

I only hope that years from now we look back on this glad that we had the cojones to jump at this opportunity. As crazy as it seems at times. As cozy as our life here is.

You know, it seems to me that traditional nomads wouldn't have done what we're doing. They wouldn't move on until their food source was used up. Right? Ours isn't. And that's what is so hard about this. We're not moving because there is nothing for us here in Chicago. Or because we hate our life here. No. Complete opposite. We love our life here. And we're moving.

Doesn't make sense. Right? I'm having a hard time encapsulating what that feels like. Choosing to move from one wonderful life to another hopefully even greater opportunity. So if there is anyone out there who has done this kind of a move before, please share your insight in the comments section. I would so appreciate it.

Moving to L.A. this time around is bringing back memories from our first move to L.A. when we were engaged and moving for me to go to grad school at USC. I keep referencing my mindset then. Looking back at how different we were. And how different this is.

One thing I know for sure.

Nomads or not.

This time around, we're out to make Los Angeles our bitch.

There. I said it.

We've got a kid now.

This is all about him.

His future.

Making hard choices in service of the extraordinary.

And as cozy as our life is, reaching for the extraordinary can be pretty damn uncomfortable. So I guess the way I feel is about right.

So...

Did the foreclosure crisis turn us into nomads?

Well... maybe a little. But it didn't turn us into something we weren't already. When I was only two we moved to London for my dad's job. I'm certainly not new to big moves like these.

Maybe instead of turning me into a nomad, foreclosure freed the nomad within.

For now, at least, I'm okay with being a little bit nomad-ish.

What about you? Did foreclosure turn you into a nomad? Or nomad-ish? Please add to the conversation by sharing in the comments below. I love your input!

Full Circle

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Fri, 13 Apr 2012 17:52:00 +0000

Have you gotten tired of our big announcements?

We've made so many over the last three years...

We avoided foreclosure!

We're leaving L.A. and moving to Chicago!

We're moving to an island!

We're having a baby!

We're leaving the island and moving back to Chicago!

Well, it's time for another one.

Ready?

We're leaving Chicago and moving back to L.A.!

I know.

We must sound totally certifiable.

For the fourth time in less than three years.
For the second time in Malcolm's 21 month life span.

Almost three years after losing our house and leaving L.A., we are moving back again.

I know!

Yes. We really are moving back to Los Angeles.

And yes, perhaps we are mad.

Perhaps.

But I promise there is a method to our madness.

We wouldn't leave my family if there weren't a really

really

really

really good reason.

Dropped right into Bob's lap, completely out of the blue, is the opportunity for him to do the same work he's been doing for double the income working for 20th Century Fox.

When does that ever happen?

When does that happen in this kind of economy?

It doesn't. Well, not often. Not every day, that's for sure.

Way to go, Bob! Way to continually create opportunities for our family for being so awesome at what you do.

Here's how it went down.

On the day we were flying to L.A. to visit friends and family and see one of my plays in The Car Plays: San Diego, Bob got a call from a headhunter. This headhunter is someone he hasn't spoken to in ten years. TEN. YEARS. And she just happened to call him on the day we were going to L.A. about a job in L.A.

We said no.

No way.

We are not moving.

We're not leaving Chicago. Not leaving my family. Not putting everyone through that.

We're happy here.

We hate moving.

We're not doing it.

But then...

A few days later...

Bob thought about it.

He ran the numbers. Then came to me and said, "I can't believe I would just turn down this much money without even giving it some thought."

So we gave it some thought. We saw that we could be out of debt in a year and a half with this kind of salary bump. We saw the opportunity to actually start saving for Malcolm's future. We saw the future we've been trying to create...

A future free from debt.

And it just fell in our lap.

Yes, it would have been better if this opportunity had been in Chicago.

It would have been a total no-brainer.

But the universe doesn't work like that.

I mean, we did move all the way to an island that was pretty much in Canada without ever having seen it just for the opportunity to live rent-free. And let's be honest, for the adventure. We are not shy of adventure.

But we've gotten cozy here. We love Chicago. We love our life. We love, as I like to say, our little corner of the universe. And though we've begun to make a habit of it, we really do hate moving.

Yet, we're still living pay check to pay check. We're still carrying our IRS debt, our student loans and our debt to the Franchise Tax Board in California. We're still a very long way off from zero debt. From ever even thinking about owning a house again.

Stay and be happy as we are? Life is good here. Yes, we go pay check to pay check. But, let's be honest, we have a fabulous life.

Or

Embrace the opportunity and possibilities and return to L.A. Complete the circle.

We talked about quality of life. We wanted to make sure we were not just following the money and ignoring quality of life. Is it better to go pay check to pay check slowly chipping away at our debt for years and years on end as long as we get to see my family on a weekly basis? Or is it better to eradicate our debt quickly but see my family only on a monthly or bi-monthly basis?

Moving back to L.A. doesn't mean Malcolm won't be around family. Bob's dad is there. So, he'll have the opportunity to get to know his Grandpa Jim.

My brother is in San Diego... only a 2 hour drive away. So Malcolm will have the chance to get to see more of Reverend Godfather Tommy Dubs.

Bob has two sisters in California. One lives up the coast in San Luis Obispo and the other is in Sacramento. So Malcolm will have more time with his Auntie Chelsey and Auntie Shana.

We're trying to rent a 3-bedroom or at least a large enough 2-bedroom to allow for guests to be comfy. We want guests.

To everyone in Chicago- friends and family alike-- I say this: PLEASE VISIT US.
AND...

WE WILL BE BACK EARLY AND OFTEN.

We are budgeting for travel to and from Chi-town.

If we could, we'd be bi-"coastal." Yes, Lake Michigan is considered a coast. At least in this scenario.

After considering everything it really came down to an offer that we couldn't refuse.

When we were offered the incredible opportunity to housesit on San Juan Island, we obviously didn't have Malcolm to consider. But... if we hadn't gone, who knows how long we would have delayed before having Malcolm.

We had to consider many of the same concerns. And different ones too. One thing I wrote at that time resonates today.

In my blog post announcing our big decision to move to the island and be caretakers for two years, I wrote: I WILL NOT ALLOW MY FEAR TO PAINT THIS WINDOW SHUT.

My fears range from concern that I won't be as happy there to just being afraid to reinvent my life again. To uproot again.

But here's the thing. It doesn't have to be forever.

And...

We can always come back.

(seems to be our mantra)

We know how fortunate we are to have this opportunity. And we know that some people will disagree with our choice to relocate. It has not been easy. We have so many mixed emotions. There have been tears.

We'll miss so much.

We always do. Every time we move we miss what we've left behind. We've missed our life in L.A., we've longed for aspects of our life on the island. And now in going back to L.A. we'll miss our fabulous Chicago life. The list of what we'll miss is too long. So we're trying not to focus on that and instead just stay in action. Moving forward. Focus on the positive aspects of our move. How we're having yet another adventure.

What makes it easier is that we're going to a place we know where we have a community. We don't have to start completely over again.

If we took only one lesson from all of these moves it is to truly appreciate every little thing in the moment. Don't fall into the trap of "there's plenty of time for that." Because there's not. That's an illusion.

Moving again.

Does it get easier each time?

No. You'd think it would. But, for some reason it just doesn't. Probably because of this whole aging thing. The desire to plant roots. Especially as parents.

As our friend Porter said when I told her the news: "We are a more global generation."

Sometimes I think life would be easier if you never knew anything even existed outside your little world.

Then I slap myself. And remember how many amazing adventures life has given me and how I love being "global."

But change isn't easy. And we are no different than anyone else. We still have the same fears about change.

We worry. We fret. We stress.

And somehow we act in the face of all of that.

By remembering what we're committed to. By getting that it's not supposed to be easy. It's not even supposed to be hard. It just is. It is the way it is. And if you want things. Like financial freedom. It's more than likely going to be uncomfortable in the 'going for it.'

I'm so clear that status quo is so much easier. But apparently that's just not who we are.

This move is our chance to take every lesson we've learned through marital crisis and foreclosure and short sale and bankruptcy.... this is our chance to take all of that and be free. No longer burdened by debt. No longer stressed about how we'll save for our son's future. And live a created life.

The universe opened the window.

All we have to do is step through.

Or allow our fear to paint it shut.

But we made a commitment to each other... to be bigger than our fear. To grab opportunities. So... we will not allow our fear to pain this window shut.

Which is why we are moving.

Back to L.A.

Just shy of three years after losing the house.

The latest Walker adventure.
As my mom says, the only constant with us is change.
I hope to settle down one day. I do.
But for now... let the whirlwind begin.

Again.

The details

-Bob's new job is with 20th Century Fox

-He starts the first week of May

-We are looking for an apartment in Culver City. Why Culver City? Because it's a great community that is really close to Bob's job. We plan on remaining a one-car family, so a short commute is really essential. We need something that is dog friendly, kid friendly and visitor friendly. We know we've been spoiled by this apartment and by Andrew- our landlord. But we're hoping to find something similar. Tall ceilings. Lots of light. A yard.

-We're also looking for awesome people to take over our apartment in the Lincoln Square neighborhood on Chicago's north side. If you're interested, write me at loveinthetimeofforeclosure@gmail.com for details and pics.

What do you think? Are we insane? Or would we be insane not to go?

A deleted scene from American Home

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 18:17:00 +0000

So I have this scene that I wrote for my play AMERICAN HOME that just didn't fit into the final draft... it's one of the "babies" I had to kill, so to speak. But I'm unwilling to bury it. I want it to have some life. Which is why I'm sharing it here.

I hope you enjoy. And if you do, I hope you'll share it.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks!

REST STOP CIGARETTE 
            A scene by Stephanie Alison Walker

                                   JOE (41) sneaks a cigarette at a rest
                                   stop somewhere in Kansas. After a
                                   couple of beats, CINDY (41) appears.
                                   Caught. They lock eyes. Enough said.

                                   CINDY
            Lovely.
                          (no response)
            Better hope the kids don't see you.
                          (no response)
            I can't believe you're smoking. Where'd you even get that?
                          (no response)
            Joe.

                                   JOE
            What?

                                   CINDY
            Where'd you get that cigarette?

                                   JOE
            Machine.

                                   CINDY
            You bought a pack?

                                   JOE
            ---

                                   CINDY
            Joe.

                                   JOE
            Cindy. Please. I'm losing my fucking mind. 

                                   CINDY
            But a whole pack? You couldn't just bum one?

                                   JOE
            Bum one? From who?

                                   CINDY
            I don't know. A trucker. Another driver. There was an old
            lady smoking by the women's bathroom. I'm sure she would've
            given you a smoke.

                                   JOE
            A menthol or Virginia Slim. No thanks.

                                   CINDY
            Fine. But you could've--

                                   JOE
            I didn't want to talk to anyone, okay. I just wanted to smoke
            in peace.

                                   (A few beats. Then...)

                                   CINDY
                          (just can't help herself)
            So you're smoking again.

                                   JOE
            I'm having a smoke.

                                   CINDY
            I'm just trying to get this straight because the kids--

                                   JOE
            Cindy, will you please just lay the fuck off?!

                                   (Silence. JOE takes a few drags.
                                   Relaxes. She watches. Then looks out at
                                   the scenery.)

                                   CINDY
                          (a peace offering)
            It's nice here. Everyone always talks about how ugly it is.
            But I think it's pretty. The wheat fields. They're wheat,
            right?
                          (Joe nods)
            The twins with Matty?
                          (Joe nods)
            Where?

                                   JOE
            He took them to play over in the grass.

                                   CINDY
            In the grass?

                                   JOE
            They're fine. They're with Matty. Running around. Stretching
            their little legs.

                                   CINDY
            That's good.

                                   JOE
            Yep.

                                   CINDY
            How're we doing? Think we'll make it to St. Louis tonight?

                                   JOE
            If the kids sleep.

                                   CINDY
            No guarantee there.

                                   JOE
            I can't take another stretch like the last one. Tell you that
            right now.

                                   CINDY
            Want me to drive? I said I'll drive.

                                   JOE
            I'm fine. It's just the constant noise.

                                   CINDY
            I can't do anything about that.

                                   JOE
            Should've bought that DVD player.

                                   CINDY
            This again.

                                   JOE
            Well.

                                   CINDY
            Joe.

                                   JOE
            What?

                                   CINDY
            Don't.

                                   JOE
            I'm just saying/

                                   CINDY
                          (overlapping)
            We can't afford--

                                   JOE
            It would've been a good investment. Keep me from losing my
            mind.

                                   CINDY
            I said we should have flown. 

                                   JOE
            That we can't afford.

                                   CINDY
            But if it was just--

                                   JOE
            Five plane tickets?

                                   CINDY
            You could have driven by yourself, I said. 

                                   JOE
            We could have rented our own private plane. That would have
            been a much better scenario. Why didn't you suggest that?

                                   CINDY
            Joe. Don't.

                                   JOE
            Or a spaceship. We could colonize the moon while we're at it.

                                   CINDY
                          (after a beat)
            Mars.

                                   JOE
            Mars? Seriously. Mars?

                                   CINDY
            No. You're right. The moon is a much more realistic option. 

                                   JOE
            That's all I'm saying. To the moon. To the moon, Cindy. To
            the moon.

                                   CINDY
            Okay, okay.

                                   (They look at each other. Then laugh
                                   off the tension. Relief.)

                                   CINDY
            I heard Harry tell Matty he misses his bedroom.

                                   JOE
            What did Matty say?

                                   CINDY
            He said something about how great their room at Grandma and
            Grandpa's will be. But, I saw tears.

                                   JOE
            Matty?

                                   CINDY
            Yes.

                                   JOE
            Fuck.

                                   CINDY
            I know.

                                   (CINDY snatches the cigarette from
                                   JOE.)

                                   JOE
            Hey, come on!

                                   (CINDY takes a long drag. Exhales.
                                   Hands it back.)

                                   JOE
            See?

                                   CINDY
            Desperate times.

                                   JOE
            Exactly.

                                   CINDY
            Promise me.

                                   JOE
            What?

                                   CINDY
            It's all just temporary.

                                   JOE
            The smoking?

                                   CINDY
            That. Yes.

                                   JOE
            Yeah.

                                   CINDY
            And the rest?

                                   JOE
            I hope to God it is. I can't live with your parents forever.
            I just can't.

                                   CINDY
            People used to do it. That's how things used to be, you know.
            In other countries that's how they live. Generations under
            one roof.
                          (beat)
            Not that I want to. I'm just saying...
                          (off Joe's look)
            I know. Something will appear. Somehow this will turn out for
            the best. It will.

                                   JOE
            You keep saying that.

                                   CINDY
            I'm sorry if my optimism annoys you.

                                   (JOE takes his last drag, drops the
                                   butt on the ground and steps on it.
                                   Then leaves it there.)

                                   JOE
            It doesn't annoy me...

                                   CINDY
            I know it does. 

                                   JOE
            It's just... 

                                   CINDY
            Look...being a cynical grouch doesn't help anything. So why
            not try a little optimism. At least for the kids.

                                   JOE
            How did we ever get here?

                                   CINDY
            We just did.

                                   JOE
            It's just. If I'd seen it coming...

                                   CINDY
            It doesn't matter how we got here. It only matters how we'll
            get out. And never end up here again. But look... we have a
            place to live, three beautiful and healthy children and...

                                   JOE
            And what?

                                   CINDY
            Each other. That should be enough.

(C) Copyright 2012
All rights reserved
For information about rights, please contact Stephanie Alison Walker
stephawalker at gmail

Grace in foreclosure

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 19:41:00 +0000

Are you starting off 2012 in foreclosure?

If the answer is yes, I'm very sorry. I've been there. I know how hard that is.

According to a story published today by CNNMoney,

"One in every 624 U.S. households, nearly 211,000 in total, got hit with some sort of foreclosure filing last month."

Starting off a new year with a foreclosure notice is not ideal. Not at all.

I get it. Bob and I received our intent to accelerate just days before Christmas in 2008. We know how challenging it can be to try to be optimistic and empowered when you don't even know if you're going to have a place to live months down the road.

It can be so overwhelming. Just know that you are not alone. Not by a longshot.

What can you do?

Well, there are so many things you can do. But so as not to add to the overwhelm, the biggest thing you can do is face this potential foreclosure with grace and integrity.

What does that look like?

At the most basic level, it looks like a clean house.

Yes. Keep your house clean. Continue to love it. Treat it nicely. Take good care of it. That is especially important if your house is on the market.

I know that keeping your house up might be the last thing you feel like doing when the bank is threatening to take it away, but it's the right thing to do.

And, it will help you confront this challenge with grace.

When we realized that we wouldn't be able to keep our house in spite of everything, we decided that we were going to do everything in our power to find a buyer in a short sale scenario who would love the house as much as we had.

That meant that we had to take care of it. Yes, it can be exhausting keeping the house show-ready month after month after month after month. But, doesn't it feel good?

In the face of foreclosure, you can choose the path of destruction or the path of grace and integrity.

Choose grace. For yourself. And for your future.

What ways do you face your foreclosure with grace and integrity?

Foreclosures Climbed in January - CNNMoney

Get your FREE copy of Love in the Time of Foreclosure today - one day only!

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 15:19:00 +0000

Happy Valentine's Day, LITTOF readers!

My Valentine's Day gift from Bob was a Dunkin' Donuts coffee delivered to me in bed this morning. And my gift to you is a copy of my eBook, Love in the Time of Foreclosure.

Yes. That's FREE. For just one day.

If you haven't read it yet, why not take a chance today. At least load it up on your new eReader.

Dick Gordon of The Story with Dick Gordon called it
“A genuine human adventure.”

Sara Clemence (co-founder of RecessionWire.com) said: “There are life lessons in here for all of us.”

Janelle Brown (author of “This is Where We Live”) said: “Walker’s personal real estate horror story is wrenching and emotionally honest, as she explores the impact of home ownership on relationships, dreams, and self-identity.”

And a woman in my mom’s book club said that Love in the Time of Foreclosure is “Enchanting and addictive.”

Enchanting and addictive!

So, what are you waiting for? Get your free Love in the Time of Foreclosure today.

How?

Go to my publisher's site - Outpost19 - look at the left column and scroll down until you see this:

Outpost19 offers
epub versions for
non-Kindle devices
and apps:

Click on the "Outpost19" icon to download your free non-Kindle version of the book. When you get to checkout, enter the code "LOVE."

Happy Valentine's Day.

And enjoy!

P.S. We need your help to spread the love today. Please help us by sharing this blog post on Facebook, Twitter or wherever you hang out. For your convenience, you can just click the social media share buttons to the bottom or the left of this post. Thank you!

P.S.S. This special is for a non-Kindle version of the book. That means you won't be able to read this version on your Kindle, but you'll be able to read it anywhere else. Computer, iPad, etc. It's an .epub doc. If you have any questions about this, please leave them in the comments so that others who have the same question can see the answer. Thank you!

like this heart? sara jensen designed it.

A frank conversation with Valentine's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 20:11:00 +0000

Source: jordanferney.blogspot.com via Sara on Pinterest

Yo, Valentine's Day...

I'm not down on love.

I'm not down on romance.

I'm not even down on Valentine's Day, per se.

What I'm down on is the pressure of Valentine's Day.

It is totally possible to have a perfectly lovely Valentine's Day. Yes. It is possible.

Just like it's possible to be happy in the face of pretty sucky circumstances.

It's possible to experience love on a day that seems to be designed to make most of us feel like our love isn't the right love.

Yes, Valentine's Day. You did hear me correctly. You are designed to make us all feel like losers in love. No matter what.

If we're single we're losers because we don't have someone to be with on your day.

If we're in a relationship, we're losers because our relationship doesn't look the one put forth in the glossies or the ads. Whatever it is, it's not enough.

I'm a total sucker for romantic stories and movies. So I've been wondering why just the idea of a day dedicated to love and romance paralyzes me so.

I think it's this idea of perfection. And one day. Like I have this one shot to perfectly express my love for Bob in order to feel like everything is right in the world. That I'm doing the right thing. That I'm with the right person and our marriage is on the right track. Right. Right. Right.

Wrong.

Too much emphasis on right only leads to wrong.

Because there is no such thing as "right."

There's only what we say is true.

There's only what we create.

But you don't emphasis that, do you?

It's in your best interest for us to feel inadequate because that way we'll spend more money on flowers, chocolate, lingerie and bling in order to feel RIGHT.

You set this up so well. You're so sly, VDay. You tap into that part of us that makes us desperate to prove how perfect our love is and how loved we are. You want us to spend as much money as possible as a way to go from feeling wrong to feeling right about ourselves. About our relationship. And in order to erase any loneliness we might be feeling.

In fact, you want us to feel bad about feeling lonely, don't you? As if loneliness itself weren't bad enough. We all get lonely from time to time, Valentine's Day. Whether we are single or married. We get lonely. Why? Because we are human. And loneliness is a perfectly normal and acceptable human emotion.

You want us to be terrified of loneliness. As though being lonely on Valentine's Day is the worst thing in the world. You want us to feel like we did in third grade when we were so fearful of being the only one in class who didn't get a homemade valentine. You want us to remember that feeling and organize our lives around making sure it never happens again.

You want us to think that if we are alone on Valentine's Day that means we will be alone for the rest of our lives.

But that's not true. Not at all. I mean, think about it. It would be like me believing that if I'm mad at Bob on Valentine's Day then I'm going to be mad at him for the rest of my life. And then I'll end up alone and we're back to the loneliness.

You know what I most dislike about you, Valentine's Day?

That you make me feel incapable of adequately expressing the love I have in my heart for Bob.

Here's the thing. Of course I'd love to be able to show him how much I love him by surprising him with a fancy sports car with a big bow on top.

That'd be nice. He'd love that.

Or whisk him off to some tropical location for the weekend. He'd love that too. We'd both love that.

But I can't. Kind of have this debt we're paying off, see?

So what is it about you that has me want to spend money I don't have?

It's like I'm afraid if I don't then it means my marriage is missing something.

Really, Valentine's Day? Really? Is that how you want me to feel?

Really?

Seriously.

So, let me get this straight.

You're saying that if I spend more money than I can afford to buy my husband the perfect gift that makes him feel like he's 18 all over again
and I give him that gift with the perfect card with the perfect message
and I wear lacy lingerie just this side of naughty that makes my boobs look like I'm 18 all over again and I light candles
and wax my body
and tantalize his senses with perfume and aromatherapy
and I cook him a meal made for a man with sophisticated palate that also makes him feel comforted like he's at home with me... something like slow cooked short ribs and garlic mashed potatoes
and I bake him a chocolate cake with some sort of hot chocolate pudding lava center that we eat together and that has us wanting each other in a way that we haven't in a long time...
that he will fall in love with me all over again?

And in turn, he will look even sexier than Brad Pitt in Thelma & Louise
and he will say all the right things in just the right way
and he'll give me those earrings I admired that day that we were walking by that shop in the neighborhood and I will love them more than any gift he's every given me not because of the earrings, but because it will show me that he was listening. He was listening.
and he'll hang on every word I say with the utmost sincerity.
and our conversation will be mutually fascinating like we are the two most fascinating people in the universe.
and he'll gaze at me as though I'm the only woman in the universe
and he will make me feel like everything is absolutely perfect and that I am without a doubt the most beautiful, accomplished, sexy, brilliant, powerful woman in the world.

And that is how Valentine's Day is supposed to be.

Right?

What?

No?

Ridiculous expectations?

But, Valentine's Day, that's not the message you send. You make it seem like that IS how it's SUPPOSED to be. And now you're suddenly saying I'm the one with ridiculous expectations?

Let's get real.

This is how it normally goes:

Every year. I tell myself and Bob that I don't care about Valentine's Day because it is a stupid and contrived "holiday" and I will not be caught in it's net of stupid expectations and childish fantasies about what real love is. I won't spend money in order to prove that our marriage is romantically on par with the best marriages in America... or what the magazines and movies say a romantically healthy marriage is. No. It's dumb.

We're happy. We're in love. We don't need to prove it to each other. We express our love every day. In different ways. In a look. In a kiss that lingers longer than usual. In our daily routines. The sharing of our lives. The way we parent together as partners.

We have nothing to prove to Valentine's Day.

We don't need to plan anything. Nope. We'll do what we always do. We'll eat dinner together as a family. We'll laugh at something adorable that Malcolm does. We'll get frustrated when Pablo begs for table scraps and even more frustrated when Malcolm throws his food on the floor for Pablo. We'll get frazzled when Malcolm screeches that he wants down and we don't get to finish our dinner.

Then we'll take Pablo and Malcolm for a walk. We'll relax. We'll look at the moon. The stars. We'll be in the moment. We'll give Mallie his bath, put him down to sleep, then snuggle up together and maybe watch a movie. Or just listen to music and talk. Yes. Perfect.

And it's settled. That's my ideal Valentine's Day. Being happy with my life exactly the way that it is. Yes.

But then something happens as you get closer, Valentine's Day. I panic. I don't know why, exactly. Maybe it's the amount of Valentine's Day e-mails I get (I'm clearly on too many of these lists) or the plethora of stories about how to have the perfect perfect perfectist day that proves just how perfect you are and how perfect your life is... or maybe it's the inordinate amount of conversation hearts I've consumed in the last 24 hours.

But, it happens.

I admit it. I allow you to suck me in.

I get anxious. I did it again, I think. I planned NOTHING for Valentine's Day and it's TOMORROW.

What's wrong with me?! What does this mean? Who am I? Am I a terrible wife? Boring? Lazy?

I worry that if we do nothing to celebrate, that I'll feel left out. I already do. I feel left out.

Why does everyone else get chocolate?
Why does everyone else get champagne, fancy dinners, a night out worthy or red lipstick, back rubs and sex?
Why do I have to be "above" it?

I want romance. I want love. I want lingerie.

I get desperate. I start thinking of ways to make this the BEST VALENTINE'S DAY EVER.

There's still time to rectify this. No problem.

Right?

Wrong! This is a problem. There's not enough time. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

I'm here to tell you this, VDay: This one day is not a telltale for our future.

Stop making yourself so important. Seriously. You need to stop.

Oh, I need to stop?

I'm the one making you so important?

You're just you? You're just a day. A day that someone invented. And I'm the one giving you power and meaning?

Damn it! I know. You're right. I already knew that. And yet. And yet... I let you suck me in for a second.

It's a good thing I sat down to write this blog post because who knows what I might have done. Most likely I would have made Bob's life miserable by comparing him to Brad Pitt in Thelma & Louise. What man can compare to that?! I would have just continued to invalidate myself and my marriage.

Because that's what we do when we measure our lives up against unrealistic expectations.
A "perfect" Valentine's Day, just like a perfect ordinary day, isn't something that just exists. It's created.

And it has nothing to do with how much money you spend or how delicious a meal is.

Just like happiness is not a static state of being, neither is romance or love.

Romance and love are created feelings/emotions/moments.

Circumstances have nothing to do with romance. The circumstances in life rarely line up to create romantic moments all on their own. More often they seem to conspire against romance. At least against our pictures of what romance is.

So what to do?

Appreciate the love in your life.

Laugh when the perfect meal you were planning goes up in flames.

When the cookies you bake him end up being literally, "The worse cookies in the world."

Laugh at yourself. Laugh with each other.

GIVE the gift of unconditional love to others.

If nothing else, Valentine's Day is an opportunity to practice being the love we seek in our lives.

How do you celebrate Valentine's Day?
Do you hate it?
Love it?
Please share in the comments below!

Check out this blog post on the subject:

Valentine's Day and Emotional Spending - EducationCents

wanting and needing and everything in between: the beauty of a basic budget

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 22:27:00 +0000

There are things I want.

Source: fab.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

There are things I need.

There are things I want but don't need.

Source: obliteratedheart.tumblr.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

There are things I need but don't want.

And there are things I want to need but don't need to want.

(I have yet to find an example of that last one.)

The beauty of a fine-tuned, tediously crafted budget

The other night Bob and I sat down and worked tediously through our tedious and extremely tight budget. Did I mention it was tedious? We have a shared Google doc with our budget and lots of tabs. One of the tabs is our queue of things to buy that don't fall into our regular budget categories.

In this queue we have prioritized the expenses that fall outside of our budget.

We have the things we need to buy now (a new windshield to replace the cracked windshield before it shatters.)

Things we want to buy but don't necessarily need to buy them, though they would make life easier. (Such as a steam mop. And a Dustbuster.)

Those are just two examples. The point is that we have gotten really specific and vigilant with our finances. The goal is to take all the guess work out of spending and saving.

While working through this process, I noticed two things.

Thing 1
It's a lot easier to distinguish between want and need when the stakes are extremely high and resources are limited. If you have $5 and you're hungry, you're not going to spend that $5 on a tube of tinted lip balm when you already have three in your bag and spending that $5 means you don't get to eat. No. You're going to buy a sandwich instead.

Last week, I was a guest at my mom's book club. Yes, my mommy got her book club to read Love in the Time of Foreclosure for their January book selection. (Best. Mom. Ever.) Anyway, the discussion was really wonderful. One of my mom's friends brought up Maslow's Hierarchy of Need.

via Wikipedia

She said, "It's easy to be concerned with self-actualization when you're living in abundance."

That really hit home. Especially because I have been thinking about that a lot lately.

Another way of saying that is that it's easy to be concerned with your personal psychological development when you're not flat broke. When you're not in foreclosure. When you're not unemployed.

When you're in that space of needing to fulfill fundamental human needs like shelter, food, water, breathing... you have no room or space to waste on wondering, wanting or any kind of existential concerns. It's all about providing. And the stakes are high. This is survival mode. (Notice that none of Woody Allen's characters are flat broke. At least not Owen Wilson's character in Midnight in Paris.)

Obviously, there are so many reasons why it's not appealing to live every day in survival mode. Especially when it's not your choice. But there are those people who actually choose to live here. Christopher McCandless comes to mind immediately. He was the Emory College graduate who gave away all of his belongings to live off the land in Alaska. Into the Wild is the book by John Kraukauer about Chris McCandless. (I highly recommend it.)

So there is something appealing about only having to worry about our most fundamental needs. About eliminating even the space to want. I definitely romanticized that notion different times throughout my life.

And I experienced the Zen of it when we were selling everything. Yes. It's wonderful to be set free from the material. It can be incredibly freeing if you have the ability to face it with a positive mindset.

Back when we were facing foreclosure it was a lot easier to avoid buying things we didn’t need because we didn’t have the money to even make that choice. We didn’t have to think “Do I really need this?” Because the answer was usually NO. You don’t. And we were so highly focused on the task at hand—saving the house.

Years go by. We begin again. We get back on our feet and begin to build up savings again. We get some room. We’re more comfortable. And foreclosure and short sales and mortgage payments are firmly in the rear view. That's when the wanting begins.

I've begun looking at property listings online. I gaze at houses and imagine a life in those images. I create entire worlds and stories. And then I shut it down. It's easy to do that with something as big as a house. Not so easy with the little things.

Things like a latte at the local coffee shop. A breakfast out. A new pair of jeans. On sale, of course. I want clothes. I hate mine at the moment. Bob and I haven't bought new clothes in years. Literally. Sure, I bought a sweater here and a pair of underwear there. And I've traded my clothes in for a few new items at Crossroads. But that's it. We both really want new clothes right now. But do we need them? Well... that's a little harder to answer.

It's not like we'd be walking around naked without them. So we don't need them for physiological reasons. But we do need them for reasons of esteem. The fourth layer in Maslow's Pyramid. It's just under the top. And this is how we categorize our needs. We don't need it to be safe, but we need it to feel good about ourselves. About our lives. That area can become so hazy so quickly that it requires constant checking in.

And that's what leads us to the second thing I noticed while budgeting with Bob.

Thing 2

When you budget with a fine tooth comb and really track your spending, there are no grey areas.

By budgeting every single penny (as incredibly tedious as it is) you actually eliminate the hazy area. It either fits in the budget or it doesn't. Every fiber of my being HATES sitting down to budget and track our expenses.

But (after a lot of internal and external kicking and screaming) once I give myself over to the process, I find freedom. I know myself well enough to only allow an hour maximum for this type of penny tracking at one time. And that helps. The knowledge that I won't be sitting in front of our spreadsheet for all eternity, but just for an hour.

It's been not only freeing to have this sort of command over our spending, but it's also been great for our marriage. I've been so unwilling to track our spending THIS closely that Bob has felt completely alone in regards to managing our finances. And that is so unfair. And just plain dumb.

For 2012 I'm done being dumb. Financial freedom happens through action. Not wanting. Not hoping. Not wishing or fantasizing. Action. That's it. And for us, that action is sitting down once a week with our budget and putting cross-checking, counting pennies and debriefing with each other on where we succeeded and where we failed that week.

Being able to know the difference between what you want and what you need is critical.

But it's okay to want even when you don't need...

As long as it's in the budget.

Guest post on Zillow - 5 things to do if you're facing foreclosure

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 20:35:00 +0000

I'd like to send you over to Zillow.com today to read the post I wrote for them as a guest blogger--

5 Things to Do If You're Facing Foreclosure...

Screen Shot of my guest post over on Zillow.com

Thanks for heading on over there to give it a read.

As always, I hope you'll comment and share it if you like what you read!

Danke!

-Steph

P.S. Bob didn't get his wish of selling 25,000 copies of my book for his birthday. But he did have a wonderful birthday. And the book is doing quite well on Amazon today! As of 2:29 today, Love in the Time of Foreclosure is #12 in the Kindle store for Kindle books in the Real Estate category. And it's #89 in books in the Real Estate category. That's in ALL books. Not just eBooks! Check it out:

It's Bob's birthday and we're giving away a Kindle Fire and a copy of LOVE IN THE TIME OF FORECLOSURE

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 13:42:00 +0000

This is Bob. (The one in the hat)

He is my husband, the father of my child (the cute kid in Bob's arms,) the love of my life, my best friend and partner in adventure.

Today is Bob's birthday.

What better way to celebrate Bob's birthday than to give away a brand new Kindle Fire Tablet?!

Bob loves new technology and Amazon's Kindle Fire is one hot new piece of technology.

The Kindle Fire has a 7" touch screen display and retails for $199
Specs from Amazon:

18 million movies, TV shows, songs, magazines, and books
Thousands of popular apps and games, including Netflix, Hulu Plus, Pandora, and more
Ultra-fast web browsing - Amazon Silk
Free cloud storage for all your Amazon content
Vibrant color touchscreen with extra-wide viewing angle - same as an iPad
Fast, powerful dual-core processor
Favorite children's books, graphic novels, and magazines in rich color

We're not only giving away the Kindle Fire, but also a copy of the eBook, Love in the Time of Foreclosure. We wouldn't want to give away an eReader without any books to read!

So this is my first time attempting a giveaway and I'm using this really cool new company called Rafflecopter to help me do it. You'll see a box embedded in the post below. That's where you enter the giveaway. It will track entries and select a winner randomly. Just make sure to please follow the entry instructions.

The giveaway runs for one week. The winner will receive their Kindle Fire just in time for Christmas!

Now back to Bob for a moment. As I said, today is his birthday and he's a little shy about it... which is clearly why I'm blogging about it (such a mean wifey.)

Here's how sweet and amazing my husband is: when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he said all he wanted was for 25,000 people to buy my book. No biggie. To help make Bob's birthday wish come true, you can buy my book, Love in the Time of Foreclosure, here. And you can wish him a happy birthday on Twitter or on Google+.

Happy birthday, Bob. Te adoro. May this year surprise and delight you with its extraordinary-ness and wish fulfillment. And may you feel five years younger than five years before. (That's an ancient adage that I just clearly made up.) I love you.

Now onto the GIVEAWAY!

ENTER HERE:

UPDATE (12/7/11): The winner has been chosen randomly by random.org... and the winner is entry #104 - Megan Douglas!

I decided to select a RUNNER-UP to receive a free copy of my book... Random.org chose entry #265 Heather.

Thank you for playing! And Megan & Heather, please look for an e-mail from me.

Please note that it might take a minute or two for the Rafflecopter widget (the entry form) to load.

From the LITTOF archives: Being thankful in good times and in bad

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 16:57:00 +0000

This post was originally published on November 24, 2009 at LITTOF when it was on ChicagoNow.

A perfectly brined turkey (if I do say so myself)

Ever notice how it's so much easier to be thankful during good times than bad?

Of course. That's so obvious it doesn't even need to be asked. Of course it's easier to be thankful when things are going well. But... is it possible to be thankful when they're not? And isn't perhaps more important?

The last year has been hard on most of America. It hasn't been easy. We've been challenged in so many different ways. People have lost their homes, their jobs, loved ones. Nothing is certain anymore. Everything is changing. Long held beliefs have been shattered. It's... well, it's not been easy.

But, we're still thankful, aren't we? Shouldn't we be? Especially now when times are toughest? YES, YES, YES!

It's Thanksgiving week and I'm deeply thankful for so many things in my life. We actually celebrated Thanksgiving early here at the Walker household with four dear friends who flew up from L.A. It was such a wonderful weekend. It's so easy to be thankful for everything right now because things are really looking up for us. We have a beautiful place to live, we have unbelievably supportive family and friends, we made it through the most challenging two years of our marriage more stronger and more in love than ever, we have a new and improved outlook on life, the list goes on...

Early Thanksgiving in Friday Harbor 2009: Bob Walker, Brian Polak, Cece Tio, Steph Walker, Pablo Neruda, Jami Brandli and Michael Shutt

Times for us are good right now. And it's so easy to be thankful. But it was when times were bad that it was even more important.

Lately people have been asking us, "How the heck did you end up on that island?!" Just a year ago we were deeply entrenched in Los Angeles fighting with every fiber of our being to hold on to the life we had created. So how did we get from there to here? How did we get from that life to this?

There are a couple of answers to that question. One is the nuts and bolts.

-Bob lost his job
-We had no back-up plan
-Couldn't sell the house fast enough
-Economy tanked
-Housing values crashed
-Fell too far behind too fast
-Bank wouldn't modify our mortgage
-New combined salaries fell far short
-Started "Love in the time of foreclosure"
-Came days away from a foreclosure
-Sold the house in a short sale
-Got an offer from a LITTOF reader to live in a house on an island rent-free for two years

And here we are. All of that is true. But it doesn't explain everything. It's the space between that tells the rest of the story. That space was filled with our determination. Our promise to each other to flourish as opposed to flounder. To work as a team and communicate versus hide and blame each other. To become better people and turn the proverbial lemons into lemonade.

And how we managed that was by being thankful.

Being thankful especially when thing were looking most grim. When we were clear that this could very well be the end of us. That we could sink with the house and everything in it. When we felt like total failures and were helpless in the face of insurmountable circumstances... we were thankful.

When times were toughest is when we started actively practicing the art of being thankful. Each night before going to sleep we would try to remember to express at least one thing we were thankful for. On the worst days that one thing might be: "I'm thankful to be alive." Other days, it came easier and we would fall asleep while listing off the things for which we were thankful.

If I was in a depressed mood, Bob would say:

"Name one thing you're thankful for right now."

And I would answer. Sometimes reluctantly. But simply by sharing what I was thankful for I was essentially lifting myself out of my depression. No matter how bad things got, our lives were still filled with blessings. Even on the day we got our notice of default. Or when foreclosure notices were plastered on our garage door. We were always thankful for each other. And so much more...

Thankful for the unconditional love and support of our families and friends
Thankful for our health
Thankful for our resourcefulness.
Thankful for our education and upbringing
Thankful for the opportunity to grow
Thankful for the chance to set our priorities straight
Thankful for the opportunity to learn such important lessons so young

The more we grounded ourselves in the long list of things for which to be thankful, the easier it was to embrace the opportunity in the moment. With so many blessings in our lives, how is it possible to feel like victims? I believe it's not. And that's why we never did.

Today I am thankful for all the same things and more...

I'm thankful for everything I've learned
I'm thankful for having been courageous enough to take a leap of faith
I'm thankful for a wonderful place to live
I'm thankful to the owners of this house for trusting us and giving us such a gift
I'm thankful to have the opportunity to restart my life
I'm thankful for the ability to express myself through writing
I'm thankful for the courage to start this blog
I'm thankful for LITTOF readers and the support you've given me over the last ten months
I'm thankful for the gift and beauty of simplicity

I am honestly thankful for everything we went through in the last year. Because I now know without a shadow of a doubt that what makes me happy (and I'm happier now than I've ever been in my entire life) is love, family, friends, community and the adventure of living.

I don't miss the house. Because, I guess, it was never about the house. The house now represents an old model for happiness. My new model has nothing to do with anything material. And for that, I'm thankful.

Cece and Brian working hard and putting the kitchen to good use.

What about you? Do you practice the art of being thankful?
What about during hard times? And for what are you most thankful?

Happy Thanksgiving!

(If you liked this post, please share it! Thank you!)

Would you sell out your house in order to save it from foreclosure?

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 18:36:00 +0000

Here's the thing. I don't like the look of it either. I'm talking about those Bank of America ads on the Wabash Avenue bridge houses in Chicago. Have you seen them? Yeah, they're not pretty.

Our new mayor, Rahm Emanuel, signed a 30-day lease with Bank of America for that space, according to the Chicago Tribune. Why? To raise money, of course. Chicago needs it. Bad. And nobody likes this idea. Nobody.

But... I wonder...

Would you do the same thing if you could to save your house in foreclosure?

Would you, if you could, lease the roof of your house to Bank of America? Wells Fargo? Pepsi Cola? What about the front of your house? Would you wrap your whole house like a car in an Exxon Mobile banner?

No?

What if it was temporary and it meant you could pay off your mortgage?

Yeah. That's what I thought. You'd do it, right? Your neighbors would hate you for it. But you'd do it. And maybe they'd hate you a little less knowing that you just saved their property value by avoiding foreclosure.

I'd do it. Totally. To save our house? Heck yeah.

Actually, according to Bob that's not true.

I was telling him about how I was going to write this blog post and ask people if they would sell ad space on their houses if it meant they could save their homes from foreclosure. Here's how that conversation went:

BOB: We talked about that.

ME: We did?

BOB: Yeah. I totally wanted to do that.

ME: You did?

BOB: Yes.

STEPH: You wanted to sell ad space on our house?

BOB: Yes. I wanted to call Bank of America and see if we could lease them our roof space for a banner or something but you were totally against it.

ME: I don't remember that.

BOB: Well... probably because you didn't want to do it.

So, there you go. I apparently didn't even want to investigate the possibility of selling ad space on our roof to save our house. Funny how short the memory is. Bob was Mayor Daley floating the idea and I was the general public railing passionately against it even though it could possibly save our house.

Though I don't remember it, I can imagine that I was horrified by the thought of a Bank of America banner wrapping our house. But wouldn't I have at least wanted to try? Thinking about it now, I assume that I would have completely gone for it because, well, anything to save the house, right? Apparently not anything. And why not?

Everyone is railing against our new mayor calling this leasing of city property for ad space a huge mistake. And I get it. It is a slippery slope. No one likes to be marketed 24-7. And our architecture is so precious to us. We Chicagoans are extremely proud of our architecture. We don't want to taint it with obnoxious banners and corporate logos. We don't want to completely sell out, no matter how terrible things are.

Mayor Emanuel plans to bring in $25 million for the city through this sort of advertising. And if he's right, if it works, would it be worth it? I don't know. Feel free to chime in. Please. That kind of money could save a lot of jobs and programs, right? So it could be worth it?

And I'll ask again, if you could sell ad space on your house to save it, would you? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

For more information about the new ads downtown Chicago, check out these links:

Dear Mayor: Don't cheapen our public spaces - Chicago Tribune

Emanuel's ad quest for dollars not as easy as it sounds - Chicago Tribune

(The photos are courtesy of Bob Walker. Thanks for braving the cold on your lunch break, honey!)

LITTOF STORIES: Choosing Plan D

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 18:34:00 +0000

It's time for another LITTOF Reader Story!

What do you do when Plans A, B & C don't pan out? If you're like LITTOF Reader, Laurie, you choose Plan D.

That's right. That's what survivors do. That's what resilience is all about. And I'm all about resiliency. So I'm very excited to introduce you to Laurie- who prefers that I only use her first name. So, like Madonna she will be known by only one name. Laurie.

She e-mailed me back in January of this year to say that she was glad I had picked up blogging on LITTOF. In that e-mail, she shared that she and her husband began their modification/short sale/ foreclosure process when she was pregnant with their first child. They now have two children – a 19-month-old and a 3-year-old. It really shows how much life can happen in the face of foreclosure! Life goes on. Life is created. Children grow up!

Laurie wrote to me about their trouble and frustrations with HAMP. And her attitude while sharing about the insane runaround they received while trying to save their home, really struck me.

“We may end up in foreclosure and then bankruptcy like you. It's all going to take time to tell. Meanwhile, we love our home that we have remodeled and made our own. But it is just brick and mortar. We are excited about our future and the lessons we have learned, that we have each other. We consider it the price to pay for this painful education we have received.”

Laurie and her husband experienced the nightmare of Fed-Exing payments during a trial modification only to be kicked out of the program for non-payment. Has that happened to any of you? I can't imagine. I've actually been hearing about that happening more and more. Yet in the face of that, Laurie remained positive.

So sit back and enjoy a conversation with Laurie about life in and after foreclosure and choosing Plan D...

LITTOF: First, tell us about the house. Where is it and how long have you lived there?

LAURIE: We moved into our first home in the spring of 2006. We moved out at the end of August 2011. It was in a great suburban area of Northern California, the perfect family town. We renovated and made it out own and really loved our neighbors, the park I walked the kids to every day and our garbage man, Carlo, who stopped by every Friday and took the time to say hi to our very excited son, Max.

LITTOF: What were the circumstances that led to your foreclosure?

LAURIE: My husband is in the construction industry. When the economy tanked, banks quit lending and builders quit building. My husband would go without a paycheck for months at a time. We had really stretched ourselves, spending probably 70% of our income on our mortgage because we had faith that like our neighbors, our investment would pay off, prices would continue to rise, and we could refinance and be ok eventually.

LITTOF: Please tell us about the process thus far.

LAURIE: In 2008 we knew we were in trouble. Our home price had dropped by 30% and our income by 50%. We contacted the bank right away and stayed in touch the whole 2 year process, first trying to modify, then short sale, then foreclosure with bankruptcy for protection.

LITTOF: How long did the process take?

LAURIE: The process took from fall of 2008 until summer of 2011. Most of that time was in the roller coaster that is modification. We were told something different each time we called.

LITTOF: What has been the most challenging aspect?

LAURIE: The overwhelming lack of consistency and communication with the bank. We were told erroneous information that would take us down one path and then months later, to find out it was wrong. EX: We were told our bank would accept a modification if we just entered into a trial mod for 3 months. For 10 months we kept paying diligently and Fed Ex-ing payment in advance each month.

I eventually had the case escalated to a corporate level to see what was going on because we were told during one of my weekly calls that we were kicked out of the modification due to non-payment, then again that same day that things were ok, and then again that we were denied the mod but they didn’t know why. Corporate investigated and determined that our bank, “didn’t participate in modifications.” What a waste of time.

LITTOF: What has been your most triumphant moment thus far?

LAURIE: The day we decided to go with plan D. We decided early on to come up with a contingency plan because we had heard lots of horror stories. Plan A was a mod, Plan B was a short sale, Plan C was a foreclosure and D was bankruptcy (and foreclosure).

Plan D became our realization and actually it was very freeing knowing we had really done everything right and tried our best and it was going to be over soon and we could move on. Plan D allowed us to close a door and start planning for our future. We knew everything would be ok once we set our sights on our new reality.

LITTOF: How are you able to stay positive?

LAURIE: Actually, I am a worrier and a control freak. I unfortunately can easily get consumed with things. I have always been very conscientious about bills and paying on time and my credit has always been excellent. The stigma and what our neighbors would think bothered me at first. I prayed a lot and got support from some girlfriends and made the decision early on not to let this get the best of me. I am a Christian and so it was important for me to let go of my need to control things and give it to God. I knew I would do my best to navigate the issues but ultimately I had no control over the final outcome and I knew I would be taken care of. Things would be ok. It might not be the way I would want it, but eventually, I would see it was a blessing in disguise. It has been.

LITTOF: What is your goal in all of this?

LAURIE: To take the road less traveled by. The norm in our culture is to strap yourself down with debt, trying to have and be what the world tells you to. We are living on a cash basis now, much more aware of our spending and our goals. It opened our eyes to a way of life that is not on the rat wheel. We are free, mobile, and most importantly are dreaming again, with our heads out of the sand.

We are planning to rent until our kids are through elementary and then live in an RV…probably a 5^th wheel toy hauler and travel the country, road-schooling our kids through the middle school years and teaching them by exposing them to things they would have only read about in books.

It is fun to dream again and to plan our adventures. We have a big map and put tacks on the places we want to see. There are so many, we will have to narrow them down. It’s fun to research them and figure it all out. We have time, so it will be a work in progress.

LITTOF: What have you learned thus far?

LAURIE: Material objects can be a huge burden. It is freeing to let them go.

LITTOF: How are you better off now?

LAURIE: I am reminded of the song that goes, “I can see clearly now, the rain is gone….I can see all obstacles in my way…Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind…it’s gonna be a bright, bright, sun-shiny day.”

LITTOF: Do you have a plan for the future?

LAURIE: Oh yes, family, fun, experiencing life to the fullest, and freedom.

LITTOF: What advice would you give to someone who is either worried about losing his/her home or is actually in foreclosure?

LAURIE: It may be the best thing that has happened to you, giving you a new start and a new perspective. Don’t waste your energy trying to stay aboard a sinking ship, if foreclosure is the direction you are headed, focus your energy on a plan for a new life. A house is not a home.

LITTOF: Anything else?

LAURIE: Just want you to know that your blog really helped me in a time when I thought I was the only one. Your honesty and candid thoughts on the subject as if happened were inspiring. Thanks.

LITTOF: Thank you, Laurie. And best of luck in the future. I love your idea of road-schooling your kids! Keep in touch!

QUESTIONS FOR READERS -

- Do you have a plan D? What is it?

- Have you experienced the same runaround in a trial loan modification? What happened and how did you handle it?

About the picture- I asked Laurie to send me a picture of what represents "HOME" to her today. And this is the picture she sent. I love it!

Send me your pictures of what represents home to YOU and I'll share them on the LITTOF Facebook Page. You can send them here: loveinthetimeofforeclosure@gmail.com

Here's a story about the trouble with trial loan modifications:

Gov't Loan Mod Program Leaves Some Homeowners Worse Off - Pro Publica

The secret to happiness

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 21:04:00 +0000

This is a chair:

And this is a person:

Wanting this person to be any different than they are, would be like wanting the chair to get up and walk across the room.

No matter how much I may want the chair to get up and walk across the room, it's never going to happen.

Because it's a chair. And chairs don't walk.

Wanting a person to be different than they are in any way IS just like wanting the chair to walk across the room.

It is.

No. It is.

Don't argue with me.

Wanting the people in my life to be different than they are is a waste of time.

Having expectations that they will be different than they are is a set up for disappointment.

Wanting someone to be different than they've been the entire time I've known them is a lot like the definition of insanity- Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.

Wanting and expecting people to be more the way I want them to be as opposed to them being exactly the way that they are is not only insane and pointless, it's a lose-lose for both parties.

And it won't ever work. Much like wanting the chair to walk across the room.

Why not?

Because people are the way they are.

And I can't change them by wanting them to change.

So, what can I do?

Change myself.

Allow people to be the way they are.

Foster the ability to be great with people even when (especially when) they're not great with me.

Love them for who they are AND for who they're not.

And remember that people are the way they are.

And they're not the way they're not.

And a chair is just a chair.

And that is the secret to happiness.

The end.

Love is... being willing to say when you've been a jackass

noreply@blogger.com (Love in the Time of Foreclosure) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 06:07:00 +0000

Believe In Goodness by Rob Ryan

I love my husband. There's no question. Even when I'm mad at him, I still love him. But that doesn't mean that I always demonstrate my love. That I exemplify it 100% of the time. No. It does not. I wish it did. But I'm human. And therefore a lot of crap gets in the way of my full expression of unconditional love.

If love were the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop, I licked away the hard shell last night, exposing it.

Wait. What? A Tootsie Roll Pop? Love is the center of a Tootsi--
I know. Terrible. But just... what I'm trying to say is... sometimes the actual experience of love is hidden. Or covered up by hard, crunchy layers of... of... humanity?

Moving on.

Here's what I want to say...

Last night I saw something about myself I didn't like. Something ugly. Something that I really didn't want to own up to. Not at all.

Does that ever happen to you? You're hit by the reality that you're not as perfect as you thought you were? I know. Crazy, right? But it happened to me. Last night. Well, the truth is... it happens all the time. All. The. Time. But last night was a big one. Big enough for me to share on the blog.

the ugly truth
When it comes to my wonderful husband who I love so much, I often lack compassion. Or said another way... I can really be a heartless witch with a b. When the appropriate response would be compassion, I demonstrate annoyance and callousness. When he needs me to be gentle and kind, I become unfeeling. I said it was ugly, didn't I? It's U.G.L.Y.

the incident
Okay. In order to put this into context, we need to go back a few weeks to the moment when Bob walked full force into Malcolm's Radio Flyer cart. Barefoot. There was a sharp scream from the kitchen. Followed by a flurry of profanity. And then limping/hobbling. Followed by silence and focused breath. Breathing through the pain. Then...

"I broke my toe. It's broken."

My response?

Not, "What can I do?!"

Or, "I'm so sorry!"

Not even, "You poor baby."

No. What I said was, "You didn't break your toe." I did get him some ice, but it was more like, "Here's some ice. Put that on it and you'll be fine." Okay, if I'm being really honest, the tone was more like this: "Put this on your damn foot and stop complaining."

Yeah. Cold. I know. Horrible.

His foot hurt really bad for a few days. Or more. Like a whole week. And then he kept walking into things around the apartment. And instead of showing sympathy, I would say things like, "Stop walking into things." (As if he were doing it on purpose.) And, "You need to be more careful. Watch where you're walking." As though I'm so perfect. As if I've never accidentally walked into anything or injured myself in a dumb way. As though I didn't break my toe by accidentally kicking the door jam while running to the TV to catch the start of an episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." (It was before Tivo, okay?)

Anyway, fast forward a few weeks. Bob's still in pain. A lot. He's having a hard time walking. There's clearly something going on with his foot. He has an x-ray which shows nothing. He goes to the acupuncturist who says that it's clear that there's been some trauma to his foot. The acupuncture helps to an extent. But then he carries some furniture out to the curb and aggravates it again. Now he can barely walk.

So he puts it in a bucket of ice to bring down the swelling. Have you ever stuck your foot in a bucket of ice? Not fun. I had to do it for a stress fracture in high school. I can attest to the incredible pain. But instead of commiserating while he's sitting there with his foot in the bucket I say:

"Just breathe through the pain."

Good advice. However, the problem here is what I'm thinking in my head: "Suck it up, for God's sake."

At this point you might be asking yourself, "What the hell is wrong with you, Steph?!" Well, I'm getting there. Because last night it all came to the surface.

the breakthrough
I was pissed off because Bob couldn't help me around the house. I mean, he barely could. I asked him to help in spite of his injury. So he's hobbling around, picking up toys. And I feel like he's hobbling to make a point. To make me feel bad for asking. All I can think is that he's really milking this.

What I won't even consider is perhaps he really is in too much pain to be cleaning up the apartment. I don't want to accept that. Because if that's true, then it means that I'm a terrible person for making him help me. But I can't stop feeling like I'm now stuck doing everything. Everything! I am throwing such a pity party in my head.

I even say to Bob:

"I feel like all I do is take care of everyone else and no one ever takes care of me!"

What I wasn't admitting even to myself is that I was looking at Bob's injury as an inconvenience to me. And I only saw how it impacted me. It put me out. It made my life harder. But there was no way I would ever admit that. Because that makes me horrible. Instead, I attempted to cover it up. Which didn't work. And I took my seeding resentment out on Bob.

AGAIN... I didn't know I was doing that. I really didn't know. I knew that I wasn't being nice, but I didn't see the extent of my utter lack of compassion.

Last night I saw it. Crystal clear. I'm not even sure what it was that had me see it. Maybe the sight of my injured husband hobbling around while I barked orders and complaints at him. I saw myself from the outside. Like a fly on the wall. I finally saw myself. The lack of compassion. The cold heartedness.

What did I do then? Thankfully, I owned up to it.

"Bob," I said meekly.

No answer.

"Bob?"

No answer. He's clearly ignoring me.

"Bob!"

"I'm too pissed off to go to bed right now!"

He assumed I was going to tell him to just go to bed since I had already said a few minutes before. I suggested he just go to bed. Not in a nice way. In a "You're doing me no good anyway" kind of way.

And so I respond:

"I'm trying to apologize."

Not the best start. But I had to begin somewhere.

I continued:

"Here's the thing. I'm noticing that I have a really hard time being compassionate towards you and I don't know why that is."

Bob's look said it all.

"Ya think?!"

"I have been trying to cover for the fact that I've lacked compassion towards you but it's not working."

Again. His look tells me that this is not news to him.

"Here you are injured for weeks. In pain. Suffering. Frustrated because you don't even know what's wrong with your foot and you don't know when it will get better. And I'm completely unsympathetic."

"Yeah."

"Even worse than that. I've been annoyed by the fact that you're injured. Your injury has been annoying me. I've been a total jackass. And I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"And I promise to work on it. I want to be better at this. I really do. I'm so ashamed by my behavior."

The more I owned up to my behavior, the more I saw it. And the more I realized how awful it's been for Bob. I don't know what it is that has me withhold compassion when he needs it most. I think part of me just wants things to be normal. Life as usual. And so I don't even acknowledge the problem. As though not acknowledging it will make it not so.

At some point when I was expressing how I didn't understand WHY I'm so lacking in compassion, Bob said, "Because you resent me."

I couldn't deny it. It was yet another ugly insight. One I didn't want to be true, but when I looked honestly, I had been resenting him. Unconsciously. For what, exactly? Well... I'd been feeling unappreciated and ignored as a woman. Romance has been non-existent lately. And I've felt like we're more like two beings occupying the same space than two people in love. I've been craving more attention from Bob. I've been wanting him to go out of his way to express love and romance. And I have been resigned that it would happen. That resignation led to resentment, apparently.

And this ugly insight led to a really wonderful conversation about how things have changed since we've become parents. We both talked about what we can work on individually and as partners.

"We haven't been on the same page," Bob says.

He's right. We've been more focused on ourselves than on each other or on our partnership. And it's both of us. We can both be doing so much more. We agreed that we can start by really being PRESENT and IN THE MOMENT. And make an effort on a daily basis.

It was so awesome that we saw this last night and instead of getting angry and storming off or fighting, we calmly talked through it. We stood in each others' shoes. And in the end, our love was present. It was palpable. We got to the chewy center!

bad news/good news
You've heard of bad news/good news insights right? This insight into myself was bad news because it's such an ugly thing to see about myself. But good news that I actually and finally saw it. Because now that I SEE it. And now that I have owned up to it to Bob, I can actually impact it. I can call myself out on it. And I can ask for help.

Love is a lot of things. Sometimes it's being willing to say when you've been a jackass.

Tonight while we were having dinner on a date (After our conversation last night, Bob arranged for a babysitter and a last minute date night,) Bob said, "Compassion is letting go of being right even when you know you are." Letting go of being right... even when you know you are. To me, that's love. And so powerful.

I love you, Bob. Thank you for being my partner in every sense of the word. And for loving me through the ugly.

What do you do when you see something ugly about yourself?
Do you own up to it? How?