Finances and kids: how we do it

Another good question today, from a blog reader:

I would love to know what you both do for a living and how you plan to afford all the children God brings to your family.  I would love an insight to your lifestyle, ways you can cut, ways you can afford adoptions, etc.




This is an excellent question! 

It was honestly always a given that once we had children, I would be an at-home mom.  We both felt strongly about this, and it was a philosophical/spiritual/foundational decision for us.  We knew this might one day mean that we wouldn't own a home, or wouldn't go on vacations, or would have to leave California, but we were dedicated to living off of Kevin's income once we had children.



Kevin is an Electrical Engineer currently working in the aerospace industry.  We are so grateful to God for how He provides for us through Kevin's career.  My husband is a hard worker and is extremely financially savvy.  He does our own taxes, plans for our retirement, is frugal beyond compare and makes a mean Excel spreadsheet.  Love this guy!


As for me, I don't earn any sort of income.  I'm home with my children full-time, and I also homeschool the three oldest.


We drove majorly old cars that we already owned the first five years we were married (a 1988 Toyota Corolla and a 1988 Lincoln Towncar)--until our number of children exceeded the number of seats.  Those old cars were certainly nothing to look at, but we had no car payments thankyouverymuch.  When we have needed to buy another car (first our minivan in 2007, and now more recently our passenger van), we have bought them used and shopped around for a good value and good financing.  And, we're still driving the Corolla.


We have never taken fancy vacations and spend very little on entertainment.  I rarely go to Starbucks and we don't eat out much.  We DO buy things, don't get me wrong, but overall we're not huge spenders.

As for our first adoption, we used our home equity line of credit to front the money.  We also received a $4,000 adoption subsidy per child (so $8,000 total) from Kevin's employer at the time, but not until the adoption was finalized a year or so later.  We've been able to take advantage of the Federal Adoption Tax credit each year, until this year when the government made it refundable and, after a brutal audit, we received the rest of it in full (about $9,000).  Thank you US government and IRS!


As for our current adoption, we have received some money in grants and from dear, generous friends who fundraised for us, and are hoping to take advantage of the Federal Adoption Tax Credit in its refundable form again.  In terms of fronting the money, again, we pull it out of our home equity line of credit where we have an extremely low interest rate.


I feel like I want to stop to say that international adoption is expensive.  No doubt about it.  But it's not the only option.  Our country has an orphan crisis of its own, and we desperately need families open to children right here in the United States.  Don't write foster care or foster-adoption off because you think it's more messy or risky than international adoption--adopting from a foreign country can be messy and risky too.  (Have you read my blog lately?)  And when you adopt (or foster) through the state/county, the cost is minimal, if anything.


When we moved to Denver three years ago, we bought a 5-bedroom fixer-upper in a nice Denver neighborhood, that Kevin has done the vast majority of the work on himself.  Ripping out subfloors and tile, installing all sorts of stuff, etc.  We dream of one day adding on to our house by building a second story, and of having a lovely yard with a nice big patio and nice new fence, but that won't be happening anytime soon.  And, we're cool with that.  Living in the city of Denver, we have NO HOA fees and our property taxes are LOW.  Really, really low.


I buy all of our clothes (and most of our other stuff) from the thrift store.  My kids love it.  I love it.  Kevin loves it.  We also joyfully accept hand-me-downs.  I think for the most part we look decent and put-together--no need for things to be new to look nice, in my opinion.


When we need furniture, I usually find it on Craigslist.  Such.great.deals.  Three years ago for example, I scored the Pottery Barn square Montego dining table that seats up to 14 people, with two leaves, in perfect condition, for $300.  Shopping for stuff on Craigslist means you gotta be persistent and patient, but it's rather exciting when it pays off!


I don't clip coupons, but look for good deals at the grocery store and try to limit my trips there, forcing myself to be creative and use up the stuff that we have.  I don't usually buy organic (sorry) and I HATE wasting food.


My kids eat oatmeal for breakfast every.single.day.  Super cheap.  And, it's healthy.  They also usually eat PB&Js on whole wheat bread for lunch, with fresh veggies.  Also pretty affordable.


We don't own any fancy gadgets, and that includes smart phones, ipods(!), flat-screen TVs, cable or satellite TV, and even TiVo.  Yes, we live in the dark ages, and no, we don't really mind!  :) 


But what about college?  If our kids decide to go to college (and most of them probably will), we will certainly do what we can to make that happen.  But will we pay for 100% of each child's housing, tuition and books?  Probably not.  And I think that's okay.  While we will support our kids as best we can (and that includes helping them find a job and allowing them to live at home while going to school), we can't compromise our convictions regarding marriage and children and adoption on account of the college issue. 


Hopefully this gives you a little insight into how the Heldts roll.  I occasionally do spend more money at Target than I really need to, but we try to live simply, cut costs where we can, and work at being content.  I hope that my children can one day look back and see that we loved them dearly, that family came first for us, and that we did the best we could to point them to Jesus.  I hope they can remember the beauty of a carefree, simple childhood spent out in the weed-filled backyard digging up worms, eating otterpops in the summertime, and living life together. 


Perhaps one day we will need to downgrade our standard of living even further, and if that is the case , so be it.


It's not fancy, but it's our life.  And I kind of really love it.


Thanks for asking!

Driving a status symbol

I alluded earlier to the fact that we had made an exciting purchase.  Which we picked up on Saturday.

What is the purchase, you ask?  And why is Mary Lu so very happy about it?

Well, it's a van.

A huge van.

A huge, 15-seat passenger van.

Eek!

Never thought I'd own me one of these.  Well, until Anna was born and we figured out the whole openness to life/adoption/we're-going-to-end-up-with-a-slew-of-kids thing.  Then I knew that, most likely, we'd eventually need some sort of behemoth car.

And "eventually" has become "now", because our swagger wagon only seats 8 people.  Meaning that once we bring our girls home from Ethiopia, our family of nine won't fit, period.  Boo.

Thus the need for a larger vehicle.

And it doesn't get much larger than a passenger van, now, does it?

Check me out, turning to look behind me before I put that puppy in reverse.  I am so awesome.


I have to tell you that I was so, SO intimidated to own one of these.  How on EARTH was I going to drive it?  But, you know what?  It actually is turning out to be somewhat less intimidating than our minivan was when we first bought it.  For some reason, the leap from a sedan to a minivan felt more foreign than when I was driving this guy on Saturday.  The visibility out the windows is actually superior to that of our Toyota Sienna, and the mirrors are better too. 

The main issue will be, ahem, parking.  BUT, I'm HORRIBLY nervous about parking our other van anyway so I am well accustomed to parking with lots of empty spots around me, and in the back of the lot.  :)

I also have to tell you that I am so opposed to cars being seen as status symbols (gross!)...BUT, I've decided that this is one status symbol I am proud to own, and proud to drive.  Dang proud.  Proud enough to even make me cry a little as we brought it home.

Because OH MY GOODNESS, how rich are we?!  We have five, soon to be SEVEN, beautiful children.  We had to splurge and buy an insanely huge car because our current one isn't insanely huge enough to hold all of the love and relationships in our family!  We have had to further put off our landscaping plans (our yard, front and back, is a bit of a disaster) and other house updates (A/C, anyone?)  in lieu of receiving two extra-special daughters with their extra-special chromsomes and extra-special hearts.  Because not only are we paying for this adoption, but we have had to buy a car, too.

So, yes.  People may see me screech chug lurch drive up in my massive, commercial-ish van with all manner of children spilling out and think, ohmygosh how embarrassing to have one of those for your car.  But the reality?  Our riches far exceed anything this earth has to offer.  God is so incredibly good to us.

And, it will mean that our daughters are home.

Because right now the new passenger van is just sitting parked, empty, next to our house.  We don't need it yet.  Until our daughters are here, we all still fit into the swagger wagon we bought in 2007.

So come home soon, girls.  We are getting more anxious by the day to kiss your sweet faces and have you here, with us, where you belong.  We have a status-symbol car big enough to fit all of us now, and we can't wait to begin our life together.  We love and miss you terribly.  Hurry home.

The Queen Mary

These are rare photos of Mary Lu Lu sitting confined in something.

She is always.always.always on the move.  She began crawling months ago.

The thing is, Mary wants so badly to keep up with her siblings.  If they're outside, in the backyard, she makes a beeline for the door.  Sadly she hasn't mastered stairs yet and is therefore unable to navigate her way down onto the deck.  So she'll pause, and sit there and cry, and watch everyone else tearing around on their bikes and digging in the dirt and climbing the peach tree. 

I am actually pretty sure that's what she's doing here.  Watching her siblings play.

It's been interesting seeing Mary becoming more and more involved in the bigger kids' lives.  Ever since she was born, THEY have included HER in their goings-on (playing pretend became way more fun when there was a live baby to use!), but now SHE is finally able to participate a little bit.  Just the other day she sat at Anna's Barbie house and, well, played Barbies.  So cute!

I'm continually amazed by the "plight" of what I shall call "subsequent babies".  You know what I mean, right?  Your first baby kinda becomes your life and your focus.  You think about what they're eating and wearing and doing.  But by child number five, well, they sort of just assimilate into the rest of the family.  When you're not looking.  Because you're distracted by someone throwing a temper tantrum because you said they couldn't have chocolate chips for breakfast.  Some people think this is sad.  If they could spend a day following Mary Lu around, though, they might find out that it's actually pretty awesome.

Morning. 

Four kids begging, "Can we get Mary up?  Can we get Mary up?"
Lots of playing and cuddling on the floor. 

 (After Mommy has properly nursed and changed Mary.  A hungry baby is not so fun.)

Noon.

If, at any point during the day, I make an attempt to feed/change/cuddle Mary, I will surely have no less than two other children swarming around, making silly faces and noises at her.  This may or may not annoy Mommy.  This may or may not make Mary incredibly happy. 

Night.

If the children get wind that I am putting Mary down for the night, there will be much hanging on me and "night night!"s and kissy noises and various small people begging to put her down in her crib.

So, yes, they have somehow begun to initiate their baby sister into their world.  More and more she is becoming "one of them."  Slightly terrifying, because now there will be FIVE of them as opposed to "four of them and a baby."  These kids have a strong bond.  There may be five and a half years between my oldest and my youngest, but oh how I wish you could see Mary's face when Anna changes her diaper.  So.much.love. 

I know without a doubt that this is why Mary began crawling when she did.  Neither of my other babies crawled (or reached ANY sort of physical milestone) early.  But she's ready.  To be part of the group.  To shout at the squirrels and play in the backyard playhouse.  To dig for worms.  Mary loves her mommy and daddy, but she lives for sibling interaction.

And I can't say I blame her, because aside from the worm excavations, my kids do some pretty fun stuff.  I do wonder about how her personality will be shaped by all this unconditional sibling love.  Kaitlyn was utterly doted on by her three older siblings...and now pretty much runs our household.  Now there are FOUR kids treating Mary like a queen.  We better watch out!  :)

Truly a joy to sit back and enjoy the relationships between your children and see the dynamics working themselves out.  That's why the above picture makes me smile.  Five kids.  All together.  Including the baby.  Who is, undeniably, the queen.

How do you do it: 5 kids at a well-check

I get asked a lot how I manage various aspects of having five small-ish children.  The honest answer is, I-don't-know, and not-always-very-well.  The other just-as-honest part of my answer is, some things about having five kids so close in age are actually easy.  I'm not gonna lie.  When I say this most people either a) don't believe me, or b) want to canonize me for sainthood.  

That being said...

Some things are NOT as easy. 

Part of our adoption homestudy stipulated every single person in our family have a medical.

Eesh.

All of my kids were due for theirs, so a couple of months ago, I made the appointments.  Which would all fall on the same day.  Two kids in the morning, an hour-and-a-half break for lunch, and two kids in the afternoon.  (Mary had just had one of her baby well-checks the week before so she was simply along for the ride.  She likes being included like that.)

We showed up to the office bright and early, me and my brood.  Anna and Kaitlyn, pictured up at the top in their paper gowns (that they think are sooooo cool), were first. 

There is a lot of waiting at the doctor's office.  Lots and lots of waiting.  Thankfully there was a basket of books in our room.

Mary likes to spread out on the floor.  She had a blast crawling around.

Ideally they would also include long chapter books in the waiting room, because Anna polished off the basket's contents in about fifteen minutes.

Kaitlyn loved looking at books with Mary Lu. 

Now the girls' physicals themselves went just fine.  No issues.  No big deal.  Except, you know, the doctor (NOT our actual pediatrician who we {love} but the doctor who happened to be in that day) now probably thinks something is wrong with Kaitlyn's cognitive abilities.  She WOULD NOT make eye contact with him.  Or speak to him.  Wouldn't answer his questions.  Could not be coerced into hopping like a bunny, or telling him who she likes to play with.  Nothing.  "Does she talk at home?" he asked in a concerned voice.

Yes, she talks at home.

All.the.time.

Then, when he was attempting to get a reflex by tapping her knee with his happy little knee-tapper, well, he couldn't get one.  Oh how he tried.  Tap, tap.  Nothing.  Tap, tap, tap.  Still nothing.  He picked up a much heavier medical object and tried it again.  NOTHING.  It was at this point that he started LAUGHING.  "I don't believe it," he said.  "I've never had a child so young do this before!"

Awesome.

SO, he had her clasp her hands together (for some unknown reason she decided to comply.)  He tapped her knee again.  Sure enough, the reflex came.  Because she'd been clasping her hands, and therefore was unable to willfully block the reflex.

Yes folks, my THREE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER was so extremely stubborn that she refused to do the reflext test.  Oh, my.

LUNCH!!!!! 

Oh how happy I was to get out of that office, if even for a mere 90 minutes.  After the knee-jerk fiasco, I was done.  Cooked.  Exhausted.  Amused, yes--don't get me wrong, it was all pretty hilarious, and really where would I be without my sense of humor--but exhausted.  And if you can't tell by the picture, we utilized Taco Bell for our mid-day meal.  We're a real class act, I tell you.  But don't underestimate my sense of accomplishment upon our arrival.  Because my GPS, which I SWEAR has a personal vendetta against me based on the fact that it regularly gives me directions to deserted strip-malls filled with empty warehouses, steered me wrong AND I ended up going the wrong way down a one-way city street.  (That, however, was not the GPS' fault.  That was just me being an idiot.)

{Oh and did you see my swagger wagon in the picture?  It's like it's part of the family or something, posing with the kids for the camera!}

The kids all LOVED dining where I used to work at what I affectionally refer to as T-Bell, and the cashier thought they were all so cute that she gave them free kids' meal toys--you can see Mary with hers.  I think she's rather pleased.

After we got our fill of cleavage-baring 3-D comic book characters on the kids' meal toys burritos and cinnamon twists, we returned to the doctor's office for Yosef and Biniam's appointments.  Where the doctor wouldn't really believe me that Biniam has ADHD.  (It was at this point that I was regretting choosing fast appointments over our regular doctor.  He would have actually listened to me.  He would also have built better rapport with Kaitlyn.  Maybe.)  Of course all the while Biniam is performing strange physical feats and running around in his camoflauge undies with his tongue hanging out.  Riiiiiiight.  He's just a typical five year old boy.  Who can't ever find his shoes and gets distracted at the drop of a hat and blurts things out without thinking and doesn't even know why.  Uh huh.  Sure.

FINALLY...at 3:15 pm...we left the office for good.  We'd shown up at 9:30 that morning.  And so we were tired.  Bedraggled.  Grumpy.  It was upon walking in the door at home that I received the phone call saying we could not adopt the children we thought we were adopting.  You know, the whole reason for the physicals.

Sweet.

So.  How do I do it?  How do I manage five kids at a doctor's appointment?  Oh, you didn't read earlier? 

I don't know.

Not always very well.

I'm not going to say it's easy though.  Do-able, yes.  Exciting, always.  Worth it just to see Kaitlyn spiting the doctor, absolutely.

See, these are the adventures of being an at-home-mom-to-many.  If you have one sweet little cherub that you pamper and coo at after he/she gets his/her shots, right before you tote him/her over to Whole Foods for your organic wheatberries, well, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my day at the doctor's office--FYI, no time for tears around here when my kids get poked with a needle.  There's just too darn many of 'em.  But don't worry, they buck right up. 

Because they know we're going to Taco Bell afterwards.

That, friends, is how I do it.

I think it was the 4th of July...

Yes, a reference to an old Chicago song.

The lyrics are fitting.

You see, Independence Day was three short days ago.

I think we missed it.

My friend Jeannett over at Life Rearranged shared about their super fun celebrations (in which we used to happily participate, before we moved to Denver. I think about Andy and Jeannett every July Fourth, actually. They know how to throw a good party.)

Friends on Facebook left festive statuses about fireworks, baseball games, cold beer, BBQs.

People have fun on the 4th of July.

How did WE spend the day, you ask?

Well, we spent it sick. Me and the kids. Sick.

No fireworks. No hotdogs or hamburgers or Santa Maria style tri-tip. (Sniff, sniff.) We DID have Chinese take-out for dinner, which was great at the time...

Then that evening, Kaitlyn's fever turned into, well, the stomach flu. She woke up from a night terror (YOU don't have a child who regularly "wakes up" in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder, wringing her hands, who you can't actually wake up, or comfort, or console?) and mumbled something about feeling like she needed to throw up. But then she seemed okay. We brought her to sit with us, however, just in case--plus, she'd already had two night terrors that night. Kevin was cuddling with her, and all of a sudden...well...yeah. She got sick. All over him, and the couch, and our area rug (which seems to always get thrown up on when Kaitlyn has the flu. I swear, she aims for it!)

So, our Fourth of July was spent soothing our sweet three year old and cleaning up vomit. Glamorous, eh?

Honestly, and I know this is going to sound contrived...or unbelievable...but...I felt like in so many ways, God spoke to my heart that night. Truly. Clearly it wasn't the flag-waving, pie-eating, all-American (and vomit free) Independence Day we all feel so entitled to in our country. Instead it was spent doing difficult things for a little girl that I love.

As I combed Kaitlyn's hair, wet from her late-night shower, and pulled it back into a little ponytail, and told her how brave she was and how much Mommy loves her, and how beautiful she is...and as she shakily sat in my lap and said she wanted to be near me, all I could think about was my love for her and how amazingly blessed I am to be her mom. This work that we do, we parents, this in-the-trenches-in-the-middle-of-the-night stuff, is precisely what Jesus is talking about when He says that doing something for one of the least of these is doing something for Him. No, it doesn't sound as cool as working in a home for the destitute and dying in Calcutta, but that's not where God has called me to be. He called me to marriage and to motherhood. And I interface with "the least of these" every.single.day. In my very home.

My vocation doesn't take much sacrifice when things are all going well. Perfectly behaved children, in the best of health, who are on the ideal sleep schedule, don't drive me to my knees before the Lord. (Not that I would know. Remember the night terrors?)

It is in the darkness, seeing my daughter sick and afraid in the middle of the night, seeing my husband tenderly care for her without complaint, when I think about God's hand in her life. These are the moments when I give thanks for all the responsibility (and yes, it's a TON of responsibility), for all that God has entrusted to me. Five precious little ones. Some days this feels overwhelming. Maybe most days.

Yet somehow, as I sprayed the heck out of my couch with Febreze, and hunted down a bucket to keep by Kaitlyn's bedside for the remainder of the night, and laughed with Kevin as we heard exploding fireworks in the distance--the only tangible reminder that it was, indeed, the Fourth of July--I felt a familiar but unique peace, and joy, that my life is what it is. Blessed. A catalyst for growth and change amidst sacrifice and occasional (though hopefully someday, regular) self-denial. And a life spent with an amazing husband who puts love into action without so much as a thought.

For the past few months I've felt a weariness in my calling. Yet over the past few days, I've felt renewal. It came at a cost, yes. Maybe it always does.

Nope, not the day I expected to have. Not at all. In some ways it was better. At the very least, it was important. Jesus blessed my heart and further revealed the magic of motherhood and the blessing of marriage, all in the simple act of Kevin and I tending to our sick little girl when we ought to have been celebrating with pomp and circumstance.

{And there could not have been anything cuter than Kaitlyn eagerly telling her siblings the next morning about her escapades the night before. They all listened with rapt attention of course. Kaitlyn was the hero of the day. Adorable.}

Now to replenish my Febreze supply.