Broke and Poor

All my life, I've made the distinction between broke and poor. You're broke if you don't have a lot of cash to spend around, if you don't have endless reserves somewhere, but, fundamentally, you're not deprived. You're poor if the lack of money is consistent, structural, and leads to deprivations for your family. Kate and I have chosen to be broke for this stretch of our lives; she chose a career in the nonprofit sector, which doesn't pay well, and I'm a grad student with barely any income at all. We've been clear that this is, in some ways, a moral choice for us, an attempt not to live high on the hog, not to live in a destructive manner. But we've always been broke, not poor.

I wonder if the day you find out you're eligible for WIC is the day you become poor.

Kate was laid off in February, which explains a lot of the radio silence from around here. It was fucked up, and it sucked, and we're dealing with the emotional fallout as best we can. But what's hitting us most, obviously, is the economic fallout. I don't have any research funding right now, and I'm not teaching this semester. Our plan was for me to take care of X in conjunction with Uncle, and to work on my dissertation this semester, while Kate worked. Well, that plan's fucked now.

Here's the thing: there are ways in which we are, now, officially poor. Our total monthly income comes from our two unemployment checks; together, they just about cover rent, utilities, and groceries, which means anything above that--new clothes for X, plane tickets to academic conferences, dinners out with friends, baby gates to keep our kid out of the kitchen--has to come from our savings or go on credit. We couldn't afford to continue COBRA coverage for all three of us, so I had to quickly jump onto my school's insurance, which is pricey but cheaper, and X is now on Medicaid; we can afford Kate's insurance alone, after the stimulus cut, but we did consider letting her go uninsured. We qualify for WIC because we qualify for Medicaid, which we are actually kind of glad of; the food benefits we'll get will substantially cut our food costs, which will be a big savings for us. Our combined credit card debt is around $19K, most of which is hangover from our wedding and the year-long illness of our now-deceased cat, and which we are now unable to keep paying down. Our student debt is higher.

But we aren't poor in some significant ways. We've collectively got quite a chunk of money in a brokerage account; it's the remains of Kate's college fund, and my inheritance from my grandmother. Our regular savings account has another, much smaller, but not insignificant chunk. The deprivations we've done have been minor: we've both cut back on how often we go to the chiropractor. I've blown off my allergist. I've negotiated with my therapist to a lower rate. Neither of us has an unlimited MetroCard, and we don't really ever leave the neighborhood unless we have a specific appointment somewhere else. We're canceling non-essential trips that we'd have to rent cars for. We couldn't go to a recent family event that was pretty major, but was scheduled last minute in a different state, and we couldn't afford plane tickets. We haven't cut off our cable yet; we haven't canceled our home phone, though we've talked about it. Between our unemployment, the money in our regular savings account, and these sorts of frugalities, we can get through until the fall, at least, if Kate doesn't find work in that time.

But: are we just "not quite poor" yet because we still think of ourselves as broke, not poor? The reason we don't think about our investment money as real money to use is because we both think of it as the down payment on a house, once I get a PhD and a real job. But should we start thinking about it more as money we can live on? I'm scheduled to teach in the fall and spring of next academic year, but should I be looking for work--even work unrelated to my field--right now, just to be bringing in money? Should I be putting my dissertation on hold to support my family? I don't want to do any of these things. I want to keep being broke, even while being objectively poor.

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Then there's the psychological feeling attached to entering into the welfare state. Now, we around the Commune, we are commie pinko bastards; we believe that the government has an essential role to play in supporting people. We believe in socialized medicine and governments assuring a basic standard of living for all. We believe in paying our taxes when we're earning money and getting it back in the form of assistance when we aren't. But we have been, our whole lives, the people paying it out. Every April 15, we say, I'm glad I paid my taxes, for the part of it that means someone got health care, someone got a job, someone got services they needed. But we've never needed them. We have internalized that it is good to give to others. But we have also internalized that classic middle class feeling that it is shameful to rely on others. Kate has talked about feeling as if she's lost her reason for being in the family: she is the breadwinner. She supports me and X. She can't do that anymore. (Don't worry, honey, I say. Your unemployment check is three times mine. You're still the breadwinner. There's just less bread.) She didn't like that she had to fill out the application for state health insurance, putting together the paperwork for it. She shouldn't have to do this. She's the one who gets it for us as a family.

When we went in to be interviewed for health insurance, we were unsure what we'd get. We walked the ten blocks to the local Medicaid enroller's office, in a neighborhood quite demographically different from ours, but where we actually used to live. The office was in the basement of a medical plaza, and a nice older man, who everybody called Mr. M-----, took us into our office. First he decided I didn't count as part of X's family, since our adoption isn't completed yet. Then he realized Kate had filled out the wrong form, and went and got the right one. Then he told her she had brought the wrong paperwork from the Unemployment Office. But he was kind, and listened to some of the terrible details of Kate's firing, and told a horrible story of his own of getting laid off.

We went down the paperwork. "Do you want to apply for WIC?" he asked.

"No," Kate said, "we're fine."

"How does it work?" I asked. I'd heard it was a really restrictive program, lots of hoops to jump through.

"You get food for the baby," he explained.

Kate and I shared a look.

"You paid for it. Baby food gets expensive," he said.

We paid for it. We nodded to each other. "Yes, OK," Kate said.

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I joined a LiveJournal community for families on WIC, since I had heard people complain about the weird food you got. The posts confused me. I never can figure out how to use the eggs, women said. Ugh, it's too many beans. I don't drink that much milk.

We are never going to have this problem.

WIC in New York state is very pro-breastfeeding. (Very: the table on what food benefits you get lists your child as receiving, and I quote: "YOUR PRICELESS BREASTMILK!!!" Yes, the government busted out the triple quotation marks, for real.) For fully-breastfeeding mothers of children under one, you get per month:

Two 18 ounce boxes cereal
1 pound whole wheat bread
$10 cash voucher for veggies/ fruits
Three 12 ounce cans frozen juice
6 gallons of non-fat (skim) or low-fat (1%) milk
1 pound cheese
1 pound dry beans
18 ounces peanut butter
30 ounces canned fish
2 dozen eggs

Let's see. Kate drinks at least a gallon of milk a week; we eat beans, usually cooked up from dried beans, at least three times a week; we go through a pound of peanut butter a week; often we run out of our carton of eggs before the end of the week. Granted, we probably eat $10 of produce per week. That's a hell of a lot of canned tuna, so I see a bunch of tuna sandwiches and tuna casserole in Kate's future (probably while I snarf peanut butter in the background.) Kate can't eat the bread, and probably not the cereal, but they might be able to swap out coupons for rice or something instead.

Why does this work so well for us?

Because the WIC program subsidizes a very specific category of food: inexpensive sources of protein, iron, and calcium. In essence, they subsidize a vegetarian, low-on-the-food-chain diet. That's what we've always eaten, as long as I've been cooking for us, because that's what I eat, so that's what I cook. A lot of Americans don't eat like that; they don't know what to do with eggs besides have them for breakfast (quiche; souffle; spanish tortilla, scrambled eggs with cheese; added to stir fry; egg salad.) They've never cooked from dried beans (you soak them and then boil) and don't know how you eat them (a thousand kinds of soup; tacos; rice and beans; veggie burgers). Peanut butter goes in sandwiches and not much else (with apples; with celery; on crackers; in soup with coconut milk and limes; peanut butter granola bars). If you haven't cooked like this, WIC could be a pain in the ass. It's a bit paternalistic (you must eat these healthy foods! not other ones!), but it's not badly intentioned or poorly designed.


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This isn't a very coherent post. But all of these thoughts are mixed up with us all the time. Can we afford to go to our friend's bridal shower? Have you checked with the Medicaid office about our paperwork getting there? Are there any jobs posted on idealist that Kate qualifies for? Can we use our WIC checks at the Food Co-op? Is the nonprofit temp agency taking resumes?

Hopefully we'll be coming back to blogging now. It's been a rough couple of months.

X is Four Months Old

Dear X,
You are four months old now. I can't even believe it. We went to your four month check-up on Monday and you are 13 lbs 7 oz and 25 inches long. Such a big boy. Okay, actually, you are a long, skinny guy just like your mama. But so much bigger than when you arrived only four months ago.

In the last two months you have done so many new things and gone so many new places and met so many new people. Here are a few highlights:

In December you went with me and Mommy on a visit to several of your oldest relatives. We went to upstate New York and visited your Great Aunt C, your Grandma's aunt. She was so delighted to meet you. She held you and you were particularly enchanted by the bird pin on her sweater. We then went to eastern Massachusetts and stayed with your Grand Nana (Nana's Mom), Pop-Pop (Nana's Dad) and Great Aunt B (Nana's younger sister). They could not have loved you more. You loved being held by your Grand Nana and you and she talked and laughed and enjoyed each other so much! You thought your Pop-pop was wonderful, and enjoyed many good cuddles and he gave you bottles and you took long naps on his chest. Your Great Aunt B. had bought you many new clothes for Christmas and they all looked very cute on you. While in New England, we also drove up to Boston and visited with your Auntie E (mama's friend from college). Although not very experienced with small babies, she thought you were very cool and was very happy to meet you.

In January, you took your first trip on a plane when we went to Florida to visit your Pops. You were very good on your first trip and didn't cry almost at all. You slept a lot on the plane and everyone commented on what a good baby you were. You had a good time in Florida and met many new people. We stayed with Pops and his girlfriend, J and drove to Northern Florida to visit with your Aunt I (mama's friend from college) who was so amazingly happy to meet you that she almost couldn't stand it. You also met your Aunt I's mom and sister. When we returned to Pop's house, your Great Uncle A (Pop's older brother) came to meet you and was enchanted. He took a LOT of pictures with you and held you a lot. While we were in Florida, you also went on your first boat and were a very good little sailor.

In February, we went to DC to meet with other members of the IVP. You got to meet lots of other kids; babies, toddlers and big kids. You laid on the floor with the other three little babies at the gathering and laughed. I think that seeing the other older babies inspired you, because the day we left the gathering and went to our vacation house in Rehoboth Beach, you rolled over from your tummy to your back for the first time. We had a great time in Rehoboth and showed you all the places that your Mommy and I love visiting when we are at the beach.

In the last two months, you have learned how to do many new things. As I mentioned above, you learned how to roll from tummy to back at the beginning of February. Two days before you turned four months, you learned how to roll from your back to your tummy. This is your favorite trick and you do it almost any time we put you on your back. You get frustrated once you are on your tummy, because you seem to have forgotten that you can roll over to your back again. I'm sure you'll figure that out soon. You continue to stand when we balance you any time you can get us to help you. You've started being able to push from a squat to a stand by yourself, although sitting eludes you completely.

You laugh all the time, finding Mommy to be particularly funny and are becoming more tickle-ish. In the last few days, you've started discovering kisses and have made a game of trying to kiss us before we can kiss you. You've started to express excitement when you realize we are about to nurse. You grin with your mouth open. You have discovered the joy of shreiking, exploring your voice and learning new sounds. The concept of "indoor voice" eludes you completely. You are absolutely enchanting.

Much love,
Mama

The Great Rolling Over Experience

We just arrived in Rehoboth Beach after a wonderful weekend in DC (much to be said on DC later, but tonight's post is on a different topic). Over the weekend, X got to play (ie. stare at other babies and toddlers while they played, he was the second youngest) with many children and had a wonderful time.

Perhaps inspired by the antics of all the other children, he did the most amazing thing at 8pm this evening. He rolled over for the first time! It was so cool. We were giving him naked tummy in the middle of a diaper change and we were talking about what soft skin he still has and we weren't even paying that much attention to what he was up to, and boom, he rolled over! We put his diaper on and then he rolled over two more times! For the sake of posterity, I will note that he is fifteen weeks old now.

Many thanks to the many children who inspired him over the weekend to go where he had not before!

A full Year of X

Today is the day. X has been present in our lives in one form or another for one full year. Yes, that's correct, today is the day our little baby was conceived (although there is some argument it might actually be tomorrow). It's amazing to think about a full year of X. Even as a tiny fetus he had so much personality. And looking at him now, he's the same little being he was long before he was an outdoor baby. On my way out the door to work today he gave me a sloppy, almost kiss and proved to me that all the work is worth it for a loving, happy baby who is always excited to see me.

In other news, my workplace is pretty much collapsing around my ears, but that is a thought for another day.

Grand.ma and Bo.obs

Something I never expected to mind useful and in fact reassuring when I was in high school and college was a conversation with my mother-in-law, let alone a conversation about my breasts. And yet, this evening, I had a very pleasant conversation with my MIL (hereafter to be known at Grandma) about my nursing concerns. She was a breastfeeding counselor when Emily was little and hence knows more than some, and being Grandma, is quite willing to make it up when she doesn't actually know the answer. We lovingly refer to answering a question authoritatively and intelligently without actually knowing the correct answer as pulling a "Grandma's first name".

At the end of the conversation, I felt a bit more confident and certainly a little less nuts about the issue, so thanks Grandma!

Things to say Later

Things I want to blog about when I don't need to have been in bed hours ago:

1) why nursing is making me crazy at the moment

2) how crazy my milk supply appearing to disappear due to one freaking illness is making me

3) how upset my mother made me on the phone tonight

4) how pleased I am to have completed Emily's taxes and discovered that the government owes her approximately $1,000

5) how frustrated I am at the fact that I should apparently be calling my uncle (my mother's brother, not my dad's) to apologize for the fact that HE didn't call ME back

Florida from Brooklyn

I find it a bit sad, but I'm declaring an amnesty again, so that I don't stop writing because I missed a few days. I tend to miss one day and then feel guilty and keep skipping and that's how I didn't blog for months and months the last time. So...

Florida was actually pretty awesome. Seeing my dad happy was really pretty cool. He held X a total of three times, all of them instigated by J or me, but he talked about how cool a kid he was and what a good baby all the time and mentioned several times that he thought I was a wonderful mother. I've had a difficult relationship with my father over my teenage years and beyond and it is nice to be slowly digging out and starting over.

We spent two days in Jacksonville during the trip visiting my college friend and our former commune member I, who was so excited about X. It was really sweet to see her interact with X. She really is the perfect Auntie. Every kid needs someone who thinks they are miraculous and special (who isn't Mom!) On the way to Jacksonville, we recreated part of our honeymoon trip up the east coast of Florida. We stopped in Meibourne and Daytona Beach.

X coped very well, all things considered. We were on the road from 10am to 8pm, and although we stopped frequently, that was really asking a lot of him. At the end of the trip at 7pm, we ran out of bottle (on car trips, we bring bottles of expressed breast milk, so he can eat while I drive) in the middle of his snack and he started screaming so loudly that we couldn't hear each other talk. I had to pull off the highway, park at the gas station and nurse him in the back seat of the car in order to calm him down and get him to stop screaming. But he did stop screaming and fall asleep for the night, so it ended well.

X also got to meet his Great Uncle A, my father's brother, who was in Florida at the same time we were. He lives in Michigan, on one of the great lakes, so this is his yearly retreat from the cold weather. He was enchanted with X and held him many times and wanted to take infinite pictures.

We flew back to Brooklyn tonight and got in a few hours ago. I don't like flying and we had to circle JFK for 45 minutes before landing, which I was not thrilled with, but now I don't have to fly again until August when we do our west coast trip. I need to work on the flying thing before X notices my anxiety. Ah, more things to work on.