Giving too much

I was completely surprised on Thursday night to become the recipient of the Presidential Volunteer Award.  This is for having completed 400 hours of volunteer time with Girl Scouts.

My husband raised a complaint the other day that I was spending to much time volunteering.  I have to be honest that he probably has a point.  It's more then just failing to say no.  It's more then there is need.  There is always need.  

Service is something that runs very deep in me.  Maybe a little to deep.  I have to admit that I like doing all of it.  I like the look on people's faces when they hear what I do.  You might call it an addiction.  

I've tried to scale back.  In some areas, I have succeed.  I stopped doing the Cookie Area Director and the Fall Sale Service Unit Director.  In their places, i have added teaching catechism and directing the children's choir.  Still these are good changes.  I feel the need to give to my church family while still honoring the commitment I made to my scouts. 

But what about our family?  This is the question my husband raises.  That is a hard one to answer.  Our children play a large part in the things I do, but he stays largely on the outside.  And I depend on him staying on the outside.  The things he does for our family enable my volunteering.

So where does it stop? I just don't know.  I'm re-structuring my personal time (like lunch hours) because I've already made the commitments.  Next year, who knows?  Already my daughter is following in my footsteps.  I'd better not lead her to the edge.

Prairie Skirts and Sweatpants

I've neglected this blog. Truth be told, I am always a better writer when I have something to procrastinate from. Having started this blog with Theresa and Rosalie, I found that I could sit down, think, "Oh, I should write a little something for the Wise Monkeys," and then proceed, quite happily, to work on something else altogether.
So matters stood until last night as I was almost falling asleep. As I was drifting off, thinking of random, sundry, and unrelated things, I sleepily thought, "I should write an encomium on Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books."
This was not completely out of the blue, the series had come up earlier in the day when I found myself quoting Pa's line about the neighbor's axe ringing in the woods as a symbol of what it means to be an independent American.
Those of you who knew me as a child can vouch for my steadfast love for the series. I spent my childhood roaming the sage-covered hill wearing long skirts and the sweatpants which Mom had convinced me looked like pantaloons. I must say that my Mother had some rhetorical skills to convince me that sweatpants look like pantaloons because they don't - particularly dark purple or navy sweatpants. It was the nineties, however, and perhaps I cared more for warmth than I would have admitted at the time.

In reading the Little House books, starting around eight and a half, I was excited by the life that Laura presented. Making maple syrup in the big woods, discovering Indian beads on the prairie, living in a dugout, moving to South Dakota and facing the Long Winter, Laura traced her story on paper. She wrote simply, almost as if she were describing the experiences once again to Mary, her blind sister.
As an adult, I can read it without nostalgia or boredom. Yes, it is a simple tale, but it is a true tale, a story that actually happened. When I read about the long winter, I get hungry, I feel cold, I feel that there is a storm outside threatening my family. Sometimes I have to put the book down, look out the window at the sun, find a snack, or turn on the heat, to reassure myself that I am not facing a winter filled with blizzard following blizzard, while the trains cannot make it through to bring food to the starving townspeople.
When Laura became Mary's eyes, she learned to pay attention to little things, to note what color the flowers were, to describe beautiful horses with their manes blowing in the wind, to speak of the sunsets and the birds flying south in the fall. She developed the attention that is necessary to be a good writer. Out of that grew her ability to catch the mood of a moment. In the book, By the Shores of Silver Lake, Laura describes exploring the surveyors' house where the family is to spend the winter. "The largeness of the house seemed to wait and listen. It seemed to know that Laura was there, but it had not made up its mind about her. It would wait and see."
When I was growing up, Dad would laugh at me sometimes for reading the Little House books, for which he had a colorful nickname (Dad was always clever with puns and would use them unsparingly), but he would tell me that when I was grown up, I could write a story, as Laura did, telling of my childhood. Deep down in my heart, I always believed that I would, and hopefully one day I will. If I ever do, it will be in large part because Dad told me that I could be such a writer.
I hope that this post will inspire some of you to dust off the series and read them again or read them to your children. They will be worth your while.

The Mutterings

One Monday I was having a particularly bad day at work. I had forgotten something so obvious the previous Friday that I knew would screw up the rest of my week. I banged around a few things on my desk in frustration, certain choice four-letter words popping into my head. Four-letter words expressing my frustration with how I had mismanaged the situation. Four-letter words expressing my resentment at not being perfect. 

Four-letter words come to all of our minds in certain situations. Four-letter words when someone cuts us off. Four-letter words when someone offends us. Four-letter words when we are presented with a situation outside of our control.

On the morning that I am telling you about, I was struck by how the four-letter word indicated my own bad attitude. Of course I forget things. I am human. I am fallible. I am not in total control of every situation.

It struck me after my mutterings of the four-letter word, that those situations which prompt those four-letter words are exactly the situations that should prompt a short prayer for help - the situations that remind us that life is beyond our control - the situations that remind us that we are not perfect - those situations are moments for grace, moments to turn humbly to God and trust in his goodness.

In a strange way that morning, I realized that when I feel like using the choice expletives that I grew up with I should pray. It was a realization that in moments of frustration I ought to raise my mind and heart to God, instead of just spewing forth yet another four-letter word. Time for an attitude adjustment for me, Christine Feltes.

What My Free (Almost Free) Health Insurance Actually Costs Me (and You)

Ah, health insurance benefits . . . not the funnest or funniest topic to start in on a blog. Unfortunately, it’s a topic I deal with a lot (Boo!). As a Physical Therapy Aide for a local clinic, I do a lot of calling, sitting on hold and then quickly writing down a client’s benefits. But today, I’ll start with my own adventures in Obama Care.

Let me start with a caveat. I am not an ultraconservative, Rush Limbaugh-worshipping Republican who has an ax to grind with anything our president Obama touches (that would be my dad). I consider myself apolitical and apathetic, not that I don’t care about the issues, but that I feel the political situation is so corrupt and entrenched that the chances of me actually getting my way politically are highly slim. That’s also unlikely because I’m sort of an oddball politically. I’m Pro-life and Pro-freedom-of-religion. On the other hand, I’m also a Pro-green conservationist, Anti-war, who is way more liberal than most of my family members about social issues.  I usually vote for a 3^rd party candidate; Green, Libertarian or Constitution Party candidates have all gotten my votes. Not because I am suffering under the delusion that one of them would win, but because I want to use my vote to say “This one tax payer hates your two stupid parties”. I vote my conscious as much as I can. As Ralph Nadar said in the 2000 election- “The lesser of two evils is still evil”.

I originally signed up for Obama Care the week before the exchanges closed. My husband was already covered by Medicare, and my children were already covered by Child Health Plan Plus (CHP+)- so it was just me.  I found a plan that I could actually afford for myself ($1.10 a month was my premium, and my deductible was $6,600). After I hit the deductible, all further expenses would be covered at 100%. The chances of me hitting the deductible if I have a good year and avoid the 3 C’s  (Car Accident, Cancer or Caesarean Section) are virtually nil. (Which is why the insurance company can afford to offer this plan to begin with!) Basically, this is a catastrophic coverage plan (wait- weren’t those outlawed?).  The tax credit (the amount that the insurance company would receive from the government AKA the American People were paying on my behalf) was $294 a month. Since my health care expenses since I’ve left the zoo have been $0 annually, I figured this was my best bet. 

In May, I decided to use my insurance for the one time I would predict needing it for the year- to get an overdue Well-Woman Exam. After all- preventative care was covered at 100% and no deductible applies, right!? That is supposed to be everyone’s situation that has insurance now- sort of a law- the Affordable Care Act thing.

In July, I receive a bill from my insurance company for $563. This is a surprise to me because I am still assuming that my responsibility for the Well Woman Exam with routine blood-work and a pap smear will be $0. I call the insurance company. It turns out that the majority of the blood-work my doctor ordered as preventative care is not covered under my insurance plan. Somebody shot the preventative care balloon with a pellet gun! 

Preventative care is valuable, the doctors tell us. I understand the need for it- that is why I had gone in the first place. But it is rather ironic that a plan will pay 100% for your healthcare when you are completely well and 0% for your healthcare if you have any kind of problem (isn’t that when you need the healthcare most?). The most ironic thing about Preventative Care: If you choose to have a routine colonoscopy to check things out, that is considered preventative care. Unless- during the colonoscopy- they find a polyp. Then, the colonoscopy is no longer preventative and is probably 1000s of dollars. Mid inspection you go from free to cha-ching. Sounds pretty terrible if you ask me.

Another insurance word I hate is “coverage”.  According to one insurance plan I called recently, their client had coverage, but she had a $200 copay per visit.  $200 is over our typical charges for each visit. It doesn’t sound like the patient is very covered after all! This also applies to people who have a high deductible. They are technically “covered” but when they receive a bill for a couple thousand dollars because they haven’t reached their deductible yet, they probably don’t feel very covered. A lot of these people will never reach their deductible. I feel especially badly for those who pay hundreds a month for a plan. In our community, many of the working class people have these sorts of plans, and that means a whole lot of dishes to wash, shelves to stock or rooms to clean to be able to pay the bill.  How much “benefit” is their insurance to them, really?

As you get older, your health insurance costs go up as well. My aunt and her husband, both in good health and semi-retired, pay nearly as much for their monthly health insurance as I pay for my family’s rent. Of course, I think it is a better plan. Still, I can’t imagine ever being able to pay that much for health insurance. In a world where citizens in some countries are starving, health insurance really looks like another American luxury.

Then there is the tax credit. Many people (myself included) opted for plans that they could afford because they qualified for a tax credit. Sounds like a good idea, right?  First of all, somebody is paying that money to the health insurance company. It’s not like it’s free money, and it is not like they don’t actually collect it. If the health plan receives $294 a month for as non-existent of a plan as mine, how much are the American People paying for a plan that actually has a decent deductible? A funny aside- We were recently watching an episode of Northern Exposure where someone didn’t want to get into a fight because they had a high deductible of $500. Now, a plan with a deductible as low as $500 is virtually unheard of. 

At the end of the tax year, will my health insurance tax credit mess up my tax refund? That is another question that hasn’t clearly been answered. It most likely depends on how much or little the person makes. Still, our family uses our refund to pay for anything extra or unusual that we can’t pay out of our ordinary budget- licensing and insuring our cars, maintenance, doctor bills. Large or unexpected expenses. I’m sure a lot of other people do likewise.  I’m curious to see how the next tax season unfolds for the American People.

It seems the clear winners in Obama Care are the insurance companies. If your income is low enough to qualify for Medicaid, then you probably are a winner, too, depending on your outlook and situation. With my new pregnancy, I was luckily able to switch from my exchange plan to Medicaid- a far better situation for me and my family. Still, I know every new member of Medicaid is still being paid for by someone. It’s not magic, people. At least with Medicaid, the dollar amount paid by the American People actually will provide real benefits to those covered. The losers of the Obama Care system appear to be those who make too much money to qualify for the real benefits, but not enough to pay the higher premiums of health insurance. This encompasses many in the middle class.  At a certain high point of cost, I argue that the plan is no longer a benefit, and the person would be better off without. Except if they had a catastrophic event. So now, we just need a way to predict the future, and all will be well.

Fixing the system? My sisters are big fans of not just bitching, but fixing. Despite the title of the blog, I am not too wise, but there are things we could try. I see a moderate deductible partnered with a Health Savings Account as having a lot of potential. If the government set everyone up with a HSA for the same amount as the tax credit they are giving to the insurance company, it would go a long way towards the person’s yearly medical expenses.  Lowering premiums is a pipe dream- isn’t going to happen, but would be nice!  Of course, there is my favorite fix to Obama Care- NOT unfairly taxing those who still can’t afford health insurance or opt not to buy it (after all it is still their money and they should have a choice with how to spend it)! Another aunt has suggested setting up government-run hospitals and clinics that anyone can use for free or a low copay. Probably would cost less than Obama Care.  Putting everyone on Medicaid? Sounds nice, but look to Eastern Europe and Canada for lessons on how this might affect our own economy! My dad, strangely enough, has long held one of my favorite ideas. Eliminate all health insurance. Each person pays his or her health costs directly. Without the insurance company middle men, health care costs would come down, and people could actually afford to pay their own bills. A decent HSA would go a long way in making this plan work.  Are we better or worse off with Obama Care? It depends on who you are and how much money you make . . . Is the healthcare system fixed? Hardly .  . 

Trash Bags! What?

The other day, I was out grocery shopping. Moving up and down aisles, I checked items off of my essentials list - those things that I need to survive the week. Vegetables into my basket - some meat - some eggs - yogurt for the early morning breakfasts - down the list I traveled as I moved along the aisles. Ah, the next item - trash bags - I wandered to the cleaning supply aisle.
I am a leisurely shopper, one of those annoying people who discuss all sorts of personal matters with family over the cell phone while grocery shopping. I find it makes my shopping less stressful if I am chuckling with one of my sisters over her child's antics or listening to my young brother talk about the wildlife he's spotted lately. This being the case, I didn't really take the time to ponder the trash bags other than to select the best buy and put it into my basket.
Later, when I was at home, the absurdity of what I had just done struck me. Putting the lavender-scented trash bags away under the kitchen sink, I thought, "Wow! I just bought something that I will only throw away! I spent money so that I could throw even more of my stuff away."
Perhaps our trash bags do hint something about our lifestyle. Growing up, my father was opposed to the idea of trash. He composts as much as he can, saves aluminium cans and glass bottles, and burns all paper products. As a teenager, I was embarrassed by his hatred for waste. I wanted to be normal, not to have to tell people, "That's the burn trash; that's for cans; those carrot peelings go into the compost pail." I wanted, always, to get rid of the stuff that I deemed unnecessary.
Now, though, I'm left pondering. What culture doesn't reuse as much as possible? I must be well-off to even consider throwing away my wilted lettuce or not using a crumpled piece of paper. How many things have worth that I consign to the lavender-scented trash bags? Dad's actions regarding waste are starting to make sense. Dad wasn't motivated by the green movement, his philosophy went deeper than that. It was a philosophy that held that things ought not be wasted. Perhaps, his philosophy was deeply influenced by his mother, who came of age during the great depression and later fed a family of five boys on a minimal budget. She didn't have to worry about throwing things away, the boys had to stay alert to make sure that they got their fair share of food.
Perhaps there is a place for trash bags in the world, but I am now convinced that I ought to ponder what it is. I see no need in being wasteful, just because I can be.

Turn Off The Timer

A very dear friend of mine was given a timer by his doctor. Three months to five years, he was told. I suppose in theory that gives you time to put your affairs in order. 

 

But who wants order. Imagine getting to your last day, looking back and only having memories of organizing your life. Or getting to a time when your body stops working at the same time you feel you finally have time to do something. 

Now is the time for living, for doing.  If someone is inconvenienced because you didn't plan well, so be it. I'm sure they will never look back on the time you spent together and wish that it was spent putting your affairs in order. 

Back to work

I hate to admit it, but I breath a small breath of relief to go back to work. It isn't that I don't love my family. This is my routine. And I am very much a creature of habit. 

I don't like the phrase "working mother". I've never met a mother who didn't work. Some if us just have the dubious honor of working outside the home.  This comes with its own set of difficulties, not the least being "Mommy Guilts". I suppose all moms get them, but those I'd us who walk out the door each morning get more then our share. 

I have been our bread winner for twelve and a half years now. This was never by design. I always thought I would stay home with our kids. It just turned out this way. 

Now, don't get me wrong. My husband does a marvelous job with our kids and we are all so blessed to have him. It's still hard to even be sympathetic when he calls to vent about a bad day with our kids. It's not that I feel I could do any better. Sometimes I wish I had the chance. 

Still, I take a little breath of relief to walk out some mornings. I don't think I'll ever get over the guilt of that relief. 

The Beginnings

One night, I sat talking with my sister on the phone. She lives in Colorado and I live in Wyoming, which necessitates long telephone conversations, in which we frequently solve the world's and our own problems. We are adults, we think similarly on somethings, differently on others, but we are able to talk about our opinions, while being respectful of each other. If you'd like to follow some sisters as they explore, explain and engage the world that we live in, then this is the blog for you. We promise to state our opinions respectfully, and if you disagree, we ask you to disagree respectfully in order that we can maintain a good environment on our blog. Come back soon for some actual thoughts!