Tag Archives: mom

Update on the Whole My Mom’s Finances are Fucked Situation

Sorry for the foul language, but hey, when things are fucked, there isn’t a better way to describe the situation than the appropriate terminology.

The saddest of all is that THEY SHOULDN’T BE FUCKED. At first, I felt super guilty for letting my dad convince me that he had $50,000 set aside for my wedding to spend without, I don’t know, asking to see all of his bank statements before signing the contract for my venue and vendors. Ok, I still feel super ridiculously guilty about this.  I feel guilty for never saying thank you in the right way for this generous gift.

BUT – it turns out, the $50,000 wedding was just one financial mistake in a list of what may be hundreds. Even if I were to repay my mother back every penny, she’d still be in quite the pickle. And I’m willing to repay every penny (my father would never let me do that, but he’s not here anymore, so there’s that.)

I’ve run the numbers. I put them in front of her face. I try to share how each year, not counting the tax debts and family loan she’s overspending her income $40,000-$50,000. Despite her $50/$60k or so after tax income with her SS and Pension, she’s still draining her IRA. She keeps saying she’ll take money out of the IRA. I keep telling her the IRA won’t last forever or anywhere near it.

The house has to go. I really, really, really don’t want it to go. I know it’s just a house. It’s just a stupid piece of property with a dumb room that I lived in for my first 17 years of life. It’s just a dumb piece of wood that has so many memories good and bad all jumbled up in it that I see maybe twice a year if I manage to make it out to the east coast that often and with it I can escape back to childhood and feel like there’s some sense of stability in the crazy fucked up world, but that’s not enough reason to keep a house that’s costing my mother $40,000+ a year to maintain and that isn’t even counting big fixes like… needing a new oven (it hasn’t worked in years now) or a roof or carpeting or anything else.

But I tell her over and over again that the house needs to go, and now that I’ve run the numbers, sooner than later. I tell her I’d love if there was a way to keep it, but there isn’t, and the best thing to do financially is to sell it ASAP. That means starting work on getting it ready for sale NOW. But she’s down in Florida in her winter condo, swimming for a few months. I’ll give her this winter — her abusive husband just died and left her with a bunch of unexpected debts and she needs to just get away and have some time to relax and not think about it. But then she’ll say in summer it’s too nice out and she has to go to the pool and she doesn’t have time to clean. My sister, who lives in the house for free, btw, works a minimum wage job and always says she is too tired to help with anything (her job does require her to be on her feet all day) but she lives there for free and really is no help… physically or financially….

I wish there was some way to have reasoned with my father about his spending… but he’d just blame my mother for HER spending. Well, they both spent too much. I understood and empathized with him wanting to spend his retirement income before he passed away. But he didn’t need to buy a zillion worthless paintings and sculptures at local art fairs (that now represent a rather large collection which has to be sold or donated or trashed) or all the worthless “collectables” and my mom didn’t have to spend so much on shopping and they both probably should have moved to a smaller property a long time ago (vs buying a second home which was cheap to buy but expensive to own in Florida) and…

I just feel absolutely sick because no matter how many different ways I spin the numbers they don’t work unless she sells the home. The whole tax situation is a trainwreck as well, as we’re now awaiting to find out what penalties will be assessed on some very late taxes that he refused to let my mother file on time and lied to her about having the correct amounts paid off (maybe he thought he did, I think he lost his mind in these last few years.)

You know, even at the end, my mom had to rush around to find a cemetery plot and paid top dollar because my father couldn’t handle thinking about these things and kept putting it off, despite being diagnosed with a terminal illness 13 years ago and told he had 2 years to live. Even after all that. So my mother ended up spending god knows what on the cemetery plots for both of them and funeral home expenses and all that, plus a brunch at a decent restaurant afterwards and poof there goes the money that my father said was saved for my sister’s wedding! Oh, and there was no liquid assets to speak of so my mother had to put it all on her credit card. My uncle did offer a $30k loan after we asked him for help to pay off the bills but that’s coming due next year as well and I’m sure he wants his money back and I unofficially said I’d be on the hook for it if she couldn’t pay or some reason. They have a legal agreement signed so he gets proceeds from the house when it’s sold. All that, just to pay for a funeral my father couldn’t properly plan for because he wanted to be immortal. I wanted him to be immortal to, but clearly we cannot have what we want.

And I feel guilty about moving away but I also know if I was there every second of every day these last 10 years it would be no different as my father only complained about my mother’s overspending but never ever would look at the bigger picture. I understand that being terminally ill was horrific and he couldn’t admit it to anyone so instead he just bought things as they made him feel like he would live forever, I guess, but those things are just things and I wish there was a way to bring him back and somehow give him happiness without having to just spend all this money on so much stuff that now has to be sold just to sell the house…

Even with the house sold, my mother will still be overspending, but I think she’ll be ok… if she were to sell the house immediately, which she won’t do. She says she needs years to clean it out. The reality is that she needs help to clean it out. A lot of help. Emotional and physical help. It will be very hard and stressful. It will be very hard for me as well. I certainly will struggle to part with my childhood furniture, which I thought one day might be used for my own children (especially if I had a girl), but it probably doesn’t make sense to ship it across the country, esp given right now I live in a one bedroom apartment with no room for it.

I wish I had a zillion dollars and could just throw money at this problem and be done with it. So. I have some liquid assets right now and I’m tempted to do just that. I mean, my parents paid for my college education AND my wedding so it wouldn’t be the strangest thing to pay my mom back now and help her out financially. But I also have a child and need to support my own family as I’m the breadwinner and I have serious mental illnesses and I can’t maintain my jobs for long enough and I still can’t afford a house.

I’m really struggling and I’m not sure what to do. I can just let her run out of money in a few years and go into debt, but then what? Do I just say “I told you so?” A few years ago I set her up with a Mint account and tried to teach her how to budget and it went nowhere. I think she’s starting to get why she needs to budget but she refuses to, so what do I do? She can’t spend $700 a month on food (I get how she can, I’ve done it before, but she can’t) and she especially can’t if she’s keeping the family home with its $700/mo variable home equity payments that will pop up to $1700/mo in 2020 and also whatever this tax payment plan of ~$1000/mo will be for 72 months…

Then these tax lawyers and enrolled agents want $3k-$4k to help her reduce her penalties for taxes and I’m sitting here thinking maybe we should just try to do this ourselves because she doesn’t have $3k-$4k to pay for help (if we can do it ourselves) and I’m just sick of feeling like I have to protect her from vultures who prey on the weak but also don’t want to be stubborn like my father and refuse help when it’s needed.

I could give her $100,000 but it wouldn’t solve anything, it would just delay the inevitable. I’d rather save the $100,000 for when she’s older if she really needs the support, vs now when she’d just spend it on things she doesn’t “need” though she’d say she does.

So that’s the state of that.

Mother’s Day: Being Thankful for an Imperfect Mother

Now that I’m 31 and of age to be a mother, I acknowledge that age doesn’t actually poof make you mature enough to be a good mother. Mother’s are just little girls that grew up and made little creatures that they have to take care of – who then go on to become mothers (or fathers) more often than not before they have their own shit together.

I must be thankful that my mother was not a drug addict or alcoholic. She was not a thief, sex trafficker or Russian spy. For all this, I am grateful.

When I see a bunch of my friends post pictures of their mothers on mom’s day and say “thanks to my best friend” I have to wonder what it’s like to have that kind of figure in your life. Don’t get me wrong – my mom and I talk all the time. But we talk at each other. Not to each other. And, without a nurturing bone in her body, she never once was the type of mother who was “there” for me when I needed it most.

My mother embarrassed me time and again in my life in terms of oversharing my “accomplishments,” trials and tribulations to anyone who might be willing to listen – but the worst of it came from how she, along with my father, completely warped my world view and sense of self. I was trained from a young age that all that matters is being brag-worthy. That I’m inherently special and worthy of praise. Yet any shortcoming, any slight imperfection, was not something that I could work on and fix. It was just ignored. Replaced with some story of grandiosity which fueled my oft confused ego.

I’m grateful that despite my mother’s unyielding self-self-absorbtion, she doesn’t have an evil bone in her body. Her acts are just frustrating, inconvenient at best and nails-on-chalkboard annoying at worst. In the most meaningful moments of life, her only though is if she and the others posing around her look good in a photograph. She is just entirely void of the ability to empathize with others. Her own growth was stunted by her narcissistic mother, who is evil and selfish. My mother is selfish but not in the same way. She’ll put her needs above others but she won’t be angry at said others if their needs end up coming first. Her entire life since age 18 has been in an abusive relationship with my father. She’s never cried. Not even behind closed doors. Her emotions seem to have been stunted as a small child, and were never recovered.

There are worse mothers out there. Ones that go out of their way to use their own children. Ones who push their children to do things that they wouldn’t want to do otherwise. Even when I came out as bisexual she cringed but didn’t kick me out of the house (she hoped it was a phase.) And, in terms of being present versus not in my life, my mother was always there – I’m not sure if she was always there for me, but she was always there. Involved in the school PTA, all of my teachers and administrators knew her well. Everyone in the school knew my mother. Her entire identity, at least once I was born, was created by the accomplishments of her children. Without a sense of self, there became an impossible pressure on her kids to be special enough.

My mother did not teach me about love. My mother stayed when my father screamed and threw ice water in her face or when he grabbed her arm and threw her across the room. For all the effort my mother put into outside appearances in terms of dressing nicely and wearing makeup, she didn’t worry about my father’s repeated humiliation of her in public. After being out of the work force for so many years, she was too afraid to get divorced and have to return to the employed life. She enjoyed her life of shopping and lounging by the pool in the long summers and actively involved in her children’s schooling. She saw her own child getting beaten with a belt and said nothing, even though she knew this wasn’t right. She let her young child start to abuse her, because her child learned this was the only way to stop her chronic nagging. She was a victim, still is a victim, and was incapable of escaping the borderline personality disorder eggshells she walked on throughout her life – first with her own mother, and then her hot-tempered, violent husband.

I feel sorry for my mother. Sorry that she will always be incapable of having her own life. Sorry that she does not have the emotional depth to have a fulfilling adult relationship. Sorry that happiness in her life is defined by buying more and more things, even though she’s never actually happy. The normal state for her is anxious, constantly panicking about what needs to be done, yet never accomplishing much at all.

My great worry is that if I do have kids one day, I won’t be able to be a good mother. I know I will try to be more nurturing and caring, more there for them when they need it and out of the way when they don’t. I’d love to be the type of mother who one day, when my children are all grown up, is referred to as a close friend and confidant. I want to be a strong figure, with a satisfying career and sense of personal accomplishment, to show one example of a successful life and ideal, loving relationship.

And all the while I wonder who I’d be today if I was born to one of those mothers who – maybe is strict – but who knows what it means to love and care for her own children – to, outside of financial means, put her children’s needs ahead of her own, especially when they are young and most vulnerable. All of the crazy in my mind – the constant panicking – the inability to get things done without someone telling me I’m absolutely awful, and having to prove them otherwise – my recurring failure to lead a stable, normal life – or to stand up for myself when I should instead of burst into tears – is something that is so ingrained in me, I can’t shake it off. So much of that is due to my mother. My father had quite the influence as well, but since it’s mom’s day I’m writing about the female component of my parental pair specifically.

So as much as I miss my mother, I’m glad that I moved to the other side of the country. It makes me sad that as the years go by there will less and less time I can spend with her. It’s terribly upsetting that if I do have kids, she will barely ever see them – even though I imagine she’d be a better grandmother than parent, especially if my father isn’t around to scream and make for anxiety-ridden situations. I wish I could flip a switch and suddenly she’d know how to feel – how to care – how to understand that the world doesn’t revolve around her. I know that sounds awfully silly coming from someone such as myself who is also so self absorbed. But at least I have some awareness of the fact that this world isn’t all about me – or my future children – or my life. I’m just a speck in the infinite universe. I’m lucky and unlucky all at the same time, but more lucky than not all things considered. While some of what I have has been earned, most has been obtained through chance.

She would never be able to grasp that. She just doesn’t care about other people – or herself. She is driven by a relentless, all-encompassing need to have stories to tell about others who would want no part in the tale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Passing Down Wealth From Generation to Generation

My father is dying of cancer and has a short time left to live. While his health is ok now, his medicines will stop working at some point over the next few years and from then on the cancer will take over and he will get sicker until he passes.

This post is not about my father’s health, but it’s important to note to put this into context.

Previously, many of my readers have left comments offended by a post I wrote about expecting an inheritance. A conversation I had with my dad this weekend over the phone continues this topic.

He told me how “I” need to get my mother to understand that she needs to live off the interest on the 401k. They get $7000 a month and there is no reason that they can’t live on that. (My mom is a spendaholic.)

My dad went on to tell me how he spent his whole life building wealth for the family so it could be passed down to his kids (me and my sister) and that we could pass it down to our children. Both him and my mother grew up in the lower middle class and did not have wealth. Their parents will not be passing down a great deal to them. So he wanted to build wealth up for our family, for the future. He wasn’t trying to make my sister or I rich, but he did want to make sure we didn’t have to worry about not having enough funds to get us through life. Once you have wealth, living off the interest becomes feasible. It’s not about luxury, but it is about having a lofty security blanket for your family – as in – your children and their children and so on.

But it makes me sick to my stomach to think about how in the future, I will be in such an odd spot — when my father passes, it will be up to me to try to make sure his dream lives on. Yet that dream is for my sister and I to obtain an inheritance. My sister has a learning disability and while she can comprehend some of this she is also younger and I don’t think she will understand a great deal of the financial situation (other than wanting the money.) My mother will want to spend it all. I understand finances, saving, living off interest – I could probably teach my mother to do this, but ultimately it would be so that I could get money after she dies.

My mom didn’t work once I was born, so all of the money in savings is from my dad’s years of working many hours to build this wealth. On one hand I feel the responsibility to make sure that the reason my dad worked so hard his whole life (probably causing unnecessary stress and part of the reason he gained so much weight and got sick) lives on, and part of me feels like this isn’t really my business at all besides making sure my mom doesn’t spend everything too quickly – she does need enough money to survive for many years. She’s in her mid 50s so hopefully she’ll be around for a long time.

I do want to make sure my mom doesn’t go crazy with spending, but she could very easily live a luxurious life and spend every penny if she wanted to in the future. And who am I to stop her?