I remember when Brad used to come home from work and say, "Let's go out to eat."
I would respond, "We don't have the money."
And he would contest, "Are we ever going to have the money? Are we ever going to go out?"
I didn't get it.
I do now.
I'm working at a job, which is fine; it's a job. I like my coworkers, I like the company, it pays the bills, it grants us benefits. But I come home, spend--at most--three precious hours with my children, maybe one more with Brad, and fall asleep. Anywhere.
Weekends are blurs of cleaning and errand running and scheduling.
Um, I'm sort of new to this lifestyle, so please excuse my naivite, but...
...when does the living happen?
When does life beyond just catching up and getting bills paid and completing all the tasks necessary for basic survival happen?
When do we stop planning and start enjoying?
Are we meant to save our living time for two one-week vacations per year?
I can't deal with that. I am going insane.
So we're trying some new rules. Call me crazy, but we're desperate: no TV during together time. Outdoor family time at least once a week. And dates every weekend. No matter what.
Do you have any strategies for living beyond just trying to make if from day to day?