Toronto's Daycare Subsidy

So, the Dude and I were approved for daycare subsidy. We were fortunate enough to find inexpensive home care at $45 a day, and it's been reduced to a little over $39, and only Tuesday through Friday because I don't work on Monday. But it's still a savings of around $80 a month, which is nothing to sneeze at.

And I intend to move Jack to the actual daycare centre when he's 18 months and there's space in the toddler room. Care then will cost over $70 a day and with the subsidy in place I should still only pay $39. I think. Either way, it'll be cheap enough to be affordable with the subsidy and all the leg work has now been done.

And what leg work there was.

We had to provide our Child Tax Credit statement, where our household income was assessed from our taxes. We had to provide our own tax assessments. I needed to provide a letter of employment, plus pay stubs and the Dude had to fill out forms for being self-employed. Then we needed our lease to prove we lived in Toronto. And we needed Jack's birth registration. And we both needed to go, so the Dude had to get the day off work.

So, we were lucky enough that my in-laws were in town and they took care of Jack. My goodness, he loves his grandpa. They visit on the iPad all the time and looks like it really has been enough to forge a relationship. The little guy was in grandparent heaven.

We got to the subsidy office later than intended because it's located in the worst part of the city: Islington. My god, what a hell hole. No, it's not riddled with crime and gangs. It's just car-centric, boring and horribly laid out, plagued with heavy traffic and nothing interesting to do or see. We missed one turn and it took us 20 minutes to get back to where we needed to be.

Screen shot from Google Street View
because it's too boring to take a real picture of.

In the office we gave our paperwork and at one point we were called over to verify some things. The lady cheerfully informed us we were missing things and was on the verge of telling us sorry, go home, suckers. Luckily it was she who missed something and so that didn't happen, although we saw it happen to someone else, a single mother who was there with a sick child. This place was all-business.

We had our interview with another woman who was even more walled-off than the first. She too said without a hint of concern we were missing things. There was no reassuring conversation that things could still be processed or that everything could move forward, so we were left feeling jittery and agitated. Apparently because I was on maternity leave, I needed a letter stating that and indicating when I'd return. And of course this was never mentioned until that moment.

I had very disturbing stomach rumbles during this time. When you have one crack at gaining a subsidy that will allow your finances to align for the next year and ensure quality care for your baby, you experience quite a bit of stress when it appears like it's not going to work out.

But thankfully, shitting my pants was not in the cards because I was informed that mat leave letter could wait and be sent in later. And just like that, we were approved. It seemed sudden, after all the mulling over our papers and very serious tone in the room. Immediately the mood lightened and the woman started conversing more naturally, answering questions and even nearly smiling.

It's definitely a weight off my shoulders. It's good to know what to budget for. All this time it's been an X factor. That's one of the crazy things about having a baby in this city. Finding a daycare is crazy, finding one you can afford is crazier still, and securing the subsidy can be tricky (And that's if you find care that'll accept it). So you can't make a sensible financial plan. I was quoted $1,400 a month from one place, which I could not afford. I'll pay about $820, which is a steal.

I'm so grateful I don't want more children. What you have to go through to get through life with one is more than enough. He's worth it, but cripes.

35

My friends threw me a super adorable shower this past Sunday at the McPal house. It was cutely decorated and there were yummy sammiches and cake and cheese and such. My Toronto friends were all there and they gave me some really nice things for the baby, like a charming mobile and books and blankets and sleeping gear. It was a really nice day. I love my friends.

We also got a used rug from McPal, and it's in the nursery now. It really fits in and makes it more of a bedroom space. Touches like that really make it complete and, because I can't help but say so, really ties the room together.

The McPals are the one household I know that have their own helium tank and actually get a lot of great use out of it. We took home many balloons in our Zipcar. The Dude considered leaving them in the trunk for the next person to open it and be assaulted with a ton of helium balloons. But no, they're in the living room. The big one is still holding on. The cats approached them cautiously at first and then nothing exciting happened, which was too bad. I'd hoped maybe Sprinkles would pounce them like the clown she is. Smokey was scared of balloons in his day. Poor old guy probably would have had a heart attack.

And wildly, with the showers over and me being about 35 weeks, that means I have a little over a month until I'm due to give birth. The crunch time to acquire the remaining items has begun, and I have three weeks of work left until I can stop and relax and focus on the baby. It's all happening stupidly fast now.

But the list of things to get has shrunk a ton:
Play yard/bassinet
Bedside table
Gliding rocking chair
Cloth wipe solution
Wrapping baby carrier
Breast pump
Bibs

But in all honesty, the pump and bibs can wait. Well, hopefully the pump can wait, otherwise the Dude will be running an errand shortly after the birth. I don't want to think I'll have issues breastfeeding, but it happens.

I also investigated a daycare in the area. $1450 per month for an infant. $1450. Even if it drops a couple hundred for a toddler, it's still so much money. So, we won't be going there. There's one even closer to our house that I'm going to check out, which my in-laws use. Hopefully it's not also $1450. Jesus, this city is expensive. I mean, I knew that, but hell.

I've already been asked a lot by some family when I'm going to have more and now I think my answer is I'll consider it if someone wants to pay me $1450 a month for three years. Crazy, but having two kids would literally make the difference between ever being able to buy a house, or not.

Just think, a working class man's income alone used to be able to buy a house and provide for a family of six. Now? Pfft. Not bloody likely!

Sale

Six days?! I sometimes just don't blog. But more importantly, it's two days till Christmas. Well, sort of. It's technically the 23rd, but I haven't gone to sleep yet, making it still the 22nd mentally.

And it's 3:30 a.m. and I'm up, battling sour heartburn as usual. Also, I took a long, long nap today accidentally (The nap was intentional, the fact it went three hours was not).

I had to get up at the ungodly (not really) hour of 8:30 this morning to go to the hospital to get a blood product to prevent my body from potentially attacking future fetuses. I'm O- and the Dude is B+, hence if blood mixes, I create antibodies, and so on. Bad news. Except I ain't doing this more than once, dagnabbit. But the medical community don't see the sense in closing doors on yourself. So very well.

Yesterday we got our first baby gifts from Matt's dad and stepmom, plus a couple others from our hometown who wish us well. It made it so real. Painting the nursery? Having a crib delivered? Seeing the ultrasound? Feeling actual kicks inside of me? Somehow I've managed to experience them in the abstract. Tangibly holding things my baby would wear really hit me. How's that for weird?

Holding a little toy lamb and soft blankets and infant pyjamas really hit me. I mean, right now my baby is kicking me so hard it's moving my abdomen up and down. But holding the things I'll use to care for and nurture him or her really moved me. And there was the horse. Matt's stepmom painted this gorgeous carousel horse for the nursery and I love it. Handmade and sentimental, the sort of thing my own mom would have given me. I'll take a picture of it soon, when it's not almost 4:00 a.m.

Our stroller was delivered yesterday too. The aforementioned generous dad and stepmom gave us $500 to buy a stroller a couple months ago. We had budgeted around $200, but SM insisted we needed something of quality and wanted to gift us a stroller. So I looked around online, reading reviews and we tested this bad boy out:

Urbo stroller from Mamas & Papas

It retails for about $579 in Canada, which after tax is an exorbitant amount of money, about $654. When one receives $500 for a stroller, paying anything further out of pocket just feels like frivolous bad planning and parenting over-excess. So I waited. And waited. And hoped the dang thing would go on sale, though I sincerely doubted it would.

And then it totally did, a whopping 25% off, and after tax I got the thing for $502. Boom. Sales fill me with joy. Good deals sing in my ear. This elegant contraption, which is now the closest thing we own to a vehicle, turns on a dime and is the lightest full-size stroller we could find/afford. It's narrow and more compact, making it a less intrusive option for taking it on the TTC. It's got thick single wheels that are good for snow, and is welded and sturdy. The seat comes off and can hold a car seat, and the actual seat can face either direction and it reclines.

How it performs for us over the next few years will obviously colour my feelings significantly. But it's designed for urban life, which I live, so I have reasonably high hopes.

My next big purchase will be cloth diapers. For the brand I want in the amount I'll likely need, the cloth wipes, the washable diaper pail bags, and wet sacks for a diaper bag, it'll probably run me about $850. That's less than what it costs per year in this country to diaper a baby in disposables, and it'll be all I need for the whole duration of pre-potty training life.

Actually sitting down and committing to spending that amount upfront? It'll take awhile. And anyway, sales. There could always be a sale.

Gen Y - No Future

I think about the future a lot, especially lately. Article after article is out about my generation, Gen Y. And although 1980 - 1982 is a hazy grey area, which is where the Dude and I fall under, I identify with Y. My teen years had the internet, which frankly I think set the tone for Gen Y's understanding of the world. Gen X grew up without it, for the most part, and didn't get cell phones till well after college. I think in many ways the technology we have as kids and teens is what really changes our cultural experiences.

But being at the very front of this generation has meant not having been inundated from a young age with everything we've come to take for granted. It's also meant getting into the job market before the larger wave of us hit the scene right in time for the Great Recession. And in my case, not getting the university degree, opting for three years college, I really got in the door at the right time. My job would be impossible to get at my pay grade now, and it's union protected.

So I'm lucky. I'm not in my dream job and there's no room for advancement, but I make okay money, I have benefits and a defined benefit pension plan and therefore I'm better off than a lot of graduates with masters degrees looking for work right now. By virtue of being older, basically, because I was at the front of the new cohort of young adults and didn't take much time in post-secondary. That's it. That wound up being the magic key.

Something I didn't get in the door for: a house. A house! That just plain ain't happening. We can't afford it in this city. Toronto is insane. Something drastic would have to happen to the housing market, decimating prices, which would of course rock the economy and ruin us all, so nothing really can be done and there's nothing to hope for except stagnated prices, perhaps a small drop that won't ruin anyone's lives, and then give frugal living a chance to build some savings. Sigh.

And yet I still worry. With all the stability I've just mentioned, I still have concerns about my future, I guess because it's not as bright as I'd hoped it would be. Letting go of the dream of home ownership has been a small blow. I mean, I love renting because I don't have to pay for any repairs and my water bill is included. I don't get hit with property taxes. I like that. But psychologically, it's hard to feel like a proper middle class adult when you can't buy your own house at nearly 30 years of age.

I wonder what the next 10 years will be like. For the first time in this country's history, the parents have not left the country in better shape for their kids. Honestly, I think Gen Y is lost, with the youngest of us in the worst shape of all. Over educated, under-employed and without opportunity. Crappy interest rates making saving a nightmare, housing prices through the roof (which only benefits the boomers who are downsizing and getting a massive return on investment), and food and transportation is more expensive than ever. Throw in the income gap between rich and poor, which hasn't been this pronounced since what? The Great Depression? To put it plainly, I'm not terribly optimistic.

The Merge

The Dude and I have merged our finances. It just got to a point where it was simply easier.

He's the sort of guy who's more impulsive, likes to spend his money on what I like to call "bubblegum and baseball cards". You know, juvenile foolishness like snacks and figurines and stuff like that. Not that I don't like to spend money on frivolous things, myself, I just happen to be able to say no to things easier and keep in mind my monthly bills, obligations and such. He'll see a few hundred dollars in his account and not think about his future needs.

So now our rent, utilities, cell phones, the Dude's student loan, kitten expenses, food and entertainment all get handled by me with money that we're both putting into one pot. I'll also be able to delegate wedding expenses, savings and the Dude's tax savings (Being freelance, he's got to pay his income taxes all in one go come tax time).

It's a lot of extra work, but I don't care. We'll save more money, I'll be able to manage our long-term plans and we're no longer keeping tabs on who owes the other how much. It's more loving and romantic. And since the Dude needs to be able to blow some cash on his nonsense but doesn't trust himself with large sums, he requested an allowance of sorts. So that's what we're doing.

I personally couldn't handle being on his end, having him manage the money (Probably because it's not his forte), but he's a happy camper, being able to finally not worry about money at all. All he has to do is deposit his cheque and then the rent gets paid, the internet and TV stay on, his cell and student loan get paid, there's always enough for groceries and TTC tokens, we go out to dinners and movies, and he can still spend his own cash without any issues.

I'm not really on a budgeted allowance, myself. In the past, because I was making more reliable money, I'd handle dinners out, movies and little extras. I'd also then get myself things for my own happiness. In the end, the Dude was blowing more of his money on the nonsense, I was taking us out and I was feeling free to buy myself all sorts of loveliness.

Now I'm going to be more restrained because I'm managing our money, not just mine, and from our money I need to also bump up our savings and pay for a wedding.

I never thought I'd feel this way, but honestly, if we want to meet our goals for the future, I don't see a better alternative. Not having the full weight of my personal income to use at my leisure is a loss, yes. But it's a minor loss. I'm not troubled by it and I don't feel the lack of independence I thought I'd feel. I actually feel closer to the Dude. I feel like instead of trying to balance and juggle two separate budgets, I'm now bringing us together. It's not been long at all, but the change in attitude between us has shifted in a positive way.

Money Can't Buy Me Love

Yesterday the Dude and I attended a potluck with friends. Only instead of potluck, we all brought $10 and the hosts used their connections to buy steak, lobster and rum.

It's hard not to enjoy your life when your weekend is spent doing things like eating lobster, seeing friends, sleeping in and being incredibly lazy. Even if you are broke at the moment. The $20 we put in was so worth it, but waiting on some cheques to be paid out, it was a stretch. I sometimes ask the Dude how we'll look back on these early years. He says we'll feel like we paid our dues.

Not like we're po', exactly, but things are a little tight. Such is life when one party is a burgeoning freelancer. There's something romantic about it in its own way. It's sort of a struggle we're sharing together. I always liked listening to settled married couples talk about their first few years of living together. It always involves a story of tight budgets, less than ideal living conditions, some sort of hardship that they had to work on dealing with as a team.

Not that I wouldn't love me some sweet, sweet spacious home ownership or exciting vacations or lots of dinners out. But I've long since developed an appreciation for the things that build character. Knowing how to do without makes the doing with into something fulfilling. It's like a reward instead of a frivolous distraction.

It also makes you love the smaller things. The Dude and I have never travelled together. We've been overnight at his dad's on the lake. That's about it. Take something like going on the rollercoasters together at Canada's Wonderland last Sunday and there's been a happy glow in this apartment all week. When you can only do so much, what you can do feels amazing. And here we are saving and putting away money for a trip to Mexico in November. It's a bit of a burden, but we're making it happen together.

Today we slept in. The Dude made us coffee and we drank it in bed. Then we stayed in bed, ate scones and watched Mad Men all day. And it's the things like that which remind me not having money isn't so bad.

Day 1

I'm young, I'm childfree and I'm on vacation. So naturally, I slept in and have spent the morning on my laptop in bed. I have no real plans today. On one hand that's pretty awesome, as not working is delightful, but somehow I'm experiencing holiday guilt. You know, the kind where you have a stint of time off and you feel kind of bad about not being out there in the world doing something worthwhile with your time?

And I don't even mean charitable or anything. I mean like being out having fun outside or with friends or in a park or shopping or getting a manicure or at the beach or on a road trip-- you get the idea. Basically using my time off to enjoy myself doing things I would not normally do is what I feel like I ought to be doing, mostly because I'm already not terribly busy so doing nothing at all should not feel so damn good.

Only it does. I'm not very Type A, I never have been. I guess I'm not even Type A about fun. In any case, I have to conserve my monies a bit. I'm still paying off Smokey's vet bill, $1,100 more to go, and Mexico, about $550 more to go. Funny thing about Mexico is I'll probably experience the same do-nothing guilt, as I do enjoy just sitting by a pool with a book and a drink, and not necessarily playing games, surfing, or touring local towns.

What I may do is buy some new slippers. Smokey, in his infinite love for me, took a dump inside my last pair. Yes, inside. I found out when I put my foot inside the slipper. I only have two questions: How did he manage that? And what did I do to him? Anyway, the slippers were so old and tattered that they didn't survive the washing machine.

Regardless of my lacklustre approach to time off, day 1 of booked vacation is under way. The only thing I can say for sure about today is that I may get dressed. Maybe.

Tax season

The Dude is in our hometown, living it up with his mom and his best friend. And I'm home alone, hanging out with Smokey, doing some of my laundry, watching TV shows he hates and eating ice cream for dinner.

One of my many wonderful aunts (I'm a lucky woman in the aunt department) called me today to do my taxes. Incidentally, this is the aunt in particular who, shall we say, facilitated my relationship with the Dude in its earliest more sordid stages. And God love her for that.

Anyhoo, we went through my life, such as it is, and looks like I'm getting a refund between $600 and $700. Yay! In one pessimistic respect, it's a bit of a bummer I'm still in a stage of life and wage bracket that I'm getting refunds, but in another much more happy respect, I'm getting free monies from the government.

It's going to take will power not to blow it, though. I'm good with my income. I'm not so responsible with windfalls.

Nosy bout the monies

I hate money.

Actually, no, I do enjoy having monies. Having the monies means being able to pay rent and buy new dresses and feed my cat. But I hate it. I hate the concept of it, saving it, budgeting it, managing it, thinking about it and paying things off.

Oh, it's satisfying to pay shit off. And it's a comfort to be able to do so. And I'm too meticulous and paranoid a person to ever not closely manage my finances. And the Dude's finances (this is his wish, so no I'm not diving through his personal accounts and taking over).

It just effing sucks. When I was 22 I was making much less. I also barely saved my money. I just spent what I earned, no more, no less. Now I'm thinking about retirement savings. R-fucking-SPs. I'm also thinking about future home ownership. I have a downpayment, but blargh if prices on homes in the city don't seem to go up, up, up.

I'm not drowning in debt. I don't actually have any debt. Again, I'm too anxious to incur any. I find myself increasingly curious about other people's finances. I don't ask, but I burn to know. Are they house poor? Are they putting away 10% of their income? What are their mortgage payments and property taxes? How much was that wedding or vacation?

It's sometimes a shock to learn the answers. Actually, it's always a shock. Every now and then I'll be revealed a tidbit of info about someone's finances and I'll wonder either how they can live with themselves or how they managed such awesomeness. I wanna be awesome too.

Being awesome used to require cute shoes and a cool haircut. Adulthood has totally upped the ante. Fucking retirement, house downpayment, emergency fund savings. Le sigh.