There was something about knowing you might be hung out there in front of everyone that changed how you wrote that report and certainly made darned sure you read the book no matter how hard it was to get through. Years later when writing a report for a different teacher altogether I still felt that sense of potential public critique that ensured I followed through on assignments.

This week we finish a thirteen-week class from Dave Ramsey called Financial Peace University. It is the classroom, group version of his book, The Total Money Makeover, coupled with a sixty to ninety minute video from Ramsey about a different financial topic each week.

We were already sold on Ramsey’s ideas when we decided to take the class and were two months into our written budget, but there was something excellent about knowing you were going to sit down with twenty or thirty people each week to talk about it.

Accountability.

Some folks were in worse shape than us, some were better, but we all seemed to enjoy the chance to speak openly about where we had been and where we were going once the initial ice was broken.

Two months ago one lady tearfully told the story of her failing business and the abuse she faced daily from creditors. At our last class we applauded her success in getting a great settlement out of them. She had a completely different demeanor and sat with her back straight and a smile on her face. It was wonderful.

Then there was the nutty guy who would “hallelujah!” and “amen!” and “that’s right, brother!” during Ramsey’s video. The class coordinator gently chastised him one night when he offered to share his story of success at getting his kids a car loan. > groan < Still, like the crazy uncle who pours gravy on his cranberries at Thanksgiving, I even came to like him after three months.

I don’t know if we will keep in touch with the people we spent thirteen Sunday evenings with, but I hope we do run into each other once-in-a-while. One of the perks of purchasing the class ($190 list, $95 street price) is a lifetime membership; you can retake the course whenever you want for free.

Actually, I think I’d make a good coordinator of the class some day, but that’s for another time.

For now I will enjoy the last of the accountability of our class as we meet for a final potluck and encouragement to keep our debt snowballs rolling and our budgets on-paper, on-purpose.

Secretly, though, I will enjoy knowing I won’t have to stand up in front of the class to read them.

the Dad

© the Dad, Climbing Out, 2009. | 2 comments

Husband (the Dad) and I have monthly budget meetings every week. Sometimes twice a week! It sounds like a lot, but it has been great! We talk more now than ever. Yes, it is about money, but sometimes, most times, it leads to other things. For months (maybe years) husband has been saying that we should talk more. Turn off the tv and go outside and talk more. Who knew it would take a budget to get us talking?! There is more love, security, and understanding than ever before.

My sponser is Dave Ramsey. Granted, I don’t meet with him in person, but I listen to his podcasts as often as possible. I realized that it was only a couple times a week and that was not enough. So I plugged my ear pods directly into my computer this morning and am listening as I write this. A little tricky, but it’s getting in. Husband listens every day to and from work. He gets the good message reinforced daily and it keeps him on track and motivated. I tend to get soft. I know it. So, I need more from my sponser. I need to find more times to listen to the right message so the wrong messages won’t sneak in.

My sponsees are dear friends. We have always looked up to them. They were married first. Had children first. Travel well. Boldly move for better opportunities. Husband would consider what said friend would do when trying to figure out how to handle kids or me. Now, it’s our turn to return the favor. We discovered Dave Ramsey and the Total Money Makeover first. We got on the plan first. We are taking FPU. We sent them the book and it was read in a day! Now we talk all the time and money is not taboo. It is so great to be able to share with them what we are learning in FPU. It helps me to reinforce what I need to do when I talk it out with my friend. They, too, are having better communication about money than ever. We have grand plans for being debt-free and it is exciting and encouraging.

Hi, I’m The Wife and I have debt.

© The Wife, Climbing Out, 2009. | 3 comments

There is a moment in the Polar Express, after a movieful of skepticism, when The Boy holds a bell from Santa’s sleigh in his hand, gives it a shake and finally hears its jingle. It is the wonder immediately following the birth of belief. Whether it’s the spirit of Santa Claus, true love, or a working written budget, there is magic in the moment where one believes.

This week marks the end of our second month on a written budget. Budget committee meetings are getting easier. Communication between The Wife and me is better than ever. I am starting to look back on how we lived the first ten years of our married financial life with regret and awe.

Even the day The Wife came home from the grocery store with a receipt that read $120 when we had budgeted $60 for groceries can’t compare to life without a plan (I’ll let her write about that one if she wants to).

My moment of belief came last Sunday night at FPU class when the coordinater asked if anyone had a milestone to share with the rest of class. The Wife’s hand went up and I looked at her with raised eyebrows. I had no idea what she was about to say. We hadn’t paid off anything new, gotten any new income, or had anything financial happen that I could think of.

“We are sending $1,000 to our smallest debt this month!”, she said. What? We are?

I pulled out the budget, which I originally wrote, mind you, and she was right. I hadn’t even registered it. Earn as much as possible, allocate everything one must, squeeze out the fat, then put the rest on the smallest debt, right? That’s what we did, however emotionally I hadn’t connected with the numbers that were on that paper.

Everything is current. Everything. The mortage for April was paid on time (haven’t done that in months), minimums are paid on all debts, and we are sending $1,000 extra to the smallest one.

Holy crap.

This stuff isn’t a joke. It’s not a myth. It’s not even really magical, although today I feel like it is. Living financially on-paper, on-purpose in lock-step with one’s spouse can be done, and the peace when I go to bed at night is tangible.

I think I can hear that bell jingle, my friends. I really do.

the Dad

© the Dad, Climbing Out, 2009. | 6 comments

Best friend, Jon, once asked me if the detention I got was worth it after a particularly good quip that exploded laughter from my seventh grade English class. I wasn’t always that successful. Like the time I pulled the chair out from under Christy T. in the sixth grade and she fell on her bottom. Off to the Principal’s office for that one.

Nonetheless, whether appropriate or not, I’ve always been comfortable speaking up in a classroom setting.

This past Sunday The Wife and I started Dave Ramsey’s thirteen-week Financial Peace University class at a local church. We debated about attending, feeling as though we were motivated and making progress on our own without spending another $100 on a class plus the commitment every Sunday night and potential babysitting charges.

A week before the class’ first night The Wife went to an orientation and decided this was definitely for us. In addition to the philosophies on finances, debt and savings that we were already coming to believe in so fervently, the class offered additional materials (a new book, envelope system, 13 audio cds) and, more importantly, weekly accountability to a roomful of people.

A roomful of strangers, yes, but if we commit to honesty with each other, I think the next thirteen weeks will ingrain a totally new pattern of behavior in both of us.

Halfway through Sunday’s class we were asked to stand in turn and introduce ourselves, say why we were there and what we hoped to learn. The dozen people before us gave very polite and text-book answers to much somber head-nodding.

This would never do, I thought.

Old habits kicked in as our turn came and I stood, stated our names and announced “We are in a Metric Butt-load of debt and live in a house we can barely afford!”

Once the laughter died down the room felt very different. The Wife chimed in saying her parents never spoke of money or taught its use. The rest of the introductions were less formal and more personal with several people referring back to what The Wife or I said with a smile in our direction.

Maybe they were just laughing at my public pot-stirring, but I’d like to think they were glad someone opened up the honesty bag and dumped a steaming pile of it out for everyone to see.

Either way, I’m not sorry to have spoken up.

To this day, however, I am sincerely sorry about Christy’s bum and sincerely hope she has totally forgotten me.

the Dad

© the Dad, Climbing Out, 2009. | 3 comments