Preparing for a baby doesn’t have to cost a lot of money. Magazines and TV ads will tell you that you need to spend a fortune in preparation for your little darling’s arrival, but it’s simply not true. When my husband and I were expecting our first child, my husband was working at a small radio station and had a pretty small salary. I was a teaching assistant at our local special education preschool, and my paycheck was also pretty small. Here are some of the things I’ve learned about preparing for a baby when you don’t have a lot of money.
Borrow things. Women love to share maternity and baby items. Don’t buy a lot of things before you publicly announce that you’re expecting, because once you make the big announcement, you’re sure to get offers of gently used maternity clothes, baby clothes, and baby equipment….as well as lots of baby advice. I think it’s a rite of passage for women to pass down their maternity clothes to other pregnant women. Take advantage of it.
Buy used. There are many stores that consign strictly baby and children’s items. Consignment stores are great for stocking up on baby clothes and baby equipment. Since the owners are usually very strict about what they will accept for sale, the items you’ll find in a consignment store are generally in excellent condition.
Garage sales are another great place to pick up baby clothes. You can often find infant clothes in great condition for as little as $1 a piece.
Wait for the gifts. Don’t go out and spend a lot of money on the baby as soon as you find out you’re pregnant. More than likely, you’ll have at least one baby shower, where you’ll receive tons of baby clothes and all the little items you’ll need, like baby nail clippers, towels, a baby bathtub, and much, much more.
It’s also a well known fact that women love shopping for babies. So after your baby is born, you will probably receive even more gifts of baby clothes. So don’t feel like you need to buy a whole wardrobe for baby right away. I recommend stocking up on some comfortable baby pajamas for the weeks following your baby’s birth. When your baby is a month or so old, take stock of what you still need and shop from there.
You don’t need everything. When you visit the baby section in a department store, you might think you need to spend thousands of dollars to buy your baby every last bit of equipment. You don’t. You will need a place for the baby to sleep, a car-seat, some clothes, blankets for swaddling, diapers, and alcohol swabs to care for your baby’s belly button.
Nice additions are a bouncy seat or swing, a sling, a stroller, a diaper bag, some soft baby towels and washcloths, some bibs for dealing with drooling, and burp cloths for dealing with spitting up. A changing table, bottle warmer, wipe warmer, and lots of toys really aren’t necessary at all. Neither is an impeccably decorated nursery. Your baby will quickly outgrow typical nursery decor.
Consider Breastfeeding. This is definitely the least expensive and most convenient way to feed a baby. I was bottle fed as a baby, and my mom bottle fed all of my younger brothers, so I always figured that’s what I’d do too…until I saw the price of formula. After nursing my babies, there’s no way I’d bottle feed a baby. I’m not morally against it or anything, but breastfeeding is terribly convenient. And again…it’s free.
Think about cloth diapering. Cloth diapering is coming back en vogue, and it isn’t what it used to be. Now you can buy all-in-one diapers that are a diaper and cover in one easy-to-change package. Today’s cloth diapers use snaps or velcro in place of pins, so there’s no need to worry about poking baby with a pin. The prints are really cute, too. I used cloth diapers on my second child for a while, and it really wasn’t much extra work. It’s better for the environment, too. Though the initial expense of cloth diapers is greater than disposables, you’ll recoup the cost over time.
If you’re considering cloth diapering, The Diaper Pin is a great place to read diaper reviews and find places to buy cloth diapers. As with anything, don’t go overboard buying diapers at first. Different diapers work well for different babies, and you don’t want to be stuck with a huge stash of diapers that don’t work.
Use a midwife. These days you aren’t limited to having an obstetrician deliver your baby. Seeing a midwife often means a lower bill for your pregnancy and delivery. Most midwives are very sensitive to helping parents achieve the kind of birth experience that they want to have, rather than having a delivery full of medical interventions. If this appeals to you, a midwife might be a good option. Just make sure that your midwife is affiliated with an obstetrician for backup, in case something comes up that needs a physician’s attention.
Skip the circumcision. If you aren’t going to circumcise for religious reasons, consider skipping it all together. The AAP now considers circumcision an elective procedure, so many insurance companies aren’t covering it anymore.
Prepare in advance for maternity leave. As soon as you find out you’re expecting a baby, start saving money for maternity leave. Practice living on one income well in advance of the time your baby is born. This is also good advice if you’re not going to be returning to work at all. You’re more likely to succeed as a one income family if you have practice living on one income before you actually lose your income. It’s hard to learn how to live frugally when you’re not getting enough sleep.
Though it’s hard to be completely prepared when you’re expecting a baby, these are some good ways to minimize the financial impact of your baby’s birth. Do you have other suggestions? I’d love to hear your comments!
In the Get Rich Slowly forums, DannyBoy has a question that I think many people face: “What can I do if my girlfriend isn’t serious about money?” He writes:
I’m the sort of person who essentially looks into every area of his life to save, start investing, and be smart about money as much as possible. Do you think that somebody like myself, who cares so much about where his money goes, can be happy with a girlfriend who doesn’t? Everything else between us is cool, fun, etc, But I don’t want the money issue to turn me off her.
We’re both young: I’m 19 and she’s 23. She says she doesn’t want to save for retirement because we could all die in a second, therefore it’s a waste of time and money to save if the worst should come around. I don’t really agree with this. I mean, chances are most of us will make it to retirement. (Unfortunately, some won’t.) How do you think I should handle the situation?
Should I talk to her again about how I feel towards this? Should I let it bother me? I’m into her, and I want to remain to be into her, but I don’t want something so simple as saving to get in the way of what could be. Should I grow out of it, get out of it, or just accept it?
It’s relationship questions like this that make money so complicated. What do you do when you’re in love with somebody, but you don’t see eye-to-eye on money? (Or any other issue, for that matter.)
The standard reply to a situation like DannyBoy’s is that this relationship probably won’t work in the long-term. If both partners are not on the same page financially, there’s trouble in the future.
On the other hand, Kris and I are proof that it’s possible to have a fantastic relationship despite initial differences. When we were married, Kris did all the right things with money. I did all the wrong things. (This is one of the reasons we maintained separate finances.) Eventually, I came around. Not everybody does.
Obviously, DannyBoy and his girlfriend are young yet. Is it too early for him to worry about money differences? Should he worry about them at all? Is there anything he can (or should) do to open his girlfriend’s eyes?
The practical side of me loves wedding registries, and the values-driven side of me has grown to loathe them as brides and grooms seem ever bossier. Registries are nothing new, of course. We registered for gifts in 1973, and as a result received two lovely sets of china and ten place-settings of silver. Beyond that, it was open season: we received all sorts of gifts we had not designated. Most we used, a few we actively hated, and many we came to appreciate and even love over time. (Regifting hadn’t been “invented” back then.). From the point of view of the brides and grooms, wedding registries have many upsides. But let’s look at it from the perspective of the gift-giver.
Pros and Cons
The pros of a gift registry are:
Efficiency. You can order the gift and you’re done. The store ships it and you don’t have to wrap it, schlep it, or even buy a card.
The couple picks what they want, and you know your gift is to their taste, which is especially helpful if you hate shopping or don’t know the couple well enough to key in to their life style. Easy. Done.
From my point of view, the negative list is more extensive:
It’s impersonal. No way to write a note to go with your gift, except electronically.
The choices are not prioritized. Recently, after scrolling through scores of chosen items, I finally decided to just purchase a gift certificate from the registry and let the couple decide. Wrapping and shipping would have been an extra $20, which seems mostly wasted.
The options are overly directed. The attitude expressed, even if it’s not intentional, is DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT GIVING US SOMETHING NOT ON OUR LIST! I find it arrogant that young couples think they know more about what they will need over a lifetime than people who have actually lived a generation or two longer. This is often the case because the couple is using a store registry, which is a fixed template without options to comment or personalize any aspect of the choices. They come off sounding very dictatorial.
I don’t like being limited to chain stores and/or mass produced items. Some of my favorite wedding gifts are pottery and other handmade crafts, which cannot be purchased from a registry. It’s also nice to give a family heirloom or something more personal.
I still might very well decide to give them a place setting of something they’ve chosen, or whatever, but as a sport PSAWSWLD [J.D.’s note: Yeah, I had to click that link, too.], I could probably find it cheaper elsewhere online, and/or perhaps using Amazon Prime’s free shipping, thereby giving them a more valuable gift.
I am often turned off by the actual items chosen since they are way pricier and extravagant than anything I have ever owned. (And I’ve lived a perfectly abundant life!) I like to feel simpatico with the gift I’m giving, since it’s an expression of my values.
I dislike not knowing whether our gift arrived, since brides and grooms (or bride + bride and groom + groom) are often really terrible about writing thank-yous. My preference is to bring the gift with me to the wedding, if I am attending. Not an option with a registry — the whole point is to ship the gift directly to the couple. They haven’t added return receipts for the giver, so far as I know, so if you never receive an acknowledgment, you don’t know if it’s just another inconsiderate bride and groom screwing up, or if your gift didn’t arrive, and they think you are a creep.
The old-fashioned side of me feels uncomfortable with the couple knowing precisely, down to the dime, what I spent on their gift. It feels so calculated. I mean, why don’t they just send a bill?!
Other Options
A few brides and grooms I know have worked to transcend the tax-assessment feel of store registries. While they feel obliged to include conventional stores on their wedding sites (because that’s what lots of their guests do prefer), they expand their suggestions, including favorite charities and causes. One couple said they would love gift certificates to local bookstores and garden shops and described their garden, giving their guests a sense of their values and passions. A few years ago we gave a giant composter to this couple, since they had included it on a wishlist, and it really spoke to me; I totally enjoyed sending it to them. The fancy china comes out maybe once a year, but that composter is used every day!
Another way some couples counteract the gimmes is to ask for non-material gifts. Recently all the invitees to a wedding we attended were asked by the bride’s friend to submit a favorite recipe, which they made into a cookbook for the bride and groom. Another woman I know did something similar for her future daughter-in-law, collecting recipes from all the immediate family, including copies of recipes written by grandmothers no longer alive. (She made copies for all the contributors, and I’m sure they are treasured!)
A nice custom in the Jewish community is to send close friends and family fabric squares to decorate, which are then sent back and stitched together to create the wedding canopy. None of these touches are instead of a material gift, but they serve to make guests feel like they are more than ATMs.
Some couples create an online donation registry in lieu of gifts, but the site notifies the couple of the amount of each contribution, something which makes some people (like me, for example!) uncomfortable. I recently received a link to New American Dream’s registry where the celebrants (brides and grooms, new parents, etc) can set up a registry asking for whatever they like, mixing purchased and guest-created items. Their sample asks for recipes, food for potluck weddings, advice, and fair-traded household things. Very nice idea for a small, simple event, but for a conventional, fancy wedding, I think it would freak people out. (It would be a nice additional alternative to a conventional registry, though; a couple could do both, and explain their thinking on their wedding website, the new de rigeur system for communicating wedding plans.)
And what about the most obvious wedding gift? Cold cash, of course. It’s nice to receive, but I can tell you, 33 years later, it’s the beautiful, thoughtful items which I enjoy, the cash long ago having been plowed into aggregate savings. Many of the brides and grooms I know are mature and earn more than I do, so in those cases money feels like a weird gift. (If the couple is a pair of starving students, money is still a great idea, perhaps along with a smaller material item.)
Let’s hear what you all think about wedding registries, pro or con, and from both givers and receivers’ points of view. Are they a necessary evil, a godsend, or something in between?
Teutsch previously told GRS readers about the pros and cons of working at home and discussed how to get a grip on consumerism.
As with many things in life these days, it all started with an episode of the Peter Attia podcast.
In this edition, our nation’s most Badass Doctor was interviewing a guest I initially dismissed as not overly applicable to my own lifestyle. A young,excessively handsome dude who happened to be a writer with a new book out. But the headline of the episode was just intriguing enough to get me to click.
“The Comfort Crisis”
Wow, what an amazing turn of phrase, and what a concise summary of the core of this whole Mustachianism thing I’ve been trying to express for the past dozen years.
While the news headlines cry constantly about our nationwide personal debt crisis or health crisis or any other number of things that suggest that life is so hard these days, I have always seen the opposite: on average, we Americans seem to have a problem of ridiculous overindulgence and easiness in our lives, and our main problem is not recognizing it, and the damage it does to us.
So of course I had to click, and then listen to the whole two hour episode, and then buy the book, and then spend the past month reading and digesting it in small, meaningful chunks like the modern-day chunk of scripture-like wisdom that it is. And wow, am I glad I did so.
The author is Michael Easter, a former writer for Men’s Health magazine was also once catastrophically addicted to alcohol – and descended from a long family line of ancestors with the same affliction.
He was lucky to catch himself from that fall in time to save his own life, and that story alone makes the book worth reading as someone who has stood by helplessly as loved ones battled with addiction. But I think his history with overindulgence in the hollow comforts of alcohol also gives him an edge on writing about the battle between comfort and hardship on the bigger stage of life in general.
So what is The Comfort Crisis about, and how can it make all of our lives better?
The best part about this book is just what a damned good writer this Easter guy is. Like many of the most fun popular science books*, it follows a split narrative which jumps back and forth to interweave the story of an insanely difficult caribou hunting trip he joined in a remote pocket of Alaska, with the appropriate bits of science, psychology and cultural commentary that help us explain and learn from each chapter of the epic shit he had just endured. This allows us to process and apply the lessons in our own lives.
For example, have you ever wondered why the type of bored, rich suburbanites who populate the board of your local Homeowner Association and whine about unacceptably tall weeds or unauthorized skateboarding on Nextdoor are so insufferable?
Why can’t they do something better with their time?
It turns out that there’s a scientific explanation for these unfortunate people, along with most of our other problems:
The tendency of humans to always scan our environment for problems, regardless of how safe and perfect that environment is.
The book cited a study in which researchers told people to look for danger, in an environment which gradually became safer and safer:
“When they ran out of stuff to find they would start looking for a wider range of stuff, even if this was not conscious or intentional, because their job was to look for threats.”
“With that in mind, Levari recently conducted a series of studies to find out if the human brain searches for problems even when problems become infrequent or don’t exist.“
“As we experience fewer problems, we don’t become more satisfied. We just lower our threshold for what we consider a problem.“
In other words, even when our lives are virtually problem free, instead of appreciating our good fortune we just start making up shit that we can complain about instead.
And then our politicians cock their greasy, finely-tuned ears in our direction and make up policies to appease our mostly-insubstantial concerns. And they invent their own trivial “wedge” issues to get us to all bicker about our different cultures and religions, suddenly caring about things that would not have even been problems if nobody told us they were.
And there’s America’s weakness in a nutshell, and meanwhile our strength comes entirely from the times we choose not to waste our time stooping to this level.
Meanwhile, the opposite effect holds true: people who survive in rougher environments than us end up more resilient and less prone to complaining.
In a series of recent interviews, Ukrainian people living in the war zones of their occupied country were asked “is it safe to live where you live?” and a strangely high percentage still said “Yes” – not all that different from the responses of US residents when asked the same question about their own cities.
This adaptation principle also explains why some first generation immigrants tend to build businesses and wealth while their own offspring in second and third generations are more likely to become complacent and spend it down. As an immigrant myself, I can see why this is: conditions were just slightly more harsh and less comfortable and wealthy where I grew up, so I adapted to those conditions as “normal” which made the United States seem posh and easy by comparison. Which made it easier to spend less money and accumulate more.
Tree Therapy
The trap of pointless worry is just one of the many revelations of The Comfort Crisis. It also gives insightful explanations for why spending time in Nature boosts our mental and physical health, while cubicles and car driving grind us down.
There’s something in our biological wiring that responds instantly and powerfully to everything natural, in ways that you can’t get anywhere else.
Even placing a single plant into a hospital room will measurably improve the recovery of almost all patients from almost all ailments. So can you imagine the power of the medicine you are inhaling if you step into a real, living forest? And what if you spent several hours there, or even several days?
Later, we get lessons on our human adaptation towards the ratio of effort to reward:
It’s proven the harder you work for something, the happier you’ll be about it,”
And our bizarre natural aversion to physical exertion:
A figure that shows just how predisposed humans are to default to comfort:
2 (two).
That’s the percent of people who take the stairs when they also have the option to take an escalator.
Which is remarkable, given the absolutely insane cost this tendency imposes upon us.
Moving your body, even a bit, has enormous benefits – again to almost all people towards reducing the probability and severity of almost all diseases. So can you imagine the benefit of moving your body for several hours per day in a natural environment, and including heavy load bearing and bits of extreme exertion?
These things are not speculative pieces of alternative medicine. They are known, easily and reproducibly tested, and proven to be the most effective things we can possibly do with our time.
So why, the actual fuck, are people still sitting inside, watching Netflix, driving to work, and then driving to the doctor’s office to get deeper and deeper analysis of a neverending series of exotic and mysterious and unsolvable problems with their physical and mental health?
We should at least start with the stuff we know is essential – maximum outdoor time every day, heavy exertion including with weights, minimal time spent sitting and driving, and minimum junk food, sugar, and alcohol. You definitely don’t have to be perfect, but just understand that these are the big levers for physical and mental health.
Only then, once you reach these minimum basic things for human survival, should you expect that more exotic and niche medicines and treatments are the only course of action.
By all means, follow your doctor’s orders and don’t just dump all of your medications down the sink because of this MMM rant. But at the same time, realize that the stuff that is hard and uncomfortable is very likely to be the stuff that improves your life the most.
It’s all the stuff that Mr. Money Mustache has been telling you since 2012, but with more detail and less distraction. This book is a concentrated packet of advice for solid living.
Real Life Inspiration from the Good Book
In a happy coincidence, I happened to be in the middle of some hard stuff** of my own as I worked my way through The Comfort Crisis and I found the perspective quite useful and transformative to apply hot off the press.
Normally somewhat of a homebody, I had embarked on a solo journey for some Carpentourism deep in the mountains of Southwestern Colorado. I had my whole life shrunk down into the new Model Y including food, bed, and the necessary tools and materials to tackle a pretty long laundry list of tasks on two different construction projects (fixing up a mini-resort property in Salida, and starting construction on a small cabin in Durango)
The trip immediately took a turn towards the dramatic as I climbed into the mountains and drove straight into the most torrential rainstorm I have ever seen, then accidentally broke a traffic law in a remote mountain town right in front of both of the local police officers ($115 fine and two points off my license), then five minutes after that had a small pebble hit my brand-new windshield which instantly spread into a crack that spans the whole thing, all before finally limping into Salida to unpack and get started on the work.
“Big deal”, I can already hear you saying, “Retired man experiences two minor incidents while taking a vacation in his luxury car.”
And you’re right, and that is exactly my point.
My life is so stable and comfortable that even these two miniature challenges threw me off balance, and I arrived in a slightly bummed and stressed-out state. But I still knew that in the bigger picture, they are good for me if I accept them as I accept them as the lessons they are rather than choosing to continue to worry about them.
As the trip went on, more things happened, almost as if The Comfort Crisis book were trying to prove a point. I drove three hours deeper into the mountains and up the steep dirt road to arrive at my second friend’s piece of land – a plot of forest in the mountains just outside of Durango.
My work days in that high desert environment in the peak of summer were hot and physically demanding. It was hard to keep my tools, and my food supply in the cooler, and myself protected from the scorching sun (and a strange neverending blizzard of tree pollen) while still getting the job done. There was no indoor plumbing and we had to be very careful with our limited water supply. And then at the end of each day I had to reshuffle everything and set my car back up as a bedroom and crawl in for the night. Alone and far from home.
But instead of feeling depressed as I experienced this constant hardship, the opposite thing was happening: I felt more alive and more badass with each passing day. I got better at being a feral forest man.
One day, my co-builder and I decided to take the afternoon off and head to the wild, remote Lemon Reservoir for some paddleboarding. We didn’t bring our phones or any other conveniences or amenities – just two boards and the minimal clothing required for swimming. And we headed out into a stiff headwind and little whitecap waves, laughing at the freedom of the experience.
It was hard, and slightly scary, as we got further and further from the shore. Progress was slow even with serious paddling, and we didn’t have any particular plan beyond the spirit of “let’s GO!”
But again Michael Easter was there whispering in my ear, saying,
“Is this difficult, Mustache? GOOOOoood! Then you’d better keep going!”
So we did. And we got way out into that lake, to a point where the water was shielded from the wind by the mountains on the other side. And it was awesome.
We cruised over to the shore to explore a particularly scenic meadow, coated with the softest green mossy grass and exuberantly colored wildflowers, and set at an impossibly steep angle. And damn I wished that I could have taken pictures, but in a strange way this forced me to burn that spot more thoroughly into my memories using my own senses instead.
Then we headed back out into the center of the lake, set down the paddles, and just laid down on our boards to let the wind and the waves take us back towards the far end of the lake where we had started. And what a strange, serene feeling it was, floating on just a tube of air over two hundred feet of cold blue water, feeling like a jungle man with no cares and no plans and no material possessions. It could have been scary, but instead it was one of the best and most relaxed moments of my life.
Eventually, this week of forest living and exertion had to come to an end so I could get back to my own town to be a Dad again. But it ended with a final reminder of the principles of the Comfort Crisis – after so many days relatively extreme work and a relatively sparse food supply, I had grown used to a healthy background hunger. Which is yet another thing that we are meant to experience as humans – being satisfied and free from hunger all the time is neither normal nor healthy.
But when my hosts took me out on the town for a final night thank you dinner at the Mexican restaurant, the immense Burrito platter I consumed turned out to be the most delicious meal of my life.
Purposeful Hardship vs. Purposeful Spending
There has been a lot of talk directed at the FIRE community recently about how bad we are at spending our money, and how we all need to loosen up. And there’s a small amount of truth to it, as my local friends Carl and Mindy recently admitted during a grilling on the Ramit Sethi podcast.
But we also need to keep this whole idea of excessive comfort in mind, and the damage it does to the natural human condition.
It’s great to spend money on adventures and improving yourself, being generous to others, and making the world a better place.
But it’s also way too easy to fool yourself into thinking you “want” things that just make your life easier and easier.
So your job is to catch yourself before this happens, and learn to keep things challenging, even as you upgrade the rest of your life experience.
In other words: buy yourself better tools, not softer chairs.
—-
* Another great book that follows this style is Wired for Love by neruroscientist Stephanie Cacioppo – highly recommended for reading in parallel with a lover, whether new or old.
** not actually hard by reasonable human standards, but it seemed hard by my comfort addicted first world standards
This is a guest post from Cathy, who writes about family finances, cooking, and parenting at Chief Family Officer.
I love the philosophy of getting rich slowly by doing the fundamentals: spend less than you earn, pay off debt, and invest wisely. One way that I save money is with what I call The Drugstore Game.
The Drugstore Game involves combining manufacturer and store coupons, and taking advantage of a store’s best deals. When played at the highest level, the Drugstore Game requires only a couple of dollars out of pocket each week to keep you and your family stocked on necessities like toiletries, paper goods and even groceries.
Real-Life Examples
I recently bought an 8-pack of Bounty Basic paper towels, a Venus Embrace razor, and a tube of Aquafresh Extreme Clean toothpaste for $1.81 out of pocket at CVS. If I’d bought the same items at Target (where I used to shop), I would have paid at least $13, even after manufacturer coupons. That doesn’t take into account the $7.99 CVS store coupon I received that I can use on a future purchase.
At Walgreens recently, I bought ten tubes of Crest ProHealth toothpaste, three bottles of Cascade dishwashing gel, a box of two Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, two boxes of 3-oz. Dixie paper cups, two 20-ft boxes of aluminum foil, a small bottle of Dawn dishwashing liquid, a Venus Embrace razor, a tube of Blistex, an Oral B Cross Action toothbrush, four cans of Spaghetti O’s, three cans of Campbells condensed soup, one can of tomato paste, and one box of cereal. I paid only $16.54 for all of these items.
Interested in savings like these? Then read on…
Playing the Game
To play the Drugstore Game well, you’ll need the following fundamentals:
Have an understanding of how store coupons and manufacturer coupons work together. Most people are familiar with coupons that come with the Sunday newspaper. These are generally manufacturer coupons that can be used at any store that takes coupons. Manufacturer coupons can usually be combined with a store coupon. A store coupon is one put out by the store. For example, if you have a $1 off Pampers manufacturer coupon and a $1 off Pampers CVS coupon, you can use both coupons at CVS to get $2 off a package of diapers.
Have an understanding of the various store rewards programs. My personal favorite drugstore is CVS, which has the ExtraCareBucks (ECBs) program. ECBs are coupons that print at the end of a receipt after qualifying purchases. The coupons can then be used like cash on a future purchase. Each week, CVS sells items that are “free after ECBs,” meaning that if a toothbrush is on sale for $2.99, you’ll get a $2.99 ECB coupon at the end of your receipt. Walgreens has a somewhat similar program called Register Rewards, as well as the monthly Easy Saver rebate program. Riteaid has the Single Check Rebate program. For a summary of the CVS and Walgreens programs, check out the “Beginners Start Here” section at Money Saving Mom (over in the sidebar). Be Thrifty Like Us has a primer on the Drugstore Game that includes Riteaid.
Have an understanding of how coupons and rewards programs work together to save you money. This is the tricky part, but it is absolutely worth mastering. In the toothbrush example above, a Drugstore Game pro would never pay the full $2.99. Instead, she would probably have a $1.50 off manufacturer coupon. So she’ll pay $1.49 and receive $2.99 that she can use to buy more items. A typical scenario is the one I described in the introduction, where I paid only $1.81 out of pocket. I used a $7.98 ECB coupon to make the purchase, and received $7.99 in ECBs on my receipt. This process is called “rolling over,” and it is what allows Drugstore Game pros to spend less than $2 out of pocket each week while never running out of necessities.
Have good sources of information. You could sit at home poring over the weekly and monthly drugstore circulars, or you could simply sit down at your computer and visit the sites that do all the math for you. If you visit only one site for your Drugstore Game playbook, it should be Money Saving Mom, which lists all of the weekly and monthly drugstore deals, puts together sample scenarios for free or “money-making” deals, and has a robust community that supplies updates. There are many other sites that provide different scenarios, and I’ve found it helpful to read them and find scenarios that best match what my own needs (and coupons) are. These sites also link to available printable coupons in case you don’t have one from the newspaper. You can find a list of my favorite deal sources at CFO Reviews.
Have an understanding and acceptance of the necessity of buying non-necessities in order to maximize store rewards coupons. This can be a difficult concept if you are frugal and constantly ask yourself if you really need an item before you buy it. However, for maximum savings, it’s essential to overcome the tendency to exercise shopping restraint. Mommy Making Money has a good explanation of how buying things she doesn’t need helps her buy those things that she does. (She also describes what she does with those unnecessary items, since they do pile up!)
In my first two months of playing the Drugstore Game, I calculated that I saved over $50. And that’s despite many “mistakes” because I didn’t really understand how to roll over ECBs by buying non-necessities. Now that I have a much better grasp of this concept, I expect to save my family hundreds of dollars before the year is over.
Getting Started
If you want to start playing The Drugstore Game, figure out which drugstores are most convenient for you. Then check out BeCentsable for links to deals of the week for your particular store (click on the ‘Grocery Gathering’ tab, then on the store name.). If you don’t have the right coupons for that week’s deals, don’t worry! Just buy the Sunday newspaper and start with the next week’s deals. (Be sure to cut out all of the coupons, not just the ones for items that you’re interested in. You never know what will turn out to be a moneymaker!)
Also, when you head to the store, bring a calculator in case you have to re-work some of your deals due to some items being out of stock. And take the circulars with you (or pick them up in the store before you start walking around). The stores don’t always mark the shelves properly, and sometimes the only way to tell which item qualifies for a deal is to check the printed circular.
Good luck! May you become a Drugstore Game champion!
I’ve been working at home for a month now. I like it. The first week was a little scary, but the past few weeks have been immensely productive. I’ve caught up on e-mail. I’ve conducted and given some interviews. And I’ve planned some posts for the future.
Most of my day is spent at my desk writing. The first few days were awful. My wrists hurt. I couldn’t find the right chair height to match my keyboard and desk. Eventually I discovered a solution: move the keyboard from the keyboard tray to the desk and raise my seat so that I can use the entire desk surface to support my arms. But this created another problem. Apparently my legs are a little short. When I raised my seat to its maximum height — which is where it needs to be — my toes dangled a couple inches above the floor. I felt like a little boy.
Because an ergonomic office is vital for what I’m doing, I went to the nearby office supply store to buy a footrest. “Sure, we have those,” the helpful salesman said. “Well, we have one model, anyhow,” he added.
He led me to the fax machines to show me their single footrest. (Why was it with the fax machines? I have no idea. I would have put it with the chairs and desks.) I picked it up and was going to buy it, but then I thought to ask, “How much does this cost?”
“$49.99,” he said.
“Fifty dollars?” I said. I think my jaw dropped.
“Well, $49.99,” he said. “It’s a very nice footrest — it’s fully customizable.”
“No thanks,” I said, putting the footrest back on the shelf. “I could build the most beautiful footrest in the world for $50.”
“Yeah, you probably could,” agreed the helpful salesman.
Originally, I had planned to use a block of wood to prop up my feet, but then decided an actual footrest would be a treat for myself. But not for $50. (Nor $49.99.)
Instead, I drove home and rummaged through my woodpile. Wouldn’t you know it? I found an 18″ length of two-by-four and a 12″ scrap of something else. Three nails later, I had my own frugal version of a customizable footrest.
Depending on my mood, I can angle my feet up or down. I can set the block of wood in a high position or a low position. I’ve been using my footrest for two weeks now. It works great. Sure, it’s ugly, but that’s okay. I like that it’s ugly. Every time I see it, it reminds me that I have an extra $50 in my pocket.
Kris and I love our neighborhood. People are friendly and helpful, yet mostly mind their own business. It’s a perfect combination. One of our favorite neighbors is the old guy next door. Let’s call him John.
John is a 71-year-old retired shop teacher who lives in a modest ranch house on half an acre, the same house he’s had for over forty years. He has an old barn filled with salvaged lumber, outdated appliances, and who knows what else. When he’s around, he drives a junkie 25-year-old station wagon. But most of the time, he’s not around.
He spends his winters in New Zealand helping friends on a dairy farm. His summers are spent fishing in Alaska. For a couple of months each year, he’s home, puttering in the yard. Year-round, he rents his house to boarders. He leads a very active retirement.
John is full of advice, all of it laden with colorful euphemisms. When I erected my berry patch, he was the one who told me how to build the trellises and gave me the material to do so. He’s eager to help us prune our shrubberies. “I can get my chainsaw and cut the damn things out,” he says with a big grin.
A few months ago, John asked if I had a roll of plastic. “Actually, I do,” I said. “It’s greenhouse plastic. Will that work?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’m just going to use it to make storm windows. I build a wooden frame and then stretch the plastic around it, and that lets me save money on my heating bill.”
John was working in the yard recently when I returned from a trip to the book store. “What do you have there?” he asked by way of conversation.
“Nothing much,” I said. “Just a few books on personal finance.” I showed him the titles. His face broke out in a grin, and a twinkle appeared in his eye.
“That’s great,” he said. “That’s really great. I’m glad to see somebody as young as you are interested in investing.”
“I’m not that young,” I muttered.
“Sure you are,” he said. “You have a long time ahead of you. And if you get started now, you can save a hell of a lot of money.” We’d never talked about money before (and he had no idea I keep a web site about personal finance).
“Let me tell you something,” he said. “I was a school teacher. I didn’t have a big salary. But I saved what I could, and I invested it. I got a little lucky, but mostly I just kept putting the money away. Do you know much I have now?” I shook my head. “Over a million dollars,” he said. “And all because I kept at it. And because I did stuff like this.” He waved his hand to indicate his yard.
I looked at his apple tree and his grape vines and his raspberry canes. I looked at the house with the make-shift storm windows. I looked at his 25-year-old station wagon. I looked at his beat-up charcoal grill. I looked at his shabby clothes.
“I don’t buy anything unless I need it,” he said. “And even then I try to find something used. Let other people buy the new stuff. I try to scrounge for everything I need. It may not seem like much, but it makes a real difference. By pinching my pennies right along, I’ve been able to set aside money to invest. And now I can do whatever the hell I want.”
This exchange made me smile, of course. Here’s a man who has lived the philosophy I’ve adopted for myself, who has lived the philosophy I espouse on this web site. He has lived this life and has been successful. Here’s a man who is happy and fulfilled. Here’s a man who is a real-life millionaire next door.
Best of all, here’s a man who brings me fresh-caught Alaskan salmon every fall.
Sometimes people write to tell me that nobody can get rich slowly. “That’s no way to live,” they say. I don’t believe them. I’ve seen enough examples of people in my own life who have become rich the slow and steady way. John is one of them. It’s true I’ve known a couple of people who inherited wealth, and a couple more who achieved wealth via small business. But I’ve never known anyone personally who got rich quickly.
Our friends have a profound effect on our personal finance habits. Some friends can lead us to spending and to debt. Others offer insight into the virtues of thrift. For me, my friend Sparky has been the latter. Through his example, I learned that frugality can help me achieve my goals.
“Develop a plan that is so amazing, so glowing, that you are willing to walk blurry-eyed to work every day to make the money necessary to reach the light.” — Sparky’s advice to GRS readers in 2006
After my friend Sparky graduated from college, he drifted. He couldn’t hold a steady job, and he didn’t stay in one place for long. He traveled to Mexico. He moved to New England. He lived in various cities in Oregon and Washington.
“I don’t know how you can do it,” he told me once when he saw our new house. “You have a home and a wife and the same job you had five years ago. I’d hate that.” He lived as a First World nomad.
Choosing Freedom
I visited Sparky once in early 1996. I stayed overnight at his apartment in Eugene while I played in a nearby chess tournament. I was amazed by his Spartan lifestyle. He had no television. He had few books and little furniture. Most of what he owned had been purchased second-hand. His refrigerator was almost completely empty. (In my memory, it contained only two items: a carton of milk and a bottle of ketchup.) Sparky’s only indulgence seemed to be a collection of bootleg U2 CDs.
“How can you live like this?” I asked him. “Where’s all of your Stuff?”
Sparky smiled at me. “I don’t need a lot of Stuff, J.D. The Stuff is not important. To be honest, I don’t know why you have so much Stuff. How do you live like that?”
I didn’t know what he meant at the time. To me, life was all about the Stuff. I had hundreds of CDs and thousands of books. I had a TV, a stereo, a house, and a car. I wanted more. Sparky had none of these, but he had something I did not. Sparky had freedom. His frugal lifestyle allowed him to save and invest. I marveled at how he squirreled away his money. I didn’t understand how he managed it. I made at least twice what he did, but he had money in the bank and I had none. Instead, I had $20,000 in debt and was taking on more every day.
For some reason, I could not see the connection between Sparky’s thrifty lifestyle and his financial success. I could not see the connection between my own profligate ways and my mounting debt. I was blind.
The Razor’s Edge
During the summer of 1997, Sparky and I went for a hike. As we walked, we talked. He told me about his plans and his goals. He was living in a small town in northern Washington, working two full-time jobs, a part-time job, and getting free rent in exchange for housesitting with an elderly homeowner. “I’ve only had five or six days off in the past eight months,” he said.
“That seems crazy,” I said. “Why are you working so hard?”
“I want to travel around the world,” he said. “You know that I don’t have a lot of Stuff. There’s a reason for that. Material possessions tie a person down to one place. I can’t travel if I have a house and a car and all of that other Stuff.”
He told me about the trip he had planned. He had a one-way ticket to Thailand. From there, he hoped to travel to India and then Israel, but he didn’t have any sort of agenda. “I’m just going to go,” he said. “I’m going to travel as long as my money holds out.”
“You sound like Larry Darrell,” I said, referring to The Razor’s Edge, W. Somerset Maugham’s 1944 book about a young American disenchanted with the way of the West. “Larry lives like a pauper, but is able to loaf around Europe and India while searching for enlightenment. It’s a great book. You should read it.”
“Maybe I will,” he said. And then he added, “Do you want to come with me?” Of course I did, but I couldn’t. I was in debt. I had no savings. I couldn’t afford to drop out of Real Life for five months. How would I pay for all of my Stuff?
Sparky went on his trip. He backpacked across the world alone, and he loved it. He sent me postcards from stops along the way: from Thailand and India, from Nepal and Israel and Jordan and Egypt. He was gone for five months. Because he was not burdened by Stuff, he returned to a financial position similar to the one he had left. He didn’t have a mortgage or other debt. His savings and investments were still intact. He had lived for five months without an income, it’s true, but he’d spent exactly what he budgeted, and he’d had the experience of a lifetime.
Quiet Wealth
When Sparky got back, he settled down to a more normal way of life. He got a real job. He even bought a house. Still he continued to pinch his pennies, spending only on the things that really mattered to him. Eventually, I began to see the connection between his lifestyle and his quiet wealth.
When I started Get Rich Slowly, Sparky was enthusiastic. He talked to me about my newfound appreciation for personal finance. He shared his favorite books, his favorite tips, and his favorite mutual funds. A few of our conversations even became fodder for GRS stories:
Money blueprints: What our parents taught us about money
An entrepreneurial leap of faith
A brief conversation about money
Whereas I had once viewed Sparky’s ascetic lifestyle as a little strange, I began to understand it as a means to an end. Perhaps I couldn’t be as frugal as he was, but I could still learn from some of his lessons. We had some great conversations about money and about goals and about the future. I looked forward to learning more from him.
That’s not going to happen.
The Last Lesson
Sparky died unexpectedly last week. We had been close friends for 25 years, and he was an important part of my life. He challenged me. He believed in me more than I believe in myself. I cannot say that Sparky was without fault. Like anyone, he had his quirks. But on the whole, he was a positive influence in my life, and when it came to money, he was a shining example of how to live right. I’ll never have the chance to learn from him again.
Please, my friends, always remember that true wealth has nothing to do with money. True wealth is built from friends and family, from experiences and relationships — it is derived from a life filled with meaning. Without these things, money means nothing. Do me a favor this week, and spend some time with the people you love.
Eating well is one of the small pleasures that I decided not to forego when I dug myself out of credit card debt. I’m a busy bachelor with an active social life and an absorbing job; I like food with a lot of flavor to it; and I live in a rural area without a lot of shopping or coupon options. These three things don’t usually go hand-in-hand with eating well or cheaply.
To meet my financial goals, I had to keep my food budget under $100 per month — that’s $25 a week to feed one or two people (since I often cook for dates and friends). It’s been a challenge. Luckily, in Texas and many other states, there is no sales tax on unprepared foods. Using a few simple strategies I managed to meet my goal and then some. I didn’t eat rice and beans for the entire month (unlike Morgan Spurlock), I don’t waste time digging through supermarket circulars, and I don’t spend hours in the kitchen every night. This is definitely the lazy man’s approach to groceries on a budget.
Here’s a quick rundown of my method:
I joined discount clubs at the supermarkets I frequented, and I gave them my real address. Kroger sends me coupons once a month.
I shop for fresh vegetables at the Farmer’s Market. Produce at our farmer’s market is literally half the price as the grocery store.
I have family members send me coupons. (This is also a great way to keep in touch with my grandparents, who don’t have email and who I don’t get to talk to all that often.)
Where it makes sense, I buy store brands to save money.
I make a large shopping run at the beginning of the month, and then only go to the farmer’s market for fresh vegetables during the rest of the month. If I don’t have an ingredient, I make something else. This forces me to get creative and use what I do have.
I plan my meals to use the same or similar ingredients. That way I can buy in bulk and I rarely have to get creative.
I buy staples in larger “family” quantities, and I also shop the short-dated bins for meats, which I usually grill immediately.
The most important thing by far has been getting creative with leftovers. I don’t let anything go to waste, and that’s saying something considering the quantities I buy.
For instance, I typically will buy a 12-pack of fresh thick-cut boneless pork chops at the grocery store near the beginning of the month. (I always compare prices between the butcher’s counter and the meat aisle — you’d be surprised how often the butcher’s counter is cheaper!) For the week after I grill, I have meals that feature pork chops: plain pork chops with various sides, pork chops on top of fresh salads, pork chop slices with barbecue sauce and cheese in a tortilla. You get the idea.
Another perennial favorite is taco meat. A frozen one-pound tube of ground turkey is $2. Taco seasoning from the bulk aisle is $5 per pound (though a pound will last longer than I’ll live!). Besides tacos, taquitos, and nachos, taco meat goes great on fresh salads or mixed with another side dish like beans and rice. That’s five or six meals right there without any repeats. The base ingredient is about $3 for those five meals.
Tacos use the same ingredients as a salad: olives, tomatoes, lettuce, and cheese. Soups, stews, and Spaghetti sauce are in the same category. I make my own spaghetti sauce to an old family recipe using canned tomato sauce and a pound of ground turkey. It freezes well, costs less than $5 to make in a batch, and takes only a minute to reheat. I generally make it once a month.
Don’t buy ingredients that work for only a single meal. A friend of mine loves an arugula salad that I make with lemon balsamic dressing, but I don’t make it for her regularly because you can’t really use the arugula before it goes bad.
On the other hand, one of the few products I buy from my grocery store’s produce section is bagged whole romaine hearts. They come three to a plastic bag for $3. Romaine hearts will keep for at least two weeks fresh in the bag, and it only takes a minute to wash and chop them into salad. (Use the entire heart, of course. Don’t peel the green leaves off. The paler parts are very sweet and juicy!) Don’t buy bagged, pre-cut lettuce — it’s soggy and unappetizing after less than a week.
Be careful with coupons. Make sure you carry a calculator (I use the one on my cell phone) to figure out if it’s really a good deal versus the store brands. You’ll usually find, like I do, that store brands are cheaper. On the other hand, you can find things are a better value — buying lunch meat in the re-useable containers has actually proven to be a good value because you can wash and keep the container. At my grocery store it’s more expensive to buy the containers than it is to buy the half-pound of lunch meat that comes in them!
It seems my grandparents’ lessons are always the best. “Waste not, want not.” I watch my neighbors’ trashcans and shake my head every week. I hardly throw out anything, but some of them seem to fill their trashcans to the brim with kitchen waste every week. How can you get rich (slowly or not!) if you’re throwing out that much food?
For more about eating well for less, check out these past articles at Get Rich Slowly:
Images by Jesse Michael Nix and desi.italy. This article is not associated with Lazy Man and Money, but you should visit his site anyhow.
Wine is one of those little things that bring me pleasure. I enjoy discovering new wines, but I’m not a wine snob. As I’ve mentioned before, my favorite wines are those that taste great but don’t break the bank.
I recently asked Gary Vaynerchuk — host of Wine Library TV — if he could suggest some good inexpensive wines for spring and summer. Gary put together a special episode of his program just for GRS readers:
“You want to talk about ‘get rich slowly’? Look for value plays in wines,” Gary says. “If you don’t overspend on wine, you’ve got more money in the bank!”
He makes a great point. As with anything, the key is to find value. Find wines that you like that don’t cost an arm-and-a-leg. I used to buy $40 and $50 bottles of wine. Sure, they were great — but you know what? I’ve found that it’s actually more fun — and certainly better for my budget — to find wines under $10 that I enjoy. One of the best parts of frugality is the sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing you’ve found something worthwhile without spending a lot of money.
Here are the bottles that Gary mentions in his video:
Domaine De Laure Rose 2007 (~$7) — Gary says that a rosé is a perfect wine for spring or summer, served chilled while sitting on your porch.
El Hada Verdejo Viura 2008 (~$8-$9) —
Dolianova Vermentino Di Sardegna Prendas 2007 (~$12) — “Great with shellfish.”
Beau Joubert Sauvignon Blanc 2008 (~$8-$9)
Chateau Pesquie Les Terrasses 2006 (~$10-$15)
JT Cellars Petite Sirah 2006 (~$9) — “Bigger and more complex than sirah.”
Correaux Beaujolais Villages 2007 (~$7-$11) — Gary says that “beaujolais is an amazing play with fish.”
La Sera Barbera D’alba Il Cielo 2006 (~$12) — A great alternative to chianti. Goes well with veal and pasta.
Fiorano Montepulciano D’abruzzo 2007 (~$8-$9) — “A pizza wine for a Wednesday.”
Quiteria Loma Gorda 2006 (~$10-$12)
Seidelberg Pinotage 2006 (~$9-$10) — Gary says that pinotage is “a very controversial grape.” (Ha! I love it. “Controversial grape.”)
Barrandica Mendoza 2005 (~$12) — “Tastes much better than most $25 California cab-merlot wines.”
You may not be able to find these exact bottles in your supermarket or wine store. That’s okay. If that’s true, then try to find the same varietal. If you can’t find the Dolianova Vermentino Di Sardegna Prendas 2007, for example, then simply look for a vermentino. (Even that might be a challenge.) The key is to be adventurous. Don’t just drink pinot noir and chardonnay. Try new things.
“Go out and explore and expand your palate,” Gary says. “Try different wines, wines from Argentina and South Africa and the south of France. So much great stuff out there…Get out there and try new things. The only way you’re going to know if you like a wine is if you taste it.”
When you do find a wine you love, write it down. If you discover that it’s within your budget, stock up. Consider buying a case. That’s what I’ve begun to do when I find a wine I like. Over the past year, I’ve purchased two cases of wine, and I want to purchase one more. The one-time expense can seem huge, but in the long run, buying in bulk will save me money.
Luxuries like wine (and chocolate and good cheese and…) can be difficult to justify for a frugal shopper. But if you budget well and shop carefully, you can enjoy drinking wine without spending a fortune.
Previously at Get Rich Slowly, Gary Vaynerchuk has offered advice on how to find good wines at great prices and inexpensive wines for a romantic dinner. You can catch more of Gary at WIne Library TV.