Broke-Ass Mom: Who is This Mommy No Bucks?

Terrible Twos

“What makes life interesting is not the things you own, but the shit you do.” This is Broke-Ass Stuart’s mantra and I couldn’t agree more.

Hi. I’m the new Broke-Ass Mom in town, but please call me “Mommy No Bucks”. I’ve recently shed my three piece navy suit, nude stockings, pump heels, blackberry, and briefcase, for a pair of roomy jeans, a comfortable t-shirt, sweater, versatile jacket with pockets big enough for my cell phone, and wallet, and a stroller. Oh yes, and a two-year old son.

My husband and I had a quick chat during the wedding reception almost three years ago. And by quick, I mean, “Hey, let’s make a baby”. Bamm! Sixteen days later we were pregnant. (Hard to believe I spent my life trying not to get pregnant, and the very first time I tried, oops, there it is, as they say).

We were living in an old Victorian one-bedroom apartment and had no intention of giving it up any time soon just because a baby was coming. Our first task, where will it sleep? My solution was a drawer in our bedroom, Stuart Little-style, my husband’s solution was a little more humane, and Harry Potter-style, the walk-in hallway closet under the stairs.

We had already given up our car almost five years ago and gave over our life to our feet and mass transportation. We weren’t willing to change this either, so our next question was how could we get around with this new baby? For now, I’ll just tell you we went three to four months with no stroller. (I can’t give away all my secrets – I want you begging for more.)

As a family of three on a single salary we find ourselves tapping into some pretty innovative ways of enjoying life and each other. As an aspiring writer, I’m pumped to be on the Broke-ass team. I have dreams of seeing my name in a newspaper (assuming they’re not out-of-print by then), a magazine (assuming they still exist), or a book (assuming they haven’t all been replaced by Kindles) some day. But in the meantime, come with me on my new journey as I learn my way through Mommy-No-Bucks.

Questions, tips, comments, fuck-yous or any other random thoughts are welcome. Let’s all raise a glass to our moms for raising us, our dads for loving us, and now our children for putting up with us as we drag our asses through the mud and learn to become parents.