Welcome toMoney Diaries , where we're tackling what might be the last taboo facing modern working women: money. We're asking millennials how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we're tracking every last dollar. (Thanks,New York mag , for the inspiration.)
Today, a stay-at-home mother and writer, budgeting student loans for a family of three.
Industry: Stay-at-home parent and writer
Age: 27
Location: New York City
"Income" From Husband’s Loans: $56,500. My husband receives federal student loans twice a year — both Stafford and Grad Plus loans. These loans are only intended to support my husband, with a small budget (essentially, just a small loan increase) approved by his school for our daughter. These aren't intended to be enough to support a spouse, as well, which is why budgeting is so important for us. We take the maximum amount of loans offered to him.
Loan Disbursement (2x a year): $26,000
Husband’s Summer Income (1x): $4,500
Freelance Editing Income: Varies. We don’t budget or depend on this income.
Family Size: 2 adults, 1 toddler
Monthly Expenses
Rent: $1,872 for a one bedroom in Manhattan. Our apartment is located on the Upper West Side, just a few streets away from my husband's classes. When my husband was accepted into his program, he is able to enter into a housing "lottery" for university-owned, student housing. We had to pay close to $4,000 (first and security) in the summer just to secure the apartment without even knowing more than the square footage. However, I'm extremely pleased with the apartment. It turns out it's the nicest place we've ever lived.
Loan Payments: $0 for both of us while husband is in school
Phone Bill: $49 for one iPhone we share
Internet: $45
Health Insurance: $0, Medicaid for the family
Netflix: $9.99
Savings: $0. We have an emergency fund, but nothing we currently add to.
12 Boxes Of Annie’s Organic Mac & Cheese (Amazon Subscribe & Save): $28
Laundry (Including Detergent): $25
Diapers & Wipes: $45
Day One
3 a.m. — My daughter wakes up and I bring water in for her and myself and silently panic about what her mood and nap time will be like today. If I had a ship, I'd batten down the hatches. But I’m not a captain, I'm a mom. I settle for just trying not to cry.
7 to 9 a.m. — The baby sleeps late! I start my daughter’s day off with a banana, fresh pineapple, almond milk, and a bowl of yogurt. I choke down a vegan protein shake that I blend with coffee. We run out of dish soap while I'm cleaning, so I just make my own with bulk Castile soap we keep at home and water. The lather sucks, but I love the almond scent.
9:45 a.m. — Baby and I arrive a few minutes before the library opens and it is pouring rain. It's cold and miserable outside, so the library is packed with parents and nannies. The toddlers inside sense our vulnerability and run us ragged. By the time we leave, I'm nauseous from hunger, but I only packed organic grapes for my daughter’s snack, so I skip sharing hers, because it’s one of the more expensive types of organic produce we buy and we try to save that for her.
11:30 a.m. — We walk home from the library and I change my daughter, feed her homemade crackers, and put her down for a nap. I eat some of the pineapple I cut up earlier and make some peppermint tea. I need to get some work done for a small site I'm trying to get up and running, so I put off lunch 'til later.
12 p.m. — My husband and I have a brief talk and agree that we’ve put off a new computer for too long. His academic career depends on having a good laptop and we’ve had a shared Mac laptop for over three years. It works, it’s just not dependable enough, since he takes some of his exams on the laptop he brings to class. The school does one loan adjustment (increase) for the years he’s in graduate school, so this will technically not affect our yearly budget. Practically, it feels more like we’re expensing it (in all actuality, we’ll pay for it later, with interest). I’m not happy to take on additional loans, but at least we have extra financial support to deal with an expense that only comes around every three-to-five years.
12:30 to 2 p.m. — I snack on a handful of carrots and hummus. I do my daily 15 minutes of yoga (free from a YouTube channel) and spend 20 minutes reading a library book. Lunch is a pre-made veggie ravioli from last week’s grocery run. I make cinnamon rolls and clean the kitchen while baby eats.
2 p.m. — I play with my daughter on our rug, fold laundry, and vacuum in-between dancing, chants, and racing small trucks around the room. She gets a cup of almond milk and I end up setting her up for some Netflix so I can sort the mail and clean the fridge to see what we need from the store. I eat two cinnamon rolls and brew a cup of coffee. Baby eats one cinnamon roll and my husband eats two.
4 p.m. — My husband takes our daughter to the Apple store, where he buys a laptop for $1,232.46.
Meanwhile, I grocery shop — I go to Trader Joe's, because the prices are good, but it's always PACKED with tired, hungry New Yorkers. None of us are our best selves in there. Our family loosely aims for a total food budget of $125 a week, so this gives us wiggle room for a produce purchase mid-week and some eating out. I get bananas, frozen pizza, cereal, almond milk, pineapples, organic hummus, organic baby carrots, organic berries and grapes, veggie ravioli meals, lean ground beef, organic yogurt, organic peanut butter, organic tomatoes, broccoli florets, "riced" cauliflower, an onion, pumpkin toaster pastries, apples (all organic apples sold out), lemons, organic spinach, and organic bread. $87.81
6:30 p.m. — We meet up after I grocery shop. We have a great ride home with lots of hugs and kisses over all our grocery bags. This is basically the student family version of a date. Subway (both ways) costs us $8.25.
7 to 10 p.m. — Late dinner for the baby. She gets grapes and the three of us share scrambled eggs. Baby gets put to bed. I work on my site, watch TV, and drink a glass of wine. A few weeks ago I found a bulk, box wine for around $34 that stays fresh for six weeks and is much better on the environment than bottles. I also eat one more cinnamon roll while laying out naked in my armchair, contemplating my stretch marks. The cinnamon roll tastes really good.
Daily Total: $1,328.52
Day Two
6 a.m. — My daughter wakes up and gets her routine breakfast. I skip breakfast. We play with trucks, her baby doll, and I try to make cleaning the house into a game for her (which turns out to be fun for no one).
8 a.m. — Off to the playground. I stop at my local Starbucks and use an old gift card to get a small black coffee, so it costs $0. Ever since I left my career as an adjunct professor and librarian to stay home and started brewing coffee at home in a Chemex, I never craved Starbucks coffee again. Once this $15 gift card runs out, it won't be hard to skip the morning coffee. I think.
10 a.m. — Baby naps and I write. I’m so desperate to make sure I get work done on my project that I skip eating (even though I’m hungry).
11:30 a.m. — I eat a banana and remember that I haven’t had any water yet today. I decide to try and throw back 10 ounces in one go.
12 p.m. — I heat up a frozen pizza and split it with my husband, who has a quick break between classes. Baby wakes up and she gets pizza too, along with grapes. I wonder just how weird our eating habits are or if everyone is like us. I quickly blend a smoothie consisting of a banana, frozen berries, fresh spinach, and frozen peas. Baby and I each take a serving to go and I leave husband’s in the fridge for when he gets home.
1 p.m. — We pack up our heavy-duty stroller for a walk along Central Park down to the Museum of Natural History. She gets to go to one playground on the way there and one on the way home. We pay $1 for admission at the museum, which we go to once or twice a week. Thanks to the "pay-what-you-wish" policy for a few museums here in the city, we can afford to go to a few a week. This museum is, by far, our favorite, especially the Discovery Room, or as the staff calls it, "NYC’s best-kept secret for kids." While we’re out, baby has an apple, some grapes, and dried fruit chips left over from last week as her snack. I eat a small apple and drink my smoothie, taking in all the history. $1
5:40 p.m. — We’re home. The last playground finished me. Baby and I each have a cinnamon roll from yesterday. I have no idea what I want for dinner. I realized this morning that I’ve misplaced a small piece of jewelry that I love. I’m not a jewelry person and will go years without buying a single piece, but this is one item I wear frequently, so I place an order to Etsy which comes to $11.95 with shipping.
6:03 p.m. — I find out Brad and Angelina split. I can’t.
6:14 p.m. — Dinner dilemma solved. My husband brings home leftover food from an on-campus event. The baby and I eat potato wedges and some sort of falafel wrap. It’s delicious. We grieve over Brangelina.
Okay, it’s just me grieving.
7:08 p.m. — I finally use an old iTunes card to buy a Winnie the Pooh movie for our Apple TV. I still feel like $19.99 is a lot for a movie, but I like keeping things digital and our daughter adores the Pooh bear, so we thought this would be a fun treat for her. I wouldn’t have gone for the movie if it wasn’t free though.
10:08 p.m. — Ugh, snag an RSVP to a limited-space launch party for a new collection of shoes by a brand I adore. There’s going to be drinks and music in downtown Manhattan (as in, mommy is off-duty), but I don’t think it’s appropriate to go with no intention of buying a pair of shoes. Or worse, I’ll cave and end up putting $250 or more on a credit card, just to take home and hug some beautiful, BEAUTIFUL soft leather shoes. I’m pouting over my wine. I don’t know what I’ll do. My husband is happy for me to go downtown, but he just kind of stares at me when I explain the cost of the shoes and the social pressure to buy. His silent staring speaks volumes — no shoes.
10:10 p.m. — STILL DOWNING THE WINE (But really, is it "downing" if it’s just one glass?). At least I didn’t have to pay for that this week.
10:11 p.m. — My husband reads some of the funnier segments of his work and it cheers me up. He gets me. I somewhat happily clean till 11 p.m. and then go to bed.
Daily Total: $12.95
Day Three
7 a.m. — Usual breakfast for the baby. I actually get half a piece of toast down and pack a protein shake for our usual morning visit to our local playground. I really like the small group of parents and nannies that come here. Contrary to the stereotype, there’s no gossip or negativity. If a person talks about their spouse or partner or a nanny speaks about her employer, it’s all really positive, which is important to me.
10 a.m. — We stop in at the library to pick up our holds, which means more free books to read. Baby goes down for a nap and I see a book I pre-ordered a few weeks ago from Kindle has arrived. We try not to buy books, but this was written by a young woman who’s work I respect. By pre-ordering, I got a discount on a cheaper digital copy. I could have lived without it (or waited for the library to get it in), but I feel like it was a good purchase for me to make. Probably. Maybe.
11 a.m. — I try spicing up my coffee by using a few new tricks I read about in an article and I open a sleeve of organic pumpkin toaster pastries and make one for myself and my husband, who is back for a few minutes in-between classes. I hand him a pastry and he looks at me like I’m a domestic goddess and showers me with compliments. I do my yoga, reading, and writing for my site. I miss being part of a yoga studio and Google for free or donation yoga classes in my area, but become weary and just give up.
11:30 a.m. — In celebration of fending off my feral desire for new shoes, I decide to put my online browsing energy into planning a small capsule wardrobe instead — a 10-item remix (10 items for 10 days). Sometimes, "shopping" my own closet really does curb the desire to buy new pieces.
12 p.m. — Eat a quick lunch at home and go to Central Park Zoo. We hop on the subway and pay $2.75 — it's just out of walking distance for me. I took her to this zoo a few weeks ago and there was a survey on the receipt that offered one free ticket upon completion. This saves me $12. Our daughter is under 2 and free. $2.75
5:20 p.m. — Stop at Ladurée on Madison for some macarons. I always try to plan a few really interesting stops during the week and this is one of them. I get four macarons, three are split between me and the baby and I save one to give to my husband at home. $11.20
5:30 p.m. — I walk home and save money on a MetroCard, even though I would have enjoyed a ride back. I make us quick naan bread that we butter and top with nutritional yeast, then bake a frozen ham tart from last week’s grocery run for the baby and myself. I’m kind of shocked at how much baking we did last week; we ended up with more processed food this week than normal.
6 p.m. — We send a belated birthday check ($30) to a family member. $30
Daily Total: $43.29
Day Four
6 a.m. — Baby wakes up, she eats her normal breakfast. I see an email reminding me that a new collection has been released from my fave brand with — finally — a pair of sweat pants. I really, really want them, but they're a bit more expensive, almost $60. I know they’ll last forever (like everything else from this brand), but I know my husband might need a coat for a conference next week at Yale. He’s definitely more in need of some clothing, so I save this link to my Christmas wish list and feel pretty neutral — not happy or sad.
7 a.m. — Go into our local Starbucks and finish off the gift card. I also realize I've never tipped the servers, because I don't carry cash when I go to the playground.
10 a.m. — Baby is down for a nap and my husband has a full day of working from home. We split a toaster pastry and I start doing a major cleaning of the kitchen. I remember that I need to look for some loose cash and change to tip the servers at Starbucks. I find $3 (a 20% tip of the gift card amount) in pants pockets and the bottom of our backpacks.
11 a.m. — I can’t make myself care about cleaning. I try and I can’t. I sit down to do some reading for some nonfiction I’m working on. I brew coffee, eat a bowl of cereal, and feel the sweet freedom of not giving a fuck while sitting in my dirty, dirty kitchen.
3:30 p.m. — I give myself permission to have a slow day. I heat some veggie ravioli and play a series of Disney musical clips from YouTube for the baby while I read the news (but really, I just binge on articles from The Man Repeller).
4 p.m. — I banned myself from buying any new foundations, lipsticks, and eyeshadows 'til I finish the bulk of what I have, but I am running out of primers and highlighters. Find a "favorites" set at Sephora with travel versions of some of my fave products I no longer have. I justify the purchase because I would actually use every product there and the small size means I won’t have a bunch of big items that will go bad. I shop around and find out Sephora has a coupon code that offers three of my favorite Caudalie products if I spend $35, so I add in some hair ties to my basket and $30 goes to $35. I always need hair ties. They are also makeshift toddler toys for the desperate (as in, my toddler is screaming in the subway car and I have no toys on me). I think I’m satisfied with this purchase? Skin care is something we budget for and even though several of the products in the set aren’t skin care (a few highlighters and two skin products), I get free deluxe samples with my purchase that I love (and used to use when we had a salary). I’m pretty sure it will balance out, being something I can deduct from our skin-care budget. $35
5 p.m. — I take the baby to the park and drop off the tip to our local Starbucks. $3
8 p.m. — I talk to my husband about the beautiful leather shoes, and ask him what he thinks about them as an investment. He appears dumbfounded, but he’s fair and just asks, “Sure. But can you tell me why you need them?” I can’t. I don’t need them — I have several utilitarian sneakers, one pair of beautiful leather loafers that are my going-out shoes, and a really nice pair of warm winter boots. I’m actually really happy I talked to him. I probably should feel like a terrible person for even wanting those shoes when I have a small budget and a baby to take care of, but I know I’m human. I love beautiful things and sometimes things with a high price tag. Happy I didn’t buy them though.
9 p.m. — I’m feeling happy. I continue my self-prescribed "day off" from writing and working on the site. I reheat leftover naan and top with butter and nutritional yeast and settle in to read and watch movies on Netflix that are disappearing next month. I refill another half-glass of wine and end up writing because I’m in the mood, even though this is supposed to be a day off.
Daily Total: $38
Day Five
6:30 a.m. — The baby wakes up and has breakfast. I cut up some pineapple and snack along with her. We go to the library around 7 a.m. and have fun with other kids and parents.
10 a.m. — I take baby to two different academic libraries on campus to pick up some books I’m reading for my writing. I forgot to pack a "quiet baby snack" (a snack that doesn’t crumble, get sticky or messy, and takes her a while to eat, so she’ll stay quiet) and I’m personally tired, so I stop at Starbucks to finish off my gift card and end up paying an additional $3 for a plain toasted bagel. $3
11 a.m. — Our monthly order of mac and cheese from Amazon arrives. I eat an entire box. I get online to check out Thomas the Tank Engine toy sets for my daughter on the passionate recommendation of another mom who said it really got her daughter excited about books because of the Thomas series. I’m pretty excited, because I definitely need a gateway book to get my daughter hooked — she’s shown little interest in books. I check prices for sets and books on Amazon, but decide it’s too much as just a weekly purchase and wait for her birthday in a few months. (We just spent $30 on educational toys last week.) I google other ideas and like some finger-puppet tutorials. I end up getting ordering a 42-piece set for $11. I really hope I can use this craft to make her puppets of her storybook characters and try another way to get her into books. $11
2 to 5 p.m. — We walk through Harlem and end up at one of the playgrounds in Central Park. Nice day, but I wish we had packed food and water.
6 p.m. — We eat two packages of pasta split between the three of us with cherry tomatoes tossed in olive oil, salt, and nutritional yeast. Yum.
8 p.m. — My husband and I watch another female stand-up special on Netflix. I have half a glass of wine and now I'm dreaming about Kit Kats. I don't want to run to our corner market because of the prices (is $1.25 for a small Kit Kat normal?), so I google "fast chocolate desserts." I hate cooking, so I'm trying to find something easy. My husband suggest I run to the Hungarian Pastry shop, which is amazing, but we have no cash on hand.
9 p.m. — I'm too tired to cook ANYTHING, much less clean up afterwards. I run to the store to buy a few different candy items for my husband and me. This comes to $5.60. I wish I had just walked to get cash and gone to the pastry shop. Those desserts are unreal. $5.60
10 p.m. — I totally pamper myself at home. Exfoliation, face mask, serum, nighttime yoga. I drink a huge container of water. So relaxing.
Daily Total: $19.60
Day Six
8:40 a.m. — I sleep in for the first time in about 16 days since my husband offers to wake up at 6 with the baby. I get ready to do research at one of the campus libraries while my husband watches the baby. I brew coffee at home to take with me and skip breakfast — I muse about how much I used to eat out before the baby. I decide that although I miss spontaneous purchases, I'm a lot healthier now and spend a lot less money. A fair trade. Most of the time. Sometimes.
11 a.m. — I come home and eat a bowl of cereal and hang out with my husband. We chat, watch TV, and talk about an interview he has today. I buy something called Baby Foot after inspecting my feet and realizing they need a major overhaul. $15 is a shocking amount for me to spend on a one-use body product, but the reviews are good and I don't see how I can get all this dead skin off without going for a pedicure, which would cost a lot more than $15 in our area. My husband loves my feet, so I need to do something. The last month has been brutal on them and I hate the feeling of calluses and dry skin. $15
12 p.m. — The baby naps, so my husband and I dance in our underwear to a Lady Gaga playlist. I love it when my husband has a break from all his work.
2 p.m. — We all go on a walk to Riverside Park and enjoy the playground. We stop at Koronet Pizza, where you can get these huge, jumbo-sized slices and we order two plain slices to take home. It's $10, including a tip I leave. We do this almost every week. $10
5 p.m. — We get the biggest box I've ever seen from Amazon. It's filled with our "subscribe and save" items, which includes 152 diapers, three massive bags of wipes, and 28 rolls of paper towels. We’ve talked about using hand towels to clean, but the cost of laundry is crazy here and I'd want to wash a load each week separate from our clothes, which would mean we would pay $12 a month. That's at least three times as much as the cost of paper towels, so we just buy the paper towels in bulk twice a year. We paid for the paper towels a week ago, but they did arrive today, so I'll list it — $23.52.
8 p.m. — I realize I need to bake something for lunch with a neighbor who invited me over. I run to the store and buy three packets of yeast and three bananas — $3.53. I bake a loaf of vegan and gluten-free pumpkin bread, vegan cinnamon rolls, and make some homemade lemonade. I buy lemons every week, but I didn’t add any to my water and I didn’t do any sugar waxing on myself, so lemonade is a good way to use them all up — and bonus, my husband loves when that happens. He drinks lemonade and I drink wine and we watch TV together. $3.53.
9 p.m. — Browsing silk shirts I can't afford from my favorite brand. I'm not tempted to buy, because it's something I definitely don't need, just want. It's nice to look, though.
Daily Total: $52.05
Day Seven
6 a.m. — I try to feed the baby breakfast, but she’s fussy and uncooperative. Her food ends up thrown against the wall, stomped on, shoved down the neck of my shirt — everywhere except her mouth. She’s a few degrees warmer than usual, so I give her a half-dose of infant Tylenol and try to cuddle her and watch some musical clips. I make two pots of coffee and brace myself. We skip going to Absolute Bagels, part of our brunch routine. I’m devastated.
10 a.m. — We head out to go meet another family for a kids event in our area. There are fewer kids my daughter’s age than I expected. My daughter is super-sweet to all the little babies, so that was fun to watch.
12 to 2 p.m. — I take the bread I baked and have lunch with one of our neighbors, a graduate student, who I love. We eat the lunch she made at her apartment while my husband has the napping baby over in ours.
5 p.m. — I cook ground beef and onions for the baby and me while my husband has another interview. With my daughter not feeling well, we just decide to chill at home and clean and watch a movie. A super-uneventful night.
10 p.m. — My husband and I read and chat and prepare for the next week. That means cleaning, sorting, comparing schedules, etc. We end up in bed pretty early.
Daily Total: $0
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