Thursday, I stopped by the courthouse on my way to work and finalized my divorce. The whole process was, despite the mountains of paperwork, surprisingly brisk. About four months from first serious discussion to finalization, and the hearing lasted all of twenty minutes. The judge commended us on our “professionalism” and the care with which we had filled out our forms, gave us some orders he had typed out based on them, and sent us on our way. I was at my post at the library when the doors opened for the day.

Now, that doesn’t mean that we have finished tying up our loose ends–far from it. Now that the XFP and I are officially separate legal entities, I thought it would be a good time to take stock of where I am financially–and some remaining pitfalls.

The house

Frankly, disaster looms on this front. We had a contract. Buyers backed out fairly quickly–changed their minds about the neighborhood. Got another contract, cash from an investor, almost immediately, with a 21-day close. I moved out and signed a lease on an apartment. Then the investor changed his mind, too. (We got to keep $500 of the earnest money that time, which is better than a nail in the foot.)

We have both signed leases and have rent to pay, so now it’s a race to see if we can find another buyer before we default on our mortgage. Fingers crossed. We are getting a lot of showings and a fair bit of interest and we still have room to drop the price, so I am optimistic about our chances. Our arrangement calls for me to receive the first two thousand dollars of proceeds with the rest being split, so hopefully I’ll get a little money out of it.

Exchange of retirement accounts

We accidentally made a settlement that we can’t implement yet. The XFP agreed to transfer some of his 403(b) to me. However, he had borrowed against it, and so his bank will not divide it. I will need to monitor the XFP’s progress toward the loan; since all indications so far are that he is acting in good faith, I’m willing to be a little patient. (The plan is to pay it off with the proceeds from the house, assuming there are any.)

My car

This is a big question mark. Can the almost 18-year-old Auto Paragon last a few more years if I sink some money in it? Is it reliable enough transportation for a single mom? It seems to be making a peculiar noise and the transmission could be going bad. I will bring it to Dave the Acerbic Mechanic for his assessment. If his opinion is unfavorable and the proceeds from the house are adequate, I might consider replacing it. (I am imagining something similar to the XFP’s 2008 Fit.) If he thinks a moderate cash infusion could keep me driving in reasonable safety (if not, by any stretch of the imagination, in style) for a bit, then I’ll have it fixed up.

My apartment

Currently, it has bits of tape and cardboard and scraps of packing paper all over the floor, the ottoman is blocking the patio doors, my dresser is wedged unsatisfactorily into the children’s closet, and my daybed/the couch (thanks again, Grandma FP) is covered by a mismatched full-size quilt that I’ve owned for twenty years.

I’m working on it.

I’m also working (in the form of trying to save money and increase my earning power) on getting us a place to live, in the future, where I don’t have to sleep in the living room or go outside to do laundry.

My savings

Well, it could be worse. I have $600 in my HSA that I could access at any time (by submitting the receipts I have saved). My intention is to build this up as an investment instead, but it provides a little extra security.

According to YNAB, I hang on to each dollar for an average of 36 days before spending it, so I am not living on credit card float–pre-YNAB, I’m not sure I could say that. I have seven hundred dollars earmarked for paying the lawyer who helped me with my divorce paperwork and I may be able to add a little more at the end of the month. For good measure, the Frugal Patriarch* is, I hear, sending me a check to help jump-start my new life, and that will provide an extra cushion.

I also have nearly twenty thousand dollars in personal retirement savings, not counting the share I hope to receive from the XFP. It’s not much, but it’s more than nothing.


Lots of balls in the air. Lots of question marks. But I have a lease on an affordable apartment, a car that runs, and enough money to cover a couple of minor emergencies. That’s a start.

*AKA my grandfather. Yes, he refers to himself as the patriarch, and I am sorry if you do not personally know him, because he is a millionaire next door and master storyteller and just simply a great person to sit around with drinking wine and shooting the breeze.


Where do you stand this month? What are your looming question marks?

I Was a Little Impulsive in September: Spending Report

When I was a teenager, my older sister would sometimes ask me to do something with her–go to the mall, say–when no more-interesting company was available. “I have to do homework,” I would say. Somehow, twenty minutes later, I was always in the car going to the mall.

This story is by way of explaining why I had over $500 in travel expenses this month. I impulsively flew home to spend the weekend with my sister and middle nephew, surprise my mom (successfully!), and attend Sis’s 40th birthday party. It was a tad irresponsible, but, to quote Arlo Guthrie, “You can’t always do what you’re s’posed to do.”


Child support: $350

Spousal support: $383

Take-Home Wages: $1383.63

Dependent Care FSA reimbursement: $138

Selling stuff: $40

Kid reimbursements from the XFP: $116

Total Income: $2272.63

Internet: $82.01

Electric: $59.28

Water: $32.47

Ting: $29.46

My half of mortgage: $837.67

Total housing and utilities: $1040.89


ATM fees (reimbursable) and divorce-related miscellany: $15.20

Bike maintenance: $82.31 (ouch!)

Apartment application fee: $50

Groceries: $273

Wine:  $10.78

At-Home Food: $283.78

Gas: $38.59

Parking and transit: $29.50 (lots of extra bus tickets)

Total transportation: $68.09

Used bike for Little Brother: $50

Kid clothes and shoes: $74.51 (uniform pants, winter PJs and Halloween costumes)

Before- and after-school care: $73

The XFP’s share of things: $134 (some I have already gotten, some I will get on 10/20)

Doctor visit for LB: $98.36

Total kid spending: $429.87

Adult health (asthma meds): $165.88

Restaurants: $18.22

Coffee shops and snacks: $33.79

Snacks at otherwise free Corn Maze: $12

Total entertainment: $64.01 (having the house on the market is still keeping this category high)

Haircut for me: $53

Clothes for me: $35.74

Misc. shopping: $8.99 (car charger for cell phone)

Total “me” spending: $96.78

Travel: $526.41

Grand total spending: $2823.22


So, first I need to confess that I am confused about how much my shortfall is. YNAB calculates things a little differently because of the way money actually changes hands. See, I didn’t receive a check or spousal support or write one for the mortgage–the XFP and I just added up everything we owe each other and I wrote him a check for a couple hundred dollars, then I tried to reverse-engineer everything on here. YNAB shows a shortfall of more like two hundred dollars, as opposed to the over five hundred shown here. Hopefully this is something that will become more clear to me as I get the hang of how my monthly finances work.

Obviously, I can’t overspend myself every month. I had to shift around money that was earmarked for other things (eg, paying my lawyer), so refilling those stashes will be a priority next month. My before- and after-care charges reflect an increase in my hours that hasn’t shown up in my income yet, so that’s a factor as well–things should look better next month.

Considering the medical expenses and the amount of fun I had on the trip, I’m pretty satisfied with the month.

How was your September?





Poverty as a Life Phase

The XFP (as I have renamed him) and I, with our children, made up a basically middle-class household of four. We certainly had to watch where our money was going, but we could generally cover our own expenses. On the sliding scale that Denver Public Schools uses for preschool and kindergarten tuition, we were the third step down from the top (monthly income $5,964 to $6,758 for a full-day preschool tuition charge of $390).

Well, things have changed for me. As the head of a three-person household, I am objectively fairly poor (strictly as a measure of income). Remember that sliding scale? Well, we have slid right off the bottom of it. No tuition, no registration fee, no bills of any kind. Poor enough to get reduced-price lunch at school, not poor enough for food stamps. I will probably rent a one-bedroom apartment, because that’s what I can comfortably afford; the boys can have the bedroom and I will be sleeping in the living room.

I grew up in a comfortably middle-class suburban family, but I can remember my father waxing nostalgic about the efficiency apartment he and my mother used to cram into when they were teenagers, how they used to have lawn chairs for furniture. Looking back, this is one of the best things I learned from my parents: that being broke is a life stage to be passed through.

Now, maybe I already went through my broke-young-person phase once, but I’m not afraid to go back. Being willing to accept this phase in my life makes it much easier to cope. Easier to accept help. Easier to stop buying things when I run out of money. If I didn’t accept that this was just a temporary phase that I need to live in right now, I might want to pretend that nothing had changed, that I didn’t really need to adjust my budget or let people help me, and the short- and long-term result would be financial misery.

The interesting thing is how non-terrible this phase is so far. I have enough money for a nice and safe, if small, apartment; healthy food; and occasional treats. I will be honest: When my marriage was failing, I was frightened of this outcome–having to sell my house, sleep in the living room and sign up my kids for reduced lunch. Now that it’s here, eh, it’s not so bad. 

I’ve lived a life of pretty exceptional privilege so far and am fortunate enough that I have had the chance to develop the skills and resources I’ll need to work my way up financially. Soon enough I’ll get more work hours, maybe a better job. I’ll get my feet under myself. And some day when my boys are much bigger, we’ll talk about that apartment we used to live in, where we used to curl up on Mommy’s bed in the living room to watch a movie.

Were there times in your life when you were “poor”? How do you look back on them?

No Domestic Backup

I have never lived on my own. Mr. FP and I went directly from the sophomore dorm to our first apartment, the summer we were all of 19 years old. As I recall, we had camping chairs for furniture and a National Geographic map thumb-tacked to our living room wall for decoration.

At first, giddy teenagers in love, we did all the things together. Grocery shopping. Laundry. As the years went on and our domestic responsibilities increased and increased some more, we began to specialize. Laundry was all me. During times we had a yard, that was all him. He set up all the utilities, I arranged all the repairmen.

Well, he doesn’t live here anymore, and I’ve had to learn some new skills. Here’s how it’s shaking out.

Cutting the cat’s claws

Kitty Paragon in repose.

Kitty Paragon in repose.

Difficulty: Low

Time involved: 5 minutes

Potential for mishap: Medium

Result: Satisfactory

I seem to have been left with Kitty Paragon. She is a nice cat and a devoted user of her scratching post, but nail-trimming was never my job. She cooperated reasonably well and only ran away once. However, when I first went to do the task earlier in the day, I couldn’t find her. Still don’t know where she was (she is strictly an indoor feline). I just waited until she turned up, after the tots were in bed.

Plunging the toilet

Difficulty: Medium

Time involved: 5 minutes

Potential for mishap: High

Result: Satisfactory

I had perhaps trimmed the cat three or four times in the years she has lived with us. Plunging a toilet, never. I am not proud of this, but the one time I attempted it, I became so distressed that I, umm, cried until Mr. FP came and did it. (Let the record show that I do not, EVER, personally clog toilets, but small children are luxuriantly profligate with toilet paper.)

Well, I’m not exactly sure what I did. I wrapped a towel around my person for protection, plunged ineffectually a few times, and eventually it seemed to get better even though I’m pretty sure I wasn’t doing it right.

Using the trimmer

Resplendent weeds. Sorry I do not have a picture of it freshly trimmed. I am procrastinating.

Resplendent weeds. Sorry I do not have a picture of it freshly trimmed. I am procrastinating.

Difficulty: High

Time involved: 3o  minutes

Potential for mishap: Very high

Result: Unsatisfactory

The actual lawnmower I don’t mind. Our yard is small and mostly dead and we have one of those manual push mowers, so there was no gasoline involved. But I made a hash of the trimming. I invariably either exposed bare dirt or failed to actually trim anything. Mr. FP’s instructions consisted solely of “cut the grass, not yourself” and the few YouTube videos I watched were not very illuminating.


Goodwill vacuum now working.

Goodwill vacuum now working.

Difficulty: Low

Time involved: 3o  minutes

Potential for mishap: Low

Result: Acceptable

Our marital vacuum was a Hoover Runabout that we had owned since 1999 and had never even needed to replace a belt. They don’t make Runabouts any more. I was sad, but it seemed fair for Mr. FP to have it since in our sixteen years of cohabitation, I vacuumed perhaps eight and a half times. I went to Goodwill and researched the models on offer there. For ten dollars, I bought a well-reviewed one that was, at that particular moment, running but not actually sucking anything.

It just needed a new belt (which was entirely missing) and filters. I wonder how many vacuums wind up at Goodwill just for lack of routine maintenance? At any rate, I got it working with a little help from Amazon Prime, but vacuuming does not come naturally to me. I can never figure out what places I’ve already vacuumed and I run into things and get the cord stuck and just generally flail around ineffectually. The carpets looked like they had been vacuumed, however ineptly, and I suppose I will improve with practice.

Well, so far, so good for the most part. I have not had to outsource any tasks that Mr. FP customarily performed, and I feel like a more completely rounded adult human. I can do All The Things. (Incidentally, I’m sure Mr. FP is having many of the same experiences but with different tasks. The children always seem to be wearing freshly laundered clothes, for instance.) In the future, should I be in a relationship again, I won’t have to do All The Things, but it will be nice to know that I have the capabilities.

What tasks have you taken on? How did it go?

First Month of Solo Spending

I haven’t always posted my monthly spending on my blog, for this reason: I have often been embarrassed by it. I mean, for heaven’s sake, I’m a frugality blogger. How could I come on here and admit that we overspent our income for the month… again? I won’t bore you with the details, but the financial dynamic in my marriage was unproductive, and that’s not something I was comfortable exposing to the interwebs.

But… it’s all me now! I did a “fresh start” budget in YNAB, started a new YMOYL “wall chart” (actually a line graph in a Google Sheet), and here you have it, my unadulterated income and spending for August.


Net Earnings: $1012.79

Selling stuff on Craigslist: $50

Child Support: $350

Spousal Support: $383

Reimbursement: $210 (from Mr. FP for boys’ July health insurance)

Total Income: $2005.79


Housing: $697.50

Internet: $68.33

Electric: $53.19

Water: $25

Total housing/utilities: $844 (This is my share–Mr. FP covered the parts of these billing cycles that dated to before his move-out.)

Home supplies: $83.55 (flannel sheets, Goodwill vacuum, parts to fix vacuum)

Groceries: $192.79

School lunches: $41.83 (This is 2-3 months of lunches as the boys are now on reduced-price lunch at $.40 per meal)

Wine: $10.78

Total home/school food: $245.40

Gas: $44.81

Parking and bus fare: $12.55

Total transportation: $57.36

Bike supplies and maintenance: $59.95 (this is a floor pump, Mr. FP having taken his, and new brakes for my bike–parts only, labor to follow in September)

Boys’ allowance spending: $6.78

Clothes and shoes: $49 (new uniforms)

School supplies and swim lessons: $63.87

Total kid spending: $119.67 (Again, this is my share–Mr. FP reimbursed me an approximately equal amount as I had done all the back-to-school shopping.)

Adult health: $8.70

Restaurants: $22.79

Coffee shops and snacks: $40.07 (Higher than usual because of house being on the market and me having to leave at weird times)

“Out” entertainment: $22.60

Total Entertainment: $86.46

Frippery: $68.73

Adult clothing (Thinx): $60

Gifts: $5

Can’t remember what I bought at Target: $20.42

Total Shopping: $154.15

Travel: $76.38 (My budget for family vacation was $100. That’s almost exactly what I spent–I paid for my own Uber, slipped my niece a twenty for babysitting, and bought some booze, but then my aunt insisted I take a twenty when I got on the airplane. Thanks, Aunt B! Giant thanks to Great-Grandfather FP for the funding and Grandma FP for the planning.)

Cat food: $24.75



First of all, I think that a 12% savings rate on such a low net income is nothing to sneeze at. And I participate in a mandatory defined contribution pension plan at 8%, so my actual savings rate is higher.

That said, I’ll need to be putting away more than a couple hundred dollars a month if I’m ever going to pay off my lawyer, rent an apartment and rebuild my life. So I’ll obviously be working to reduce the categories of Coffee Shops, Frippery, Adult Clothes, and Bike Supplies and Maintenance. All of those categories had non-typical charges in them.

And I’ll need to make more money. I am in the process of signing up to substitute teach and have been picking up on-call library shifts. After-school child care remains a big hurdle–more on that later.

How was your August spending?


Waiting It Out

There’s always something to wait for, isn’t there? Wanting to meet someone and get married, saving to buy a house, trying to have a baby, waiting to hear about a job, trying to lose weight. Right now, I’m waiting for our marital home to sell so I can rent an apartment and move on, an especially frustrating time because it is taking much longer than we had originally hoped. (Also true of the making of Big Brother, an 18-month waiting game involving charts and Robitussin. Don’t ask.)

The hard part about waiting is to live fully and not, well, “wait” for everything to change. Here’s how I’ve learned how to keep going while waiting for a big change:

Focus on the “cans”
I try to think about what I can do, rather than what I can’t. No, I can’t apply for an apartment until my house sells, and cooking is complicated because I have to keep the house so squeaky-clean, and I don’t want to start a sewing project for the same reason. But I CAN work on things I may not have as much time for once I start moving:
-make some extra money writing trivia questions
-work on my Spanish
-update my blog (hi!)
-take my kids on free outings
-read more

I’ve also been doing some unproductive things, too. Like binge-watching the BBC Sherlock now that I have control of the remote for the first time in my adult life. It’s like I didn’t know how to watch television by myself.

Stash money
Whatever change you’re waiting for, it will probably go better with some extra money, am I right? The delay in selling the house has let my paychecks accumulate a little before I need to put a deposit down on an apartment.

Prepare without obsessing
Poring over apartment listings would not be a good use of my time right now. There are a few little tasks I can get out of the way, though, like packing up my books and getting my finances in order.

(The not obsessing part is especially important when you’re trying to get pregnant.)

Get other tasks out of the way
So… I should really be making some headway on my divorce paperwork. So much paperwork. And it’s so bloody complicated. Also, technically we’re behind on it and might get forced into totally unnecessary mediation.

Don’t complain
There are things that suck about being stuck in an on-the-market house, especially with young kids. I haven’t always been successful in resisting the urge, but I’m trying really hard not to gripe about it. It won’t help and will just make me feel worse. I was deeply influenced by The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People and Complaint-free World, both of which make this point.

What it all amounts to is spending my energy on what I can do now to either enjoy my life right now, or improve my life to come. And no matter what you’re waiting for, there are undoubtedly lots and lots of things in those categories.

How do you handle waiting?


This post contains Amazon affiliate links, which support this blog at no extra cost to you. I bought the things with my own money and all opinions are my own.

Well, I always said I had too much stuff. Now that Mr. FP has moved out into his own apartment, I have half as much stuff. It has been an unusual and fascinating opportunity to reconsider my relationship with my possessions.

Sometimes, it’s been an opportunity for me to no longer own something I didn’t like that much to begin with. (I have nothing against the Kennedy brothers, but that giant poster of them got old after the first couple of years.)

No more pepper leakage.

Sometimes, it makes an excuse to buy something nicer for myself and take pleasure in its functionality. Goodbye, yucky old cheese grater. (It was a box style with no rubber on the bottom, so very hard on my cutting boards.) Farewell, pepper grinder. I ordered highly-rated replacements, which are great. This OXO Good Grips pepper mill has a clear door so I can tell if I need to refill it AND a cap on the bottom, so it doesn’t get pepper all over the cabinet. Fantastic! And the also-OXO Good Grips folding cheese grater stands up like a box grater but folds up for easier storage AND takes up less space in the dishwasher. Brilliant!

The two halves come apart, so you can wash just the part you used.

Sometimes, it means re-evaluating what something is worth. There was only one Vitamix. He took it. (I got other stuff.) Should we ever have bought a three hundred dollar blender? Will I save up for another one? Well, probably not, but let’s say TBD. In the meantime, since I have ten pounds of frozen fruit in the freezer, I am making sorbet in the food processor instead of smoothies in the blender I no longer own.

Sometimes, it means losing something I liked and can’t replace. Two of the four creepy New Orleans coasters my aunt gave us, for instance, and the framed still life of the wine bottle that looked nice with the wine-themed curtain we got at Goodwill (which I still have). Yes, they are Just Things, but I feel a sense of loss.


I still have enough coasters to terrify myself and one select guest.


Not actually a red Swingline as in Office Space, but a maroon one at least.

Conversely, a strange feeling of victory attaches itself to the few favorite things I kept, even though I do not consider myself an acquisitive person. The nice heavy can opener, the new vegetable peeler, the Crock Pot. Mine! And I had that stapler before we were married! Mine, I tell you!

And then there is a poignancy to this process with its empty spaces and its absurdities. I now have a hammer but no nails, and he has nails but no hammer. He has an almost-empty toolbox. I have a Whole Foods bag full of the wrenches and screwdrivers that I owned before we were married.


Possibly not an ideal long-term tool storage solution.

It both is and is not a question of “just things.” It’s the dismantling of a shared life, represented in the things we used to share but will no longer be sharing.

Keep some, give some away. Do without some, replace some. Rebuild.

Well, This Will Be Different

Many of you either know me in real life or follow me in the Mr. Money Mustache forums, so you already know my sad news. For those just joining in: After 15 years of marriage (that’s ages 20–yes, 20–to 35), Mr. FP and I are divorcing.

It’s amicable and mostly mutual and sad and painful.

The effect on my self-concept has been swift and startling. Among my many roles–mother, professional librarian, daughter, middle sibling–was that of Respectable Wife. And I tried to be a good wife. I worked part-time and made a home. I washed my husband’s clothes and ironed his favorite shirts. I reduced the amount of onion called for in recipes by at least half, maybe two-thirds, and what onion I did include was food-processed almost to the point of puree, because that’s how he tolerates onion. I have a killer recipe for cornbread. I brought home Cadbury mini-eggs from the store every spring the very first day I saw them for sale.

If there were some sort of spouse achievement scale, I would score average to above average for sure. But none of those things made me the right wife for the man I was actually married to.

So I’ll need to cross Respectable Wife off my mental list of Roles I Play. Now, all my other roles also involve relating to and doing things for other people, so I guess I’ll take some of the time and intellectual energy I was devoting to fulfilling my role as Respectable Wife and spend it on being Myself more fully.

Aside from using larger chunks of onion, I’m not entirely sure what that means after all these years, but I’ll be interested to find out as the dust settles.

We are selling the house and I’ll be living, at least temporarily, in something like a one-bedroom apartment, and the boys will be living with me about half the time. That should add up to much less cooking, cleaning, laundry, and general homemaking, so my use of time will be quite different.

Solo adulting and single parenting will present all kinds of exciting new frugality possibilities and budgetary challenges, so I hope you’ll stay tuned.

I Made Another Skirt!

This post contains affiliate links for research purposes. I got both books from my public library.

Results are in for my second effort at sewing a skirt. Two highlights:

  1. I had dropped one size.
  2. I got the zipper in on the first try (see “Caught in the Zipper” for my previous travails).

I did have some snafus. When I sewed the pleats, the skirt came out a little smaller than it was supposed to. I overcompensated when I made the lining, so it was too small and had to be altered. Twice. Grandma FP said I should sew a new one from new fabric but I was too lazy to face a new set of darts, so I just sewed a strip of fabric into the side. (And then a large strip when the first one wasn’t big enough.) Probably not the approved method, but hey, it’s a skirt. The zipper space in the lining, for some reason, is not as long as the actual zipper, but I can get it on and off, so who cares?


You can see the white fabric sticking up way past the end of the zipper. Oh, well.

Also, the darts don’t quite match up between the skirt and the lining. Well, one of them does, and the other looks like this:


I used the “contrast pleat” pattern from the same book I used last time, The Essential A-line. I consulted a second book, Skirt-a-Day Sewing, but it seemed too complex for my current skills. Their designs feature waistbands and interfacing rather than full lining, and the suggested sewing kit is much larger. (I can’t imagine that I will ever invest in a “tailor’s ham,” for instance. It is a ham-shaped hard pillow thing used for ironing darts, apparently.)

I think next time, I will stay away from pleats altogether and try something a little simpler. I really want a black skirt and have not found a satisfactory one in stores. Note to retailers: Not everyone likes pencil skirts. Some of us look pregnant in them.

Cost for materials was under $20. I did not buy any new gadgets! I was really, really tempted to buy a real metal invisible zipper foot, but I resisted the urge and I actually found that my cheapo plastic one worked much better this time under my more-experienced hand. It did not fall apart even once! I bought new polka dot and lining fabric and used up some of the leftover houndstooth from my first skirt.

Here are some pics of the finished skirt. I’m a librarian, so I can do stuff like go to work wearing a homemade polka-dot-and-houndstooth skirt and low-top Chuck Taylors (not shown).

What are you making lately, or what new skills have you learned?


Selfie. Arms not long enough to show whole skirt, but this one shows the color the best. The houndstooth is not really that crooked.


Big Brother needs to work on his photograph skills.


How to Adult: Book Roundup

Last month, after two and a half years in operation, my blog finally crossed the advertising payment threshold and I received a payment of $11.47 from Amazon. Partly in honor of this momentous occasion, here’s a book roundup. Amazon links are affiliate, of course, but your library probably has these excellent books. In fact, I only own one of them; it was given to me secondhand as a gift.

I spent most of my twenties feeling like a fake adult. In retrospect, it’s not surprising–I was working in a job (teaching) for which I was both unqualified and temperamentally unsuited, with mostly older coworkers.

This year, I am thirty-five. That’s the age my mother was when I was eight years old; it’s about the age my beloved Girl Scout leader was when I joined her troop in 1990. They seemed like real adults, and I’ve finally decided that I am, too! A flawed adult who knows more than average about some things and less than average about others, but not qualitatively different from other adults. In short, I have grown enough confidence to at least fake adulting. And here are some of the books that have helped me on my way.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change by Stephen Covey

I was assigned this classic for my library school class on management. Yes, it is a little corny in places and will seem even more so if you are not a Christian (though this comprises only a tiny part of the book). But it helped me stop whining and instead think about what I was actually trying to accomplish and how to do it, as well as how to listen first before you talk.

Siblings Without Rivalry: How to Help Your Children Live Together So You Can Live Too by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlich

There’s a key lesson here that anyone can benefit from: You will never convince anyone of anything by telling them that their feelings are wrong. That way madness lies.

Lessons from Madame Chic: 20 Stylish Secrets I Learned While Living in Paris by Jennifer L. Scott

This is a funny one to be on the list, perhaps, but I find myself thinking of it often. Part of a way of Francophile books, the premise here is a woman looking back fondly on her time spent as an exchange student in France, when her host mother was the lovely “Madame Chic.” I am not as elegant as the author, let alone Madame Chic, and never will be. But thinking of the always put-together Frenchwoman sometimes makes me put on my damned earrings before I leave the house, and has also inspired to overshare less (as one of Madame Chic’s lessons is to be a little mysterious) and apologize for myself less.

The Hands-On Home: A Seasonal Guide to Cooking, Preserving & Natural Homekeeping by Erica Strauss

Another one that I think of often. (I have even sent my personal thanks to the author, who used to hang around the Mr. Money Mustache forums as something like Erica @ NW Edible.) When I read the author’s admonition to think of your evening chores as a gift to your tomorrow self, I’ll be honest: I thought it was corny. It is not corny. It is powerful. When I put the kids to bed and then have to go back in the damned kitchen to do the dishes, thinking about my husband and children wasn’t helping. What did help was thinking about how I would feel in the morning. Some nights I work late or am unusually tired, and then I think, “My tomorrow self will have to fend for herself.” More often, I stick it out the extra seven minutes or whatever to finish properly and wipe the counters with my lovely-smelling, attractively green peppermint counter spray (recipe from the book) and then I feel great.

There is, of course, a fantastic wealth of other information in this book, from advice about tidying to canning recipes to directions for airing out your mattress, and it would be an excellent addition to any home library.

What books helped you find your adulting mojo? I’m not the only one who has felt like an imposter, right?