{"id":541,"date":"2026-08-07T07:48:09","date_gmt":"2026-08-07T11:48:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/?p=541"},"modified":"2026-08-04T07:59:44","modified_gmt":"2026-08-04T11:59:44","slug":"what-the-spreadsheet-couldnt-count","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/?p=541","title":{"rendered":"What the Spreadsheet Couldn’t Count"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

It’s raining today, and there are plenty of things I should probably be doing. Instead, I’m sitting here building a financial-readiness spreadsheet while Evelyn watches A Bug’s Life<\/em> in the living room. Nothing ties my chest up quite like money talks, so naturally I decided the best way to spend a rainy afternoon was by giving every dollar we’ve earned and spent over the last year its own little box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last week, I wrote about accepting the pause. I thought the difficult part would be allowing myself not to fill every available hour with work. What I didn’t consider was how loud a pause can get once the things I’d been avoiding finally have room to speak. This week, apparently, they wanted to talk about money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Seeing the numbers felt like failure. I had been doing well without our finances becoming a thing. When extra money came in, we were even in a position to pay ahead. Then our spending changed, slowly enough that it didn’t feel alarming until I put everything in one place. Now my brain wants to review it over and over, looking for the exact moment I failed, as though one highlighted cell is going to confess and let me off the hook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The truth is, we lived within our means for almost four years, and recently we haven’t. That’s humbling to admit. It also wakes up every part of me that believes the answer is to move faster. Make another spreadsheet. Find another income stream. Clean the garage gym. Start a new routine on Monday. Finally put a puzzle on the table so I have something to reach for instead of another screen. No one is more productive than a parent in last night’s pajamas, especially when she’s trying not to feel anxious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some of that movement is necessary. We do need to make changes, and I do want to create more financial stability in a world that feels anything but stable. The problem is telling the difference between work that moves us forward and busy work that keeps me from sitting with discomfort. My nervous energy is very good at making both look equally urgent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even The Unguided Woman has become tangled up in that feeling. The views keep going up, but the purchases aren’t following them. I put a lot of myself into that guide. It holds raw pieces of my life and the kind of realizations I hoped would give someone else the same aha feeling they gave me. I have thoughtful feedback from people who love me but don’t hold back criticism, so I believe in what I made. Still, it’s hard not to translate slow sales into a question about whether the work has value. I had also hoped it might be shared and promoted on a larger scale, the way I try to support other people’s work. Maybe the next step is finding someone who wants to build that kind of mutual support with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For our family, tightening the reins doesn’t mean we’re in danger. It means we stop spending before we save. It means making more deliberate choices and helping the girls understand where all of our doing comes from. Sometimes they are so accustomed to the trip, the activity, or the yes that they don’t have to think about what made it possible. Maybe learning to ask that question isn’t something we’re taking from them. Maybe it’s something useful we’re finally giving them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That doesn’t mean it feels easy. Nick and I both want the girls to experience more than this local area. We grew up as Army brats, so we understand the restlessness that comes with wanting to see what exists beyond home base. I worry that less money will make their world smaller. In the same breath, I can see how always looking somewhere else can make us miss what’s right here. There is something to be said for becoming a tourist in your own area and noticing the places you’ve been driving past while planning the next trip away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The deeper fear is that we created a standard we may not always be able to maintain. Have we overpromised only to underdeliver? If you know anything about an Aquarius, you know we don’t like that dynamic at all. I have always kept my promises to my kids. Telling them “not right now” can feel like breaking one, even when I know that protecting our stability is part of keeping a much bigger promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But there are things the spreadsheet can’t count. The last four years gave me Breanna’s senior year of high school. They allowed me to attend school functions and sports without negotiating a work schedule. I could be sick when I was sick without asking permission or checking whether I had enough time available. I could be in my home with my daughters without treating that time like another item on a list to check off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This year, I have a new preschooler and two seniors. Those are major milestones for them, but they feel like achievements for me too. I helped carry them here, and I want to be present for this year without spending every important moment worrying that I should be earning money somewhere else. One month from now, Evelyn will start school and our mornings will look completely different. I want to prepare for that change, but I also want to choose the now while it’s still here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nick gives me the space to do that. He continually thanks me for everything I do at home that allows him to focus on work and school. The irony is that we both carry guilt that the other person isn’t getting enough time to fill an individual bucket. We are so busy making sure the other person has enough that neither of us is entirely comfortable receiving it. Last night, while we were showering, we both admitted that we feel guilty doing anything that doesn’t look productive. Apparently even our relaxing conversations come with an agenda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe that is why I’ve been thinking so much about abundance and excess. I am abundant in this life. We have a home, food, love, and time together when we allow time to be enough. Excess is different. Excess is the clothing I don’t wear and the things I don’t touch but continue to manage anyway. I’ve started letting those things go. The less I have to sort, move, clean, and think about, the more room I seem to find in both my house and my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m trying to find that same room in my days. The full Buck Moon in Aquarius is supposed to be a time for transformation, which sounds lovely, although I wish transformation came with a clearly lit path. My mantra for this round of moon water has been, “I choose steadiness and abundance for my family and myself. Both things are allowed without losing who I am.” I stand barefoot and feel the floor beneath my feet. I focus on the task in front of me instead of building a list for tomorrow, next week, and a month from now. Some mornings, that moment of grounding happens in the bathroom while four cats wait outside the gate and two dogs and a toddler remain one open latch away from joining them. Stillness is relative around here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A couple of years ago, my dad and I were recovering from major surgeries at the same time. His was a hip and mine was my left shoulder. He told me to “embrace the suck.” That is what this season feels like sometimes. Not a disaster. Not a punishment. Just an uncomfortable stretch that can’t be skipped because I’d rather be on the other side of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I still feel failure before I feel anything else when I look at the spreadsheet. I’m not going to pretend one rainy afternoon and a moon-water mantra fixed that. But underneath the anxiety, there is also the peace that comes from doing the work and telling the truth. The numbers are asking us to change direction. They are not qualified to tell me that the last four years were wasted or that what I contributed didn’t count.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am okay with less. I’m still learning to trust that the girls will be okay with it too. They may even be better for learning that abundance isn’t the same as always getting to do more, and that sometimes keeping a promise to your family looks like saying no now so there is steadiness later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The spreadsheet can tell me what came in and what went out. It can show me where we need to tighten the reins and what needs our attention next. What it cannot count is a senior year I didn’t miss, a preschool morning I still get to hold, or the value of being home when the people I love need me. For now, I’m trying to let those things count too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Continue the Conversation<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

If today’s essay felt like someone put words to something you’ve been carrying, I think you’ll find a little more of yourself in The Unguided Woman<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s not a roadmap or a list of answers. It’s an honest conversation about perimenopause, identity, grief, and learning to trust yourself again when life feels unfamiliar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Download The Unguided Woman<\/a> here.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It’s raining today, and there are plenty of things I should probably be doing. Instead, I’m sitting here building a financial-readiness spreadsheet while Evelyn watches A Bug’s Life in the living room. Nothing ties my chest up quite like money talks, so naturally I decided the best way to spend a rainy afternoon was by […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-541","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life-lately"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/541","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=541"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/541\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":542,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/541\/revisions\/542"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=541"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=541"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=541"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}