Baby, I have to tell you that I'm sorry and disappointed in myself and in Daddy. We had wonderful intentions when we first got married. We lived off Daddy's paycheck and banked mine, but this didn't last very long. We gradually started to spend more on vacations, the truck, dinners, etc and to save less for you.
I wish I could say we saved reliably until we'd given up hope of you, but we didn't. Then we moved to Charleston and bought a house that we definitely can't afford on one paycheck. We told ourselves that we bought it because it was large enough for a family to grow, but we really just loved it. The result of all of this materialism is that I am going to have to work and send you to daycare.
I'm hoping to find another job from home that requires minimal travel, so that at least we'll have some flexibility. I know that God will work everything out, but I also know that Daddy and I have to accept the outcome of our lifestyle. I'm hopeful that we'll get much better, start to save, and learn to live on less so that I can quit when the boat is paid off, but until then, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for the cold you'll get, for surrounding you with strangers and for the regiment we'll force on you so young. I'm sorry for not planning better.
