It may be time to Feel Your Boobies

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**I was compensated for this post and this post contains affiliate links, and I will be compensated if you make a purchase after clicking on my links.

I wondered what more I could add to the panoply of pink in this, the month of Breast Cancer Awareness. I imagine we all have too many friends and family members who were diagnosed either far too young or far too late in the game to fight the good fight. Other than education, what more can we do so that the day may come when we no longer have to organize walks and races for the cure, where we don’t need to hawk pink merch to remind women (and men!) to feel their boobies? Here are a few ways that may help to move the needle…

Podcast re: Breast Health + Imaging

Recently, I have helped to promote the book of an author, Heather Frimmer, who is also a radiologist specializing in breast health. Heather was featured on a podcast interview recently where she talked about something I was not as familiar with: the notion of “dense breasts.” The interview mentions the words “dense breasts” roughly 29348029384 times and that sort of grosses me out to think about, but now that I know about breast density, I’m a little more empowered. (Basically, you won’t know you have this tissue unless you have a mammogram.)

Bracelet for a Cause

In principle, I’m a little meh about the commodification of causes, especially if they’re only offering a small portion of the revenue toward a cause and are merely an excuse to sell more goodies. However, I thought this bracelet by Stella + Dot was quite fetching. The Tribute Bracelet is attractive and fairly minimalist, but also, what a perfect accessory to remind one to do a quick breast check. See pretty bracelet. See pink beads. Check boobies. No lumpies. Rinse and repeat.

Another reason I liked the Tribute Bracelet is because it benefits an organization, Bright Pink, that is clearly making Breast Cancer Awareness education as accessible as possible.

Check out Bright Pink
Here are just a few features on the site:

We may not be able to see the end of breast cancer as we know it in our lifetime, but I truly believe with more education, we will advance progress toward a cure.

Update: How I paid for my kid’s camp this year

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UPDATE as of June 6, 2019: I just registered one of my children for their first overnight camp experience. I was able to use my Stash piggy bank to pay for 75% of it. If I had put more money away throughout the year, there’s no doubt I would have been able to cover the entire cost. But since it was my first year using Stash, I was more conservative with investing and moving money around between different funds. I think next year I’ll be a bit more bearish, now that I understand how the platform works and how automatic deposits are what work for me to ensure consistent saving. It felt incredibly good to be able to transfer my investments to liquid cash. Since Stash is all about microinvestments, there’s a bit more planning and strategizing than a traditional savings account (sorry if that is a memo from the Dept. of Obvious). It takes at least 2 days for these transactions to take place, so my advice is to give yourself a good week to sift through anything you want to sell so the money will be ready to transfer to your bank when you need it.



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I live at the intersection where Spendthrift Avenue meets Frugal Lane. I live in a humble home built of fickle sticks under a flimsy roof where I have just about the same level of interest in running up credit card bills as I have in stockpiling my savings: about zero. I don't want the stress of dealing with debt nor do I want the long, plodding risk-averse life of being a miser. Whenever I share my lack of interest in Watching Money Work, a well-intended friend asks me if I've heard of Dave Ramsey. I think they are always disappointed that I do know about Dave Ramsey and do listen to his podcast but also that I do really think the (near?) obsessive focus so many Ramsey-ites adopt about their money is off-putting. Even if his methods are proven. Being super money-focused isn't my jam. 

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What is my jam is occasionally having fun with my dough. Spending it on others in small little ways that delight. Donating it to an organization I support. Socking away a few bones into my kids' college funds. 

This is why I enjoy the Stash. It's about small, little, measurably consistent ways of saving money, that keeps it fun. To be honest, I don't know that it's the best way or even a wise way to save money, so I'm not putting all my pesos in this one bolso. What I do know is that when I opened my account in May, they gave me $5 to start. And now, at the end of August, I somehow have $100 that I didn't have a few months ago. 

Here's the proof in the pudding. I'm showing you my debits and credits in the account. 

In May, I invested the $5 minimum and ran with it. Invested $30 more of my own. Learned the platform to see how I could maximize my dollars. 

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The next month, I invested $20 more. Nothing earth-shattering happened, but I felt good knowing I had a consistent plan to stick some money in a digital drawer that nobody was going to touch. 

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In July, I was a big saver and put away another $20. I know. Eat your heart out, Dave Ramsey. 

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Last month, I put $10 into Stash, and moved some cash within the account into different stocks.  Each month, I paid between $.50-$1 in fees. 

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Three months. I invested roughly $90 of my own money. And now I have $100. I've had fun rolling the dice with some microinvestments and learned a little bit more about the stock market. With Stash, you can invest in a mix of stocks and funds or identify specific companies where you want to send your pocket change. 

Stash has a "Get $5, Give $5" that I'm happy to share here to start your investing fun. 

As I mentioned, this isn't a magical piggy bank, but it's been a motivating force to save that was not all-consuming but actually fun and cultivated helpful habits that I hope to continue. 

An update on life per ye blog times of olde

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I transferred all the kendraspondence content to this proffy site to be less insane, oh I mean, to streamline the brand and it's all nicely in tandem with some other moves happening.

Like how we moved across town to the cutest little cottage. I keep pinching myself at the good fortune, which leads me to the notion of favor.

I've been feeling some favor over my life. I learned recently that mentions of “favor” in the New Testament usually uses the Greek word "karis." I'm told its purest translation is "grace." And that's changing my conception of what favor has meant and looked like, at least for me, in the past. Because from my sloppy read of favor in Scripture, it usually entails God doing a mighty feat through a cracked or flimsy vessel. God favors the surrendered heart so he can do his thing. It challenges our present-day definition of favor, from the verb associated often with teacher’s pets and the noun associated with plastic eggs full of slime netted from a birthday party.

At first blush, there is no expectation tethered to our modern concept of favor. A coach runs plays centered around one player; a party girl hands out bath bombs to her guests. But of course there is an expectation. To whom much is given, much is expected. So score some goals with all that ice time. And invite me to your party next time.

Our family has been given a house to occupy for as long as Loverpants is in this school’s employ, and in exchange we pay the price of our proximity. We have surrendered privacy for community, boundaries for a lack of a mortgage.

Whereas God lavishes us with favor and expects nothing in return. He has already paid the ransom for our very lives. This is why the Gospel is just so impossible, so unmanageable. What could we even offer him?

And yet he makes like our turning hearts toward him like sunflowers arching toward sunlight is enough.

I’m overwhelmed by the favor God has shown me recently: our house, some writing opportunities, the unbridled love of family and friends. It’s too much.

And then I remember how long we have lived with housing uncertainty in our short 13 years of marriage. I think about how dry and dark the winter was when I was pitching my little typing hands off to just land one article with one measly pub. I can’t forget the trials my friends have faced down and had to take on the chin.

This too, is where God has shown favor. The favor of his restoration. think I like God doing a new thing even through old battered vessels best of all. It’s not just the unlikely characters that he works through. He shows favor even when we have trashed the house.

In the last few months, I have seen the restoration of my daughter’s easy, trusting smile to an otherwise furrowed brow. I have seen the reunification of a friend’s marriage. I have seen a friend get engaged and thrive in her career after a year of scorched earth. I have seen my baby brother blow out 30 birthday candles on a cake. God has shown his kindness when we couldn’t have muscled any of this on our own. He has restored the years the locusts have eaten and dried the tears that the vipers had shaken out of us.

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Restoration is my favorite. I’m buckets of grateful. God is good.