Welcome to the Financial Follies of FrugalJo.

I heard about this idea that involved sitting down with your family at the beginning of each year, making goals, framing the list and then hanging the frame in a prominent place in your home. I suppose, in theory, the idea is to be super-inspired to achieve these well-planned, thoughtful and profound goals.

Although it sounded like a great idea and some people might be motivated by creating the list, the framing, the posting and having Goals As Art, I am personally motivated by being able to cross things off the list. And if they were framed, I would be the person that would have to take the frame down and remove the glass just to cross something off the list.

I realize, of course, the goals don't have to be framed, but the person who spoke about this idea was so persuasive in this framing technique that I felt like the whole thing would be for nothing and the Magic Goals wouldn't come true if they were just stuck on the fridge with a magnet.

But over the Christmas break, when there was no shortage of relatives around to watch Twin A and Twin B, Husband and I spent some much-needed time together and decided to give this concept a try.

We didn't plan to plan, and please don't mistake us for That Organized Couple that you hate, because it was truly uninspired the way it happened. Our spin on the idea came from a need to simply discuss our schedules -- we both tend to find ourselves a wee-bit overcommitted at times and wanted to figure out who got what night out of the house. It was either that, or go to a movie that started at 9:45, which is normally our bedtime, so pizza and planning it was. Besides, we were getting older. Getting wiser. It seemed like a responsible thing to do. We had kids for crying out loud.

We ordered adult beverages, found two pens and some paper, all coated in Goldfish cracker crumbs in the bottom of my bag and went to work. Personal goals. Professional goals. House goals. Vacation goals. Things-that-just-had-to-get-done goals. Goals for our kids. We stopped short of a family vision statement, but did develop action plans, to-do lists and a timeline.

Husband, who practices architecture, set out to start the grueling licensing process and even noted that he had to complete the first exam before our vacation to Colorado to attend a scooter rally. No test, no rally. He also had some hobbies he wanted to pursue and his goal for the spring was to finally part with the dozens of banker's boxes full of cassette tapes and empty CD jewel cases that haven't seen the light of day since grunge.

Pretty happy with where I was and finally feeling like I was hitting my stride as a stay-at-home mom, I set the usual goals: not lose my stride, exercise more, eat healthier, watch less Barney, read more books to the kids, read more grown-up books that had nothing to do with parenting, write more, throw out the Supergirl underwear that was getting a bit thin and get my bone spur on my toe surgically removed.

As for Twin A and Twin B, we talked about how we wanted to explore preschool options for next fall, get them signed up for a few activities to get us through the long winter, and discussed getting them bikes this spring. We also decided that a garden would be great and some type of deck-patio thingy was a priority too.

Making a realistic plan rather than our normal living in LaLa Land, for us, was a huge step. Anyone who casually asked "how were the holidays??", hoping for a generic response like "Great! How was yours?" instead got an earful. I took their question as an open invitation to tell them all about our plans and gushed about every detail, including the part about framing them and then revisiting them at the end of each year.

And then on New Year's Eve day, giddy with excitement about our goals and on a high that only a borderline compulsive list maker can understand, our little bubble burst. Our entire family got the stomach flu at the exact same time -- the achy-breaky, pukey-poopy flu. And it was during time spent in bed, watching a bad-we-don't-have-cable-tv-wait-I'm-gonna-puke-infomercial about how to get rich quick that it hit me. It was what we DIDN'T talk during our goal conversation that made another wave of vomit hit me: MONEY. Not once during our three-hour plan fest, did we ever consider the financial implications of our fabulously frameable goals.

Just how, exactly, were we going to pay for Husband's expensive exams? And where was the money coming from to pay for all these kids activities, bikes and possibly preschool for the boys? And a garden? We don't even know where a garden would GO, let alone have supplies to just "start a garden". And vacation? HI. Apparently, our van was like the Magic School Bus and it was going to sprout wings and transport us to our destination. And aside from spending, what about saving? How much would we be bringing in this year? What were our anticipated medical expenses? And how much does removing a claw from a middle left toe cost, anyway?

Realizing this spoke volumes about the way we live our life. And many might say rock on -- why talk about it if you don't have to? But we are the people that need to. We don't have a trust fund or an imminent inheritance. We live paycheck to paycheck -- or rather we should. Living paycheck to paycheck would be an improvement for us instead of accumulating more debt. We should not be trusted with home equity lines of credit. We are honestly surprised every six months when the auto insurance bill needs to be paid. Shocked when the car registration tabs are due and think it's downright rude to get a phone disconnection notice when it was really the fault of The Bank's automatic bill pay process.

It's not that we never talk about money, but I think, rather, it's that we ALWAYS talk about money. It lingers. It's ever-present and is easier not to talk about because why? Every conversation is painfully the same: how to reduce our spending, save more, afford a car repair bill, pay for birthday presents, provide for a few of life's little luxuries, etc. There is never resolution and it's exhausting. Husband and I both simply ignore the topic, assume that we're both doing something about it and hope that Amy Grant will have received our Three Wishes telepathically and do a tear-jerking concert in our cul-de-sac as I cry accepting full-ride college scholarships for Twin A and Twin B.

And with the sad reality of our bank account, our commitment to remaining home with our kids, and the renewed energy that comes with a new year, I re-committed myself to discovering and delving deeper into a world of frugality. First up: post our goals on the fridge and let them serve as a constant reminder of what we didn't talk about, but need to.