This week is Money Week on Not Quite Betty Crocker! Yesterday I started telling my mucky money story (you can catch up here), and today I’ll catch you up to, well, today.

After months of mentioning this whole Dave Ramsey no-debt-equals-lots-of-money theory, Joey read a chapter of his book and got the idea. By this time, I was fully on board with the idea of not having anymore debt, but, well, still using credit cards for little purchases and not really talking to Joey about money. Not well, anyway.

Lesson: when you want your new husband to get on board with a philosophy (even one not far from his own), bring in the cavalry – books, radio shows, whatever.

Oh, ha, ha, I almost forgot to mention: almost immediately upon getting hitched I declared that our marriage would be better if we combined accounts. Riiiight! In my defense, Dave agrees, however, even he said you couldn’t do it all at once and recommended to me that we start by joint budgeting for one thing. Yes, I called him, and yes, it was awesome (he called me “darlin’”). And yes, my ill-fated attempt to combine our accounts led to much posturing and defensiveness and was abandoned.

Lesson: month two of marriage is not the appropriate time to require both of you to change long-standing money management habits, especially when only one of you thinks it’s necessary, and that person is the one most likely to get defensive when her turf is threatened.

So then I decided I could do it with my income, had a few discussions about him doing more of the grocery-buying and funding of pet stuff, and budgeted myself within five dollars of my sanity. That was July 31st. I’d just written a multi-thousand dollar check in order to refinance my SUV and I figured, can’t get any more broke than I am now (I know, I could have, but it helped me find perspective). We had four credit cards, two motorcycle loans and the aforementioned 401k loan that got us into this house.

I made some progress, but I was stressed and edgy and not much fun at all. My husband sat me down, told me I was going off the deep end, and kindly insisted I start spending more money. Not a lot, just a little. I bought some furniture, got a pedicure, and went back to my spreadsheet.

Lesson: when your husband tells you you’ve swung the pendulum a little too far and begs you to buy furniture, for heaven sake, listen.

Then my hubby really got the bug. He suggested in October that if we cut back even more, he could pay off an extra debt. I kinda sorta lost my shit. I felt pressured and cornered and committed and I couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t handle this. I want to cry or hide or stomp my feet. Let’s talk about it later.” (x 10 ^ 10) As the one in my life and relationships who always decided where my money went – even in this – I had a hard time accepting input.

Lesson: setting a good example is a great idea, until your husband takes the bait and starts pushing you.

But we did it and for the first time we felt like a team. Talking about money made us converse better and the fact that I was focusing on the bright side by then didn’t hurt.

Lesson: not having money to throw around is something you can learn to get used to, and having a homebody husband who prefers to eat at home and happens to think everyTHING* you cook is yummy are incredibly helpful. So are cooking skills and growing up on Mexican food. Seriously, how do people eat well and cheaply without burritos and tacos and tostadas and chilaquiles and nachos in their arsenal? Quick, yummy, easy, and super-cheap!

Not such a bright side: not having the excuse of a restaurant to get out of the house. That’s been really hard for me to handle, but I’m adjusting. Some weeks are better than others. Some weeks I scheme all afternoon to convince Joey that we should go out for dinner. Luckily, the place I suggest most often is a cheap little Mexican dive down the street. Other times I hit the coffee shop for the day because a four dollar coffee is still less expensive than a lunch or dinner out.

Like any relationship, changing mine with money required an almost impossible balance of independence, confidence, vulnerability, strength and honesty. Doing that with another person involved is a slow, slow, SLOW process, but once you have the same goal, it can go really well.

As of this Friday we will have paid off every debt except for the cars and mortgage: $10,279.26. We’ll be writing the last check to pay off the 401k loan I took to have a down payment for this house (ah, 2008 was a crazy year, huh?) and crossing the last “little debt” off our list in exactly twelve weeks of trying (or six paychecks in Marisa-language). Remember, I’m the one who would rather be able to fritter away my money on little things than have to think, “I can’t afford that,” so this has been a BIG change for me, but one I’m proud of.

Tomorrow… my latent consumerist longings or my budget spreadsheet, depending on how much time I have to blog.

*In the original version of this post, I said “everyONE you cook…” which would only be true if I named the unfortunate animal destined for my dinner. And while I’d often like to kiss a cow’s mama for her contribution to my contentedness, I still refuse to use names.