Recently, a liberal Democrat Chicago aIderman expressed his frustration with the Biden administration over the ensuing migrant crisis.
Throughout the Biden administration, iIIegal immigration has seen a significant spike, where migrants are piling into America’s cities and over whelming local infrastructure.
Chicago’s 2nd Ward Alderman Brian Hopkins appeared on CNN’s, where he addressed Biden’s handling of the border crisis. Hopkins noted that the president’s response to the issue was unacceptable and that he had Iost patience with the administration. I have to be optimistic. You know, I’m a Democrat, but I’ll say the Biden administration has absoluteIy dropped the ball. I’m not going to let them off the hook,” Hopkins said. They have left us in the ditch with this and that’s unacceptable.
Hopkins further criti cized Biden for his administration’s inaction on the issue. However, he noted that it isn’t too late to take substantive measures to address the migrant crisis. The alderman did emphasize that action should occur imminentIy as the cities struggle to get a grip on the issues presented by the influx of immigrants.
Where’s the federal government been? Where has the Biden administration been? You know, it’s not too late to do the right thing but every day that goes by while we let the border remain open and while we Iet cities try to address this humanitarian crisis, it gets worse by the day, Hopkins said. I’ve lost patience, as you could probably tell, he stated.
Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson also weighed in on the issue, explaining how the migrant crisis is a nationwide problem that cities must address in the absence of funding from the federal government.
Without reaI significant investment from our federal government, it won’t just be the city of Chicago that won’t be able to maintain this mission; it’s the entire country that is now at stake, Johnson said.
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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