Money Diary: A Deputy Director On £80,000

A note to say that this will sadly be the last money diary that is published to Refinery29 UK. The company is winding down production after an amazing decade of content, meaning articles will stop going live soon. Money Diaries has always been at the heart of our brand and sharing our audience’s approach to life and spending has been one of our biggest accomplishments. While there have been many imitators, R29’s Money Diaries were an industry first. Thank you for all of your contributions and comments over the years, we will miss you all. Sincerely, your Money Diaries Editor.

This week: "I'm a 36-year-old civil servant living in the West Midlands. I have one almost two-year-old daughter (F) and an elderly dog (P). I am a solo mum by choice and conceived my daughter with a donor sperm after a relationship breakdown made me realise having a child was more important to me than having a partner. Being on my own definitely makes some aspects of parenthood more challenging, but I wouldn't change it for the world and being a mum has made me a thousand times more relaxed, happier and content. I have a fairly demanding job in an operational role within the civil service. Having worked my way up since joining after I graduated 14 years ago, I have been in this role the longest out of any I have had and do recognise I am less ambitious at the moment. Juggling childcare, housework and life admin, I find I have very little time to myself anymore, but I enjoy being F's mum so much I am saving up to give her a sibling. Despite being on a relatively good income, I have high outgoings, which aren't helped by buying a 'do-er upper' house (I'm currently saving up for a new roof...) but I am quite sanguine about this being a phase of life. My house is a long-term home for F and I and I am enjoying seeing it come together (very slowly) and the nursery fees aren't forever. I am so lucky to have her and be worrying about nursery fees, whether to continue paying for swimming lesson and broken sleep is, to me, a small price to pay."

Occupation: Deputy Director
Industry: Civil Service
Age: 36
Location: Birmingham
Salary: £80,000
Joint income: N/A
Assets: I have a mortgage on my own home with probably about £100,000 equity in it, £7,500 in premium bonds and just shy of £30k in a stocks and shares ISA, plus about £1,000 in crypto.
Debt: £4,300 on a 0% interest credit card.
Paycheque Amount: £4,657
Pronouns: She/her

Monthly Expenses

Monthly Housing Costs: £1,402
Utilities: £171 gas and electric, £63 water, £32.99 broadband.
Number of Housemates: Two, my daughter F, and my dog, P.
Monthly Loan Payments: £150 car loan.
Pension: Yes, I pay £493.81 a month in and my employer pays just over £1,300.
All Other Monthly Expenses: £8 SIM only contract, £879 nursery fees, £32.99 pet insurance.

Did you participate in any form of higher education? If yes, how did you pay for it?
Yes, I went to university and did a postgraduate degree. I had a student loan for the undergraduate degree tuition and living expenses and was very lucky my parents paid my student accommodation. I also worked every holiday for an agency doing administrative work. I got a scholarship and stipend for my master's. A few years ago, I cleared about £9,000 left on my student loan as the interest rate on it was higher than the interest rates at the time...

Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parent/guardian(s) educate you about finances?
I definitely didn't realise we were as well off as we were growing up and sometimes worried about whether we could afford things like expensive school trips. Looking back, this is because my parents are savers and were overpaying into their pensions and mortgage. They were lucky enough to be mortgage-free and retired by their mid fifties. As a child, I could see we had basic but functional cars and didn't go on holiday every year, but I didn't see how much they were saving. It definitely rubbed off on me because I have always been cautious about money and really struggle to make big purchases now. I feel lucky that they explained about investing in your future, security and the value of overpaying a mortgage early and having a good pension. I think the value of the employer contribution is often overlooked.

What was your first job and why did you get it?
My first job was as a weekend receptionist in sixth form working for a local hospital. I got it through an agency and went back every holiday while I was an undergraduate. I worked to have a bit more disposable income and get some work experience and a little independence.

Did you worry about money growing up?
Not the big worries like whether we would be able to afford the house, or if the washing machine could be replaced if it broke, but I definitely worried about whether we could afford the latest shoes or if I could go on school trips abroad. I have a big family, so holidays were very expensive and we didn't go away often and many clothes were hand-me-downs. That being said, there was never any uncertainty about the ability to pay for the big-ticket items, such as driving lessons or university accommodation (as long as it wasn't in London).

Do you worry about money now?
Unfortunately, I worry a lot about my finances now, despite being a relatively high earner. I have high outgoings with well over half my income going on essentials (mortgage, nursery fees, train fares to work and utilities bills). I also know this is a short-term issue and come September my nursery bill will drop by about £300, which will really help.

At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and does anyone else cover any aspects of your financial life?
I became financially independent at 21 when I graduated from my undergraduate degree. I did a funded master's and have had a job ever since which I have paid rent/mortgage from. I'm still logged onto my parents' Netflix account...

Do you or have you ever received passive or inherited income?
I inherited about £30,000 when a grandparent died and used this to help towards a deposit for my first flat.

6:15 a.m. — This counts as a lie-in around here. F greets the day with her usual enthusiasm and refusal to brush her teeth with anything but the exact toothpaste I have just run out of. I place an emergency order via Amazon Prime for a three-pack to avoid this happening again, £6.99. Parenting pro tip: stockpile toddler-approved products like they’re gold bullion.

7:50 a.m. — I pay £24.60 for my train into the office. The price makes me wince every time — particularly since moving offices turned my once-reasonable commute into a 40-minute journey that’s almost guaranteed to be delayed. Still, I love the work and I’m grateful for the stability.

8 a.m. — I pay £6 for parking on a side street near the station via app. I also have to budget a few extra minutes every morning to quietly curse whoever is responsible for the parking restrictions in this town.

2:15 p.m. — I duck out for a quick coffee catch-up with a colleague. We’re both working on a challenging project and need to touch base. He tells me all about his new kitten (adorable chaos) and I show off a picture of F with yogurt on her forehead. Balance. The sunshine and caffeine help, £3.40.

5 p.m. — I manage to leave five minutes early today and dash to the station quickly enough to hop on a fractionally earlier train I usually miss. Feeling smug, I reply to a few emails on the train and sign off a big report my team have been working on. 

6 p.m. — I get to the nursery with time to spare and F and I get home ready for a quick snack and bedtime. Tonight she isn’t keen on going to sleep, so I end up with her in my bed and fall asleep with her.

8 a.m. — Another train, £24.60. Today I strike parking gold and find a space on a side street with no parking restrictions. Small wins. 

9 a.m. — Work is full-on and I nip out to Boots during lunch. I pick up plasters (F is increasingly mobile and full of enthusiasm but tragically short on coordination), shampoo, conditioner, paracetamol, and a lip balm I absolutely don’t need but convince myself is medicinal, £31.20.

5 p.m. — After having to leave an overrunning meeting to catch my train, I collect F from nursery. She has been on the receiving end of a bite today and nursery have a number of forms I need to fill in. F fortunately seems unbothered and hopefully it is a one-off. When we get home, F has discovered a new game where she puts socks on the dog and then claps for herself like she’s invented fire. I enjoy just watching them both while a batch cooked lentil lasagne cooks. I’ve taken to putting them in disposable trays which is saving me a washing-up job, albeit I feel a bit guilty about the environmental impact. 

7 p.m. — Bathtime was trickier tonight as F required a hair wash and she has strong feelings about this. Fortunately, she is still fairly bald so it was over quickly. We didn’t have a story tonight as she was so tired we just had a cuddle and she fell asleep in my arms. I live for these moments, so I spend time in the nursing chair with her (and P by my feet), feeling very happy with the family I have made for myself. If only there was someone to take the bins out!  

8 a.m. — Working from home today. I finally get around to ordering a custom birthday card for a dear friend I met through work years ago, £8.99. We’ve both stuck to our pact of “no presents, just thoughtful cards” and I always try to make it a good one.

11:40 a.m. — I have a coffee break and tweak my online food shop. Online grocery shopping is an unsung hero for solo parents. I ditch the failed yoghurts from last week (a hard no from F) and replace them with Babybel. I also sneak in a chocolate bar for me, £61.19. I manage to throw some bleach around the bathroom and polish the taps before logging back on for a meeting at 12:15 p.m.

5:05 p.m. — I don’t get any more breaks until I log off as I was in back-to-back meetings. It can be quite intense and I have been helping a manager deal with a difficult personnel issue in my area which has taken up a lot of my time lately.

6 p.m. — I have managed to log off early enough that I can walk to collect F from nursery, bringing P with me for a stroll. After nursery pick-up, we pass an ice cream van. I’m not made of stone. £4.50 later, F has a small cone and a sticky face.

7 p.m. — Convincing her to eat any vegetables was trickier tonight as I think she was full of ice cream, but I like to be able to say yes to treats occasionally. We have beans on toast as I am too tired to make anything more exotic. After bathtime and storytime, I blitz the kitchen while messaging a friend. The kitchen is inexplicably messy and I feel satisfied leaving it immaculate as I head to bed far later than planned.

7 a.m. — Today’s commute is different. I’m going to London for a meeting, I always love travelling back as I lived here when I started working and many of my friends still live here. Work has paid for my train ticket so that’s a small financial win. I grab a flat white at the station (expensed) and silently cheer that I remembered to pack a banana and a cereal bar for the train.

11 a.m. — After the meeting, I catch up with my manager and two London-based colleagues over lunch (expensed). We chat work, childcare, and teenage angst. Every manager on our team has kids, so the work/life overlap is real.

5 p.m. — I grab Leon at the station on the way home, chicken wrap and a hot chocolate, £12.87. I know if I don’t eat something now, I’ll inevitably end up ordering a takeaway or eating too much chocolate later. I enjoy the train ride and listen to a podcast in peace while also scrolling through baby pics of F and puppy pics of P on my phone.

8 p.m. — I don’t get home until late tonight but my babysitter has collected F from nursery and put her to bed. I always feel terribly guilty when I am not back for bedtime but I recognise my job is helping me provide a stable and happy home for her. I have condensed my hours so I only work four days a week now for a relatively small pay cut. It has been a godsend when I am having guilty moments like this as I can look forward to spending all day with her tomorrow.

9 p.m. — Finally I do the ironing in front of Love Island and set off another load of washing. 

5:45 a.m. — Crying about rhinos (I’m quite impressed she knows what a rhino is as I don’t recall teaching her this). We cuddle in my bed while I transfer £20 to a friend for a baby shower we’re planning. The WhatsApp group for my mum friends is lighting up with news of second pregnancies. I’m so glad we’ve stayed connected. Having a group of mums who are also navigating the terrible twos is invaluable.

9 a.m. — I buy a Vinted bundle of leggings and T-shirts for F, £10. She needs clothes for nursery that can handle paint, glue and spaghetti hoops. I like to think of this as evidence of a day well spent at nursery and I am glad she has been given free access to paint at somewhere other than our house but it does make for a lot of indelible stains.

11 a.m. — Friday is my day off, so we go to our swimming class, £18.50. It’s not cheap, but it’s joyful. F looks like a little frog paddling along and I get to chat with other mums in the changing room about everything from baby sleep to lunchbox ideas.

12 p.m. — Afterwards, we stop at the café, babyccino for her, cake and cappuccino for me, £9.50. We go with a couple of other mums and their toddlers and catch up on what everyone has been up to this week. Afterwards, we have a supermarket dash for cleaning bits, fresh veg, and ready meals for the week, £22.97. While I batch cook, F “helps” by banging spoons on pans and narrating what her baby doll (imaginatively named ‘baby’) is doing.

7 p.m. — After bedtime, I order new barrel leg jeans and work tops in the sale, £36. My pre-baby wardrobe isn’t cutting it anymore and I’m halfway between deluding myself that I might fit into my old clothes again and finally accepting that I may not be back in my old jeans for a while, and that’s okay.

9:30 a.m. — Ballet class this morning! It’s basically toddler chaos in a tutu, and I live for it. £13.50 for the joy of watching F do a wobbly twirl and sing the teddy bears picnic.

11:30 a.m. — After class, we walk P over to my parents' for lunch. They help with nursery pick-ups and walk her when I’m in the office — true heroes. I bring flowers to say thanks, £10. We usually have a Sunday lunch but they have plans tomorrow, they also haven’t seen F for a couple of weeks, having been on holiday and they have missed her.

12:30 p.m. — In the evening, I cave and order a replacement charger, for F’s ride-on car, which has been gathering dust, £8.99. She keeps whispering “car sleepy” when it won’t go and it broke my heart. Hopefully, this will revive her little vehicle and stop her from thinking it’s just very lazy. I might live to regret this choice, but the charger can always get lost again if she has inherited my driving skills.

1:30 p.m. — Once F is in bed I have a group call with some of my uni friends. It’s an odd time, we are all mid-late thirties now and our life stages are spanning everything from picking a secondary school, to navigating divorce to festivals and digital nomading. I always love being grounded and hearing what everyone is up to, being a shoulder to cry on and reminiscing for the early 2010s. I am constantly amazed at how quickly time has gone as in my head we are all still in our very early twenties. I am so proud of everyone, but it is shocking to me that we are all ‘real grown-ups’ and I still see the twenty-year-olds, not the consultant surgeon and the headteacher!

6 a.m. — Making pancakes, because F has no respect for weekend lie-ins. She’s in charge of squirty cream and berry distribution and the dog hoovers up anything that hits the floor. It costs £5 for the ingredients used, I think most of it went on the floor but I was gifted a robot vacuum and mop as a baby shower gift, which I was slightly bemused by at the time but has proven to be the best and most helpful thing I have ever received. RoboMop makes quick work of the sticky mess on the floor.

2 p.m. — Later we go for a long walk in a big park with P, £3 for parking. F walks part of the way then hops into the baby carrier, where she proudly declares she’s “a big girl backpack”. Luckily, she is small for her age but I am not sure how much longer my back will cope with this. Maybe next week I’ll invest in a scooter or trike.

3 p.m. — I’ve packed a picnic — Babybel, carrot sticks and chocolate raisins. It’s more “what’s in the fridge” than Pinterest-worthy, but F is thrilled. I grab an iced frappe at the café and count the outing as both cardio and therapy, £6.50.

5 p.m. — When we get home it’s teatime and bathtime and F is in bed at a respectable 7:20 p.m. tonight after three stories. I have realised I now actually know The Gruffalo by heart so we don’t even need to find the book for that one. She is brilliant at settling herself to sleep now and I count that as a big win. After she is in bed I do my weekly self-care ritual of a deep hot bath and then spend some one-on-one time with P, who finally gets all of my lap and my undivided attention. She is a patient and ever-loving confidant. 

"This was a lower spend week, but it was also at the end of the month. I am excited to have a little more breathing room next month when F's 30-hours funding kicks in. I'm being as frugal as I can at the moment because my kitchen desperately needs doing. I think I am in a good position overall with my finances, but I think most people find the nursery years expensive."