My Bipolar Relationship with Money

The Silicon Valley Moms Blog, hosted "Money Thursday" yesterday. Here's a "reprint" of my post there.

I’ve always had a complex relationship with money. I spent the first six years of my life in Los Altos Hills (very affluent Silicon Valley Neighborhood). Then we moved to a remote Idaho ranch outside a town with a population of 450 (yes, four hundred and fifty) and my parents built a 10,000 square foot house. I was the “rich girl” whose peers often asked, “Is it true you have twenty telephones and an indoor swimming pool?” At school, most kids qualified for free or subsidized lunch tickets—I was odd because I paid full price. Most parents were loggers or cowboys or were supported entirely by welfare. I spent my entire adolescence being ashamed of money. I wanted to be like everyone else.

That wish came true my senior year of high school. My parents declared bankruptcy and I too, qualified for free lunch tickets. That gave me some level of sick satisfaction. Their bankruptcy also helped me quality for a huge financial aid package at Pepperdine University, which brought me to Malibu, and a complete role reversal. I wore Wranglers and drove a Ford Festiva while my suitemates wore designer jeans and cruised around in BMWs. I was now the charity case. Being accustomed to a life of not having to do without, and the fact that my parents had no money to help me through school, I graduated with $20,000 in credit card debt. It took me hundreds of tuna sandwiches, four years, and an arrangement with consumer credit counseling to pay it off, which wasn’t easy on my first salaried job.

So, ten years later, what have I learned? That I still have a bipolar relationship with money. I probably spend more than I should. Yet, sometimes, I find myself embarrassed to have what I have (a decent home in Silicon Valley with an SUV parked in front). I have a lot of excess compared to most people in the world, but compared to my zip code, I’m likely near the bottom rung. I’m not really envious of anyone with more money than I. I know from my childhood that having excess money has it’s own set of responsibilities and headaches. And, most everyone has problems, if not financial, then perhaps something worse, like health concerns or estranged relationships.

I’m blessed to have a wonderful husband who is healthier with money than I. We also have a kid not only to support, but to also set an example for—I don’t want him to learn the hard way like I did. So I guess I still need to spend some time clearing the skeletons from my wallet.

Checking, Savings, Trade School, Taxes

Although Jeep is only 15 months old, he receives an allowance. He has been getting a weekly allowance since two pink stripes displayed on a certain plastic stick. It isn’t that he has a trust fund or inheritance or that we have buckets of money – I just knew it would be a good idea to start a healthy money habit early.

Jeeper gets one dollar a week. In quarters. I put one quarter in each of the antique Bell jars that I bought when I was pregnant. The quarters aren’t for decoration although they do sparkle in their glass banks. I use quarters because it makes the math easier. You see, I distribute his allowance into four accounts: Checking, Savings, Trade School and Taxes. The money is for Jeep – and it is his to spend – within the boundaries of each account.

Checking is the NOW money. The “gum in the checkout line” or “poorly-made, over-priced toy in the gift shop” money. As soon as Jeeper’s brain can handle the logic of demand and supply, he can spend the money in his checking account as quickly or slowly as he likes. But he will also learn that Mama and Daddy won’t buy the gum or the toy for him (I can’t guarantee that Grandma/Grandpa or Nana/Papa will follow suit) so he will have to make his own choices and live with them.

Savings is the PRETTY SOON money. I don’t know yet if little Jeep will have a “burning a hole in my pocket” or a “miserly moneybags” mindset. Either way, to spend the money from the savings account he will need to check in with an advisor to get the purchase approved. The advisor’s role isn’t to talk him into or out of a purchase, but to be a touch point that reminds him of what he truly wants and values. Hopefully the savings account will produce many coveted toys and treasures while also teaching the sweet, sweet satisfaction of delayed gratification.

The Trade School account’s purpose is to make a dent in a future EDUCATIONAL endeavor. 25 cents a week won’t pay for books so we plan to supplement this account as we are able. Most likely and somewhat hopefully the future beneficiary of these funds will be the undergraduate tuition bill from a college or university. But the money is Jeeper’s to use for culinary school or a welding certification program or art school or an ESL certificate program in Spain or six years of community college courses or a PhD or whatever he chooses to pursue.

Earlier I wrote that Jeep’s allowance is for him and that he gets to spend it but that isn’t the whole truth because he has a jar for TAXES. We aren’t handing the fourth quarter over to Uncle Sam. The money in the final jar will be spent by our family (with Jeeper’s equal input) to benefit our home and our community. Family activities can be funded from this account (although repeated trips to Disneyland will be excluded) as are charitable contributions. One small way to remind him that with money comes a responsibility beyond yourself.

As Jeep gets older, I plan to increase his allowance to match his age. One dollar a week for each year lived, with ¼ still deposited into each account. The idea isn’t to fund Harvard tuition or pay for his first car, but to help him develop healthy spending and savings habits while fostering independence and freedom. One shiny quarter at a time.

Kitchen Bitch or Sexpot?

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve blogged, it’s not that I haven’t had anything to say, it’s just that it’s hard to sit at the computer when you’re still looking for basics, like toothpaste and clean underwear. Not only is moving a bitch, but also it’s also turning me into one. I told D just the other night that stay-home moms should be called “house bitches” because that’s exactly how I feel—bitchy. Now everyone throw your flipping appalled comments my way. And if you want to get really fired up, read Details Magazine's, Sexpots in the Kitchen, which I came across today in the chiropractor's office with the following tagline on the cover: "Why women should stay in the Kitchen."

Anyway, moving on to something more reverent:

In the spirit of CrissCreek’s recent post Toy’s Aren’t Us, Po Bronson’s essay in Time, on Baby Einstein v. Barbie was rather enlightening to me on what most of America is like outside of my life in Silicon Valley. I like his term, “Supermom lit” and the fact that he’s calling it out. I’m realizing what a sucker I am for the next hot title marketed especially to me—a generation-X-yuppie-mom who “consults,” paid way to much for a fixer-upper in San Jose, and owns every Baby Einstein DVD (it was a gift, though).

Speaking of my house… I’ve been over to the condo a couple times this week and I find myself missing it. It was so much easier to clean, it was warmer, cozier, and we made a ton of memories there. Would I be the craziest person in the world to move back??? Maybe I need to have a detachment ceremony so that the universe will send someone new to love it. If you have any suggestions on that front let me know. One cool thing that happened is that I pitched “our story” to Mercury News Reporter Sue McAllister and she posted it on her real estate blog. Gotta love blogs.

For the love of Money and Star Wars...

We have been working on teaching my kids the value of money; pretty hard sometimes in this day and age. Often times, when we are talking about something that the kids want – like McDonald’s or a new toy, the kids beg and plea. My typical response has been, “We can’t, we don’t have any money for that.” The smarties that they are, they’ve come up with a new response, “Yes, we we have money mama – we can use the credit card.” Aah!, if it were just that easy. I’d use that logic every time I cruise by a shoe store!

Regardless, we have instituted many measures to address money – allowances, piggy banks, paid chores…with more regularity and as the kids grow older I am hoping these will work to show my kids there is no limitless credit card at our household.

This weekend, my son, showed J and I, that we have made some strides. My son LOVES anything Star Wars, Legos and video games. This week the Star Wars 2 Legos video game came out. Last year for his birthday we bought him Version One. I used to think he was too little for games, so thought the Legos version would be a good compromise from the ones geared towards teens and adults. I had no idea how much he and J would love them. (Yes, I was SO naïve.) Actually, I am not sure who enjoyed the game more, J or my son.

Anyway, so C saw the ‘Coming soon” ad and of course, anxiously awaited the date. The moment it came out, J and C, looked on line to find the best deal. They found it at Target. C immediately went to his piggy bank and counted out the $30.00 he would need to bring Darth Vader home. It was mostly quarters, so they neatly put it all in plastic baggies. So all week, C looked forward to Friday – the BIG day! (I didn’t make the trek, but J relayed this experience – like the proud daddy that he was.)

They get to Target, they head to the video games section and find that it is one of the few remaining – whew! The store is about to close, so they hurry to the register. The cashier was a young man, who must have remembered his first time buying a game or a toy, so he kindly referred to C as “sir” and treated him with the respect any “official paying customer” should expect. C, of course, did not know whom the cashier was referring to when was called, “sir”. The cashier told him the amount due and took his baggie of quarters and said, “Thank you Sir, hope you enjoy your purchase and have a good evening.” C, sheepishly said, “Thank you and I will!” C and J ran home and immediately loaded it on the computer. Haven’t seen them for hours!

C’s piggy bank is a whole lot lighter. He has already asked about what chores he can do to earn more money. But he gets that you have to earn it or at least save money to get what you want – score one for mom and dad!

On another note:
I also thank the universe for the cashier, who was kind and respectful to my child! This was one of those moments he’ll always remember. Target probably has earned a lifelong loyal customer in C.

Tradeoffs

Our son has had some breakthroughs as of late - in the area of reading. It's an interesting thing to watch since we don't really work with him in any way. He will be 4 in December and he's reading. Not alot, but groups of small words here and there. People are quite astonished when they see him read something. I'm mostly intrigued since he does it all on his own. And while I do think it's wonderful and I'm really happy for him, I see it as a developmental piece and there are some, well, tradeoffs.

He's not potty trained - at all. Again, the age of 4 is approaching and it's kind of freaking me out.

He has absolutely no interest in using the potty and is perfectly content to use his pull-ups and not change a thing (except when he needs to be changed, of course.). We've tried the potty thing - a few times. We even bribed him with candy, which seemed to work for a while, and then he just decided getting candy wasn't worth using the potty anymore. As Dr. Phil would say, I guess it's not his 'currency'. Man, I'd really like to know what his 'currency' is. We had even hoped when he attended preschool 2 mornings a week last year, that he would watch the other kids 'go' and be inspired to learn. No such luck.

Wise folks who have been through the parenting mill tell me that he will just be ready some day, and everything will click - the desire, the mechanics of it all, and the willingness to be in a different place developmentally. I even tried to combine his love of reading/being read to with sitting on the potty, but again, it was fun at first, and then he just lost intrest/desire. Now when we try to talk with him about it or encourage him to use his potty, he just starts to melt down. He's not ready. (Big sigh from mom)

My mom stiffles her laughs about it all because . . . . . she remembers. Apparently I was the exact same way. It goes against all the conventional potty-training wisdom - I am a girl after all, and girls are supposed to be 'easy' to train. I was not. In fact, my mom says I was 4 when it all finally came together for me. Because I had two younger sisters, one who was 3 when I was 4, and the other who was almost 2 (my poor mother!), we all ended up being potty trained at about the same time.

If I had the time, training and lots of money, I'd love to do research on the brain and specifically learn how we learn. Are certain things already hard-wired, or do some folks find certain tasks, like reading, very natural, but other things, like new motor skills and developmental items to be more challenging? (We have faced some similar hurdles with teaching him to dress himself). Hmmmm . . this could be, as he was a 'late' walker as well. When he did walk, it just all clicked one day and he went from being an expert crawler to a walker. I don't think he fell even once. That is an interesting piece of it as well, because it's not like he doesn't do the physically developmental tasks well, he just waits until he's ready, and then does it fine. It's almost as if he wants to have a mastery over the new skill from the get-go.

So, I guess we're in a bit of a waiting game with him. Let me tell you, you'll know when that day comes for me. I"ll just write a post, "Hallelujah, HE DID IT!", and you'll know what it's all about. If he follows in his 'way' with learning new skills, he'll be an expert potty-user. In the meantime, I'll appreciate his intrest in reading and just love him for where he's at today.

Bedtime Rituals

We have always had a family bed – that is, my kids have always slept with us when they were infants and toddlers. Whether you agree with it or not, it has worked like a champ at our house and I am sad to say this era is just about over…

When we were pregnant with our first, we looked all over the world for the “right” crib and then scoured all of San Jose for a mattress with just enough springs for his precious baby back. Of course after all that work, he slept in his crib once or twice– and never through the night. I admit it was partly because I was too damn tired to get out of bed and feed him, partly because I am not good at anything or conscious at 3 a.m. and partly because of his perfect new baby smell that we succumbed to sharing our bed with this little 10 pound wonder. When Caden was born we lived in this tiny apartment with a full size bed and somehow it worked. My poor husband had this small corner of the bed, while we stretched out – but hey, I had to go through labor and breastfeeding – this was the least he could do I rationalized.

Caden slept with us until I got pregnant with his sister (he was 3) and I just got too big. Despite his protests, Caden moved to his own bed and Kiley moved in. It wasn’t easy to coax him into his own big boy bed, especially after he met his replacement, but we did it! We didn't even boter putting the crib up for our daughter, we knew it was going to be useless.

With Kiley, it has been a total of 6 years of sleeping with at least one child in the bed – sometimes two. Yikes! Where does the time go? We thought it would be a few months tops. Says a lot about why don’t have three or four children, huh!

This past week Kiley has slept in her own bed. She and Caden share bunk beds, so her transition has been a snap. I admit that we did bribe her with a “Diego’s Treehouse”, (Dora the Explorer’s cousin for those of you who don’t know) for five days of sleeping on her own and she has done it with flying colors. I’m so proud of her!

So our bed has been a kid free zone for 7 days now. On one hand, it’s been great, no little feet in my back, no little hands smacking me in the head and (I know this sounds gross) no “accidents” greeting us in the morning. But I have to admit, I’ve missed Kiley’s snoring, her hugging my arm while I sleep and her squishy tummy and angelic smiles when she is having a great dream.

Our new bedtime ritual utilizes the ex-family bed in a new way, a wrestling ring. No matter what anyone is doing or wherever they are in the house, when Caden calls, “Last one in bed is rotten loser!” at around 8:30 p.m. we all come running in hoping not to be last one in for that poor individual is promptly dog-piled upon and tickled. It has been so fun and the kids look forward to it.

I miss their cuddly, sweet smelling baby selves in my bed, but wrestling and laughing together sure has been a nice replacement. I have the bruises to prove it.

Hope

Five years.

No, it can't be . . .has it been that long since it happened? Wow.

I was really taken by surprise a few weeks ago when I began to see the references to this year's 9/11 anniversary. I knew it had been a while, but if someone had asked me how long ago it took place, my initial thought would be, two maybe three years ago . . .? It was so other and defining that it inhabits a very recent place in my mind. The only other event that has affected me as much was the Northridge Earthquake of 1994. Incredibly scary, but so different. One was an act of nature, and what took place on 9/11 was concocted, planned and carried out by men. Not just done by man, but specifically planned to target fellow man, and to bring about tremendous amounts of pain and suffering.

Five years ago today, I was actually sleeping-in. I had recently quit my job in hopes that we would be able to conceive a child. (Quiting the job would be a good stress-reducer). My sister's phone call was my alarm clock and after her inital hello the first thing she said to me was, "are you watching TV?". I was instantly shocked, horrified and completely saddened by the image on the screen. It's the one we probably all have etched in our brains - both towers have back smoke pouring out of them and a good portion of NYC is being engulfed by those ominous clouds. We had been attacked.

My adult mind had never even conceived that I would be reacting to an attack of that magnitude on American soil. In the midst of my grief, sadness and terror I immediately thought of Pearl Harbor. Then the rest of the day is blur of watching the news, understanding the full scale of what had been planned, and figuring out what to do next. Many phone calls were made to family and friends, just to touch base and hear the voice of loved ones.

My role as a mother had not even begun. In fact, in the weeks after it all happened I considered what kind of a world would a little one be brought into. Should I even consider having children if this type of thing (and worse) is what they might be facing? As it all happened, I did have the privilege of becoming a mom, and my little guy was brought into this world in the mid-morning hours of December 19, 2002. Even though 9/11/01 was the tremendous tragedy it was, hope was not extinguished. Not only did I have a child, but it is speculated that a bit of a baby boom happened in the months after. My son is actually part of a wave of children that were conceived within the 6 months after it happened. I also remember reading something about more folks deciding to tie the knot as well.

I'm sure my son's generation will face some sort of national tragedy in his lifetime - man-made or otherwise. The implication of "Never Forget" can be profound. Not only to never forget what happened, but that we will never forget how we handled the situation, and that, ultimately, hope prevailed. We faced, and continue to face, an enemy in terrorism that can strike at any time, any place and with civilians as the target. In light of the continued threat, we continue to live, to plan, to have faith in God, to dream and to hope. The legacy to our children will be that we continued to raise the next generation and to prepare them for whatever the future might hold.

Earth Angel

Ode to a Mother's Helper

One of the brightest ideas I had all summer

was to call 'Moe (Jeep's name for her) and ask her

to become an honorary family member

She gains babysitting experience with mom around

(plus $3.50 an hour)

and I get extra hands and help with

shopping trips and summer concerts

Once a week under her care

all the board books return to the shelf

the tupperware to the cupboard

and the toys to their baskets

Baby boy giggles erupt from the living room

while I put dinner on the table

Stories of sixth grade entertain us and

our wacky family antics amuse her in return

Oh happy day

today is Thursday

and Casi's on her way!

Car shopping with children

My husband is car shopping. He has decided that since it will be the car he’ll have for the next ten years it better be good. My husband, the forever wannabe surfer, has decided that he needs a car that says something about his “style”. I love this man and have known him for over 14 years and to this day I’m not quite sure he’d even had a “style”.

Regardless, me, J and the 2 kids have hit the car lots this weekend with a vengeance determined to find a family friendly car that has some style. J has ruled out mini-vans, despite all my begging, because “no self respecting man should be seen driving a mini-van”. We’ve also ruled out all uber–large SUVs – no Esclades or Expeditions. No Camrys or Accords because of J’s style issues – heck, who cares about reliability when you can look cool??

I think we may have settled on a Toyota FJ Cruiser. Our cheesy and absolutely out of touch sales associate sold us on how cool it was that it was so "industrial" - after all we could simply hose out the back after one of our many hunting excursions. The doors were fairly water tight so that when we were crossing rivers, we'd be safe. Yes, that's us the "hunting family"! Not! Hunting to us is going to a Farmer's market rather than our local grocery. Geez. This car is so unpractical - but it is better than the convertibles J has his heart set on.

Blog Mamas is typically focused on mommas and our trials and tribulations, but I thought our car shopping experience were pertinent because I forget that men have many of the same challenges in balancing their self image with what the rest of the world thinks of daddies.

I struggle on a daily basis figuring out how to maintain some kinda career, yet work part-time or at home. I balance soccer schedule and worry about whether we chose the right schools and yikes, is the Tiger Cubs ice cream social tonight? I drive kids to karate lessons and have conversations with girlfriend about how we can have it all – great part-time careers, fantastic kids and excitingly romantic rendevous with our partners. I know that I come from a privilege – not only from other women, but from many men too.

J, just doesn’t get the luxury of debating part time or not. He being an engineer and recent MBA will always make more money than me – a non-profit fundraiser. He really couldn’t handle volunteering for the school rummage sale and unfortunately, I don’t think he and his friends have conversations about how being a daddy changes you and how it should change your car choices. Don’t get me wrong, J is a wonderful father and husband. He is the first to go without to ensure that our kids keep wearing soccer cleats and me in highlights. So if purchasing a car helps him process those issues of wanting to be a cool hip dad that rolls up to baseball practice in a cool car and not a boring sedan, then so be it. I guess we mourn our “past images of our self” and our “twisted memories” of what life used to be like pre-kids in our own ways. I fantasize about the jeans I used to be able to wear.

Were we really that cool pre-Baby Bjorn? If we didn't have kids right now would we be climbing the Rubicon Trail or crossing river beds in our cool car? I don’t think so… but I guess we can pretend to with car seats in the back.

Thoughts on Tipping this Labor Day

I’m--what I think--a good tipper. I consistently tip 20%--to the hairdresser, at the nail salon, and even more at restaurants, if we leave a significant mess behind (which is often the case with Ry) and the waiter doesn’t give us a dirty look.

But I’m realizing that THIS IS GETTING ME NOWHERE. I don’t get better service from being a good tipper. My last two hairdressers have both canceled on me three times each in the last six months, despite me consistently tipping 20%, which is a hefty sum, considering I’m paying for a cut and highlight. I know other clients aren’t tipping the same. My sister was shocked to find out how much I tip. And she goes to the same hairdresser and has never been canceled on.

The first inkling I had to leave my former hairdresser of five years was when I arrived 10 minutes late for an appointment and she freaked out because her next client, a male lawyer, was really uptight about punctuality. She was pretty catty with me about it, which surprised me, since over the course of a year, she made roughly $450 a year in services from him and more than $1000 off me in services and another $200 in tips! So tell me, who is the more valuable client? (omigod, that’s the first time I’ve added that up SCARY.) So when she canceled on me so she could go to her sister’s graduation and then rescheduled a week later (the day before I was to leave for my nephew’s wedding) and canceled again because she had strep throat, I finally decided to break up. I don’t expect her to work when she’s sick, but I do expect her to plan her calendar better.

So what’s the deal? Is tipping taken for granted? Am I under tipping??? Has the protocol gone up to 25 or 30% and no one has told me? Or does being a good tipper make me such a sucker that they think, “Oh she’s so nice, she won’t mind if I reschedule.” I also think that here in Silicon Valley where there’s a lot of money floating around people tip well just because they don’t want to be seen as (or acquire a reputation of) being cheap.

This topic has especially been rubbing me, ever since D returned from Japan. He’s been raving about the service he received there where it’s against custom to tip—it’s considered an insult since they take pride in their work and that’s sufficient. I also noticed that when we were in Glacier, most of the workers were foreign. Why? Because the local Montana kids don’t want those jobs and if they do have them, they provide sucky service.

I can’t help but to reflect back to when I waited tables, and I busted my ass. It helped that I lived in a small town and I was on a first-name basis with pretty much everyone who came through the door, but I only made $3.25 per hour and I lived off my tips, which averaged $30-$50 a shift which was pretty darn good considering that was in Idaho in the early 90s and people only tipped 10%, if that. So that’s why I’m good tipper (I know how hard the service jobs can be) but it just seems like today’s workers don’t merit it. Are we living in the age of entitlement? Or is this some skewed perspective I have?