Personal Finance, as Seen by a Seven Year Old

We like to think that we are raising our kids to understand the concepts of earnings, savings, and disposable income.  

Even though my general feeling is that we buy our kids ridiculous quantities of books, toys, and clothes, it still seems like we are constantly saying, "No, we can't get that/do that/go there because it costs too much money."  Once, our kids asked me if we were rich or poor.   We have, on several occasions, explained that we do have plenty of money for the things we need, but we are careful when deciding what to spend our money on.  ("No, we can't buy you every Lego set in Target because we need to spend our money on the mortgage, food, clothes, etc.")

A couple weeks ago Tai demonstrated just how well he has been listening to our lectures about responsible spending.  Over dinner one night Quynh started in with, "You know what I really really really want you to buy me?  A pair of tap shoes!!!"

Minh and I exchanged a quick look that said, "That's the LAST thing we need is her tapping all over the house 24-7," but before either of us could even come up with what to say to her, Tai chimed in: "Quynh, you know Mama and Daddy have to spend their money on more important things, like this house."  And then he added, incredulously, "Do you know they haven't even finished paying for this house yet?"

This began a discussion of mortgages and Tai asked us when we'd be done paying off the house.  When Minh answered "27 years" Tai asked, "Will you even be ALIVE then?"  And then again, before we could answer he added, "You had better show me how [to pay the mortgage] just in case."  This lead to a brief discussion of inherited debt, and life insurance.  Meanwhile, Quynh was sitting there wondering whether she was getting tap shoes.

* * * * * * *

Then, just the other day, the four of us were browsing in a store when Tai spotted the stuffed tiger that would complete his stuffed tiger collection--on sale for only $5!  He had exactly less-than-five-dollars in his wallet, so he asked us to buy it for him. I said no.

I had been feeling fed up with the notion that we always buy something in every store we enter.  I want them to learn to browse and then leave, dammit.  So I put my foot down.  No.Freaking.Way.

Tai whimpered in the back of the car like an injured dog, all the way home.   An hour or so after we got home, we had a little talk about the Damn Stuffed Tiger and how important it was to him and how it was the only one left so by the time he saved up enough money it would surely be gone.  I still refused to pay for it but suggested he do about 50 chores to earn the money he needed (at the usual 5 cents a chore). 

I have never seen him so motivated -- he was seeking out things to clean all evening and then again first thing in the morning.  After breakfast we tallied up the results and saw that he was still $1.80 short.  I was about to say "Tough luck, kiddo, keep doing chores and check the store again tomorrow" when Quynh said, "I have a five dollar bill he can have."

Indeed, she did.  This is the girl who almost never spends the pittance she gets from doing chores, nor the small fortune she gets from her grandparents.  At any given time, she probably has about $45 in her wallet, while Tai usually has about $0.45 because the moment he has saved up $5-$8 he blows it on some trinket.

Not wanting Tai to take advantage of his more frugal sister, we agreed that she could lend him the $1.80, but that he had to pay her back.  Needless to say, his motivation for doing chores dropped dramatically once he had the Tiger in hand.  So Minh insisted on a repayment deadline after which re-possession of the Tiger would occur.

Tai now has a complete Stuffed Tiger Collection and a completely empty wallet.  And his laundry is folded and his room is clean.  And maybe some sort of lesson was learned?  By someone?  Or maybe not.....

* * * * * * *

And finally, on a completely different day, Tai and I had a conversation about childbirth.  (I know, this sounds unrelated, but stay with me).

Tai is very interested in babies and childbirth and frequently asks me to tell him his birth story.  This long-time interest was re-ignited after a recent viewing of the Reading Rainbow episode called, "On the Day You Were Born".  (Which, incidentally, handles the subject frankly yet tactfully).

This time he did not want to hear the whole story of his birth, but had one very particular question for me.  It went something like this: "Mama, when you tell the story of how Quynh and I were born you say that it hurt and that you said 'ow!' but the woman on Reading Rainbow didn't say anything and it didn't seem like it hurt her at all.......why?"

I explained the concept of the epidural and that some women get that "special medicine" and some do not.  As I was telling him that I did not have an epidural I was thinking in the back of my mind that he would be, I don't know, impressed?  But instead of marveling at my ability to birth my babies unassisted by modern medicine, or even asking me why I made that choice, a knowing look spread across his face and he simply stated, "Oh, that special medicine must cost a lot of money."

I Would Make That Sacrifice

For some reason, Tai tends to pick that while-he-should-be-getting-ready-for-bed time of day to ask important questions or dump a load of new information on me. A couple times he has chosen tooth brushing time to suddenly give me all the dirt on his classmates -- who the best readers are, who teases who, and who gets sent to the Principal's office.  Maybe this is just a bedtime stalling tactic?  Well, when the topic is interesting enough it totally works.


Tonight as he stepped up to the sink to brush his teeth he announced, "I want to join the USA Army when I grow up."


Now, I am absolutely not going to start any pro or con military talk here.  But I think it is probably a very rare mother who would want her child fighting on the front lines.  Could I be proud of my child for choosing that career?  Of course. Would I rather him be an accountant?  Hell yes.


Anyway, trying not to sound alarmed by Tai's sudden announcement, I inquired what, specifically, he liked about the idea of joining the army. We talked briefly about the different jobs one could do in the army and Tai indicated he wanted to be, "a soldier who fights in war."  I asked if this was just because he wants to use a gun (figuring this was our payback for not letting him have violent toys) and he answered back with, "No, it is because I want to protect my country and my family."


Have I mentioned he's only seven? And living in the peace-loving hippy-dippy Pioneer Valley? Where did he get that language?


I tried the old, "Well you have to be 18 to join so you have plenty of time to decide" and, "Daddy and I will be proud of you no matter what job you choose because we know you will work hard and do your best," tactic. But he wasn't done with this conversation.


Even though I said nothing anti-military, he launched into a little persuasive speech, complete with detailed examples: "I would try to solve problems with words first, Mama, but sometimes there is just no other choice but to fight. .....the problem is.....if we fight them we might kill them."


I couldn't help but interject, "And they might kill you. "


"I know," he said, "but I would be willing to make that sacrifice."


And then he continued on with the example that I had apparently interrupted: "But, Mama, the problem is if, say Japan, is trying to take over our country and we have no choice but to fight them, we might kill them. But then the problem is this would just make them more mad and they would want to fight us more."


My attempt to take his Japan example and use it to show him why he should not hit back when his sister hits him failed spectacularly. He would not lose sight of the original topic of conversation.   But we did get to learn the word "escalate."


Feeling like he really needed to make me see just how dedicated he is, he gave another example. "If someone was trying to take over all of North America and make there be Unfair Rules, and we were really losing bad, I would sacrifice myself so we could win.  I would let them kill me.  I am not lying, Mama. "


By this time, we had made our way into his room for a bedtime story and Quynh came to join us.  I read, and Tai stared off into the distance all through bedtime story and then asked me to write a note reminding us to pick this conversation up again tomorrow.


Quynh also wanted me to write a note to remind us to discuss her future career.  As a ballerina.

Turtle Talk

I have been taking an undergraduate computer science class so I can learn to program in Python.  I am loving it and sometimes in the middle of class I totally get everything the professor is saying and I think, "Damn, I missed my calling and I should have majored in computer science in college."  Other days the professor starts talking about radians and sine and cosine and I realize that a whole MAJOR in computer science is pretty math-y and I think, "Screw this, Thank God I didn't major in this in college."  

Anyway, a couple weeks ago we were given the homework assignment to write a Turtle Graphics Program.  This is the Logo language stuff where the kids type in a command and make a turtle move across the screen, turn left and right, and draw a picture.    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logo_(programming_language)

Anyone know what I am talking about?  I totally used a program like this in the 1980's, in 3rd or 4th grade.  It was my very first introduction to using a computer.  Actually, I thought that was all computers were used for--to draw little pictures of hexagons and stuff.  Not long after that, when my family purchased a Real Home Computer.   I remember being shocked that we got a printer too; that seemed like such an unnecessary luxury to me.  I think I even said, "Wow, so when I make pictures on the screen I'll be able to print them out?"  Little did I know my parents expected me to do more with that machine than just Turtle Graphics.      

And now, 30 years later, I was being asked to write the interpreter that translates the kid's command of  "fd 200" in Logo language to make the turtle actually move forward 200 pixels.  How cool is that?  So I wrote the program and was feeling So Proud and dying to show it to someone who would appreciate it.

And then the most amazing coincidence ever occurred.  Tai came home from first grade this past Monday and I asked, "What did you do in computer class today?  (Yes, they have computer class starting in kindergarten now).  And he said "Oh!  It was cool, we talked to a turtle on the screen.  I typed stuff in and made the turtle move!"

HOLY CRAP!  So of course I pulled up my program and let him play with it for 20 minutes.  It was so cool to be able to do that.  Too bad he could not appreciate all the programming (not to mention the trigonometry) I had to do to make it work.  And of course he kept telling the turtle to move forward more than 7,000 pixels when the graphics window I made was only 600 x 700.  Kids, man.  They find a way to break everything.

New Developmental Milestone

Recently, Quynh has been a bit extra-emotional and more prone to tantrums that usual.  Last week we had a horrible drawn-out, tear-filled drop-off at preschool that all started over a picture she asked me to draw her before I left for work.  Prior to that, we had this nice little ritual where I'd outline a silly picture on paper before I left and she'd happily color it in and show it to me at the end of the day.

But last week that all fell apart when the picture I drew was Not.Quite.Right. so she ripped it up and asked me to start over.  And when I refused she flipped out.  For 20 minutes.  So I vowed not to draw her pictures at school anymore if it's going to cause drama.

This morning I brought her into school, said hello to her teacher and friends, and hugged her goodbye.  As I went to leave she said, "I want you to draw me a picture."

No way was I falling for that game again. Nuh-uh.  No sir.  So I calmly said, "No, I don't do that anymore because it can make you upset."  (And inside I was thinking, "Oh, no, here it comes, she's going to scream and I have to get to work......what do I do?")

But instead of screaming she looked at me with just a hint of malice in her eyes explained, "If you don't draw me a picture I'm just going to start throwing a tantrum."

Wow.  What a complete and total understanding of power and threats.  Any sympathy I might have had for her if she had started to cry vanished the moment she verbalized her intentions.  So I called her on it.  I said, "Threats won't work with me. "  And I turned around and left.  

And I didn't hear a peep out of her.

Stranded

Lately, during dinner, we have been playing little games.  For a while it was either Twenty Questions or I-Spy, but Tai's new favorite is "NameYourFive(IMeanSixIMeanSeven)FavoriteMoviesI'llGoFirst!"

That was cute the first time, but then he wanted to do it daily.  And my favorite movies don't change that often.  So, in an attempt to change the subject a bit, one night I posed this question:

If you were going to be stranded on a deserted island and could only bring three things, what would you bring?

This is the kind of game I recall playing as a kid, though I was perhaps a bit older than T and Q are now.  I feel like the logical response to this question is to (a) ask lots of clarifying questions about the island and what exists there, and then (b) list some items to bring that will help you survive (matches, a hatchet, food, warm clothing, duct tape, etc.)

Since Tai and Quynh are only 6 and 4, and have never played this game before, and have never even seen Cast Away, I had absolutely no idea how they would respond.  But of course, they managed to surprise and amaze me.

Quynh's response was thoughtful but swift:
1. Chocolate
2. My Family
3. My house and everything in it

She gets extra points for totally thinking outside the box about what a "thing" is.

I can't exactly recall what Tai's first two items were, though I think he adopted Quynh's "my family" line after seeing it elicit a big, "Awwwww" from me.  But his third item sticks out in my mind:

"My school.  And everyone in it."  (Because otherwise he wouldn't get to learn stuff and get smarter, was the sentiment.)

Then they turned the question on me.  But after hearing their answers, my usual ideas seemed absurdly un-imaginative.

Soon enough Tai was making up his own versions of the game.  I particularly liked, "If you were going to be in a hot air balloon for a week and could only bring 6 things what would they be?"  This brought about an animated discussion between Tai and Minh about weight considerations and whether you really need to bring something to pee in, or can you just pee over the side of the basket.....

We might need some new dinner games.

The other day, the kids and I somehow got on the topic of what to do if they ever got lost.  I suggested they could always ask a police officer for help getting home, or finding their parents.  I checked to make sure both kids know their home address.

But then Quynh said, "Wouldn't I have to tell the police officer what my parents look like, so they could find you?" I couldn't resist, so I said, "Sure.  What would you tell them?"

"That my daddy has spiny hair.  And brown skin.  As dark as the skin of a potato."

Perfect.

Getting By On Her Good Looks

On July fourth our kids took part in a quaint little small-town bicycle parade, complete with watermelon, kiddie games, children dressed up as the Declaration of Independence, and prizes for the best decorated bikes. 

Two days prior, I went to Michael's Crafts and bought appropriately themed decor for them to tactfully affix to their bikes and helmets under my close supervision.  And then 10 minutes after I got the stuff home Tai had already used 3 pounds of painter's tape, and had flags and pinwheels taped to each other, dangling off the handlebars.  Sometimes basic physics escapes him.  Not to mention artistry.

But, he pretty much did it himself and was absolutely beaming with pride at the finished product, insisting he take it for a spin around the neighborhood to try it out.  His bike was adorned with garland, pinwheels, flags and sparkly ribbon.  He was totally fixated on the idea that he might actually win a prize for his efforts.    

Quynh, on the other hand, went for the whole less-is-more thing, but not in a classy way -- more like in a lazy way. She also insisted on doing it all herself, which meant she did not use the awesome garland I attempted to wrap around the frame of her trike.  Her decorations consisted of flags on the handlebars and two tiny amounts of ribbon wound here and there around the frame.  Very minimalist.

The fourth was disgustingly hot and humid, even at 9:30am, but the kids had a really fun time riding around in the middle of the street.  Quynh was just there for the pure fun of it, but Tai was preoccupied with winning.  He kept asking where the judges were and when the prizes would be handed out.  

This little parade took itself very seriously, categorizing entrants into bikes, trikes, scooters, and costumes, and splitting each group by gender.  Prizes were given for the "best" in each of these groups.  And the competition was stiff.  There were bikes and trikes so thoroughly decorated you could not see an inch of the underlying vehicle.  Some had balloons, some even had flashing lights.  As we stood there, melting in the heat, listening to them announce the winners, I was hoping for Tai to win and very pleased that Quynh didn't seem to even know what was going on--until they called her up for "best girls trike".

What?

She barely decorated it at all!  What about the trikes with streamers and garland and shiny stars?  Maybe the judges were rewarding Quynh for so obviously having done the decorating all by herself, when all the other little kids clearly had parental help?   Nah, I am pretty sure she won just because she is so darned cute.  It probably didn't matter what she was riding.    

Of course I was happy for her.  But I felt kind of awkward about it too, especially since Tai did not win in the boys bike category (where the competition was more serious).  He had put in so much more time and effort than his sister, yet she won a prize.  I guess we file this one under Life Lesson #17 -- shit ain't always fair.