Next Stop, Reality TV

What does it mean when someone sends you a link to an open casting call for a reality TV show?

I wonder because I got an email from a friend a few days ago, with a forwarded casting call for different moms to appear in a new reality TV show.  The email had the subject line, TV Opportunities, and my friend’s personal note above the body of email was “Thought of you guys!  Maybe you are interested?”

The first thing that comes to mind is that maybe this friend, who does not have children of her own, just thinks that every mom is in-freakin’-sane, based on the mouthful she gets from each of us every time we talk.  Speaking for myself, I usually have diarrhea of the mouth when we get together with her, as I’ve usually been devoid of adult conversation for hours or days on end, and the jumble of words that comes out in conversation touches on issues like naptime, homework, preschool snack, and annoying entitled parents.  It sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher….wah wah wah wah wah wah.  Honestly, if I didn't have kids of my own and was on the outside looking in at today’s overly protective, over-scheduling mothers, I know with absolute certainty I would think the same thing!  For crying out loud, I AM a mom, and I think that now. 

My second thought about the reality TV show suggestion was that she was just trying to connect the dots and hook people up with opportunities.  This particular friend is not only a generally caring and network-positive person, but she also used to have the dream of wanting to be a soap star.  From the time I met her about 20 years ago, and throughout the next decade, during which we were roomies for a few years, she followed her goal by attending college for acting and TV, hung out with the prerequisite artsy fartsy folks, and even moved to Los Angeles after graduation to be more available to audition for her “stories.”  Conversely, ever since she’s known me, I wanted to be famous, not as a soap star, but as the next Oprah Winfrey talk show host.  So maybe she keeps up with the TV opportunities for herself, even though she lives back in Chicago now and works in the academia world, and just thought the series might be a vehicle to my onetime quest for fame and passed the info along.

Or, it could mean that my life as a gay mom to two girls and a partner/almost wife to my girlfriend, and the life we lead in the middle of a completely straight, yet totally open community, is like a circus.  Maybe it's just a circus to her because she doesn't have kids, or is no longer gay, as she once used to think she was.  OR maybe she knows lots of moms and I'm the only one whose real-life stories sound like a dumbed-down mom-version of Mob Wives, with all the kid-fights and trials and tribulations of parenthood, and I'm Big Ang, the over-the-top character who in no way can be taken seriously.  I'm dramatic and I embellish my stories to others.

In fact, I heard my 10-year-old point out to my partner just this week that, “’Little Mama’ tends to reword or rework the stories she tells describing real events that took place to make a different version that's more interesting.”

Um, smart kid.  Maybe she's the reason my family would make a good reality family.

Or maybe we’d be a good TV family because I've never heard of a ‘Big Mama’ and a’ Little Mama’ as heads of household on a TV show before.

Or maybe she forwarded the opportunity because she thought it would be a good fit for me and she’s giving me a compliment, as it calls for “moms with big TV personalities, but know how to keep their family in line.”

Whatever the case, it made me stop and laugh, and of course consider if I could find a way to get my girlfriend to sign off on having her life documented in a reality TV show, and trade my staunch opposition to exploiting young children for the purpose of fame for their signatures on the dotted line.

Today is the Day

My aversion to information is born out of my radio days, some 15+ years ago, when I hosted and produced morning-drive talk radio programs.  Sounds exciting right?  It was, hands down.  I loved every minute of working in radio.  For a few years of my early 20's, I would get up at 2:30 am every weekday morning, commute to the radio station to arrive by 4am, pull fresh stories off the AP wire and other notable sources, quickly rewrite them, and either deliver the news myself or else use the tidbits to spark discussion with co-hosts or callers. 

After a few years, I switched gears and moved into real estate, where I kept abreast of the industry-specific trends and how they related to the world at large, but I never again subscribed to a newspaper, listened to news on the radio or TV,  nor listened to talk radio.  It's as if I was just burnt out on information from the media.Over the years, I've gotten the occasional bug to take a whole morning and read the Tribune cover-to-cover or get sucked into a 20/20 episode, but I have literally made it a point NOT to suck up information if it's at all humanly possible.

Fast forward to a pair of impressionable young minds living in my own household.  Yes, I've kept up with most issues over the years by default of conversation from my girlfriend, parents, and friends, which then motivates me to look up specific points or data on the topics just so I can talk on point.  But I don't read about or get involved with politics, local, national, or world issues, unless I'm hit over the head with it or unless a headline from the Redeye sparks my attention.

Traditionally, I'm not a big activist for anything.  I hold a lot of opinions and am not afraid at all to share them, but nine times out of ten, when sharing opinions, it initiates debate that usually sheds light on new perspectives or facts that I hadn't previously considered, which thereby alters my opinions.  You see I rarely jump on board a major issue train unless I'm fully educated on the topic, and I am not fully educated on most things, unless, like Marriage Equality, they specifically pertain to me or someone I know.

The gay marriage issue was a no-brainer for me, since I've been in a committed relationship with my girlfriend for the past fourteen years.  We have two kids together, we jointly own property and investments, and we're considered 'married' by everyone we know, even those that politically may not agree with Marriage Equality.  Marriage Equality needed to be legislated, in my opinion.

I had no plans on getting involved, though, in the fight.  The invitation came from friends.  First it was the invite from a neighbor to the Marriage Equality fundraiser at a local bar I'd been wanting to try out.  Then it was the request from another friend who is also a gay parent, that urged me to take my girls out of school and join her in a day-trip to the Illinois capital city to participate in the March on Springfield and rally in support of Marriage Equality. 

After we got home late that evening, I realized that I had exposed my kids to standing up for something bigger than themselves.  I had shown them the example of how to make a difference and be part of a solution.  No matter what happened with the issue, and I honestly had no clear indication of how it would play out, I knew I wanted my kids to be educated on things that matter from here on out.

The bill passed and we're now planning a wedding for late summer, in which our kids will take part.  The issue was pretty much of a non-issue for our girls.  They never understood why we couldn't get married anyway, as they are being raised in a time period, and in a geographical location and community where kids don't see a problem with kids having 2 moms instead of a mom and dad.  They're also around lots of adults who mostly feel the same way, but even if they didn't, are uber-PC and wouldn't say anything otherwise to make our kids feel bad about having 2 moms.  It's just the way it is.  My oldest even gave a current-events speech at school on the Illinois Marriage Equality issue, one in which I drilled her in preparation for all sorts of protests or at least debate she may encounter with the issue.  She got nothing.

Conversely, we're heading to Dallas in March for a gay wedding, or actually just a reception, as the guys had to get married in another state, since Texas legislation prohibits marriage equality.  My girls don't understand why their moms can get married here, but our good friends can't get married in Texas.

"It doesn't make any sense," my 5-year-old logically stated.


Nope.  It doesn't.  My 10-year-old had a bit of an answer for her little sister, in that it was a state-by-state decision.  She had learned this from her research on Illinois gay marriage.  What she hadn't learned, though, was that the issue was still in the forefront of US history, being hashed out state by state, since it was passed here.  I had seen the Facebook posts and headline updates on yahoo, but I'd never once thought to share the information with my kids.  I'd never once thought that it might be important to them, or that it would affect people we know.

I realized that I hadn't kept my promise of educating myself and my kids further on issues that not only affect us, but on issues that simply have a clear side for us to stand on. While it's great that my daughter was able to fill in the blanks for my little one, as she can seek out issues and news on her own now, it became apparent to me that I need to start taking a more active role in the news and issues of our day, so that I can not only be knowledgeable myself, but also so that I can help answer questions and/or debate issues with my very-informed children, and be knowledgeable enough to help them form their own opinions.

So, today is the day I draw a line in the sand regarding what's important. Today, I vow to pull myself up by my bootstraps and get back on that horse.  Today is the day I pull my head out of the sand and get up to speed on what's going on in this world.  I can't promise I'll debate the issues or even have an interest in much of what I learn, but I do promise to be aware from this day forward.

Any suggestions on where to start? 

I Think She's Got It

When your kids start deciphering for themselves that they don't want to play with the kids that aren't nice to them or other people, it's a beautiful thing.  All the years of making decisions on behalf of them and trying to coax them to speak, act, and behave in a way that is respectful to themselves and others, and also to expect thoughtful behavior from others, has paid off. 

Now I realize that the cards can fall either way, depending on the day, the child, and the circumstances.  However, the first time I heard my daughter say, "I don't care" when I extended an offer for a playdate with one of her friends, I realized that my child had taken a stand, even if just for one day, and I was proud.  She didn't go into detail, or try to explain what I already knew was transpiring, through witnessing interactions with her friend and my daughter or with her friend and other adults, including her own parents and teachers.  My kid didn't stoop to gossiping.  She just indicated that it didn't matter to her, which is code for, no thank you.

My eldest is a super social kid and if she had her choice, she would have playdates 7 days a week.  Super close friends, mild acquaintances, neighbors across the street, or new kids at school, she's a sucker for any social opportunity that presents itself.  But she's also a big believer in showing consideration for others.  She treats all people, her friends, her family, her teachers, the people she meets on the street, with kindness and compassion.  She feels most comfortable when the people around her do the same.  While she gives most kids the benefit of the doubt when they're having an off day, assuming that they, like she, sometimes forget to use their manners, she often will remind them of such.

I noticed over the past few weeks, though, that she had reached her limit with one little friend, and that the relationship was heading toward a hiatus.  I decided to take an inactive approach and not try to steer her in any specific direction as she shared with me her disappointment in her friend's words and actions, but just to listen to her process aloud the problem she was encountering with her friend.  We simply reviewed the issues with said friend and compiled a list together of her options.  She could a) ignore the disrespectful behavior and continue on with her friendship; b) mention to the friend that her behavior is rude to those around her and ask her to change the behavior; or c) walk away or disengage from the relationship.

I didn't think much else about the conversation, as I remember going through friendship drama myself as a girl, and know that these things ebb and flow:  today a friend, tomorrow a foe, and next week a bestie.  Additionally, I know that no story has simply one side.  My kiddo could be creating part of the problem as well.

Then recently my younger daughter, who likes to hang with the big dogs and who is traditionally tough as nails, even with kids twice her age, came crying to me, complaining that the same friend was making fun of her and being mean.  I didn't think much of it until I saw my older daughter's face.  The deadpan stare right through me said it all, after witnessing the interaction.

I still didn't know how it all would play out, as my older daughter, while loyal to the end of the earth, has a hard time with speaking up for herself, and even more of an issue with confrontation.  But when the invitation for a playdate days later was not acknowledged in the usual manner by my daughter, of running to get her shoes on, but instead not even glancing up for her craft project with her little sister, I knew a line had been drawn in the sand.  This was her way, just for today, just for this minute, to take control of a situation she's not pleased with.

Maybe tomorrow the girls will be back to being best buds.  Maybe not.  But for today, I think she's got the right idea!  Kudos, Sweet Girl.

Lose the Attitude

Yah, yah, it’s the holiday season and everyone is crazy busy planning holiday parties, gifts, greetings, and travel, while bells are ringing everywhere you go and the weather is cold, grey, and miserable.  This does not mean you’ve got a free pass to wear an attitude throughout your day because you are so busy and overwhelmed.  If fact, this is the best time of the year to lose the ‘tude, as people really need a break from your snarky comments and your perfunctory ‘I don’t have time to even look your way right now’ glare as you hustle past them in your car or in your heels, or God forbid, Uggs.  Think this could apply to you?  Then keep reading.  Think of it this way…if you lose the attitude for just one day, or even just one hour, in the name of making someone’s day better, you might end up just making your own day better.  It may be a pipe dream, but there’s always wishing that you may just make enough of a difference that you change the way you live altogether.  Cart.  Horse.  Baby steps.

Today my world was slightly tinted by a small change I made in my own presentation to society at large, quite by accident, I must admit.  It started innocently enough with the normal daily flurry of activity….early-morning lunches, lessons, breakfast, drop-off, exercise and shower.  But then I took my 5-year-old with me on an errand to my new favorite store, Hot Mama, in Evanston. 

The clothing store and its employees have changed my view on shopping over the past few months.  Not a shopper by nature, and further more not a clothes shopper at all, as it’s been difficult my entire life, to find clothes that fit me well, due to my height (or lack thereof) and fluctuating weight, I was referred to the store by a friend after telling her how hard it is to find clothes.  I had taken her advice and visited the store last month, where my wardrobe and attitude toward life was given an overhaul by the competent, but not pushy sales staff.  The “I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and say something looks good on you if it doesn’t, but I will get you flawlessly clothed and feeling like Pretty Woman” attitude of the first salesperson I encountered converted me instantly.  I walked out $700 lighter in the pocket, but feeling like I had won the lottery, as the Hot Mamas not only routed me toward clothes that actually fit my own body, but also taught me what to look for in garments that would fit me well and serve as staples in my wardrobe.  I’ve felt like a million bucks ever since. 

Unfortunately, I had discovered a small hole in one of the shirts I had purchased last month, so I went in to try and get a new shirt.  I’d already worn the shirt with the imperfection, and had found, when I took it off, in addition to the hole, a series of grease stains on the front of the shirt, probably from the once-a-year purchase of real bacon, that I had fried up earlier that morning.  I was worried about returning the shirt as it was stained, but I also knew I had paid a pretty penny for a shirt with a hole in the fabric.  I was not looking forward to the exchange.  The salesperson at Hot Mama apologized for the inconvenience, unsuccessfully looked for a replacement shirt off the rack, and then arranged for a new one to be delivered to my home from another store, all with a big smile while interacting with my preschooler.  End of story.  Pleased that my issue was handled so efficiently and kindly, I left the store in a great mood, ready to tackle the 12 other things on my list that needed to get done in the next 3 hours, fully knowing there was only time for 8 of them. 

The next three tasks seemed to “fall off the bone,” if you will, and I was well on my way to accomplishing my errands.  The next stop involved street parking in Lincoln Park around lunchtime, where I came upon a gem of a space right in front of the building I needed to visit.  As I got out of the car, I noticed a delivery truck with its hazards on parked right in front of me with less than two feet of space between his back overhead door and the front of my car.  Before I had a chance to consider the implications of me parking so close behind the truck, the driver ran out from inside a nearby storefront, which was to receive a large delivery from the truck.  The delivery driver pointed out that he wouldn’t be able to put the ramp down from the back of the truck, and therefore wouldn’t be able to unload his goods, and asked me to move my car.  Glancing at the Pay to Park sign above my car, I quickly tried to figure out a solution to the dilemma of both of us needing the parking space I was currently and legally occupying.  I was within 2 minutes of being late to my appointment and knew I would never find another parking space close-by, if at all.  I also knew me staying put would cause the driver undue problems with both his delivery and his day.  After conversing back and forth for a few minutes with the driver, each of us making suggestions that the other party take action, he finally spotted a parking spot across the street that had just been vacated.   We locked eyes, as if to say, “Let’s do this thing!”  Without a word, he walked into the street, held 2 directions of traffic up, and directed me into a u-turn right into the parking space.  I got out of the car and screamed a high-five to him and praised him for being a rain-maker.  I ran into my appointment just in the nick of time with a smile on my face.

After my appointment, I walked down to my favorite bagel shop for a coveted everything bagel-thin sandwich for the road.  I don’t usually dine out and hardly ever eat bagels, so I was pumped for the treat, but disappointed to find that there were none left in the display case. 

“There’s more in the oven,” the cashier answered in response to my heartbroken gaze into the case where the everything bagels usually sit.  “They’ll be out in 3 minutes.”

To be honest, any other time, I would, without a doubt, proclaim in that same situation that I didn’t have time to wait, and rush out of the store in a sprint to get back to my meter that was due to expire any minute.  Today, though, the good vibes being sent to me all day allowed me to sit tight for a minute and chill. The bagel was taken out of the oven and deemed too hot by the cashier to load the fixins of a sandwich onto, which might have crushed me to the core on another day, as I like it just so. 

“No worries,” I heard myself say, “I’ll just take the hot bagel.”

Cha-chang

"I gave you a discount for the wait,” she whispered to me before ringing up my purchase.

Thank you Einstein’s! 

I sauntered to my car with 5-minutes to spare on the meter, and headed home to dress the bagel into what I now am considering ‘the best bagel sandwich ever made.’  And all of that was just this morning.  Imagine what I’ve got to look forward to tonight!

When I woke up this morning with a slight bit of trepidation toward the ridiculous amount of junk I had scheduled into my day, I truly didn’t expect such a smooth go of it.  In fact, my experience has led me to somewhat expect, in true Debi-Downer form, that the more I have to do, the more people and places I have to touch, allowing more opportunities for clogs in my day.  But sitting here nine hours later, having floated through my day without effort, drama, or stress, or a negative interaction with anyone, I have to wonder, could I do this every day?  Is it so unlikely to expect that things could actually go my way on a regular basis?

Of course that unrealistic to expect!  But it is NOT out of the realm of possibility to anticipate that I can respond to little wrinkles and bigger issues that I encounter with more positivity and patience and less haste and attitude, thereby setting the bar for the response I’d like to get from all other people I encounter each day. 

So next time Mariah Carey is belting out that annoyingly catchy “All I Want for Christmas” from the reception area in the dentist’s office for the 2nd time in your one-hour wait for your root canal, don’t clench your jaw and promise yourself you will have someone’s job if you’re not called back into the chair within 60 seconds. 

Instead, take a deep breath and sing along or tap your foot along to the music, and look the hygienist in eye when she finally calls you back, and give her the warmest smile you’ve got in your bag o’ tricks and say, “Thank you for fitting me in.  Have a great day!”

By exhaling some positive energy, you can break the attitude you’ve been carrying around and set the stage for the type of energy you’d like to receive back in your day. 

In the Wrong

Mistakes happen.  We’re human.  We screw up.  We say things we shouldn’t, we renege on promises, and we take action without fully considering the ramifications.  Sometimes we hurt ourselves and sometimes we hurt others. It’s a part of life that hits each and every one of us because we’re simply not perfect.  

When you make a mess, though, there is a fool-proof way to clean it up. I won’t say it’s easy, because it’s not, but it is usually effective.  Follow this four-step process and you’ll be better for the wear.

1.    Acknowledge your wrongdoing.

Don’t candy coat it.  Don’t make excuses for yourself.  Simply admit to yourself that you’ve made a bad judgment call.    You did something wrong.  If you can’t be honest with yourself and admit your fault on this first step, then you better have a good ‘ol 'Come to Jesus' talk with yourself and get your house in order, especially in regards to the old school right and wrong.  Just because you screwed up, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.  You're simply a person that made a bad choice.

2.    Apologize.

If you hurt someone or something in the process of your mistake, own your error and personally apologize.  Be clear and concise, i.e. “I did ______ and it resulted in  _______ and I’m sorry.”  Don’t use the word ‘but’ in your apology, as it lessens the impact, or can negate the apology altogether, such as “I’m so sorry I interrupted your performance by leaving in the middle of your number, but I was running late.”  Don’t be a pansy about the apology either, as it will come across as not an apology at all, i.e. “I’m sorry you feel like I was a selfish.”  Instead, own your shit and say, “I’m sorry I was an insensitive partner/friend/daughter/husband.”  A true apology includes both an admission of guilt, as well as an asking for forgiveness, so end your confession with a sincere request for absolution, such as, “Will you forgive me?”  This part is key as it opens the door of communication and lets the person know he has a choice in how he decides to proceed.  It also leaves you in a vulnerable state, which can actually be helpful in curbing the urge to make that same mistake in the future.

3.    Fix It.

Whether the apology is accepted or not, if there’s a wrong that can be righted by an action you take, by all means do it.  You left the store without paying for the frozen turkey in the bottom of your cart….go back in and pay for it!  You spoke too soon on telling your child she can have a dog before completely  researching the option….do the research and give your child the educated answer she deserved the first time.  You made the same mistake of gossiping about someone for the umpteenth time...examine the real problem of why this makes you feel good about talking about other people and fix the root condition.  This is just doing the right thing.  Follow your conscience and your heart and do what feels right.  It’s 50/50 whether the fixing will truly benefit the wronged, but it’s 100% proven that the fixing step will help fix your soul and force you to think in terms of what I like to call “clean living,” which means doing your best to do the right thing all the time, so you have no regrets.  The mistakes are inevitable  The effort to mend the tear in the fabric is a true choice of character.

4.    Move On.

Once you’ve taken responsibility for your actions, forge ahead.  No need to dwell on negativity or beat yourself up over your imprudence.  If you’ve done all you can do, forge ahead and let it go.  If someone can’t forgive your mistake, you have to accept that.  If someone has agreed to accept your apology, this means in theory that they’re going to move on and move forward.  You must do the same or you risk eating yourself alive or deconstructing the relationship with your guilt.  Conversely, if the party accepting or inactively receiving your apology is unable to find peace with the resolution, you have to move on from that person as well to keep your own sanity.

Screwing up stinks.  You feel bad about yourself and your choices, and oftentimes feel upset for the grief you’ve caused others.  Even the most conscientious of people occasionally practices injudiciousness.  Don’t let it define you.  Rise above it and deal with your transgressions head-on by acknowledging, apologizing, fixing, and moving on.  It will help you be a better you and help those you’ve hurt along the way, to properly heal.  

Thanks to the Teachers of the World

In recognition of World Teacher’s Day, my dear friend Margaret posted a lovely tribute on Facebook this morning to the many teachers that have inspired her over the years.  She acknowledged teachers we both loved, some I had forgotten about, and others that we did not share in instruction.  She highlighted a few of the nuggets of knowledge she picked up from each.  It comes as no surprise to me that the things she remembers and learned most of each teacher were not necessarily subject material from the class.  A math teacher showing her how to draw a Snoopy out of the number 25 and an English teacher imparting compassion and life lessons:  the things that matter.

 

Repost of Margaret's FB Tribute to Teachers:

"Oct. 5th is World Teacher Day according to Pinterest. So I would like to thank a few teachers that have inspired me along the way. Mrs.Henzi thanks for helping me start loving art by having that coloring contest, Nancy O'Neal Lawrence for making my 3rd grade year so memorable, Miss Emke who taught me to draw snoopy out of the number 25 and made math fun, Miss Abrams who taught me more about life and compassion (miss you Abby Baby) and Becky Booher Kilgore who left me with an A to have her son who later became my student, but I am glad to call her my friend, Professor Parish who took me over seas just through his wonderful teaching of Art History. For Louie Laskowski and Jana Hankins and Donna Ward for being my Mentors and helping me realize that teaching art does have its rewards and for Dave Reynolds and Heather Givans for keeping me inspired during those years at Fulton. I thank all my teachers and teacher friends!"

Teachers have always played a substantial role in my life.  Some register on my radar because of their kindness, the way they disciplined me, the way they inspired me, the wisdom they passed down to me, and the examples they set of the type of person I could be if I wanted to.  Others stood out because they taught me what to expect from the world, how to get ahead of the pack, why to respect my parents, my elders, my everyone, and most importantly, how to practice self-reliance.  Additionally, a very small proportion of my teachers serve as a reminder to me of how NOT to be.  There’s not a single one in the lot that didn’t impress at least one, if not many, very important lessons upon me.

In reminiscing about all of my teachers over the years, the impact they had on me, and the many long-term relationships that were formed with them after classes were over, I began to wonder why I had never acknowledged World Teacher’s Day.  My friend’s FB teacher homage referenced Pinterest as her source of knowledge on the day that was created to highlight world teacher appreciation, assessment, and improvement.  Some quick research on my end showed that UNESCO, The United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization, has been celebrating this teacher recognition day on October 5^th for close to 20 years now.  I have never heard of it or UNESCO.  But that comes as no surprise to me, as I had to also google “Is the United States a member of the United Nations” (sorry Mr. Trager, while you impressed a lot on me, history was not one of them).

Bottom line is that today is a day to be thankful for teachers.  Today is a day to reflect and maybe call upon those teachers that have impacted, molded, and maybe even pissed you off.  Today is a day to remember that your children will grow into their intended being, influenced party by their teachers.  Today is a day to start fresh in your viewpoint and approach toward your kids’ teachers. 

While you may think Mr. Such and Such doesn’t handle discipline well or Mrs. So and So is unorganized, our kids simply remember that Mr. Such and Such loved nature and taught them to be cognizant of our human impact on our environment and that Mrs. So and So tutored them when to draw the fine line of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join em” and count your losses and move on from an issue.  Reading, writing, and arithmetic….all important.  Demonstrating who you want to be and how you want to act and live your life are much more important, and that’s what these kids pick up from their teachers.  We want them to experience all takes on the world, not just the one we hold as parents.  

I don’t remember who taught me that pi is 3.14159 or which teacher broke through my block of improper Spanish verb conjugation, but I do remember who sent me to the principal’s office for being disrespectful, which instructor noticed I liked to sing, and the name of the teacher who called me out for stealing another kid’s snack.  Those teachers taught me humility, a lifetime love of music, and that lying is not part of my value system. Those teachers helped raise me into the human I am proud to be today. 

My childhood friend, who so eloquently honored the teachers in her life, moved on to be a teacher herself.  She has not spent the majority of her life formally teaching art class, but she’s spent her life’s entirety teaching other people, her kids, and her students how to be good people through example.  I know one day she will receive the formal appreciation from her art students that she is now giving to her life-long history of school teachers, but for today, I am her pupil and will express thanks for the impressive reminder of the importance of teachers.

Doing the Right Thing

Keep it simple is my motto in theory.  Over think, over analyze, over do is my practice.  Since my actions don't always resonate with my words, I spend a lot of time reeling myself in.

I have a simple strategy when it comes to my kids' spending:  odds are you don't need it, so don't buy it. Anything they NEED is produced for them by their adoring parents.  Little surprises, treats, and "just because" purchases are few and far between, but they do exist.

My girls are ten and four, and up to this moment, we haven't had too many issues born out of following this edict, even though many of their peers' exist in different spending societies. They don't ask for much and when they do, they're usually not upset at a "no" or "you can save up for that" response. Enter the Family Economy.

I read this great book called The Entitlement Trap: How to Rescue Your Child with a New Family System of Choosing, Earning, and Ownership, as recommended by a fellow parent, friend, and preschool owner. The title got me at the word Entitlement, as those 11 letters call me out from wherever I am and whatever I'm doing and demand that I take a step up to my Soapbox.

Just reading or hearing the word Entitle, which is defined by Webster’s as “to furnish with a right,” makes my heart race and initiates my fight or flight response, as I am dead-set against joining today's society of “me”-based parents that are fostering a crop of mini-“me”-based kids.  Those entitled children will grow into our next generation of entitled adults.  I can’t bear the thought!

The book was simply preaching to the choir with me but I borrowed its idea of a monetary system to use early-on with kids to help them grasp the concept of both personal responsibility and Finance 101, called The Family Economy. While author Richard Eyre targeted 8 years old as the perfect time to start such a lesson, he wrote that younger kids could benefit as well.

My 10-year-old picked right up on it:  you meet your weekly responsibilities and you earn the pre-arranged amount of money, based on the percentage of tasks completed.  The money is then hers to budget as she chooses, after she sets aside her portion for college savings and charity.   The 4-year-old is still working on the basics of remembering to meet her daily responsibilities, such as combing her hair and making her bed, so the money is not accumulating as quickly. She knows she has some money, though, and she's morphed into the worst version of a toddler shopaholic that you can think of.

Picture this:  Target shoe aisle, 5 pair of sparkly flats fanned out in disarray on the floor around my daughter as she furiously tries on the 6th pair, and she's screeching, "I want these.  No, I really want these!  Oh, Mom, this pair is the one I want!"  It's the $19.99 pair of size 12 Hello Kitty glitter ballet flats, not to be confused with the $1.99 pair of flip flops that originally caught my eye and landed us in the shoe department in the first place.

"They are pretty," I say softly, "but it doesn't make sense to spend that much money on something that won't fit by next season since there's only a few weeks left of warm weather to wear them."

"But I have money," she whined. "I can buy them."

"You didn't bring your money so we don't know how much you have to spend," I coaxed.

"I've got enough," she said defiantly. "I want them."

"But since the money's not here, we won't be able to leave the store with the shoes because we can't pay for them," I reminded her.

Back and forth we went for a good five minutes.  At some point as I stood there debating this ridiculous purchase with my 4-year-old, I realized there was no need to continue.

While my 10-year old can benefit from making an impractical purchase with her earned money and then having to experience not having enough money or having to bargain-shop for the things she needs more, the lesson doesn't translate yet to the little one. Regardless of her having her own money, she is still a tiny child that doesn't fully understand money,  I am still her parent that makes, and sometimes helps her make, good decisions, based on the values and principles we hold near and dear.

No shoes.  No need.

As I pushed the cart away from the show section, I lamented over the fact that just finding one of the Fiat-sized kiddie carts amongst the hundreds of regular-sized Target carts used to be enough excitement to keep my daughter occupied throughout an entire shopping excursion.  I also considered how close I had come to giving in to the $20 shoes, just to shut down the whining and because I felt bad for her always getting hand-me-down shoes from her older sister.

Don't buy into this, I have to remind myself from time to time. Don't get swayed by my kids' complaints, society's norms in regards to money, or my own inner conflict with money's importance.  Do what you know is best.  Period.  Another day, another kid, another parent....fine.  Today is about me and my kid and our life lessons, whether we want to experience them or not.


After some grumbles, sighs, and stomping, my 4-going-on-8-year-old begrudgingly climbed back into the wide-load cart and asked excitedly, "Mom, can we ride on the elevator?   PLEASE!"

“Atta girl!” I silently congratulated my daughter, and maybe myself, while channeling Margaret from my favorite movie, 9 to 5, when she salutes Violet, Doralee and Judy for leaving work early.