Grateful Children and money

Last Christmas the air sang with the not-so-sweet sound of kids grumbling that Santa hadn't brought them what they wanted. They griped that they hadn't gotten as many presents as their siblings or cousins. They whined that it just wasn't enough.

The room overflowed with wrapping paper and toys and yet they found reason to complain.

This year I was worried that we'd face the same issue. There was good reason too, this Santa was laaaazy and didn't go to the extremes she'd gone the previous year. And yet, instead all we heard were the strains of "thank you!" "this is awesome!," and "I love this!" 

Even better, M reported to me that, upon coming down on Christmas morning, he overheard C respond to her cousin's surprise that people would be out playing in their yards with a neatly outlined, three pronged answer.

"First of all, maybe they don't celebrate Christmas. Second of all, maybe they're done opening their presents because they didn't get as many as us. And third of all, maybe they're happy with how many presents they got!"

Be still my heart. Maybe, just maybe, a year's worth of lessons on gratitude have finally sunk in. Maybe she's finally maturing.

I've been thinking about the allowance issue a lot this year. M and I were not given an allowance as children. We were given things that we needed (or at times wanted) when we asked for them. However I would love for my children to understand how to manage money better than I do and I have a hunch that giving them an allowance is the path to that knowledge.

Until this week, I've assumed that C wouldn't get the allowance thing. That she'd spend her cash on the first thing that caught her mind, not really thinking about saving or even gifting parts of it when the right occasions arose. Now I'm starting to think that we might be able to start her small, explain what expectations she needs to meet to get her allowance, and what expectations she needs to meet to manage her money.

I think that the highly visual aspect of Kidworth's interface will help me teach her well. We can work together to create savings goals, spending goals, and even sharing goals. Hopefully next time I hear her exclaim "I love this!" it'll be over something she planned to get for herself and got because she was able to save up her allowance to get it.



This post was inspired and sponsored by Kidworth, a neat site designed to teach kids financial goal setting. Set up Kidworth accounts for the kids in your life and let family and friends help you give them the gift of financial responsibility. Parents set up an account, and kids enter their goals. Whether they are saving up for guitar lessons, or a donation to the local animal shelter, Kidworth can help them achieve their goals. 

Ode to Breakfast

Many years ago, the day after I had met M and we had already spent a considerable amount of time together, he stopped mid-sentence and turned to me with a dead serious look on his face.

Here it comes, I thought, he's going to ask me something crucial. Couldn't be about religion, we'd covered that the evening before. Couldn't be about... Really, I had no clue. All I knew is that it was clearly something monumental for him.

I held my breath.

"Do you..." He started and hesitated, looking me deep in the eye. I squirmed. "Do you like breakfast?" He finished in a rush.

I burst into laughter. Ridiculously relieved that this was the question and, more importantly, that I knew the answer and was pretty sure that it was the right one.

"Of course I like breakfast. What's not to like?"

Moments later we were headed towards M's favorite breakfast place, a hole-in-the-wall joint I'd come to love too (and would once stand in line at for an hour in the middle of a Boston snow storm just for one of their very much in demand tables).

From that day on breakfast has played a central role in our lives. We know where to find the best french toast, have perfected breakfast for dinner, and make sure that we always stock the staples for a great start to the day.

Of course, since that day, our routine has changed a lot. No longer will we stand for an hour in the cold just for the promise of warm pancakes and fresh orange juice. Now breakfast is a family affair, kids, daddy, mommy, juice, cereal, yogurt, and the morning paper.

We don't talk a whole lot, at least the grown-ups don't, but we start the day all together, enjoying a routine that started the moment C was born and grew to include Little L when she made her way onto the scene.

Moments after breakfast we split up and go our ways. M heads off to work. C and Little L retire to the living room to watch a PBS show. And I bustle around getting everyone's things together. But that brief interlude (On average 17 minutes for each family according to Kellogg's.) at the kitchen table, as predictable as M's eternal love for breakfast, grounds me and gives me the energy I need to get through the day.

All survey statistics come from the Kellogg's Breakfast in America Survey by The NPD Group (December 29, 2010 - January 24, 2011).

Please note, my love for breakfast is all mine (and M's) but I was compensated by Kellogg's and The Motherhood to share it with you.

Hearkening Back

My husband mentioned in passing today that he'd really enjoyed my last non-sponsored post. He said, and I quote, "It hearkens back to when your posts really sang with your voice."

My jaw dropped and for a second I wanted to be mad. How dare he denigrate my work, any of my work, even the stuff that is technically not 100% from my heart? But the rant died on my lips.

He's right. Other than a post here and there, my stuff hasn't shone in a while. In fact, if you look back at the blog archives from March on, there's a lot more sponsored stuff than from the heart stuff.

But really, it's not my fault. What does he want? That I should write about the stuff that is wedged in my chest, like a boulder that I can't seem to dislodge?

How last week I sat in the hospital waiting room, waiting to hear if the surgery that we'd waited for for four years would give us our lives back? How during those five hours after the nurses has wheeled him into the OR a part of me cringed and waited for news that not only were we not going to get our lives back, but I might not get my husband back at all? How when the medical assistant assured me that they'd take care of him, my voice broke as I just asked her to please not break him any more than he already was?

How about writing about the anger that coursed through me the week before the surgery? Anger that we should have to deal with this on top of everything else when other fathers get boundless health they take for granted.

Maybe I should write about this god awful year where tribulation after tribulation landed on us, month after month, like Moses' plagues, except without a way to make. them. stop. The broken tooth and ensuing infection. The sprained ankle. The strep in the finger and accompanying relentless 104F that stuck around for four long days. The fall off the monkey bars and subsequent trip to the ER. The terrifying medical diagnosis. The worsening of the other,  pre-existing, condition. The dead car. The crumbling foundation of the house. The damn Supreme Court ruling that dried up our income.

Or how about I write about the fact that every night these last two weeks I've sat at the computer and tried to create a family holiday card and... I just can't. (Well, I did create a card, but M says I can't send it. It's not appropriate or something and might worry some recipients.) But really, what is there to say? So long 2011, don't let the door hit you on the ass as you leave! Not exactly in the spirit of the holidays.

This year would have brought a weaker woman to her knees, or at least running to the vodka and pills. Not me, I'm freakishly strong apparently. I've found my super power, I can take an emotional beating and just keep on chugging.

What does come to a halt is my creativity. It all gets stuck, maybe because if I start to tap into the place that allows me to spin heartfelt, emotional posts I won't be able to stop everything from spilling out, and if that happens I won't be able to keep on chugging any longer.

My husband's surgery went really well and according to the surgeon was long overdue. They wheeled him back to me, and he opened his eyes and cracked a joke. I almost wept in relief.

He's home, with me, recovering until the end of the year. The two of us are hanging out, reading, talking, napping, and laughing. We're healing. Him from his surgery, me from this year. I want nothing more than to just sit here, licking my emotional wounds, and if he weren't here I'd probably be doing just that (or my equivalent which involves endless hours of Las Vegas reruns and too much tea). Instead I'm lapping up this unexpected bounty of one-on-one time with my husband and remembering to be grateful for what this year didn't take from me.

I have my family, my sense of humor and my voice, which is lying peacefully inside, just waiting for me to be ready to let it out again.

Tiny Killers In Your Home

Two years ago a good friend who is always, always, always online wasn't on Skype when I got up and got ready to work. I searched my addled brain to try to remember if she'd mentioned any special outing that might have take her away from her usual post, but, other than vaguely remembering that her son had been complaining of a tummy ache, I came up blank. So I headed over to Twitter  and Facebook to find some clues.

I didn't get a clue, I got a chilling answer.

My friend's son had swallowed a button battery and was being rushed to the children's hospital an hour away. The battery was lodged in his throat and was busy burning a hole in his esophagus.

I don't pretend the remember the details of that day, though I'm sure his mom relives it in many of her nightmares (and you can read it here),  I do remember the horror I felt as I tried to imagine just how many things in our home contain button batteries.

Think about it. They're in everything. Every little toy. Every watch. Every musical card. They're in things you don't even think might contain batteries. And, unlike products designed for specifically for kids, with battery covers that screw shut, most items have easy to open compartments.

Did you know that it only takes about two hours for a button battery to cause serious burns in a child’s esophagus? Another hour of waiting at home to see if his tummy ache would go away and my friend's son might have been in the hospital for months recovering from serious reconstructive surgery.
 
Did you know that in 2010, there were more than 3,400 reported cases of children ingesting button batteries? The number of cases of children swallowing batteries has more than quadrupled in the past five years, but since the symptoms of coin-sized button battery ingestion may be similar to other childhood illnesses, such as coughing, drooling and discomfort the situation often goes goes unreported. 


My friend's son was incredibly lucky, first that his mom trusted her mother's intuition and rushed him to the ER and second that he got there in time for the battery to be removed safely. Not all kids are this lucky. 

This holiday season, when button batteries proliferate and parental vigilance dips, Safe Kids Worldwide and Energizer have announced a critical partnership to share life-saving information with parents and caregivers about the potential risks of swallowing coin-sized button batteries. The formation of “The Battery Controlled” by Safe Kids and Energizer shines a light on this growing issue and provides easy steps parents and caregivers can take to prevent injuries and deaths to children. 

• Be proactive. Keep button batteries and devices that use them out of reach if the battery compartments aren’t secure.
• Act quickly. If a child swallows a battery, go to the emergency room right away.
• Spread the word. Tell others about this hidden danger and share these steps.

For more information on this important issue and for tips on how to protect your family, visit www.thebatterycontrolled.com or join the conversation on Facebook www.facebook.com/thebatterycontrolled or Twitter: www.twitter.com/batterycontrol Hashtag: #BatteryControlled

Still not convinced that there are button batteries lurking in your home? Maybe this video will change that.



Please note, I was compensated to share this information with you, but my concern for your little ones is very real. Keep the kids safe this holiday season.

Super Speller

When I was a kid in elementary school I was a "Super" Speller. That's right, not just super, but "Super," as though no one in the school would notice the quotes and the capitalization and not instantly know that it was a euphemistic name.

Right now? Totally had to use spell check to spell euphemistic.

To put it simply, I'm a terrible speller. Terrible. I rely heavily on spell check and on that neat little function in Firefox that underlines misspelled words.

I'm not telling you this to give you something new tease me about next time we meet, but rather to put what I'm about to tell you next into context.

Somehow I've fallen into a warped reality where I am in fact the family's de-facto Super Speller. (Note the absence of quotation marks.) 17 million times a day I find myself answering the question "Mommy, how do you spell..?"

Happy.
Car.
Birthday.
Boat.
Helicopter.
Refrigerator.
Airplane. 

Anything and everything. First it was just C, but now Little L has gotten in on the game. Only to them it's not a game. It's a super serious thing where they just have to know, right then and there, how things are spelled.

So, the "Super" Speller, over-user of spell check, has been caught in the never ending spelling bee from hell. And yes, they stump me sometimes and I have to mumble the second half of a word. But most often I'm able to spell the words they need.

I grumble and groan internally, but when it leads to things like this, I forgive them for putting me on the spot endlessly.

Little L's very first note ever.

Dare to Try Gloss

Thanks to L'Oreal for sponsoring my post about my favorite beauty looks, tips and tricks! Check out Makeup.com for beauty advice from the experts.

This past summer, at a blogging conference, I had a fabulous make-over. With a swish of a comb, a swoop of a make-up brush, and a swipe of a tiny bit of lip gloss I looked like Jackie O.

No, really, that's what people were saying!

Months later and the Jackie O look hasn't stuck around. First I don't have time in the morning for a fancy up-do. Second, I hang out with kids all the time so the stylish duds don't always work. But I have worked on making sure I look presentable every day, even if all I have time for is a little make-up and a bit of hair product.

The one thing I regret I didn't keep up is the lip gloss. Such an easy little thing, I thought, when it was applied. I got home and picked up a tube of pink shimmery lip gloss, excited to add something to my usual make-up routine.

Six months later the tube sits abandoned in my car. Turns out lip gloss is more high maintenance than I thought.

That said, I was a big fan of how it looked so I'm determined to try again, this time with a few tips and tricks gleaned from the makeup.com site. To start with, I'm pretty sure that if I stop treating lip gloss like chapstick it'll work a lot better! It's not all that daring or crazy, but I'm a freelancing mama, and it's the best I can manage this holiday season.

I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective. Click here to learn more about Makeup.com or become a Facebook fan by clicking here.

Venturing online @Safely

When I was a kid we lived in a tall house in London. Each floor had one phone; the one on the kids’ floor happened to be a good ol’ corded model firmly attached to the wall in the hallway with a not so long cord. I wasn’t old enough to be on the phone 24/7, but the calls I did get had to be taken sitting on the stairs in the very middle of the house.

Privacy wasn’t exactly at an optimum.

Back then I found it irritating that my sisters could hear every embarrassing word of my truly un-embarrassing call to my friends. Today I just wish that we could rig a similar system for when my kids get old enough to receive calls.
It’s not that I want to spy on them; it’s just that I want them to know that I could potentially overhear stuff. It’s a checks and balances kind of system. If mommy could potentially hear something you don’t want her to hear, it’s easy, just don’t say it.

Sadly (for me, not for them) my girls will be pre-teens and teens in the Internet and cell phone age. They’ll be able to communicate with their friends through text, tweet, Facebook, and whatever other system is invented and implemented in the next 10 years.

Let me be clear, I trust my kids, I trust that I’m teaching them to make smart choices, I trust that I’m teaching them to communicate openly with me, I trust that this won’t change radically over the coming years. That said, I also know that it’s good for kids to have an “out.”

“I can’t say stuff like that, my mom might be listening.”

“I can’t do that, my mom might find out.”

And frankly, it doesn’t hurt to have a system set up that allows for conversation starters.

My kids are far from being old enough to be allowed on Facebook, but I already worry about the day they will get their account. I know they’re trustworthy, but the same way I worry about the day they’ll drive because of the other drivers, I worry about them being online because of the other Internet users.

So, just like I’ll be teaching them to drive, first by example, then by being there with them, and finally by letting them venture out for short trips to grow their confidence and allow them to gain experience, I’m going to hold their hand as they enter the world of social media.

To test it out, I signed up for the Safely Social Monitor, a service that is part of a new suite of mobile, social and location-based family safety technologies from Safely that increases parents’ awareness, and helps them guide their kids through each stage of growth.

Guess most of my friends are women about my age! Reassuring really!

This brand new service scours your loved one’s Facebook profile and rates the activity, the friends, the photos, and anything else a parent might want to know. It offers a great tool that you can use to help your child better understand the ramifications of their online activity.

Look! 95% Good! Someone tell Sa

And if, like me, all this kids online stuff sends you into a panic, Safely has created the Safely Spotlight, a free digital parenting guide with tips and advice. The Spotlight is available on Safely's Facebook page, where you should be active so you can start by modeling smart online behavior for your child!

Please note, while I was compensated for this post about Safely's Social Monitoring service, the thoughts and opinions contained here are mine and mine alone. Since C and Little L are way too young to use Facebook yet, I ran the system against my own account. The screenshots you see above are of the Safely report on my account.

School Rules - What would you chose?

It's no secret that I'm struggling this week. There are so many balls in the air that I don't know which to catch first and frankly, I'm sorely tempted to let them all crash to the floor while I go off to Hawaii for a quick jaunt in the surf. Instead though, I'll sit here, sipping a Gingerbread Latte, dunking my donut and I'll rally. It's what I do best.

Since, beyond arranging for childcare and entertainment for the kids, I can't actively do anything about the fact that my husband is having surgery next week, I'm noodling the school issue.

Let me ask you a question. Below I'm posting two sets of school rules. You tell me which one makes you want to go learn. Maybe it'll help everyone understand why I'm struggling so much with what to do with the kids next year.

School 1, where C has been for two years now. As posted in each classroom. 

School 2. One of the school options for Little L's Kindergarten.

1. Treat others and their property with kindness and respect
2. Take care of school property and treat campus with respect
3. Use playground and school equipment the way it was intended to be used
4. Do not use abusive language, gestures or physical aggression
5. Do not throw sand, stones, dirt, tanbark, pebbles or rocks
6. No personal toys, sports equipment, cards or electronic devices are allowed at school
7. Bicycles, scooters, skateboards and rollerblades must be stored off school grounds or in the bike storage area. No riding in the hallways.
8. No gum allowed on campus
9. Do NOT leave campus unless signed out by a parent/guardian in the office
10. No student, or unauthorized adult shall be in the! classrooms, library or multi-purpose room without supervision or !permission.
11. Report problems at school to an adult. Students who witness problems and fail to report them are just as responsible as those who caused the problem.

~~~~~~~~~~

The end result is going to be the same: respectful kids in a safe environment. It's just that the first set of rules are... I dunno... more friendly? Easier to want to follow?

If you're anything like me after the third NO in the second set of rules your eyes glazed over and you started skimming.

If you're like most people you felt inspired by the first set of rules. They're rules that apply all life long, which is the premise of the school. They teach the kids lessons that will be valuable their entire lives.

It's a tough conundrum. Environment #1 is a private school meaning the kids don't grow their neighborhood community through school. Environment #2 is a public school, so we'd grow our local community, but lose on the school environment we love so much.

What would you do in our case? Which would you pick? (For the sake of argument, assume both schools rank similarly as far as academics go, the distinction lies in the realm of emotional education.)