Car money

My coworker has six kids who are teenagers through young adults.  He spent most of his career in the air force and raised his children with a military style that resulted in six responsible and hard working kids.  Every once in a while, he gives me tips and I'm listening.  So far they've included:
1. Before each kid received their own cell phone, they had to do a certain number of hours of community service.  I think it was 50 hours/kid, but I may have inflated the number.  That sounds awfully high.
2. Each kid is responsible for half of their college expenses.  It gives them incentive to find scholarships and teaches them to value their education.
3. He did not buy any child a car.  All of his college-aged children bought cars before they went to college, but they bought them on their own with no help from their parents.
4. Half of every dollar the kids received in gifts or paychecks went straight to the bank.  The other half was theirs to spend.  Upon high school graduation, the bank money was theirs to pay towards college.

As a parent, I know I'm not as tough as he is.  I like his ideas, but I need to tailor them a bit.  Jacob and I have already discussed that we're going to pay for the boys' college educations.  We've started saving and if all goes to plan, we should be ready by the time they graduate high school.  But I like idea #4 as it teaches the kids the concept of saving.  So tonight, Brody started his first savings account.

Brody is on a big Pokemon kick right now and came home with some information from Jack, his friend at school.  Jack told Brody that you can buy Pokemon cards at Target for $20.  Brody, who has a very full piggy bank, said "I have $20!" and asked Jacob to go to Target.  The saver in me cringed.  I know he should be free to spend his own money, but he also needs to learn how to save.  I decided to go with idea #4 and told Brody that for every dollar in his piggy bank, he needed to put one in a savings account to save for a car.

"A CAAARRRR...??" asked Brody.  The confusion in his face and voice was just what you'd expect from a six year old who's just been told that they need to save their dollars to buy a car.  I stuck with it and he obliged.  He ran upstairs, broke into his piggy bank and separated his dollars into two, even piles.  He had $27 to spend and handed me $27 stating "this is for my car."  Then he asked him much money he'd need for a car.  I guessed, "Four thousand".  His eyes widened and he said he needed a lot more dollars.  Yep.

Right now, his car money is in my "car jar", a tomato sauce jar that I cleaned and decoupaged with pictures of cars when I was in college to save money towards my future car.  Sometime soon, Brody and I will go to the bank and he'll get his own bank account.  My coworker said that each of his kids had around $4k saved by the time they went off to college.  I hope the same is true for Brody.  I think it would be cool for him to buy his own car as a teenager, from the money he started saving at age six.

Oh, and we went to get Pokemon cards tonight.  Of his $27 he was allowed to spend, he only spent $18.  He handed me the rest and told me to put it with the car money.  I couldn't do it.  He's six.  He deserves to have fun with his money too.  We put the remaining money back in his piggy bank for his next whim.

As tall as Mama

While eating a waffle, Logan raises his hand above his head and says: "if I eat all this, I'll be this big!" I tell him, "I hope so buddy. Do you think you'll ever be as tall as me?" He thinks and says, "Maybe if I stand on a chair."

Another day, Brody was telling me about being a teenager. He said he was going to grow to be taller than Dada when he was a teenager. I asked, "When do you think you'll grow taller than me?" Brody responded, "Hmm... maybe never."

My boys, who are consistently under the 25th percentile for height during check-ups, have very realistic expectations about their size. :)

My son, the ninja

Says Logan: "When I'm a ninja, I want to be the gold one." Replies Brody: "When I'm a ninja, I want to be the green one since he can be the green one or the gold one."  

I'm looking forward to the mom competitions of my future. When someone else boasts that their child is a doctor, lawyer, etc, I will tell them that's nice, but my sons are ninjas. And ninjas always win. 

Kicking my Foot

Brody learned something new today. He told us if someone is not telling the truth, you can say "Are you kicking my foot?" I looked at him and asked "Do you mean 'pulling my leg'?" "Ohhhh", says Brody. "Botched cliche" says Dada.

Boys.

When Brody was three, he would get exasperated when I couldn't separate the superheroes into categories by... I don't even know what to call it.  Universes?  Spiderman goes with Marvel, Superman with DC Comics.  Ironman was in the Avengers, Wonder Woman was a Super Friend.  I grew up in the '80s just like Dada, but he is a boy and he knows these things.  I'm a girl.  Give me time.  I'll figure out how to parent boys, but I need time to catch up.

I finally get a grasp on the superheroes and Logan comes along with his own favorites and new categories.  Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles- I can do that.  I remember them.  But Star Wars?  Transformers?  Voltron?  Come on, boys.  I'm a girl.  I'm trying, but there are just so many.

Tonight as I'm putting Logan to bed, he asks me why his Voltron toy is with the Transformers.  Because while the four lions come together to form a transformer-like robot called Voltron, they are not Transformers.  I know this.  I don't know names, but I know that Voltron and the Transformers are different.  Voltron has pilots and... flying lions, I think?  Transformers are aliens who look like robots and then transform into cars, or planes, or dinosaurs.  Autobots  = good.  Decepticons = bad.  I'm trying, but sometimes I feel like I need a cheat sheet.  Or I should start writing clues on my hands so when the boys ask, I can answer correctly without them sighing and going to ask Dada.

Kids are supposed to think their parents know everything... at least when they're 5 and 3, they should.  Mine have no such illusions.  When it comes to their world of "cool", they know how very little I know.  But I'm trying.  And hopefully that's what matters most.

Kicking it old school

99 Red Balloons

As a young kid, one of my first memories was dancing to 99 Red Balloons in the Hesselgrave's living room with my friends Kim and Amy and their parents. I was five or six years old and hadn't heard the song before but decided I loved it. Tonight I heard 99 Red Balloons on the radio on my way home and couldn't help but sing along and dance in my seat. It made me smile at the memory and ponder the music I dance to with my boys now. Will they remember dancing in the kitchen with me and Dada? Someday will they hear Ho Hey or Gangnam Style come on the radio and smile at the memory? I realized I may need to choose songs with more staying power so tonight I chose some classics and put on Call me Al and of course, 99 Red Balloons. The boys weren't into it, so I switched to Call Me, Maybe. And we danced. Oh well, if their memory is dancing with Mama to bad music, so be it. At least we're dancing.