I am a ridiculous pile of contradictions.
Between the ages of 5 and 10 I loved school. L.O.V.E.D it. I was chipper every morning and looked forward to the END of summer. School shopping was like going to Disney World. I got to browse the aisles of Hill's Department Store, stroking the velour Garanimals separates as I walked past them. My opinion was consulted on potential purchases, all of which were placed in a cardboard box at the back of the store. I wanted nothing more than to follow our box on it's little conveyor belt to the stockroom and keep it company until we could afford to pay for all of it and take it home. The entire concept of "Back to School" was magical to me. No doubt, television commercials and a spectacularly un-stimulating home life played a part in making this time of year so special to me. I was trying to re-create the kind of family life I saw on tv. I wanted the kind of mother who indulged my irrational desire for folders decorated with kittens and pencils with my name on them. I wanted the kind of mother who didn't look at the price tag and meet my gaze with a sharp, "No."
Despite my past love affair with school and school shopping and the imaginary path to happiness that it might provide, I am shielding my child from all of it. No back to school shopping. No lay-away boxes. No mad rush to get a bunch of stuff that no one actually needs. No totally useless fall weather clothes that won't be worn for months. Am I sending my child to school in tattered shorts and flip-flops, without pencils and a back pack? Nope. I'm not sending her to school at all.
I am sometimes conflicted about homeschooling, but when I stop and really analyze what I am so nostalgic about, it has almost nothing to do with the traditional school education I received. I worry that my child will somehow be warped by missing out on the experience of buying notebooks, and kitten folders and toxic, plastic lunch boxes bearing the face of Hannah Montana or some such totally age inappropriate tv idol. I am worried about stuff, stupid unnecessary, "but so-n-so, has one" material garbage. I was brainwashed as a child and the effects still linger.
My daughter has her wants. She wants a pony and she wants to buy Princess gowns and wear them any time she doesn't feel like being naked, but she doesn't want a Hannah Montana book bag or High School Musical sneakers. She only wants what she wants, not what other kids tell her she should want. Her tastes change as quickly as the wind blows, but the wind is totally her creation.
Teaching my child at home allows me to control the various influences in her life. It's hard enough to know your own mind, when it keeps changing and growing and expanding exponentially everyday. When the kids at school and on the tv keep telling you something different, it can be hard to discern the difference between want and need. That difference is really the first and most important lesson of home economics. So, while we skip the trip to Wal-Mart for Tinkerbell t-shirts, in favor of browsing at the thrift store, we are really studying the value of a dollar, not to mention the environmental importance of not creating more stuff than is necessary.
I am hoping that one day, when Violet remembers "school", she will recall the day that reading finally clicked and not the day she got her Trapper Keeper or whatever it is that kids think they need these days. I have no memory of learning to read, but I can still see that Strawberry Shortcake safari outfit I wore on the first day of school and it makes me a little sad.
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How does your family deal with the financial pressures of back-to-school time? The Parent Bloggers Network and Capital One are teaming up to talk about family budgeting and finances. Check it out!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Hannah Montana, Lunch Box non Grata
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Labels: blog blast, frugal living, homeschool, money, PBN, public school, T.V.
Friday, April 17, 2009
When I'm Not Eating Bon Bons & Watching My Stories...
For more on the subject of my career path see the post I have up over at The Women's Colony*.
*I'm totally geeked out about being included here, but I'm trying to play it cool. Wheeeee!
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Labels: home, money, SAHM, the women's colony
Friday, September 12, 2008
I Dare You to Put an Hourly Wage on Mothering!
Money is a funny subject with the Heathen Family. It's funny because if we didn't laugh about it, the subject would suck away our joy like a ... a giant joy sucking vacuum. Our family is constantly on the precipice of financial ruin. Is funny, no? The fact is, we choose to live this way, sort of. I could get a job and work part-time, shuffling Violet from Grandma to TeeTee when Aaron wasn't home, but then I would be sad. I mean, I would need to be medicated. When I do the math on what I might expect to receive in the way of hourly compensation, I become indignant. My time is worth way more than $10 an hour (what my last job payed). I can accomplish all of the following in a really productive 60 minutes:
1. Do a load of laundry.
2. Make a meal.
3. Read 5-10 picture books.
4. Wipe things/ people repeatedly.
That list does not look like $10 to me. It cannot be valued. It is priceless. I am priceless. Of course, I can also accomplish nearly nothing tangible in a less productive 60 minutes:
1. Cuddle with Violet.
2. Stare into space.
3. Pinch various parts of Violet's adorable anatomy (they don't allow that in daycare I hear)
4. Blog
There is some really complicated philosophical math going on here, but in a nutshell:
I am worth more at home than I am at work.
I don't want to toot my own horn, but I make all the fun possible in this house. Sure, Aaron makes the money to buy groceries and pay bills and purchase the occasional plaything, but I'm the one who plays, dances, cooks, cleans, kisses, reads, wipes, blah, blah, blah. If I had a job, we might have a little more money, but we would have no time for all of the things that we enjoy most as a family. So, what am I teaching my child about high finance? Nothing. Violet is the one doing all the teaching right now. She's the one who showed us that money is absolutely meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Time is what matters. Violet can love an expensive toy for a day or two, but she'll spend her whole childhood enjoying the time she has with us (and a cardboard box or two). As for practical learning about the use and management of money? Violet and I will learn about that together, starting with her piggy bank (and a little professional guidance)and we'll fill Daddy in on our progress along the way.
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The Parent Bloggers Network and Capital One are sponsoring a contest on teaching kids about money. It got me thinking about my own lack of sophistication in the economic arts and how that might ultimately affect my child.
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Labels: family life, money, parenting
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Poverty is My Salvation
When my husband was 21, he bought a nice old house. This nice old house is our home now and it is about a dozen blocks from downtown Dayton and only 5 blocks from the University of Dayton. I can walk to the grocery store. I have three drug stores within walking distance of my house and I can coast down the hill to the gas station when the car is on fumes. In fact, we only have one car and since my husband has a big bad job 30 minutes away, I walk a lot. As I write this, I can see how picaresque my life must sound. In reality, the reason we only have one car is that an uninsured drunk totaled our second car as it sat parked in front of our house. Staying home with my daughter has made my heart more joyful than I could have guessed, but the decision was made by finances. I simply did not make enough money to cover daycare. Our neighborhood is not exactly the kind of community that makes walking a pleasant experience. Our street is extremely busy and the intersection that I must cross to get anywhere is frightening. There are derelict houses and razed lots sprinkled liberally through out the surrounding streets.
Oh, and it's uphill both ways.
I am not joking.
I live mere blocks away from the highest spot in Dayton, The Woodlawn Cemetery (the Wright Brothers are buried there). I used to walk in the cemetery. It is one of those old Victorian parks that endeavored to be both a beautiful arboretum and a place of final rest. Unfortunately, it is so large and so private that people get mugged there.
Okay, so I live a blighted neighborhood with undervalued potential. My point is that circumstances have placed us in a situation that I could view as dire or delightful. I choose delightful. I have everyday to spend watching my daughter grow. I never need to ask someone where Violet learned a bad habit or what the stain on her shirt is from. I am constantly exercising my creativity to keep us entertained. I am putting all of these lovely/inconvenient things into perspective because my friend and her husband just bought the most fantabulous house I have ever been in. It is gorgeous and full of light and has nearly as many toilets as occupants. They are now completely house poor and it is also a grotesque 45 minutes from where they both work. I know that there are plenty of suburban Mamas who will laugh at that minor commute, but I find it repulsive (I don't like driving much). I can't imagine any residential upgrade that would make me willing to give up my days with my child. I also have more time with my husband and if I spend more than 15 minutes in the car it's because I am going someplace fun.
I am so glad that I have no money. If we were just a little bit wealthier, I may have made very different choices about my life as a mother. I might have gone back to work, put Violet in daycare and struggled to find the time and energy to be the nice Mommy and the nice wife. I know myself. I would not be as close to my child as I am now, if I had to deal with customers all day long. I have a very low threshold for pleasant caregiving. I am much more talented at stretching resources than I am at stretching time. Money can be made and saved, time cannot.
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Labels: commuting, money, motherhood, work
