Independent

Now that I'm not posting each month about Kekoa, I take fewer pictures.  Because let's face it, about 70% of the pictures I took last year were snapped the morning I was trying to get a picture post together.  I'm not good about remembering the camera, and he's not good at posing long enough for me to get the moment anyway.

But I realized that nearly all the photos I have taken lately center around a common theme: messes.

I mean, independence.  Which just happens to be accompanied by a whooooole lot of messes.  And for being independence, it sure does seem to come with a lot of oversight necessary.

Here are a few of the new things our Chief Imitator has learned to do in the last couple months:

Drink out of a cup.

Eat with a fork or spoon.  Bonus: he's wiling to eat almost anything if he can stab it on a fork!  

The food's not that bad.  Really.

Brush his own teeth (questionably, but better than him resisting our efforts).  Incidentally, I discovered a couple weeks ago that he  is also pretty good at brushing baseboards - with the same toothbrush, of course.

Sweep, also questionably.

Dust (ditto).

Help with the baking by stirring, mixing, and taste testing.  I don't think we'll be sharing our baked goods anytime soon, though - our sanitation standards aren't quite up to snuff.

And that is the story of how our general, everyday tasks like eating and cleaning suddenly seem to take three times as long, but have twice the excitement as usual.

(And why yes, those last three pictures were all snapped this morning.  I told you I'm not good at remembering.)

What My Parents Did: Teaching Kids to Manage Money

When I was very little, we got a small allowance along normal lines - my older brother and I had piggy banks and we would occasionally get dollar bills or coins to put inside.  Really, the excitement was more with the piggy banks than it was with the money.

But when each of us reached an age when we could do basic addition and subtraction (usually around 6 years), we switched to the "register" system.

The register system was rather an adult way to do things because all our money was imaginary.  None of it ever actually crossed our hands (a sneaky way for Dad to keep full control of the actual spending!).  My dad gave each of us a check register, which we kept exactly how you would keep a checkbook.  Each month, my dad would add our allowance.  Any purchases we made (we were taught to religiously keep receipts until they can be logged in - I still do this obsessively, and passed that little habit on to Josh) were subtracted from the total.

Story of my Childhood

We got an allowance on a graduated scale based on our age, but it was substantially larger than that of our peers - I didn't like telling other kids what I got because they would inevitably open their eyes saucer-wide and say, "Whoa, that's not fair! I only get five dollars a month!"

There was a catch, however: we were responsible for buying everything.  We were responsible for managing our money to buy clothes, toys, sporting equipment, athletic fees, attendance to camps and clubs, birthday and Christmas gifts, shoes, etc.

One of my friends complained profusely about her "tiny" allowance.  "I'm so jealous!" she said.  I, on the other hand, was busy gaping at the biggest Beanie Baby collection I had ever seen, and drooling over her American Girl horse to go with her three AG dolls, complete with bedroom sets and every accessory ever.  What exactly did she use her allowance for, I wondered?

Obviously, we didn't have to pay for everything: food, rent and utilities, and school supplies/activities, but if we wanted any special treats or supplies, those came out of our discretionary income.  We also paid for our misdeeds: windows we had broken, lamps that were shattered, lights left on during vacation, chores left undone (we eventually had to do them anyway, but were charged at Mom's pay rate for her time disciplining us).

We learned the value of money pretty quickly.  The ice cream truck lost its appeal when we realized that we could buy an entire box at Costco for the same price.  I took horseback riding lessons for a summer, cleaned out my life's savings in three months for the privilege of mucking stalls, and promptly switched to a cheaper sport (running).  My brothers, more attached to their sport of choice, learned that taking good care of baseball bats, cleats, and mitts helped them last longer.  When we got our licenses, we discovered the joy of car insurance.  If we went out with our friends to dinner and a movie, we'd ask Dad for cash.  Inevitably, it was already subtracted by the time we got home.

The system taught a lot of life lessons at once: how to manage a check book, how to budget for savings and tithe and gifts, and how to prioritize activities and costs.  For big desires, we learned to wait until Christmas or birthdays.  I was lucky, with a summer birthday; my brothers with December birthdays waited all year.

Bonus lesson: we were also allowed to lend money to our siblings.  Interest is great- when you're on the right side of it!  And we learned that borrowing from family and friends is wrought with potential conflicts.

I envision us using the same system for our kids.  We'll take the amount we budget each month for the kids and pass it on to them to handle.  One big change though: I think we'll buy them a few wardrobe basics each year. Anything they want beyond that - accessories, trendy clothes, extra shoes - will be their responsibility.  I know that occasionally my unwillingness to buy new clothes caused fights:

"But I thought you gave us this money so we could manage our needs!"
"Yes, and I've decided that you need new clothes.  You may not wear jeans with holes in them!"
"Okay, well, these ones are fine.  And I don't need a new shirt."
"No, those don't fit well.  Try these ones. And you do need a new shirt because you can't wear the same three shirts every single day."
"But Mooooom!  These ones cost twice as much!"
"But they don't make you look like a ragamuffin!"

Yeah.  I think we'll definitely be buying some wardrobe basics for our kids.  But I don't think my parents anticipated me being quite so...uninterested...in clothes.

So. Kekoa and his possible future siblings are unwitting future victims of Dad's register scheme.  I wonder how he'll feel about it when it's his grandchildren learning about scarcity of resources?

Either way, I know they'll learn one thing quickly: you can always look forward to birthdays and Christmas.