First, my daughter has been learning about money. She has been consistently keeping her room neat and clean, puts away any toys in the living room when she's done with them, has kept her pants dry and clean pretty much all the time, and has started feeding the dogs unprompted. If she notices an empty dog food bowl, she refills it, all on her own. The black lab loves this little arrangement perhaps a bit too much...we had to switch to diet dog food.
Because K has been such a big girl, she has been earning a quarter here and there for extra special good jobs (we don't pay her for her normal every day responsibilities). K had accrued $4 by the time we went to the store, and wanted to take it to get something. She was so excited, she kept pulling her money out of her pocket to show to everyone we passed. This prompted a lot of gentle laughter from most, and I earned a few of those, "been there, done that" glances along with the smiles.
We walked by some hair bands that were pink, purple, and blue, and that was IT for K, she had to have them. Plus, she had just enough money to get them including tax. We milled around the store picking up the other items I needed to get, passing toys, coloring books, art supplies, all her usual likes. I asked her if she'd rather have [insert object here] instead, because she could only get one thing that day. Nope, she wanted the hair bands. All was good in K's world until we reached the check-out line. She kept trying to open the hair bands, and I kept telling her that we had to buy them first. K very proudly pulled out her dollars and gave them over so she could have her pretties.
That's when there was trouble in paradise.
You see, K did not understand why she couldn't have her money back from the cashier so she could ALSO go get a toy, and then some candy. By this point, the hair bands were already opened and K was approaching hysterics, with huge tears running down her face. She wanted her money back. She wanted a toy. She wanted her daddy. She did not want the hair bands any more.
I wavered for a second, wondering if I should return the hair bands and go get her something else. Then I realized that this lesson had to come any way, and it was never going to be an easy one at any time. K turns four in a month, so it was time. So, sobbing daughter and all, we stumbled noisily out of the Walmart and back to the car.
A note for all you ninjas out there: do not shop with a small child who just got their first financial lesson; you will instantly get every eye in the vicinity aimed in your direction and your cover will be blown. Good thing I'm not a ninja.
K howled all the way to the car. She howled in the car while I put the groceries in the back. She howled while I buckled her up. She howled while I put the key into the ignition and started the car. (Are we noticing a theme here?) K howled until I put her daddy on the phone, and he explained the same things that I had. Being a daddy's girl, she did stop and listen, big tears rolling down her little cheeks as she held the phone to her ear. She informed her daddy that, and I quote, she was "NOT HAPPY" in her tearful little voice. All of this affected her more than I would have thought. K even had bad dreams about it that night, Z and I were in there every hour or so listening to her yell, "I want a toyyyyyyyyyy!!!!" in her sleep.
It has taken us a couple of days to explain how this works to K. Z and I have come up with a cookie analogy to try to put it on her level. When you eat a cookie, it's gone. Then you have to go out and do something to get some dough, so you can do it again another time. Somewhat mollified, K has worn a couple of her headbands and gotten that proud/bashful at the same time look on her face when she preened in front of her daddy. I think we're going to be fine. Education can be a hard thing sometimes.
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The second interesting thing to happen to us in the last couple of days comes from our son, A. Due to Snopocalypse 2010 (45" of snow!), my son's class Valentine's Day party was postponed to this past Friday. I made A fill out each valentine; I simply told him which letter to write and put my finger down where he needed to make it. He can sign his name on his own. After he was done, I had him read the names to me. School has really helped him fine-tune his writing skills. It's still pretty messy, but it is (mostly) legible at this point, and what kindergartner has impeccable handwriting skills anyway? My own handwriting was messy on into my high school years.
So, here's where it gets interesting: I left A in the living room after we were finished with the valentines. I had cookies baking in the oven for his party and went to pull a pan out. A went back into the box of unused valentines and pulled out two more. He addressed one to "mom" and one to "dady" [sic] and signed his name.
So, so awesome...he's still largely non-verbal -- although he improves daily with verbal communication. This is a first, though!
And yes, I cried. Big ol' fat tears.
Look! A picture! Before March!
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