Money & Munchkins

"Mom, do we live in a mansion?"

I glance in the rear view mirror and see Jared looking inquisitively back at me from the rear of the van. You never know what questions you're going to get with a six-year-old. We're on our way home from the park; what prompted that question? Probably some of the homes we passed on 116th. 

"No, Jared. Mansions are really big, fancy houses." 

There's a moment of silence in the back seat.

"Well I bet the people who live in mansions are actually poor. "

"Why do you think that?"

"Because once they spend all their money on their big house, they don't have any left." 

I start to correct him, to tell him that usually people who buy mansions have enough financial resources that they have plenty of money left over after making their mortgage payment. But as I thought more about it, I realized that Jared had a point: Just because someone spends money--even a lot of money--doesn't necessarily mean they have made a wise financial decision. There will always be more ways to spend than we have resources. Or, as Adam says, "There will always be people who are willing to take your money--ALL of your money." 

George Washington and Thomas Jefferson are examples of people who on the outside appeared to be well-off but who actually struggled to achieve financial stability throughout their lives. When Washington became president, he felt (understandably) an obligation to host, and host in style, important visitors at his Mt Vernon home (including some 2,000 important guests, according to Wikipedia). Thomas Jefferson, born into a wealthy slave-owning family, enjoyed a life of plantation-style luxury. But by his death in 1826, he was deeply in debt. Wikipedia recounts an example of Jefferson's spending habits that had led him into debt in the first place: "By 1815, Jefferson's library included 6,487 books, which he sold to the Library of Congress for $23,950 to replace the smaller collection destroyed in the War of 1812. He intended to pay off some of his large debt, but immediately started buying more books.^" Twenty-three grand is a lot of money now, and it was a LOT of money then. But "enough" really depends on how you use it. (Although I have to say that of all the items to squander your assets on, books are a pretty good choice.)

I have a friend from high school who grew up in a "mansion." The house was gorgeous, situated on acres of lovely grounds, complete with water fountains and walk ways. When I spoke with her at our ten-year reunion this summer, she told me that her father had retired several years ago, but that since then her parents had some investments go wrong because of some dishonest people. They are now living in a condo a few miles from their original home, and her father had gone back to work. That news came as a shock to me. Even when we're doing our best, bad things can happen. This is a wonderful family, and I'm sure they have adjusted. But what a hard change to go through. It's good to remember that money can't buy happiness.

Adam and I have been talking lately about how we can teach our own children the importance of financial responsibility. Although Jared (6) and Allison (4) are still very young, we would like to help them learn good money habits: the willingness to earn, the discipline to save, and the generosity to give money to others in need. I believe that those three financial facets are key to living a happy and stable financial life. But how do you teach them to your kids?

We haven't had much experience teaching finances yet, with the exception of one experience. Last year when we moved from Illinois to Indiana, Jared was enamored with the idea of having a Power Wheels motorized car. I peeked at the price tag on one at the store and nearly fell over. Over $200! So I bought him an oversize glass jar and told him that if he wanted a Power Wheels, he could do jobs to earn the money himself. Over the next year Jared did jobs around the house and yard to earn money for his "saving jar." I soon found him a smaller container to hold his tithing. (Members of my Church pay 10% of our income to the church. The money funds the building of meeting houses, temples--like the one being built on 116th and Springmill Rd in Carmel--missionary work, education, etc.) Teaching children the concept of paying tithing is actually a great way to begin to teach financial responsibility. It's also a good reminder to Mom and Dad that we have someone else to thank for the blessings we have, and a responsibility to share what we've been given with others.

One year after establishing the "saving jar," Jared had earned about $50 (and let me tell you, that represents a lot of job-inventing effort on Mom and Dad's parts!). Jared was about to turn six--really too big for a Power Wheels (at least the type in his price range), so Adam convinced him to set his sites on a FlashRider 360. For a birthday gift, we made up the rest of the money needed for the bike, and Adam took him to Target to make his purchase. Jared laid down all of his bills on the bright-red counter in exchange for his new bike. I think it was a good experience for him overall. Hopefully he's learned a little bit about the value of money and how to earn it (and I've learned that it can take a 6-year-old an entire year to earn just $50!)

We also want our kids to learn to save some of their money for bigger future expenses, like college and a mission. If we can find a time when the bank is open and Adam is home (which may be difficult), he'd like to take Jared and Allison to set up their own account where they can contribute some of their money to savings. I thought maybe we could make a little chart for each of them to help them keep track of how much is in their account (so they don't feel like they're tossing half their earnings into a black hole that they'll never visit again until they're 21). We're still toying with how to go about the bank idea...

Any ideas here? How have you taught your children financial responsibility? How have you learned it yourself--either from your own parents or from personal experience? 

The Sandbox

                                          

I grew up with a sandbox in my back yard. Not just any sandbox--a BIG sandbox. In our house in Salt Lake, my mom convinced my dad to build a 12x8-foot sandbox behind our back patio. I remember making mud pies with my twin sister and little brother. We would leave our sand cakes out to dry in the sun and "feast" on them the next day. We dug tunnels in the sand and holes deep enough to stand in up to our knees, and in the hot summer months we brought in the hose and made rivers and dams. When our family moved to Provo, my mom wanted another sandbox since our old one had gotten so much use. We kids helped her dig it, and my dad made the wooden edging (he said he was done digging after putting in our last sandbox). I remember our "grand opening" celebration. We had the neighbor kids over, cut a ribbon, ate Popsicles, and "flooded the sandbox." 18 years and eight kids later, my parents still have that sandbox. And now the grandkids play in it.

Last July marked the end of our own family's apartment days. After 7 years of living in small rented space, we finally had a home of our own--complete with back yard! Remembering my childhood spent in a sandbox, I soon scouted out a great place where our own sandbox could go: in the back yard along the fence, just beyond the kitchen window. I had visions of peacefully cooking dinner while monitoring the kids' sandbox play from that window. It would be perfect! Now I just needed someone to dig that hold for me...

Adam turned out to be that hole digger. It took some convincing, but once he realized that the sandbox was really important to me, he took up his shovel, chopped down a scraggly pine tree that was in the way, removed sod, and dug a 12x8x2-foot hole. Adam is the BEST! That was a LOT of dirt to dig out! We had several rainstorms during his week of digging, but he didn't let that slow him down. He cyphened out the mudhole each evening and dug until the job was finished. He also had to reroute a sprinkler pipe that extended into the sandbox area. Once the hole was dug, we purchased pressure-treated beams to serve as the edge around the sandbox. Adam did a nice job of fitting them together and using paving stones to make them level (since our yard slopes).

It would have cost over $300 to dispose of the extra dirt ourselves. Fortunately, we were able to use the wonders of Craigslist to get rid of our sod (The sod went really fast. Two ladies came and took most of it away. Adam and our neighbor Dan helped them load the sod into the back of their minivan and white Lexus. Not sure how that went over with the husband who owned the white Lexux...) Our dirt didn't go nearly as fast as the sod. But eventually someone contacted us who needed dirt to fill a landscaping pond in his yard, and he took it all. It took him three trips with his pickup truck, and then he came back the next day with his father-in-law, a flatbed trailer, and a bobcat to finish the job. It still took them all day to finish loading and hauling all the dirt that Adam had dug out by hand.

Next came the sand. I priced out play sand from Home Depot and figured it would run around $600-700 to fill our two-foot-deep sandbox! Pricey! So I tried calling local gravel companies. Tommy and I visited one that said they had sand we could use, but when they brought a sample over for me to feel, it was riddled with large pea gravel and left my hand muddy after touching it. After some more phone calls I finally found Beaver Gravel Co. in Noblesville, which sells #23 sand. Tommy and I made a visit to their impressive gravel processing site, and felt the sand. It was perfect! A few days later a large dump truck deposited 7 tones of #23 sand at the top of our driveway--for only $150.

The sand was a LOT easier to shovel into the sandbox than clay was to shovel out of the sandbox. Our church's missionaries and my sister who happened to be visiting at the time all helped us put the sand in the hole.

See below for a picture of our finished sandbox! Now both my kids and the neighbor kids go outside to play in it every day. I make dinner in a quiet kitchen and I have a perfect view of the sandbox kids from the window. Thank you, Adam, for making my dream come true!

                               Adam first took out our "Charlie Brown Tree" (as the tree evaluator called it)

                                     Removed all the sod with the help of our neighbors, the Perduns

                                      My sister Sarah and the kiddos atop the mountain of sand!

                                              Putting down landscape fabric at the bottom

                                                                      Dad's big helper

                               The Missionaries came to help. They sure were fast at moving that sand!

                                 Leveling off our border. Look at those 12-foot logs! (Thanks, Menards)

                                     
                                           All finished! Time for some summer fun in the sand!

14 Piano Students

If you enter my home on a Thursday or Friday after school, you will probably hear two things:

1. Piano music (or scales or hanons or fallboard tapping or a metronome ticking)
2. Muffled thumping, yelping, and other unidentifiable noises

The first sound can be attributed to any one of my fourteen piano students since Thursdays and Fridays are piano lesson days. Despite what you may be thinking, the second sound does not emanate from my coat closet where I have locked up bad students for practicing less than five days a week. Rather, it echoes up from the basement where my three kids and the siblings of the student at hand are all playing together. Most of the families I teach for have more than one student taking lessons from me. And they have younger siblings who have to wait around for them to finish their lessons. So I offer parents a discount if they watch my kids--along with their own--in the basement during lesson times. They pay less, my kids get to play with friends, and I get to teach uninterrupted. It works out pretty well for everyone.

I started teaching lessons here in Carmel, IN, last September. Within a few months my teaching schedule filled up and I had to start saying no to some interested students. I'm glad people in Carmel appreciate music and the arts and want their children to participate as well. Adam says that if he ever loses his job, he'll start teaching piano full-time while he looks for a new job. We laugh about it, but I'm pretty sure that's really his plan.

I like teaching because it gives me a chance to use my music skills to help others learn the gift of music. I enjoy the challenge of trying to teach to each student's needs. That's an ever-moving target, and I'm not perfect at it, but I'm getting better.

I started teaching piano lessons when I was fourteen years old. I charged $5 per weekly, half-hour lesson, and I would teach in the student's home. Over the course of high school I taught a handful of ward and neighbor kids who were just starting out on the piano. It was a great way to break into teaching. I got tips from my own piano teacher, and slowly I learned through experience what works and what doesn't (and just when I thought I had it figured out, I'd get a new student with a new personality and I'd have to start from scratch). I stopped teaching once I got engaged to Adam, and I didn't start again until two or three years later, when a mom in our Champaign, IL, ward asked me if I would teach her eight-year-old daughter. I taught about nine students over the course of our four years in Champaign, and then we moved to Carmel. Now we have a real house, a piano room, and a basement. Teaching here is much easier than trying to teach in our two-bedroom townhome.

A few weeks ago we had our first piano recital. Here is a picture of the kids. Aren't they cute?

The week before the recital, we had a practice recital at my house, pizza party, and a trip to Chuck E. Cheese to reward the students who made it into the "100 Point Club" (my twelve-year-old students opted for a music store gift certificate instead of Chuck E. Cheese, as you might imagine). It was a tiring evening, but a lot of fun.

And here's Jared and Allison playing in the recital. It was Allison's first. Notice how she pauses in the middle of her last song to look over and smile at her grandpa who was watching from the audience.

Allison Le Fashionista

Writing is supposed to be therapeutic, so I'll give it a try. We have recently discovered that Allison is VERY opinionated about fashion and which clothes she will and will not wear (and at which times of the day she will wear them, and in what combinations, all depending on the phases of the moon and maybe her hair day too. Or something cryptic like that). The other day she refused to wear jeans under her knee-length sweater. Somehow she knew leggings were more appropriate. We don't watch TV and I don't subscribe to any fashion magazines; and I'm certainly not a prime fashion example for her to learn from. So how she knew this fashion fact is beyond me.

Halloween night was another example of Allison's passion for fashion. She nearly didn't go trick-or-treating because she was morally opposed to wearing pants under her princess costume. "It's very cold outside," we reasoned with her. "You need to wear some pants." She whimpered  She cried. She wailed. She screamed! "These pants BOTHER me, Dad!" she cried, "There is a ruffle on the bottom of them and a ruffle on the dress, and that's TOO MANY RUFFLES!" But even when we presented her with a less-ruffly option, she was unhappy. No, that's an understatement. She was totally and utterly miserable. You might think this was just a big power struggle, but I could tell it wasn't as much about power for her as it was about having her outfit look and feel right. She wouldn't even wear tights as an alternative! For Allison, it was go bear-legged or don't go at all. I took the boys out to the block chili and costume party and left Adam with Allison. As we walked away, I suddenly remembered an incident at Church two Sundays prior. Allison wanted to wear some new Sunday shoes I had bought her (on clearance, for growing into). But they "bothered her" because they were too big. She threw such a fit in the parking lot that I let her go barefoot to church. It seemed like the only peaceable option. And now, on Halloween night, another clothing issue was barring the way. I crossed my fingers and wished Adam luck as we walked across our yard to the neighbor's house.

Ten minutes later, Adam and Allison joined us. Adam looked a little chagrined, but Allison was as cheerful as could be, prancing around in her princess costume... and wearing no pants. She was cold all evening, but stuck it out pretty well. And she was MUCH happier than she would have been wearing *bumpy old pants* under her pretty costume. Needless to say, Halloween night was a wakeup call for me and Adam. We then knew satisfying Allison le fashionista would be an ongoing challenge.

Which leads me into my main story. This morning we had some errands to run. I knew I needed to get an early start to dressing Allison if we wanted to get out of the house before 10:00. It's not easy to motivate her to get dressed, let alone find an outfit she will be satisfied with. (Jared and Allison are polar opposites in the morning: Jared bounds into our room at 6am, fully dressed and bursting with happy energy, and Allison crawls out of her bed, sleepy-eyed and with no intention of doing much beyond lounging on her bedroom floor in pajamas for an hour or so. I must admit, she is pretty cute in her pajamas.)

I suggested overalls and a long-sleeved shirt. She didn't like the shirt. So I suggested she pick a new one. She ended up wandered downstairs with Purple Blankie before finishing the task, so I helped her back up the stairs and we looked at some shirts together. She picked tie-dyed, short-sleeved top. But, she told me, she needed a different pair of pants. We went back downstairs and got a tan pair out of the dryer. It's too wet, she told me (maybe it was a little damp, or maybe it just felt cold. I'm guessing it was the latter). We finally found a winner, and she settled down to have breakfast.

Cheerios was the cereal of choice this morning, but unfortunately Mom poured her a bowl that was too small (probably because Mom noticed that she didn't finish her cereal yesterday morning). So that turned into a big deal. I finally poured more cereal on top and added milk, but by then the cereal underneath was soggy! I quickly realized that Allison was not going to eat a bite of half-soggy cereal, so I dumped it all down the drain and we started anew with a big bowl of fresh Cheerios. Okay. Problem solved.  I start working on Tommy's breakfast, and for about two and half minutes there is peace and quiet...

Until I hear, SPLASH--WAAAAAH!

I whip around. Allison has spilled her entire bowl of Cheerios right into her lap. And she is wailing. I grab a rag and start wiping her up. I force some reassuring words out of my mouth (although I wasn't feeling very patient right then). As I start soaking the milk out from under the baseboards, I ask her to go upstairs and change her clothes (yeah, right). Five minutes later, the milk was cleaned up and Allison had taken off her wet clothes (very good!). She was now down to underwear--and we were back to square one.

But don't worry, this story has a happy ending. Allison did end up finding some dry clothes (and putting them on, even thought the pants "bothered her"). And we even made it out for our errands (Allison in socks and no jacket or coat--the socks were bunching up in her shoes and bothering her, and coats always bother her in the car. She doesn't like the way they "puff up" under the car seat straps).

Luckily, it was a relatively warm November morning. And, also luckily, I had brought the double-stroller so her pink socks didn't have to get dirty at the store.

So now you've heard my stories. I hope they've given you a chuckle or two. Now can you give me some advice??

                                                               
                                                  Cute and sweet (and just a little opinionated),
                                                    Allison poses in her Snow White costume

Carmel, IN

From my last posts, you'd think we still lived in Fishers and that Tommy had just turned 18 months. Let me update...

We now live in a house in Carmel, Indiana (just north of Indianapolis). We are loving all the space and home perks like a garage, dishwasher, a basement, and a back yard. We have nice neighbors and lots of neighbor kids to play with.

Jared started Kindergarten this fall! He has adjusted to the long school day (mostly), and is now enjoying his class. I've been surprised by how advanced the kindergarten curriculum seems compared to what I imagine my kindergarten experience was. In writing time, Jared is learning to "draft out" his story first with pictures, then write a first draft, then revise it, and finally present the finished piece out loud to his classmates. He is also learning how to draw "real" people (no stick figures; guess I need to go back to kindergarten to improve my own sketches!). He rides the bus to school, and the stop is right on our driveway, which is nice. We even put out a little bench for the "bus stop kids" to sit on since everyone congregates in front of our house.

                                                     
                                                        Jared's first day of Kindergarten

Our kindergarten crew, waiting at the bus stop together

Mrs. Mann's Kindergarten Class 2012

Allison isn't in preschool this year, so we've been trying out some activities in the community. She just finished her first dance class last week. "Dance Games" turned out to be a lot of fun. She enjoyed getting dressed up in her dance outfit every Tuesday morning and having fun with her little dance friends. I think we'll try some ballet and tap next year.

 Tommy is getting quick on his feet--it's hard to keep up with him! He loves doing "bikes" in the driveway, driving toy cars, playing with Allison while Jared is at school, and watching for big trucks and construction equipment while we're driving in the car. Several weeks ago a neighbor had Jared and Allison over to play so I could do a "Mommy date" with Tommy. We packed a folding chair and fruit snacks, set up camp across the street from a large construction site across town, and spent the next 45 minutes oohing and aahing over the machines at work.

                                                           Watching the construction

                           At a local apple orchard (no apples, though. The drought was too severe)


Adam has been keeping busy doing science at Eli Lilly. I've enjoyed having him home all day every Saturday--even if our weekends do seem to get taken up with chores like stripping old wallpaper, installing sinks, and--most recently--clearing away a massive limb that split off of our big Bradford Pear tree during a storm. We are now well-stocked with firewood:

I've enjoyed getting my piano teaching going again. I have five students right now, and I may be picking up four more in the next couple of months. It's a fun thing to do on the side of my favorite job--being a mom.

Tommy Turns 18 Months

As of July 6th, Thomas is a toddler! This Sunday will be his first official day in Nursery. Luckily, he just learned to walk a couple of weeks ago, so now he's ready!

The last year and a half have been packed full of Tommy fun. He loves flashing his dimpled smile at anyone who gives him their attention. He also loves wrestling around, playing in piles of blankets and pillows, and bouncing around on the bed. His favorite way to show affection is to run up to you and crash his head against you in a zealous hug.

He also enjoys helping unload the dishwasher--especially if it involves taking silverware in and out of the silverware basket. He loves cars and trucks as much as Jared ever did (oh my!), and he is often content to play for half an hour just rolling a couple of Hot Wheels on top of a cardboard box.

Jared and Allison enjoy playing with and taking care of Tommy. They will always alert me if he's getting into mischief (if only he could return the favor!). One of their favorite activities is greeting him after his nap. They'll sneak into his room, climb in the crib with him, and then bounce around together.

Tommy's latest favorite food is bananas ("nana"). He's working on his words--right now he's up to about eleven. But before we know it, we'll be throwing his 100 word party.

We're so grateful to have such a smiley, cheerful little toddler in our family. Happy 18 months, Thomas!

Fishers, Indiana

A week ago today we moved all our stuff from Champaign, Illinois, to Fishers, Indiana (Just north of Indianapolis, where Adam works). It was a welcome sight after being in San Diego for a whole month. As fun as Southern California was, with its palm trees and beaches and five-star attractions, I'm really glad we will be raising our family in the Midwest. Now when I take all three kids to the park or a grocery store, instead of getting inquisitive stares from passers by, I see many families with two, three, or more young children. Last Saturday I went to Aldi (yes, they have them out here too!) and watched a nice family with five kids under the age of seven go through the store! As we were driving to our apartment for the first time, we got stuck in traffic (one of the few big disadvantages of living in family-friendly Fishers). I noticed that a lot of cars sport the alternate Indiana plate stating "In God We Trust." Turns out there are several plates you can choose from--all without additional charge--and a lot of people choose this one. The radio airs conservative political advertisements, To rephrase the words of the sweet and exuberant greeter lady at Meijer (who is armed daily with a large tupperware of dum-dum suckers), "Children are very, very special to us here [in Fishers]!"

In looking up information on this town, I came across an article from 2010 where Fishers made it into CNN Money's top ten places to live. As one interviewed mother of two said, "It's very easy to live here." I guess we'll find out whether or not she's right. ;)

Now the thing that isn't so great is Adam's commute. He has tried a different route every day during his first week of work, and the evening drive time has ranged from 49 to 60 minutes. Every day. With the price of gas, that drive is going to cost us a pretty penny. But everyone we talk to says living north of the city is unequivocally worth it. Maybe we can work out a carpool system with other Lilly employees from our stake. In the meantime, Adam plans to keep well-stocked on audio books and podcasts.

We still aren't out of boxes yet, but that's partially good since we are hoping to find a home of our own sometime this summer. Tomorrow is our first day looking at houses. As the realtor was asking about our preferences a few weeks ago, I refrained from telling her that anything with more than two bedrooms and in which Thomas won't have to nap in the bathroom sounds just great to me. Our current three-bedroom apartment already feels luxurious, even with the remaining boxes scattered around. On our first day here, a group of three 9-year-old girls  wandered over and asked us if we had just moved in. They introduced themselves, told us a little about their families and our quad in general (don't take a walk through the bushes on the far side--there's poison ivy. Good to know.). They then asked if they could help me carry things in from our car. Elizabeth, Daniella, and Mona with her two younger siblings are all sweet kids, and they have been great back-yard playmates for Jared and Allison each day this week.

This has been a springtime of adventures. And it looks like summer will keep us busy too. We're two hours further from our family in the west than we were in Champaign, but we're three hours closer to the airport. And now we can better afford to fly. So in my mind that's equivalent to "quite a bit closer" than we were before. At least, that's what I like to tell myself. :)