10/355: Choices

Two nights ago, Max asked me if his neighbor buddy could sleepover. I said, "sure". The neighbor went back to his house to ask permission, but then returned saying, "My mom says that I made bad choices today, so I can't sleep over." Hmmmm, bad choices, eh? We all do them sometimes. Something to think about I guess.

Max got his bike stolen a couple of months ago. He hasn't harped to get a new bike, but I've been tired watching him sit on the couch on a nice summer day playing video games. Knowing that he still had about $130 in birthday money leftover, I suggested that we check out a neighborhood bike shop to see what they have. Just window shopping, no real purchasing. Max was cool with that. He is aware of my cash flow issue.

We saw that their bikes were top end, averaging about $350, but it was a worthwhile visit nevertheless. The sales guy, who looked like a serious bike man himself, spent a lot of time with us sizing up specific bikes and seat heights with Max and even sharing their trade in policies, just in case we wanted to make their shop our regular bike shop. Those bikes looked very high quality and I'm sure worth the price, but I could only imagine myself putting away $10 at a time in an envelope to buy at Christmastime. It's an idea. In fact, it would be really cool to see his face light up on Christmas morning, much like when he was 4 or 5 years old.

I felt that familiar feeling of not being the kind of provider that I wish I could be for my kids, the kind that can plop down a credit card any old time and help bring an instant smile to my kids' faces. But I'm a different kind of mom. A wait and save kind. Boring.

Even though Max seemed fine and wasn't bothered by not leaving with a bike, he never expected to do so, I felt a strong urge to suggest that we walk to the nearby Dairy Queen to get Blizzards for him and his sister back home. And, of course, a mini sized Blizzard for me. It was only a $10 expense, but it made me think that I just negated the lesson about saving that I was trying to instill. Isn't taking out $10 every time you want ice cream a good way to keep savings goals far from reach? Wouldn't it have been a better lesson to instead buy a couple of 50 cent cups of lemonade from the kid on the corner and save $9 for the cool bike?

I'm such a dork. That would have been the much better choice, but instead I spent money that I shouldn't have to assuage my own feelings. The ice cream was an emotional purchase.

I hope that in the future I'm a lot more mindful the next time I am faced with guilt. I need to buck up and just suck it up, knowing, well, at least hoping, that I'm doing the best job that I can in raising kids that have better relationships with their feelings and money.