Mom is Selling Her House!

Fingers crossed that this works out, but as I write this, my mom has accepted an offer for her house. This is exciting and sad and scary. If all goes well, it will keep her from wasting all her income on maintaining a single family house. She spent thousands of dollars this past winter just on snow removal! But it does worry me a little about turning her biggest asset into cash, as cash has a way of slipping through my mother's fingers very quickly. At one point she talked about putting a lot of the proceeds in trust for me and my sister, but I am not sure if she still plans to do that. If she doesn't, I do worry that she'll start blowing a lot of cash on moving expenses, storage expenses, buying new stuff, decorating whatever new place she moves into, etc.
And it's sad to think that my childhood home won't be part of our family life anymore. It's the only home I ever knew, as I was only 9 months old when my parents bought the house. My father once said he had figured it would be a starter home, and that they'd someday move to a bigger house, but the day when he felt he could afford it never arrived.
But in some ways, the house I fondly remember is already gone. Since my father died, my mother has thrown out so many things and changed so much about the house. To me, it has barely a trace of personality or identity to it any more. It smells like floor polish, paint fumes and scented candles now, not like oriental rugs and books. It will be strange not to have a home base in my old town, though. I've always loved going back during the summer, when I could walk a half mile down to a beach where I could take an icy-cold swim, or just walk and sit and think. My mother might move back there someday, but in the near future, she'll move to my grandmother's house so she can help take care of her, and after that, she may end up wanting to live closer to my sister. My sister's house will be where I go when I say I'm going "home" to visit my family. I guess that's how it goes, this shifting over the years as you become less centered on your parents and more centered on the next generation. My niece and nephew are now their own little people, with such distinctive personalities. It hit me the other day that I only have a few more years before they vanish into the black hole of teenagerdom. I have to spend as much time as possible with them now while they are still kids, and then wait a while until they emerge into adulthood-- perhaps that is a bleak view, but I'm trying to prepare myself for a few years where they'll be uncommunicative and think I'm a big nerd rather than their fun, wacky aunt!
Here's the funny thing-- my mother copied both of the kids on her email to my sister and me about her house sale! I asked her why, especially as she was telling us not to tell anyone until the deal was done, and I thought the kids would be the most likely to blab. It turns out they watch some of those real estate TV shows, so they've been quite interested in my mother's whole process, and she trusts them not to tell.
Let's hope there is more news to tell soon!

The Dilemma of Asking For and Accepting Help

I keep thinking about a friend I'll call Edna. Edna is a divorced mother of two. Because she's had to juggle child care, her job history over the past 15 or so years has been rather checkered-- nothing bad has happened, but she's had to stitch together various part time jobs that would allow her to be there for her kids. She'll do pretty much anything, from cleaning out someone's basement to cold-call selling on a commission-only basis to bartending, but many of her jobs have been temporary so she's never had a chance to really establish herself in a career. Her husband has paid child support, but she's just barely made ends meet-- one of the kids is now old enough to have her own part time job, and she made more money last year than Edna did. I learned this fact during a dinner when another friend of Edna's urged her to apply for food stamps, which Edna did not want to do.

The friend's argument was that these government assistance programs exist precisely for people like Edna-- she does her best to find sources of income but is trying to look after her kids without being a burden to anyone. Her income in some years is basically at or below poverty level though there are times when she manages to do better. Shouldn't she accept some help?
But Edna hates to ask for help, which leads us to another fascinating aspect of her situation: Edna's parents are quite wealthy.
They have several other children. Some of those children have been given quite a bit of financial assistance-- particulary the male children: there seems to be just enough of a generational gap that girls were seen as needing only to find a husband, while boys needed education... and cars and clothes and apartments and so on. But although they've occasionally paid Edna to do work for them, they are otherwise very stingy with her. They barely even give gifts to Edna's kids, and when they do, there's often a whiff of goodie-bag re-gifting about it. Edna hates to ask them for anything, and rarely does, but at one point she reluctantly reminded them of an offhand promise they'd once made to chip in when it came time to pay for sending Edna's kids to college-- this time they kind of winced and alluded to money being tight for them... but of course this is in the context of them having two luxurious homes where they do lots of entertaining, and other trappings of an upper-class life.

I'm way over-simplifying the situation here to avoid too many identifying details, not to mention writing a mile-long post, but it's an interesting dilemma, isn't it? Should someone who is not wealthy herself but has a wealthy family turn to government for assistance? Is it the family's obligation to help her first? Some will no doubt say "neither" but what is someone in such a situation supposed to do? Leave her kids unattended? Pay money she doesn't have for day care programs? Edna's ex-husband is a mess, so he's not much help. It's hard to imagine anyone being more responsible and less prima-donna-ish than Edna... but she just can't seem to make all this work on her own.
Within a few years, both of her kids will be in college, and whether or not they get financial aid, that will be another drain on her resources, even if it does free up her time for a full-time job. But she's already been looking, and it's tough-- with the resume of a stay-at-home-mom who's fit odd jobs in around child-rearing, she's not going to be the most attractive job candidate in a climate like today's, where employers can probably be more picky. But she did mention that she will be going on a second interview for a job that pays about $40,000 a year, an amount she referred to as "life-changing."

Interestingly enough, she told me about the potential job while we were both at the home of another friend who has become something of an art collector. As I was listening to Edna, I was looking up at a painting above the fireplace that supposedly cost $50,000. It was such a collision of worlds... and it leads me to one more facet of these kinds of situations among friends:

Whenever Sweetie and I have dinner with Edna, we'll often cook something at home in order to avoid the issue of whether Edna can afford to go out. Sometimes we do end up going out, and sometimes we'll just pick up the check ourselves and tell Edna it's our treat-- but again, Edna has a lot of pride and won't always let us do that. The art collector friend hadn't seen Edna in a long time and invited us all to visit for a weekend in the country. I had thought we'd just be barbequeing, but we went out to dinner one night, and when the check came, we all split it evenly. I guess on one level that's totally fair, and just because one person makes 10 (or 20 or 100) times more than another doesn't mean it's their obligation to pay. But I personally think that if you invite someone to spend the weekend with you, they are your guest for the whole weekend, which means the host should cover the dinner bill, while the guest will hold up their end of the bargain by bringing wine or some sort of gift and offering to chip in for dinner but not arguing too much when the hosts insist that they'll get it. That rule doesn't have to be set in stone-- maybe going out to dinner one night is the thank-you gift to the host/hostess, to show your appreciation and relieve them from having to cook so you can all just relax and talk. But in this situation it seemed a little insensitive...

Kidzania: Work as Play

This is the most fascinating thing I've read this week, an article about a chain of theme-parks for kids where they can play at... real life! State of Play

Right now, in eight malls spread across three continents, thousands of children are dressed as pilots and flying digital planes from mock cockpits, anchoring news broadcasts in fully functional TV studios, or wearing helmets and extinguishing faux flames with real water cannons. This is KidZania, a multinational chain of family entertainment centers, where kids try out professions that have been downsized, simplified, and made fun. At these soccer field-size franchises in malls from Tokyo to Lisbon, children play at being adults. Children can play surgeon, detective, journalist, courier, radio host, and dozens more jobs. They can buy and sell goods at the KidZania supermarket, take KidZania currency that they earn to an operational bank staffed with adult tellers, and be security guards escorting KidZania currency around the park. They can assemble burgers and pizzas, which they can then eat, or give makeovers to other paying children. At the planned KidZania Santiago, Chile, minors will be able to play at being miners. One-size-fits-all costumes supersize the cute factor. The result of all this is mass-produced adorability.

I'm sure when I was a kid I would have thought this was really cool-- it's like a miniaturized world where you can do "real stuff." But there are pros and cons. It's good that it teaches kids about earning money at a job and using that money to buy things. But it's a little creepy that the corporate sponsorship makes it seem like kids are being indoctrinated into a branded world. Also, as critics have pointed out, it's not very creative. By putting kids in an environment where everything has been realistically reproduced, you leave nothing left for them to imagine. Kids can happily use a cardboard box to play restaurant or bank or doctor's office, without McDonald's or HSBC or Crest having to sponsor it. Also, visiting KidZania is pretty expensive-- in Tokyo, it costs $150 for a family of 4, which seems a little steep given all the advertising you're subjected to. What do you think? Would you take your kids to KidZania?

The Silly Bandz Fad

Have you heard about Silly Bandz? If you have a grade school age child, I suppose you must have. The last time I visited my niece and nephew, they were playing with these colorful little rubber bands that vaguely resemble animals and other shapes when they're laid flat. Apparently all the kids at school have gone so bonkers for these things that the teachers have had to send notes home, asking parents not to let kids bring them to school. But of course the kids do anyway, stuffing their collections into little Ziploc bags so they can show them off and trade with their friends. I thought it might just be a local trend, until a friend of mine in a different part of the country posted a plea on Facebook asking if other parents knew where she could buy Silly Bandz, as one of her kids wanted to give them to her sibling as a birthday present.

I was trying to remember if there was any big fad item like this when I was in grade school-- I know there were things when I was a bit older, in junior high school: stickers, barrettes with little strawberries painted on them, a certain kind of lip gloss. But it's not surprising for kids to want status items when they're anxious pre-teens. My niece is only 6, so I was kind of surprised that younger kids like that would be so caught up in a fad. Perhaps it's less about peer pressure and status than just the wantability of the item itself-- but it's not like it's a toy that's fun to play with in and of itself-- it's just a rubber band that you wear as a bracelet, and collect and trade with your friends, which seems to make it more of a social necessity. It's nice to know that kids can still get enthusiastic about simple things that don't need batteries, but it's also a little disturbing to think that kids can start to feel like they need material things for social success at such a young age. For what it's worth, my niece had apparently been given a couple of Silly Bandz by her best friend even though she had none of her own to trade, and as far as I know, she hadn't yet been begging my sister to buy her some. But of course the minute my mother heard about them, even though she knew the teachers were outlawing them, she went out and bought my niece and nephew each a great big bag of them!

At least they're not too expensive... from prices I've seen online, Silly Bandz seem to cost less than 25 cents per band.

A Weekend in the D.C. Suburbs

Not long ago, I spent a weekend down in the Washington, D.C. area. (Unfortunately I didn't get to say hello to SingleMa and Mapgirl.) Let's just introduce the family I was visiting, who are related to Sweetie:

Greg, a lawyer
Beatrix, who has a master's degree in international relations, but is now mainly a stay-at-home mom with a part-time job.
Flopsy (12) and Mopsy (10), their two daughters
Peter (8), a neighborhood friend who came over to play

The family lives in a nice suburban area not too far from downtown D.C.-- and when I say nice, I mean really nice-- large, beautifully manicured lawns surrounding what you'd have to call McMansions, most in brick with a vaguely Colonial look. The nearby public schools are good, but most of the kids go to private schools-- Flopsy and Mopsy already do, and Peter will transfer to one next year. The whole neighborhood gives an impression of upper-upper-middle-class security and it's hard to imagine these kids not remembering their childhood as idyllic-- and the kids themselves are smart and sweet and polite, with a certain pre-teen innocence that is refreshing and charming. I know this all sounds a bit too nauseatingly sweet to be true, but it kind of is! I think Beatrix is a really good mom and the girls don't seem at all spoiled-- at least, not yet!

But of course anything that seems so perfect really isn't. It's not that there's anything terribly dark to report, but Greg is constantly at work, and despite that, apparently doesn't have great career prospects because he's not billing enough hours or landing new clients. This has led to some anxiety about the family budget. Of course this is all relative: they have a great house with a pool, and two high-end cars, and take the kids on vacations to fun places. But those private school bills are a killer-- $30,000 a year each for the two girls. So they've postponed doing some renovations to the house for the moment until things stabilize.

One of Greg's ideas to make things stabilize was that Beatrix must get a full-time job that makes at least $100,000. He apparently doesn't realize that such jobs can't just be had with the snap of a finger! (He also refused to make any accommodations in his own schedule to help keep the household managed if she started to work full time.) Beatrix is highly educated and capable, but like many moms, her jobs have been steadily declining in prestige and challenge since she has prioritized taking care of her kids. At this point, she is trying to land a totally administrative job at their private school-- their education is her top priority, and she wants the discount on the tuition. Anyway, that is all I really know about the family finances, but of course I found it interesting!

Back to the details of my visit:
I have visited the family on several occasions and was quite a hit with Flopsy and Mopsy. They are really into art, and once they found out I could draw, they kept requesting pictures of various animals, girls in ballgowns, and fairies. They also seem to just like the fact that I'll meet them more than halfway in various sorts of imaginative play, unlike some of the other adults around, who don't really want to get that involved. If they want to play charades, I'll ham it up. If they want to play teacher, I'm a very silly student. And this time, they wanted to play "Town," a game which involved paper wallets full of play money-- little squares of green paper were $5 bills, and pink squares were $1 bills-- and we'd each run a business in the town and buy things from each other.
They immediately wanted me to run the "art store," which was fine with me. Flopsy set herself up with the town printing business, so I asked for some signage for my art store. Mopsy was running the post office, so I sent out invitations to my gallery opening. Peter was assigned to run a supply store, where I could purchase additional sheets of paper and avail myself of his pencil-sharpening service. I started cutting up small pieces of paper and doing small drawings on them. I created a price list for these beautiful works, as well as gift certificates for art lessons. And business was booming!
Then I decided to work in some financial education. I asked the stationery store to print up invoices and a sales and expense ledger for my art store, so I could keep proper accounting. I suggested that Mopsy run a bank as well as the post office, where we could deposit our hard-earned pink and green paper. Flopsy was assigned to print up bank books, and I had to explain that banks didn't always have electronic machines that would spit out a record of how much money you had! Then I got Mopsy to start lending out the deposits so Flopsy and Peter would have more money to spend at my art store. Playing town became more like playing "economy," and I think the kids got a kick out of all these new elements I'd introduced to their game.

One final note on the visit: we went out to dinner one night in the downtown area of their suburb. It was hopping! I was impressed that the downtown area seemed to be thriving and all the restaurants and stores were busy. Sweetie pointed out that it's probably because D.C. hasn't lost all the finance jobs that New York has. It's not like all the restaurants here are empty, but what's really noticeable in New York these days is all the empty retail space-- the difference was striking.

Well, that's my report from the trenches! It will be interesting to see how things go for this family over the next few years...