Sunday, August 30, 2009

Fiscal Lesson Too Soon?

On the way to church today, Jacob said, "I want to buy a house."


I could tell from the corner of my eyes that Joel lit up as I did with the opportunity for a life lesson here. I started off by saying, "That's a great goal to have, Jake! Start thinking about that now, because houses are really expensive today, and will be even more so when you're an adult."


Joel took the baton from there, saying that college would be pricey, too. We tag-teamed with tidbits about fiscal reponsibility such as credit card usage, savings accounts versus stocks, how much of of his allowance he should be socking away in each jar (the "cross" jar is for church and charity, the "$" jar is for savings, the "Jacob" jar is for spending), how he really needed to strive to get his chores done every day, how financial guru Dave Ramsey's kid was challenged to buy a car and saved enough money for a luxury model, how he could get a lawn-mowing job someday, how his dad wishes he had bought a house decades ago, but that buying it together made it more "our" house, the proper order for life moments (read "college, career, marriage, kids") ...


Amidst all this excited chatter from his parents, I noticed that Jacob was noticeably absent in this conversation. I glanced back to see his head tilted all the way back, mouth fully open, eyes closed. And I heard him mutter, "Or maybe I don't."


OK, so maybe the stocks piece was a bit too much?

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

So Far, Yet So Close

Have you met Tracey, my sister? If you happen to see me around Facebook, you've been subjected to a healthy dose of sisterly banter about everything from road trips to purses.



Growing up, we were separated by just two years and 303 days. Sometimes a wall separated our beds, sometimes just a few feet. We fought. Oh, how we fought. The topics didn't always matter ... it might have been a snatched toy, a misplaced record. The fight that is perhaps best-remembered (especially by our grandmother) involved my sister screeching at me when I wasn't even home. She had painstakenly ironed her creme shorts, then jumped into the shower. While she was otherwise occupied, I spotted the perfectly pleated pair and -- without even a second's hesitation -- I grabbed the shorts, put them on, and left to go out with my friends. My grandmother still shudders at the aftermath.



We sleep a little farther apart now. About 2,342 miles apart, really. She's still in Michigan, I'm in San Diego. We're separated in other ways, too. She's a homeschooling pioneer and a Republican, I'm a school district administrator and a Democrat. But no matter how far apart we are in politics and lifestyles, I can't help but put her on my list of those I admire most. She's a fantastic mother, wife and all-around human being. She's not afraid to stand up for what she believes in, and her activism continues to grow. I may not always agree with the opinion she's voicing, but I love her conviction and courage. Tracey and her husband are the godparents to my 7-year-old son ... and I have no doubt that he would be in the absolute best of hands if something were to happen to my husband and me.



My sister and I only see each other twice a year, and I truly hate that. Once we set dates for trips we begin to count wake-ups until we get to hang out again ... even if it's months in advance. Our sister time is often filled with boutique shopping, jewelry making, photography chatting and blog sharing (check out her Building Cathedrals blog). My folks love that their girls are best friends. And she truly is my best friend. She's the one I turn to when I've had a tough day, when I have a karaoke goof, when I want to share an experience from my travels, or when I need to make sense of a motherhood moment.



During my last trip to see her in June, I vented about wishing we could live within driving distance. She agreed, but then put it all into perspective for me. She told me that she knows sisters who live a few towns away, but they spend less cumulative time together in a year than she and I do across the span of a couple of trips. Access doesn't necessarily mean quality time. She's right. And while I wish I could drop by for a chat or a hug, I know that she's just a text, tweet, status update or phone call away.