Rich Mom, Poor Mom

One reason I didn't want to do homeschooling is because I can't invest a lot of money into it, and therefore I felt unqualified. A person with an abundance of monetary resources could put their kids in all sorts of really amazing extra curricular activities that there would be no time for if they were at public school. One of my friends started homeschooling partially to give her amazingly talented gymnast more time to practice gymnastics; the dueling schedules of school and gymnastics made family time crazy, so she had the practical wisdom to homeschool in order to make it work better. The college kids I met on campus that had been homeschooled were not only much more mature than those who had gone to public school, but they also had rich backgrounds in dance, drama, art, music, sports, etc. More so than the ones who had gone to public school. Why? Because they had the flexibility and time that homeschool allows, but also their parents must have had the financial means to provide such enrichment.

I so very much envy the homeschooled LDS teenagers at Alamo West Coast Swing Club who have been taking ballroom dance classes since age 10. For one, I wish I'd been able to have that opportunity as a kid. Heck, I wish I could do that now. But more so, I wish I could afford to give my own kids that opportunity.

A woman at Acting Up is 39, has kids ages 4 and 6. She's been married longer than me, and worked before having kids. She's much more established and can "afford to stay home." She puts her kids in everything: they have memberships to the zoo, children's museum, botanical garden, Sea World. "Oh, it's a great deal. Only $XX/year. So worth it. And, hurry and get your season pass to the Magik Theater before the price goes up: only $100." She says she has them in all these enrichment activities because she wants her children to have every opportunity that she didn't have growing up. I really don't think she is giving me all these recommendations because she wants to brag; I think she honestly thinks these things are affordable to everyone and doesn't know why anyone wouldn't do the same for their kids.

And it's true that a lot of these things aren't that much money. But if you add them all up, it's more than I can afford. For instance, $5 per person = $25 for our family of 5. That's 1/4th my projected grocery budget for the week. So do we go see the play or do we buy peanut butter?

It's not just the homeschooling families that are able to give more to their kids. Megan's friends at church are in Girl Scouts and ballet. These are the people I don't think live beyond their means, so we must just be very poor. Megan keeps asking to take a dance class. My heart breaks and I want to cry every time I have to say "we can't afford it." I hate for them to feel poor, and I wish I could say yes more often.

As it is, I cringe to think about the money I am spending to put James in Acting Up. He tells me every week that Thursday is his favorite day of the week because he loves going to Theater Class. I know it is doing him good, giving him the much needed speech and social practice he needs, which is the only way I can justify to myself the expense. Even so, I hate that I have to forfeit putting him in dance (hip hop would be his preference) or Stone Oak Group Therapy (for Aspergers). And after attending the (free) Capoeira performance at the Carver Cultural Center, I ached to get James involved in it again. He was so good at it!

Megan and Isaac don't exactly act jealous that James is in something and they are not, probably only because they don't see him going to his extra curricular class. But how could they not be jealous? After all, James was the one who had been in Capoeira before, and neither of them have yet been given a turn to take a class. Am I favoring James because he has Aspergers? How could they understand that he needs these activities for more than fun and entertainment or even the development of talents?

Often times, I envy those that already got their degrees, lived their dream career, and then had kids late in life so they could afford to give their kids so much. I don't mind doing without cell phones, cable TV, video game systems, and home upgrades. I don't really mind driving a small peeling car without door handles and a drivers' side window that doesn't work. I can even deal with delaying my own education and giving up on the dream of a travel agent who actually travels, and a hundred other dreams I had before having children. I willingly accept the time commitment to track down sales and match coupons, despite my loathing for shopping. I find gratification by eating by the sweat of my brow the delicious tomatoes and cantaloupes grown in my backyard than to chew the tasteless globes that go by the same name in the grocery store. I don't mind hanging up clothes on the line every day, or only eating out once a month or on special occasions. I willingly take the risk of no health insurance, and paying out of pocket when I do get sick, just as willingly as Rex forgoes chiropractic help for his chronic pain. ...it's the things I can't give my kids that makes being poor hurt the most.

But then I think of all the valuable things I can give them and that I can experience as a stay-at-home-mom when many would say I should be out earning more money to provide for them. As annoyed as I get at escaping to my room only for my kids to come knocking 2 minutes later, I truly love how they want to come in just to be with me. I savor the moment when my daughter asks to help me grate cheese and brags to Dad at dinner that she helped me make it. I enjoy clipping coupons with her and showing her how to file them while talking about how most of those coupons would end up in the trash anyway because we don't eat that kind of junk. I simply glow when my youngest asks me to remind him to save his money for the book fair the next time he begs me to spend his money on a toy. I relish the lightbulb that turns on when I show examples to my son about how class distinction in feudal Japan isn't so different from America today. I am impressed when he takes out the trash or empties the dishwasher without being asked because he knew it would make me happy, even though he didn't want to do it. (Score HUGE points for an Asperger kid!) I'm quite happy to know that my children get a TON less screen time (computer, TV, hand-held-devices) than other kids and are/will be a whole heck of a lot more well-adjusted in a socially incompetent generation. I know I am absolutely lucky that my children still exercise their imaginations, build sandcastles in the giant sandbox I made, and create lego buildings from scratch instead of a kit. I'm much happier that they ride their bikes and jump on the trampoline rather than wiggle in front of the Wii. I'm even overjoyed that it is me that gets to answer their questions about the birds and the bees. And you know what? My kids get all these life experiences and lessons without me forking out a single penny or taxiing them across town in order to get these opportunities. Maybe I can't give them piano lessons or ballet classes. Maybe they will never go to the Grand Canyon or Disney World. Maybe I can't hand them a Nintendo DS or cell phone. Maybe they are the last to see the latest movie because they had to wait for it to go to the Dollar Theater. Maybe they aren't on a soccer team or in little league, but they get to kick a soccer ball or throw a football with dad and learn to split wood in the backyard like a man. And I still make sure they get some indulgences, even if they are small like going to Baskin Robbins for an ice cream cone that costs $2.50 while I try not to think of the half gallon at Walmart for $5. Or like going to the Children's Museum (that makes me want to pull my hair out) on their free night, or reserving Saturdays as family days where we try out a new park or free community event. But most importantly, the one thing they don't go without is ME. And without all the extra time-consuming trimmings, they have a LOT of me. Hopefully, when they are grown, they will look back and be glad that they had time with me instead of piano lessons.

And when they're grown, maybe I'll finally be able to get to some of those dreams. After all, I'll only be 44 when my youngest is 18...and everyone will think I'm 30. (Hehe!) Even when I can't afford what my peers and my kids' peers have, I am blessed to be a stay-at-home-mom at this time in my life. If I'd known what it would be like before I had kids, I wouldn't have had them. But knowing what it's been like, I'm sure glad I did. It makes me a very rich poor mom.

NOTE: Apparently, I've said this before in Sailing With Destiny, but this particular post deals mostly with the fact that I don't have the money to give them what I think I should be giving them. The conclusion is the same, however, as it was in 2009, that this way is better.