Learning How To Be a Financial Grown Up

Although many different sources are doing their best to make us believe the recession is over, anyone who knows anyone who is unemployed or underemployed knows better. I hardly think the ongoing store closings (RIP Smith & Hawken) are a signal that happy days are here again. Things are far from “back to normal” and, if you’re like me, you’ve come to believe we are still in the early stages of adjusting to a “new normal” when it comes to our finances and earning power.

While many of us in Westchester are fortunate enough to live in areas where its’s not as dire as it is in many other parts of the country, I’m going to venture a guess that every one of us has had to reassess where we’ve been spending our money and make the necessary adjustments.

I’ve always been a recreational shopper—but it was motherhood, not the recession that caused me to re-examine where my disposable income was going. How many cashmere sweaters and pairs of designer shoes does one woman need when she’s got a whole slew of new child-related expenses to consider? The answer is a lot less than I already own. The New York Times once did a story on my shoe collection just to give you an idea of what we’re talking about here.

Preschool, music classes, kids’ clothes, and a never-ending list of presents to buy for what seems like weekly birthday parties is where most of my “extra money” (and I’m using this term very loosely) goes these days.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining. I’m actually thankful that being a mother finally has made me act like a grown-up when it comes to finances. I shudder to think of the money I spent over the last 20 years on “things” that were absolutely unnecessary. I’m not talking about trips to Europe or summer vacations. Those experiences were well worth it. I’m talking about all the mindless shopping that, if I were to add up the receipts from those “retail therapy” sessions, would likely come up to what I could use as a down payment on a house.

Okay, hindsight is 20/20. All I can do is adopt a far more practical and conscious approach to spending—and I have.

This might be bad news for merchants all over Westchester, but when it comes to recreational shopping, I’m over it.

I’ll admit that my daughter has a wardrobe of designer kids’ clothes—but everything (all right, mostly everything) was bought on sale. When it comes to shopping for her, whether it’s for a new winter coat or the best place for her to take a class, I’m that consumer who always has that discount coupon (thank you, Lord & Taylor!), who will compare prices and find out about a return policy and, if need be, ask for a free trial even if one isn’t being offered. If something isn’t on sale, I’m not buying it. (Good luck to the stores who have offered such deep discounts over the last year—it will be nearly impossible to expect anyone to buy anything at full price again.)

Much has been written about how the recession’s silver lining has made people focus on “what really matters.” I don’t know about you, but parenthood pretty much did that for me.

What the recession has done is driven the point home on a daily basis—when you pick up the paper and see all these stores and businesses that are failing or have failed because people are no longer shopping until they drop. Which, in the long run, is not a bad thing at all.

Also, isn’t it interesting that suddenly so many of these “designer companies” that had us believing that their higher prices were justified because of the quality of their products are able to discount their wares but are so empathetic about the idea that the quality remains the same? Three-hundred-dollar jeans, anyone? No thanks—the Mossimo “premium denim” jeans from Target suit me just fine.

I am determined to teach my daughter the value of money. I want her to respect how it is made and the value of saving it. At four-and-a-half, she gets an “allowance” on Saturday morning after my husband and I have thanked her for helping around the house (she makes her bed, puts her toys away, and helps me straighten up in the mornings before school). I don’t think she’s quite made the connection between the “jobs” she does and the financial reward, but we’re sticking with it.

I know we must be on to something. The other day, before we left to go to town, I heard some noise coming from her room—she was jostling her bank and emerged with a big smile on her face.

“Here, Mommy,” she said, depositing a handful of quarters on the table.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

“You’ve been a good mommy this week and I wanted to pay for your parking meter today since you never have any quarters,” she said.

I think we’re on the right track.