Money-Shaping Childhood Memories

I was going to comment on The Baglady's post today How Do Childhood Memories of Money Affect Your Money Habits? but the topic intrigued me so much I had to write a whole post (her tales are priceless, so please check them out!).

I have three distinct money memories from childhood:

"We're Saving Money"
I must have been 6 or 7, and we were going through the Drive Thru at McDonalds. I wanted a happy meal, and my mother said no. I thought it was a terrible, pointless injustice. "But I want one," I'm sure I must have whined, not understanding why my loving mother would deprive me. I don't remember her exact words, but she told me we were saving money for our new house and pointed out that the happy meals cost more. "Every dollar counts" she said simply when, after a thoughtful pause, I attempted to justify this one purchase despite the new information I'd just received.

This was the first time I think I realized that some things cost more than other things and that piece of information is (or should be) part of the decision making process. It also is the first time I encountered the concept of saving for something. My parents had made me put my pennies in the piggy bank, but I'd never realized there was a further point to that habit. In addition, I was stung by the idea that something - money - was determining what I could and could not have. I think that might have been the planting of the seed that made me determined to have plenty of money for whatever I might want to buy.

"They have no idea how much money we have"
A little later, before we moved to that new house, my mom found me crying in my bed. She had to ask me repeatedly what was the matter, and I finally confessed that my best friend had said her parents had more money than my parents. She proved it by pointing out her much bigger house across the street - it had two stories and a much bigger yard. My mom laughed, which confused me.

Most moms would say it doesn't matter how much money you have, that there are many with much less, or some version of "you are special no matter what." But my mom said something else. "Sweetie we don't have any idea how much money they have," she said smiling gently. Then, more assertively, "and they don't have any idea how much we have either."

I knew money was to be found and kept in the bank, but not until then did I realize that was important - apparently even more important than what you could buy with the money. She explained that they might have a big house, but maybe they emptied all their bank accounts to buy it and will be in big trouble if they need more money for something. She said lots of people spend all their money on pretty things, but she assured me that we had plenty of money in the bank which gave us lots of security. I went to bed relieved, and a little smug. Cognizant for the first time of security.

"She Took My Money!"
Before we moved we participated in a huge community garage sale/flea market at the Superdome. I collected all my money in a little pink zipper wallet - a few dozen pennies and several precious dollars. I wandered around all day, looking at what I might purchase. Once I went to the bathroom and set my wallet on the toilet paper dispenser, where I left it when I walked out. Immediately I realized my mistake and turned right around to go back in. A lady had just entered my stall, so I waited impatiently, shifting my weight. Then I went cold: I'd heard the zipper unzip. I heard all my precious pennies being poured. I was frozen. I watched helplessly as the woman exited the stall, angry at myself for not saying anything. She'd left the wallet, along with the pennies, but she'd taken all the dollars.

Source of the Influence
I never realized until now that all those things happened within just a year or so, during our family's saving and preparation for moving. Lesson: there's a small window when a child forms his/her perceptions about money, economics, financial values. Mine was from ages 5.5-7.5. Take the time to plant the messages you want to stick.

I never realized until now that my mom was the significant shaper of my ideas about money. Strange, because my father was the one who was always frugal, taught us to look at prices, implemented (unsuccessfully) various allowance strategies, took us to open our first savings accounts, etc. All that is important, of course, but it was the unconscious, probably forgotten words and smiles from my mother that shaped my first and very basic feelings about money. Because of her I value security over all things, I learned that saving is non-negotiable, and I realized I never had to be jealous of others because you never know what their financial situation is.

I also observed how money can give you real pleasure (in the years after the move). I watched my mom travel to foreign countries, buy loads of yummy groceries, fill the cart with clothes before every new school year, and never - save the one happy meal - deprive me and my sisters of any reasonable want or need. She paid happily and easily for our birthday parties, prom dresses, church trips, piano lessons. She always insisted on treating other family members (her sister, mother). She wasn't wasteful with money, but lack of it was never her reason for not buying something. We saw it all, and took notes. I want that freedom, that lack of worry, that independence with money.

Random Fun Economic Memories
Every night after putting us to be, my dad would come into my sister's and my room and check to see if we were hiding books under our pillows (indicating we hadn't really gone to bed, as instructed). Anybody who was resting quietly with no books in the bed would get a penny for the piggy bank. Suffice it to say I got many fewer pennies than my sister.

Later in life I'd offer to pay my other sister to do various tasks for me - like carrying my books up the stairs. We'd barter until I agreed to pay 10-25 pennies for her service. Except I never gave her one cent. (She was a slow learner).

We always played Monopoly, even long before we could understand the real rules (we'd make up our own). We did get the concept of the colors representing properties, and that we were buying and trading them and building houses and hotels on them. We'd giddily trick my youngest sister into trading her "ugly" orange dollars (the $500 bills) for the "pretty" white ones ($1 bills).