Money

Free Shipping? No Thanks

Along the way, I learned that shipping costs could be the best use of my dollar. I love saving money. However, chasing the lure of free or reduced shipping caused much waste.

Ordering $8 more to eliminate the $7 shipping cost means an almost free item, right?  Not when I perused a catalog forty-three minutes to find that add-on. Once arrived, the unneeded, rarely-used item claimed valuable shelf-space.

Combining orders with a friend to reduce shipping was rarely worth the coordinating time. Or the friendship risk. One friend was angry with me when her item was out of stock.  Another friend saw my order as meeting the minimum shipping and her part of the order as the free shipping.  Even when orders were smooth, combined efforts outweighed the minuscule savings.

A few years ago, I faced a $32 shipping charge to mail my son a package. I chaffed until I asked myself, “What if a friend offered to drive over 800 miles to deliver this package to my son’s doorstep in exchange for $32?” A bargain.

Money is a tool. Now I gladly take it out of the toolbox for shipping.

What are you learning about your money tool?

Money, Parenting

Best Use of Our Dollars

How often have you lied to your children by saying, “We can’t afford it?” Never?  I thought so until my children called me on it. (I thought the same about my parents, but I kept my mouth closed.)

Most of the time, we can afford most of our children’s requests. “We can’t afford a new computer,” we say and then we buy a new lawn mower.  We didn’t lie, we protest. Yes, we did. We could have afforded the computer by not buying the lawn mower. When our food budget was stretched, we could have afforded the cookies by putting back the milk.

I learned to say—but not often enough—“Cookies are not the best use of our food dollars.” “Name brand jeans are not the best use of our clothing dollars.”  “Bringing homemade sandwiches to eat at a rest area instead of buying fast food is a better use of our vacation dollars.”

“Better or best use of our dollars” not only speaks truth—given our adult preferences—but re-enforces scarcity, a concept even a small child can understand.

Do you have alternative words for “We can’t afford it?

Homeschooling

Natural Learners? Or not?

Homeschooling resources and educational research repeatedly told me that children—especially young children—are natural learners. Reassuring for the mom teaching her child at home? Not always.

One evening, I joined moms at dinner before their monthly encouragement meeting. Friends, strangers, veterans, and beginners bonded in Homeschool Sisterhood. The newest member listened. During dessert, she joined the conversation.  Her posture, tone of voice and fearful glances showed she was going to divulge something shameful, so shameful that she was going to have to wear the scarlet “HF.” Homeschool Failure.

“My kindergartner resists learning,” she confessed. “He’s not a natural learner.”

We veterans spontaneously laughedtoo long and probably too loudly. Not at her. Thankfully, our good-natured mirth conveyed that.

We asked questions, and yes, her child did like to learn—just not reading and math. 

The well-known mantra was confirmed:  Children are natural learners.

Our guilt comes when children don’t love to learn what we expect them to learn at the time we expect them to learn. Some skills and knowledge can be delayed. Some should not. However, believing that natural learners will never resist learning is a myth I discarded along the way.

Have you discarded any misapplied truth?

Homeschooling, Parenting

I Need Holding Help

For weeks, I listened to a tough, tender, former Army Ranger instruct his children.  “Do not say, ‘I can’t.’ Instead, say, ‘This is hard. I need help.'”  He drilled his children. “Yes, you can. It may be hard. You may need help, but you can do it.”

One Saturday, I was hiking a rain forest in Brazil with this cousin and his four children. We had strayed from the main trail in order to explore, and the miles were adding up. The almost-four-year-old turned to me and said, “This is hard. I need help.”

“What kind of help?” I asked.

“Holding help.”

I picked him up and carried him for a while.

I took hold of my cousin’s response to “I can’t.” It acknowledges the hard we face. It avoids the argument about whether something can or cannot be done. It supplies a solution.

Trails in Guaratiba, Brazil where my cousin’s preschool son required “Holding Help.” (I am in the pink top.)

Do you need holding help for your hard? Does someone need your holding help for their hard?

Parenting

Photos: Overlooked Clues

My children’s scrapbooks chronicled almost two decades.  What a relief to finish. Not! I didn’t have my own record of those years.

Where was I to start with the leftovers—both mine and many acquired after my grandparents passed and other relatives downsized? Arranging chronologically was not possible with that jumble. I chose thematically.

I sorted photos into envelopes. “A” was for art and aircraft. “B” was for beach and bikes. “Y” was only for yards until I found a yawning newborn. Looking for yawns, I noticed two newborn sons yawned the day they left the hospital. The other yawned the day he was born. Was their new life sleepy or boring?

Thematically sorting photos revealed significant information.  “W” was for workshop. One son was building frequently in his dad’s workshop.  I would have guessed another son. “G” was for games. One son didn’t embrace particular games. “H” was for hugs—enough for multiple pages.  I hadn’t remembered such affection among my preschoolers.

Along the way, I learned to study photos—more precise than memories—for clues.  I wish I had known to think thematically about our photos when my boys were younger.

Any unexpected revelations in your photo collection?