Early Years (2-6)

On his birthdays, our son receives the usual bounty of beribboned presents, plus cards containing money, and, from aunties and uncles determined to insure his college education, U. S. Savings Bonds.

Invariably, our son opens the cards and inspects the bills and savings bonds, offers the requisite “tank you” and moves on to the more promising packages. He knows that the bills and bonds will please us and his parents (he’s seen us smile approvingly), but he’s much more interested in unwrapping the 1,000-piece Lego Ferrari that my father bought him. What 5-year-old wouldn’t be? But how to teach him that one (the Lego sports car) doesn’t exist without the other (money)?

When I was young, I learned early on what things cost. But my childhood was different. My oftentimes-single mother worked as a waitress, and we didn’t have much. The coins from her tips were tucked into rolls: pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters that we took to the grocery store to buy spaghetti, milk, ground-round. The quarters paid for the Laundromat. And if there was money left over, a dime bought a Snickers bar. It was a math lesson, but also a value lesson.

My son hasn’t grown up with the same awareness. Sure, he sees those bills in his birthday cards. Yes, he has a bank heavy with coins. Yes, he sees us dole out money at the market. But I can tell that he hasn’t put it all together yet. “Why do you have to go to work?” he asks. “Can we buy that?”  

Teaching him the math of money has been easy enough in our middle-class household where something larger than a $20 is unlikely. So, we instruct him about the worth of a penny vs. a quarter: The penny can be thrown into the fountain, a wish made, but the quarter, well, let’s not throw that away. Four of those make a dollar. And a dollar can buy a basket of strawberries at the farmers’ market. Five dollars will buy shortcakes and 20 will buy the new Harry Potter DVD.

In his book, “The First National Bank of Dad: A Foolproof Method for Teaching Your Kids the Value of Money,” David Owens outlines his solution: He created a financial institution that offered a savings plan, good interest rates and a monthly statement, so his kids could follow the growth of their deposited allowance money. Like any deposit, Owens’ children can withdraw their funds at any time and go on a spree at Toys R Us, if they wish. But time teaches them lessons that last longer than impulsive purchases. His approach is better for older children, those who receive allowances. Our young guy isn’t there yet.

Ultimately, money is about more than adding and subtracting; it’s about more than the value of strawberries or wishes. It’s about economics and labor: How we value not only goods, but our labor, time and each other. Pretty sophisticated concepts for a little kid. But I want him to understand that his parents work to provide for him and to create the kind of life we want to share. I want him to know how much we value him. I want him to know the cost.


Lisa Alvarez is a contributor.